#so many people don’t bother to answer these questions and don’t see how that might be unsettling? | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

crepezinhos · 1 month ago

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Happy Never After

POV: Even if he Sunday has finally succeeded in his mission of creating a dreamland for all people in Penacony, becoming a semi-Aeon in the way and surrounding himself with nothing but hope and peace, he still can’t fulfill his own one and only dream. You.

⚠️ WARNINGS:

— This is an Angsty and Yandere work

— Reader is FEMALE and uses SHE/HER pronouns

— Aeon!Yandere!Sunday x Reader

— AU is In-Game

— Contains: Mind control and manipulation, time manipulation, emotional manipulation, obsessive, violent and abusive behavior (and denial about it) and suggestions to masturbation.

— This might have lore mistakes because I’m not a Honkai expert, so I apologize in advance.

“I’m really glad you brought me here tonight, Sunday.” Your confession was genuine and emotional, which caused a little grin appear on Sunday’s lips even if you couldn’t find courage to look at him.

You were too distracted staring down at the beautiful dark sea reflecting the bright moonlight of this starry night in its every curve and edge below you, and also too… embarrassed.

It made you feel a bit guilty to have such a marvelous man like Sunday so eager to entertain and spoil you out of all women that desire him and not know the reason why.

Almost every weekend Sunday insists to take you out on dates and hangouts and you always accept his invitations. He either brings you to the fanciest restaurants to eat the most delicious meals of your favorite kind of food, or to walk and talk in the most beautiful natural landscapes of Penacony, or to watch the most brilliant performances of theatre or opera with the most talented artists… It’s truly an unending list of date ideas. And most importantly, he always gifts you jewelry worth millions as ‘souvenirs’ in these dates.

Tonight was no different. He brought you to another restaurant that served your favorite kind of food and walked with you to Penacony’s biggest bridge while hearing you talk about many sorts of things, giving you a golden and pearly necklace in the way. Now, you two were standing close to each other, side-by-side, in the middle edge of the bridge, staring at the same direction, either the sea or the hypnotic view of the sky above it with a bright, full moon in the middle of you two. A truly romantic moment if you could say.

It was making you wonder why once again and it bothered you how you can’t ever seem to find an answer to it, not even the slightest hint. Sunday wasn’t helpful either, acting oblivious all time, as if he has no idea how overwhelming he was by doing this much effort for you. Is this all really just because you and him have always been great friends and he’s merely just showing his gratitude to you? You don’t even see yourself as such an amazing friend… much less when you were a dumb kid.

“Seriously, this… has been one of the greatest nights of my life.” You could feel butterflies tickling your stomach as you finally gained courage to confess more feelings to him and look at his eyes.

“I’m glad.” Sunday looked back at you immediately and spoke shortly, but genuinely reciprocative, which made you feel even more embarrassed about yourself and your choice of words.

Unnecessarily long phrases… silly and unserious vocabulary… struggling to not stutter… It must be a joke to someone with such a wide and formal vocabulary like Sunday…

“Seriously… why do you do so much effort to please me?” You asked a bit embarrassed again, but it felt good having that tension released from the back of your brain.

Sunday’s little grin disappeared when you said that, thoughtful about your question. He looked away, staring at the dark horizon for a considerable moment as he built an answer. But then, Sunday suddenly smiled again, chuckling very lightly.

“May I ask you something, Y/N?” His body turned to you again, a bit more direct this time, as if he was trying to call your full attention and presence to him.

“Of course! How could I say ‘no’ to you after this date?!” You immediately complied to him, abruptly turning your whole body to him and crossing your arms to focus on him for as long as he needed your attention. After all, you wanted to show him the most gratitude you could for tonight’s date, even if you’d never reach his level of care on your own.

“I need to give you a little context before actually making my question, so… prepare.” Sunday decided to turn his whole body to you too, taking his hand from behind his back to rearrange his tie and clear his throat at the same time.

You patiently waited, wondering what could it be that he wanted to talk to you about that he felt like he needed to ask you to do so, or what did it have to have with your question.

“Y/N… I’m in love with you.” His words immediately hit you hard, making your eyes widen in shock.

But you kept quiet, letting him take the pause he needed to prepare for his next words.

“Ever since we were kids, still growing our wings and halos, I’ve been head over heels for you.” He paused once again, gently stepping closer to you to grab your right hand, holding and look at it as if it was a fresh new bar of gold. “This… beautiful, independent and wonderful woman who always accepted and adapted herself to my shy, boring and distant personality and supported me in my every bad moment like my own right arm.” He decided to look at your eyes again, making very intimate and real eye contact with you. “This woman who… is worth every penny of my pocket, every second of my time, every other planet in this universe, every Aeon that lives above us…” He paused one last time, becoming too embarrassed to look at you anymore. “This woman who… I want to spend the rest of my life with.” His cheeks flushed darkly, finding courage to look at your eyes yet again so his message could be clearly heard, seen and understood. “That’s why I take you to these dates, Y/N. It’s because this is how I want to express my gratitude and love to you while trying to… make you love me too… That’s the answer for your question.” Sunday smiled, giggling to cool off from the tension of sharing such a dark secret with you.

He is so visibly confident about this, looking at you with so much happiness and believing your stare was reciprocating underneath the shock… He is so ready to have you say ‘Yes’ to the question ahead and then lean in to kiss your lips.

“So, Y/N, now that I’ve answered your question, I’d like to share mine too. Would you like to be my girlfriend?” Sunday let one of his hands go of yours and rose it your eye level, quietly summoning a rose using a bit of his Harmony powers simply to offer it to you.

…

“Sunday…” You finally realized his little monologue was over and that it was your turn to speak.

Meanwhile, his smile slightly widened as he heard your voice speaking his name so gently, believing that you were losing your shame to accept his love confession.

…

“I…” You struggled to let the words come out of your mouth, voice chords stuck in a purely psychological knot due to how horrible you felt about how you’d just acted so considerate to him… only to break his heart next. “I’m sorry.” You finally broke eye contact, not handling the useless excitement in his eyes.

But despite your eyes looking at the concrete floor, you could feel Sunday’s pink cheeks, bright grin and pupils immediately all dying when he heard your initial response, but he remained stable and ready to hear your thoughts… hiding his disappointment.

“I’m… genuinely really glad that you brought me here tonight, Sunday, but… it would be cruel of me to say ‘Yes’ to you.” You paused, glancing up again just to see if he’d gotten any better, but his expression only seemed more disappointed, which made you lower your gaze again. “I adore you, Sunday. You’re my best friend. But I… don’t adore you… this way.” You awkwardly smiled at him for a quick moment, trying to lighten the mood, but it obviously didn’t make a single muscle of his face move. “So… I really don’t want to be cruel to you and… lie to you and fool your feelings… After all, the best friendships are built upon honesty, right..?” You moved your other hand to place it on top of your intertwined hands and caressed his gloved fingers, trying your best to comfort him.

Shnday was speechless for a moment, staring at your eyes without blinking like he was trying to turn you into a stone statue, which made your heart ache in sorrow and guilt.

“T-Trust me when I say this, Sunday… There are many… hundreds… probably thousands of other women here that want to be your girlfriend. And… they’d probably be better girlfriends than me, anyway…” You shrugged your shoulders, trying to make yourself inferior to raise his confidence again.

“I don’t want other women! I… I want you..!” Sunday screamed with a shaky, cracky voice, eyes in the edge of tears. “Is there not even a chance..?” He abruptly spoke, holding your hand tighter.

“I… I don’t think so, Sunday…” You couldn’t deny his grip made you feel a little scared, but he was going through enough humiliation for you to add the fact that he was hurting you.

“N-Not even a-a slight chance..? Y-You looked so happy with me tonight, I—!” Sunday couldn’t even finish himself from the anxiety that was attacking him and his body, having to breathe in and out to cool off. “I would give this to you every day of your life, Y/N… And more.” He pulled his hand out of the sandwich of hands you two had built, using a bit of force to quickly shove the rose in your palm and close your fingers, making you hold his the physical version of his love confession standing straight.

“I…” You reflected a bit, imaging scenarios of you and Sunday kissing, going out on dates like this but with way more intimacy, love and trust, cuddling with each other, calling each other corny nicknames… but it didn’t work, no matter how much you wanted to tell him ‘Yes’ to not shatter his heart.

“Maybe..?” Sunday whispered with all his last topes, bringing that new hand sandwich to his chest and landing it where his heart was, his accelerated heartbeat pumping in your hand.

And you finally noticed a tear beautifully falling in the corner of his right eye, which you finally took as a sign to end the conversation before it got worse.

“… No.” You looked away from him once again, feeling horrible about being honest to him despite insisting in it, but it would’ve been worse if you said ‘yes’, wouldn’t it? “I’m really sorry, Sunday…” You couldn’t handle your guilt anymore and freed your hands from his knot, hugging his back the the most comfortably you could, the rose’s green structure slightly weakening in your hand.

Sunday’s head inevitably melted in your neck, breathing in your vanilla scent like it was oxygen. You could even feel his shaky lips sometimes touch you, desperately trying to hold back from kissing you. His hands also stopped hopelessly shaking with no support to hug you back with that same strength he was using to hold your hands just now, almost ripping your dress with his scratching and clawing.

And Sunday proceeded to quietly sob, wordlessly expressing his anguish and pain from being rejected… but finding comfort in that same person who hurt him. It was a but odd to you, but it was the bare minimum you could as the friend Sunday mostly spoiled—

“Go home.” Sunday’s voice suddenly changed to a serious tone, the command echoing over and over in your head until you realized just how helpleslly waeak your body was slowly becoming, unable to react or fight back, succumbing to whatever that weird feeling was. “Forget everything I’ve told you right now and replace this memory with me walking you home, and leaving you home-alone for the night after a nice talk.”

Y/N’s body was paralyzed as it processed the orders, staring at the sky with dead eyes like a mindless puppet. Even if I rose my head and made eye contact with her again, nothing in her inanimate expression changed. Is this how meaningless I still am to her? Where she doesn’t even try to fight back and remain conscious for me?

Wow.

Progress really is going to be slow, isn’t it?

I know exactly what Y/N is waiting for right now. She wants me to stop hugging her so she can walk away like I told her to. But I don’t want to let go. I don’t want to stop hugging her at all. She is so close to me. She feels and smells so warm and comfortable. And she was letting me hold her hands and back so easily... Letting me cry on her shoulder so welcomingly like a home does… My mouth was shaking in anguish and hunger to kiss it, to look up and kiss her, but I couldn’t. I decided not to. At least getting to feel the tip of my lips touching her skin felt good. But I’ll respect her boundaries just like I should always do and always did with her this whole time in the paradise. It’s a shame she’ll never know about this accomplishment of mine, though.

But I have to let her go if I want the script to keep working like I asked it to. I have to learn with this failure like I did with all the others and move on just like she will right now. I’ll go home and prepare a new date for next weekend, a better one, just to convince her to like me even more and more. So, ignoring all the cells in my body desperately and agonizingly screaming for me to keep our bodis touching each other like this, I eased my arms, giving her allowance to go. And she did. My right arm even lifted up instinctually, wanting to hold her and huge her again, but I managed to stop and force myself to watch her reject me, her figure fleeting and blurring away from my eyes more and more just like all the other times I had to do this.

My heart burns to watch her walking away like this.

It really does.

Once again, I have failed to achieve my only wish when I created this utopia… This Penacony… Her. The love of my life, Y/N Y/S, has once again slipped away from my hands and rejected my love for her. And once again I feel like throwing a tantrum because of it.

But I refused to let my instincts to win me and rose a hand to begin materializing the notepad that I use to document keep up with these… attempts along with its pen.

107

108

Roses

Orchids

Restaurant + Penacony’s Bridge

Cinema + Penacony’s Bridge

Additional Notes: This was the first time Y/N ever felt comfortable to vent about her gratitude to me related to these dates, and she also hugged me, so I won’t delete all her memories of this whole night.

I closed the notebook, proceeding to stare at the floor with no purpose, only emptiness.

It was done.

There is nothing more I can do about her tonight, only look forward to the next ones.

Looks like I’m still cursed to fail every time. After all my hard work, all the sacrifices I’ve made to achieve this, all the love I’ve put into her, she hasn’t fallen in love with me.

Maybe the lack of honesty from my side affects us, but I can’t afford to have her knowing about the truth behind this paradise and me. It’d only make her hate me again, and I can’t afford to have a bitter relationship with her again. I want the both of us to be this close to each other again even if it’s at this cost.

I can’t tell her this is all a dream.

I can’t tell her about my identity as a semi-Aeon who is in charge of coding this entire planet and everyone’s script.

I can’t tell her about our real story.

I cant tell her about my manic love for her.

I can’t tell her about how I use my powers to manipulate how things between us happen sometimes.

But, most importantly, I can’t tell her about our real current relationship. The one outside this realm. The one I can’t change. A relationship that I’ve fully ruined on my own and miraculously restored with this dream. Still, it’s very clear that even this one is broken and unbalanced. But the difference is that now, as an Aeon, I can fix it.

With a simple command I rewrite past, present and future. With more complex commands, I rewrite one’s memories and actions.

So everytime something stains our relationship, I simply make it inexistent in her head, or even reset the day so I can try again. This way, our friendship never has obstacles for the possibility of evolving into something more serious, which is what I want with this.

For example:

On Attempt #4, I broke down right in front of her.

On Attempt #17, I made a critic about her lifestyle that she did not like at all and wanted to dump me for.

On Attempt #31, I slapped her face in anger when she rejected me after so much effor I put into the date.

On Attempt #59, a similar thing happened. I threatened her with my death if she didn’t date me and almost assaulted her.

But she doesn’t remember a single second of those days. I deleted them from her head or I altered them to something better. So, Y/N technically only fully remembers about 15 of these dates, 35 inclusing those who were altered.

It would be too embarrassing to live with her when she had those mistakes of mine in her mind, neither would my wish come true. I know it from experience.

“Sunday, no! Stop! Stop it right now! You’re hurting me!” She kept pushing me, and pushing me, and pushing me.

“Y/N, please! Listen to me! I promise you I’ll treat you well! I’ll treat you so well! It’ll be the best thing that ever happened to you! I’m your friend! Your best friend! Why wouldn’t you want us to be together?! After all I’ve done for you?! I just you want you to be happe with me!” And I kept touching her, and touching her, and touching her until she finally managed to escape from me.

She started to hate me after that forsaken day despite all the years of friendship we’d collected so far. She started to feel hatred, anger and disgust at my mere presence, avoiding looking or talking at me, even in situations where we were supposed to be interacting.

I was forced to move on from her, even if it pained my every cell doing so. Deep down, I was still obsessed about her, always keeping an eye on her to keep her safe and myself aware of every information about her life, but she wouldn’t let me any closer than that. At least I learned my lesson with that. I will never disrespect her boundaries like I did that day again. I’ll respect it just like I did today and all the other days because what good men do, that’s what the real Y/N wants. Those few exceptions are excludable and will be outlawed from her mind, meaning all she has a memory of is me being a gentleman to her, the gentleman I know I am.

That day was just a mere... stupid decision. I’m a good man. I’m a really good man. I’m a gentleman, a provider, a caretaker, a peacemaker and an semi-Aeon. This Y/N knows it. The real probably does too. Everyone I know does.

I just can’t waste the opportunity the Harmony gave to me. This utopia. When the dream finally became true, everyone’s backstory has its bad moments deleted and rewrittenwith good versions of them, and Y/N had the memories of that day altered too without my intervention. I didn’t expect it to be, but when she suddenly approached with that good-old bright smile of hers, something awakened in me. That was my second chance. My infinite second chance. To her, I never attacked her, I never acted pathetic to her, I never stopped being her friend, and I won’t let her go now. And it’s fair because I didn’t personally cause her to lose the memories of that day. This was just the result of a mission unrelated to her, the mission of turning Penacony into a paradise. So, I’m a good, honest man.

I can’t even believe I almost lost to those unrealistically optimistic Trailblazers, that snobby gambler, that disgusting Masked Fool and that wretched dog who dared touching my sister. How was I almost convinced by their useles, meaningless, fake speeches about me being a manipulative man? A dictator? A control freak? A maniac? When my intentions are so pure and considerate to every unfornate soul out there? Dictators don’t search for power for the good of everyone. They do it for their own good. I didn’t do that. I did this for the Family, the Harmony, Xipe...

And as expected, they’re all happy now. Alive, safe, well and living with everyone they love or once lost.

I sighed, annoyed by remembering the memories of the day of that fight between me and the Trailblazers, and turned around. Hopefully, the step I took tonight with my relationship with her will be bigger than I expected it to be.

As usual, every time I took my turn and walked away from her to conclude the night, the same question voiced itself in my mind.

“Why don’t you make her to fall in love with you already and stop torturing youself?”

And every time she rejects me, this will becomes stronger. But once again, I didn’t succumb to it, and rested my hope on ‘Plan A’, shaking my head to hopefully scare the thought away from my mind.

I don’t want a fake Y/N. I want her. I want her true feelings, her flesh, her blood, her heart and her mind. I want her to truthfully love me, feel things for me, be sad, sinful, lusty, naughty, happy and dirty with me. Forcing her to be my girlfriend would only go going against what she taught me that day. I shouldn’t let my powers blind me too much.

“There wouldn’t be real happiness in such a forced relationship like that.”

“Y/N would not be Y/N if you do that. It’d be Sunday’s version of Y/N.”

I counterattacked my own mind, forcing myself to be optimistic about this plan no matter how crushed my heart is.

I sighed, knowing the mental discussion would begin once again until I was finally home, sobbed and lamented myself to sleep and woke up to another day of nothing but hoping I can make my dream come true like everybody else’s dream did. To make Y/N fall in love with me.

“How do you know Y/N wouldn’t be herself under a spell? You don’t know how Y/N is as a girlfriend.”

“Is Y/N even worth all of this?”

“Do you think she’d be happy to learn the truth, Sunday?”

I really disliked these discussions I have with myself. It feels like I am talking to that Wonweek all over again.

I am being honest at this moment by denying these thoughts, aren’t I? I don’t even dare trying to change her past with me, not even my biggest mistake with her. I allow her to hate me and force me to watch her from afar forever in the real Penacony. So what if I deleted a few memories from her to make sure nothing goes wrong in our relationship? I am doing it for the good. For the good of the both of us. I am Y/N’s perfect match. If I make her my girlfriend or his wife, I doubt the real Y/N wouldn’t reconsider her feelings for me because I know I can treat her well. I know I’m the best man she could ever find. I can treat her like a queen or a whole new Aron. All I need is her permission to do so.

How could I live in that imperfect world until my last breath knowing her, out of all people in this world, hate me? Who even am I without Y/N? Without her counseling? I can’t live like that at all. Not when I have the second chance right in the palm of my hands.

And this stupid walk isn’t helping me calm down at all.

I should just teleport home already.

…

Here I am. At home.

Can I even call this place a ‘home’?

Such uncannily clean white walls, perfectly-placed furniture, every utensil set clean and ready on its place to be used and immediately put back to their place using my technological powers. It perfectly matched the mood of the utopia I created, yet I couldn’t feel a single emotion of satisfaction walking around it.

“Welcome home, my love.” It spoke.

I looked behind my shoulder as soon as the voice ringed, a wing of mine twitching in recognition, meeting exactly what I expected to meet.

You.

No, I shouldn’t call it that.

It’s a manifestation of you.

Because in the end, Xipe also promised me a happy, comfortable life in the dream, meaning my dream would be accomplished in this place too. But since my dreams overlap with hers, and the dream can’t afford to have to sacrifice her dreams to make her fall in love with me, the coding keeps trying push this alternative to me. A clone of you.

So it’s her, in a certain way. Wearing my favorite kind of makeup and casual clothes, like the housewife it acted as, working in the house all day for me no matter how much I try to stop it. Her curves and face were distinctively finer than the real one’s, reflecting my own beauty standards when it came to women. I hate staring at it and it knows it. That thing feels like a demon trying to bother my peace, seduce me, and then torture me with the disgusting truth about myself.

Because it know just had bad I desire you. I am disgustingly attracted to her in all ways possible and the clone knows it. It doesn’t stand like that with its hands behind his back out of submission for me or innocence. It wants to show off those fake, hypnotic curves. It wants me to walk to it, reach it, and savor what Xipe offers me. It is a bit blasphemous for me to reject their gift, but they must understand my point of view about this. I have godlike powers too. I’m no longer a simple gentleman. I am escalating in the power hierarchy more and more.

I’ll deny it, and I’ll fight it back. That’s why it keeps standing in corners. It knows what will happen if it keeps pushing itself against me. It’ll be destroyed by his hands, no matter if it can reincarnate or if it’s belly is entirely empty aside from its uterus.

Do you understand what it costs me to keep my hands off that clone? Avoiding using its body to relieve his own desires and stress? Avoiding filling up that womb of yours with myself so I could realize my dream of having a family with you? All it does is tease me and make him crave even more for you. But I keep shutting it down every time because I am conservative in all means. I don’t care if it increases the size of its curves and makes itself warmer, wetter an tighter for every ‘No’ I say. I won’t dare to spoil or pleasure himself with anything that isn’t you or his own hands. I do not want any inspiration for my imagination of you. I want you to fill up complete that jigsaw puzzle in my head yourself.

I want to reserve all that energy for the day the two of us finally kiss, become a couple, go to either your or his home, throw each other in the bed, knot your limbs around each other, rip away your clothes, cover ourselves with the blanket, trust each other to open our bodies and make love all night to each other.

I have a fantasy for dirtiness that I usually hate to admit. But it’s one of my disgusting truths. I want to feel sinful, dirty, naughty and ashamed with you. I wants to be degraded for my disgusting behavior towards you, and I want it be done by your and only your hands.

I quietly walked to my room and ran a finger on the sheets of my bed as I thought about the clone standing in the corner. The bed was soft, fluffy and the sheets were perfectly straightened and balanced in every corner so I could sleep well every night, yet I still feared sleep. It was simply hard to do so when I have so many responsibilities regarding this realm and you.

The things I’d do to have her here by my side, caressing and hugging me, telling me everything will be okay, were unimaginable, especially when I have a “perfect” version of you right there who’d be willing to satisfy all my wishes whenever I want.

…

No.

I shouldn’t do it. I shouldn’t do anything with it, actually. This clone’s temptation is really something else, isn’t it? I keep rethinking about it over and over again. To even make me dare to think about breaking my secret promise to you with a clone…

“If you imagine the Y/N that you desire, that wouldn’t be ruining your actual experience with her unless she is naturally how you desire h—”

I shook his head side-to-side, trying to dissipate his thoughts away.

I will not think about Y/N and the clone like that and I will force myself to accept that thing’s existence in the corner of his room just like I always did.

So I walked away from the bed and went to my desk instead, sitting down on its fancy chair and summoning that same notebook again. I should distract and exhaust myself developing new date ideas that met or exceeded the quality of this one tonight until I felt like sleeping. In the end, despite my negative assumptions, I just reached a new level of dedication and it was far from being the most effort I could do for you. After all, I can do whatever I want in there.

So I started writing.

Maybe it’d be a nice idea to go to either your or my home for a while after a date, or spend some time together going on a trip together maybe with another companion like Robin if she wants it. I should bring you more meaningful gifts instead of giving you bigger gifts. Maybe you’re a fan of simple things and not big bouquets and shiny jewelry and I’ve been just missing that all along. I should maybe even try to wear a different style, either in his clothes, his hair or both. I could change my entire body for you, although that’d truly hurt my pride of myself a bit. But I’d do it if it’d keep her with me.

You have no idea how mad I can be writing all these suggestions. How many scribbled texts there are across these pages with the most insane, evil, cruel and ridiculous ideas I have for you.

And this stupid clone annoys me. Its gentle, hypnotic stare was almost distracting me from what should be my main priority. And, in fact, it started walking. It was walking towards me very slowly, aware of my defeat to its presence and prepare to breakdown and discount whatever bloodlust I have for it.

But, all it did when it was one step away to be crushed, was to stand by my side and quietly sit in the edge of the table. In that position, its knee-long skirt couldn’t hide most of it legs anymore, meanly revealing its crossed thighs to my hungry eyes. And it sold itself even more by slowly trying to pull the skirt upwards and reveal more of its skin.

Fucking Christ. It really fucking knows how to strike.

Inevitably, a wave of tension was sent to my pants, my organ protesting for freedom. The clone giggled while I opened a wing of mine to censor the view of it, desperately trying to force my eyes to focus on the paper. But at the same time I decided to slightly give up and start moving my free hand towards it, finally admitting a bit of my own desire for the clone. My hand landed on its soft thigh and I groaned at the touch. It felt perfectly good just like any other woman in a porno movie would. I wish I could see it, but I refuse to let that clone to ruin more of my dignity. The way my touch lingered in it was pathetic enough.

My thumb acted on its own and lingered and rubbed around its skin, my body slowly leaning down in acceptance and shame. My other hand trembled on its spot, unable to keep writing while half of my body was overwhelmed by the feeling of the clone’s soft thigh. In fact, the last line I’ve written was nothing but random lines that wanted to imitate cursive letters. It’s been haunting and distracting me all along.

“You’ve done a great job today, Sunny.” And it dated to talk to me again and make me moan when I least want to be acknowledged or acknowledge it in my own.

I hate it. I hate it so much.

I want to kill it. I want to see blood coming out of it. I hate how it dares to think it’s better than Y/N’s flesh with its plastic skin. I hate how it knows my weaknesses and abuses it. I hate how it’ll always linger with me as long as don’t have the real Y/N with me.

Buzz buzz

My hand immediately expelled itself from the clone in pure disgust as soon as I felt my phone buzz in my pants’ pockets, feeling as if I’d almost been caught.

My wings spread open, body leaning upward and fixing itself from its previous position. I quickly shoved my hand in my pocket and pulled my phone out of it.

It was Y/N.

Thank you so much for dropping me off, Sunday!

It was a really fun night!

I’m still mesmerized by the view we had of the sea and sky…

Hopefully the dinner didn’t cost you much either

My left wing twitched in appreciation of her words a bit proud of myself, something I’d typically control in public.

I looked around, wanting to make sure I hadn’t been caught at all, and I wasn’t, of course. The clone had actually disappeared from my table at Y/N’s apparition.

I smiled at my screen, quickly unlocking my phone and opening my messages with her.

Please,

Don’t worry about that.

I’m equally glad you liked the date.

Stoppppppp!!!!!!!

You’re too kind!!!!!!!

Its okay, Y/N

I promise

In fact,

I was thinking about taking you to the movies next Saturday.

They’re screening a beautiful romance movie

You’re kidding me?

You won’t ever let me rest, will you?

Sure I’ll take it

I’ll just have to check if I’m free

Of course.

I’ll look for the next available time if you can’t come.

Can you stop spoiling me for one second!!!!!!

Haha

Sure

I’ll stop for now

But I’ll do anything for you, Y/N ❤️

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violentdelightsandviolentends · 1 year ago

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Cherry Blossom. aka - Cherry, Part Four.

a night of conversations, kisses and long awaited confessions.

pairing - bestfriend!steve harrington x female reader

warnings - cursing, kissing (but no real smut).

word count - 2.6k

authors note - the babies are back!! no smut in this one - it was getting too long. but don’t you worry… there’s gonna be so much smut in part five !! sorry for the cliffhanger. love u <3

as always, reblogs, comments and feedback (even anonymous feedback!) are immensely appreciated!! your reblogs are the only way to circulate my fics, which keeps me going <3

series masterlist. main masterlist. inbox.

The smoke from the bonfire is stinging your eyes, ash sticking to the strands of your hair. Orange embers burn rapidly, dry wood being occasionally thrown on top by drunk boys with red cups in their hands.

The music is way too loud for a forest party, but no one seems to care. Someone’s haphazardly strung lights between the trees, creating a surprisingly cosy ambience. The atmosphere is alive, charged with the electricity of being out later than curfew.

“M’lady!”

You laugh, accepting the drink from Eddie’s outstretched hand.

“Thank you, kind sir,” you say as you curtsy sarcastically, making both of you laugh harder. “Hey, you didn’t bump into Steve on your way over here, did you? I haven’t seen him for like an hour.”

The curly haired boy kicks the toe of your sneaker with his.

“Saw him with that Clara girl, talking by the lake.”

You take a steadying breath, pretending it doesn’t bother you in the slightest.

“You should go and check if he needs rescuing,” Eddie jokes. “God knows she can talk for hours without coming up for air.”

You smile at him, pulling at one of his curls.

“Good idea. Just in case.”

“Just in case,” he winks, pushing you in the right direction.

You saunter down towards the water, spotting your best friend instantly. He’s stood with his arms across his chest, weight on one hip as he tries to listen to whatever Clara has to say. The minute he sees you, his posture is straightening, lips quirking up at the corners.

Clara turns around to see what Steve is looking at, her face falling when she recognises you.

“Hi. I don’t mean to interrupt! Just wanted to check if you needed another drink, Stevie.”

The boy grins, beckoning you closer with a nod of his head. When you’re near enough, he leans down and presses a sweet kiss to your lips, all affectionate and tender.

Oh.

You don’t do that.

The two of you have kept your romance completely behind closed doors, up until now. It hasn’t got a name, never mind a label, and you don’t need people asking questions when you don’t even know the answers yourself.

You could blame it on the alcohol, but you know Steve’s on his first drink. With your head spinning, you look up at him as if he is the sun and all things warm. He looks down at you the exact same way.

“I’m gonna go see where my friends are,” Clara says a little too loudly, strutting away with as much confidence as she can muster.

You have a sudden feeling that you’re the villain in her story, but you’re not entirely sure why.

“How many drinks have you had?” Steve asks as he pulls a strand of hair away from your face.

“This is my second. I was nursing my first one, Eddie says.”

The boy laughs, and you grab onto his bicep for support. The sound of it is enough to buckle your knees.

“This is my first. It’s not doing much for me.”

“You want something different? I’m sure Robin has that beer you like in her bag.”

“Nah, I’m okay. Don’t think I’m gonna drink any more tonight.”

Steve slips his hands into the back pockets of your jeans, pulling you in closer and keeping them there.

“You sure?”

“I’m sure.”

“Okay,” you whisper.

“Okay,” he whispers back.

And then he kisses you. Again. It’s slow and careful and so romantic that you think you might start crying about it.

“What time is it?” he asks when he pulls away as if nothing happened.

“Eleven thirty.”

“You wanna stay a bit longer?”

“Not if you don’t.”

Steve presses his lips to your forehead, hands cradling your cheeks.

“I kinda wanna go home.”

You smile at him, all soft and sweet.

“Then let’s go home. I’m getting a little cold, anyway. And I didn’t bring a jacket.”

“Will you ever learn?” he laughs, slinging an arm around your shoulders.

“If it means I have to stop wearing your jackets that I know you bring to parties just for me? No, I won’t.”

You weren’t supposed to say that out loud, but the way Steve chuckles soothes the sting of the accidental wound.

“Let’s go home, Cherry Baby.”

Home. The assumption that the two of you will always be returning to the same place makes your heart so full, you wonder how it doesn’t spill over.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

“You good?”

“Feet hurt.”

This happens every single time the two of you go to a party, so you feel as if you’re reliving a memory.

“Hop on.”

“Steve-”

“Cherry. Come on. We’ll get home quicker this way.”

You can’t argue with that. Steve crouches as you jump onto his back, his hands wrapping around your thighs to keep you steady. You wrap your arms around his neck from behind, resting your head on top of his.

“Comfy back there?”

You hum, the noise of agreement enough for Steve to start walking.

The two of you chat each others ears off on the way home, talking about nothing and everything. You laugh so hard at something he says that you end up with a mouthful of his hair, which he in turn finds hilarious.

“Have you thought any more about what I said the other day?”

“You say a lot of things, Steven.”

He chuckles, shaking his head and giving your thighs a squeeze.

“About college.”

You go quiet for a moment, and Steve wonders if he’s chosen the wrong time to have this conversation.

“I’ve been thinking about it.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Let’s talk about it later, okay? When I’m not constantly worried I’m gonna accidentally trip and kill you.”

You nod, and he feels it. You know it needs to be a discussion sometime soon, but perhaps having it when you’re being carried down the street on your best friends back isn’t all that practical.

“Love you,” you mumble into the crook of Steve’s neck.

He shudders a little at your lips on his skin, leaning his head sideways to rest against yours.

“Love you, Cherry Pie. More than anything.”

You let Steve piggyback you all the way to his front door. Neither of you say anything else. Neither of you feel the need to.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

Steve bumps his hip into yours as you both brush your teeth, laughing at your shocked reflection in the mirror.

“Are you okay?” you ask as you place your toothbrush back in its holder, right next to his.

“Yeah, I’m good.”

“You sure?”

You hop up on the bathroom counter, sitting up so you’re eye to eye with the boy in front of you. He takes a step forward, standing between your legs as he splays his cold hands over your thighs.

“Why’d you ask?”

You trace over his fingers where they rest on your skin, quiet for a moment.

“You seemed pretty eager to go home tonight. It’s unlike you. You love a party. Leaving at eleven thirty is like… unheard of, for King Steve.”

“King Steve would rather be at home with you than at a party with all those people.”

“Really?”

“Really. Clara was going on about something or other, the music was too loud, and I could feel the chill coming in. It hit me, all of a sudden, that I’d rather be in bed. Or, anywhere else, as long as I was with you.”

You lean forward to rest your head against his chest, sighing when he starts playing with your hair gently.

“You’re a softie,” you mumble into his shirt. “And a mind reader.”

“It’s my one talent,” he chuckles. “I wish reading your mind was a college major. I’d be the best in the world.”

You shake your head, laughing like you can’t help it.

“If I don’t move soon, I’m gonna fall asleep on this bathroom counter.”

“Want me to carry you?”

“Contrary to popular belief,” you tease as you hop down, “my legs actually do work.”

Steve gasps, all theatrical and exaggerated, which only makes you laugh harder.

“Come on, sleepy girl. Let’s go to bed.”

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

“We’re not talking about stuff.”

You whisper it into the darkness, the trees rustling outside Steve’s window serving as the only sound you can hear.

“Hmm?”

Your legs are tangled with his, tired head resting on the boys shoulder as your sides are pressed together. You’re both lying on your backs, staring at the ceiling.

“We keep saying we’ll talk about stuff, but we haven’t been. It’s not like us.”

“You mean, like, feelings?”

“Yeah.”

All that can be heard now is two sets of heaving lungs. Steve’s hand finds yours under the duvet, fingers intertwining.

“Is there something specific that’s bothering you?”

“Not bothering me as such. I just… I think the more we don’t talk, the more complicated things become.”

There’s silence for a moment, before Steve speaks.

“I’m scared, Cherry.”

The tone of his voice is paper thin and vulnerable, and you will yourself not to cry about it.

“Of what, Stevie?”

You squeeze his hand, tucking yourself further into his side until there isn’t an inch of space between you.

“Of… everything changing. You’re my best friend in the entire world, and I know that what we’ve been doing isn’t typical… best friend stuff. I just…” he takes a deep breath, exhaling carefully. “I worry that something will happen and we’ll break up, and I’ll lose you forever.”

His voice cracks on the last word, fear seeping through his pores. Yet, he continues.

“I’d die without you, Cherry. I really would. I don’t know what it’s like to live in a world where we’re not… us.”

You turn onto your side to face him in the dark, reaching up to cradle his cheek softly. You rest your forehead against his temple, pressing a kiss into his skin.

“I’m scared too. I have been ever since that first night in my room. Not because I don’t trust you, or because I don’t feel that way about you… but because I don’t want to lose you either. More than anything, I don’t want to lose you.”

“Why didn’t we talk about this sooner?” he laughs, throat thick with emotion.

“Because we’re us. And whether we talk or don’t talk, we know we’ll figure it out. We always know we’ll be okay.”

“I love you,” he whispers into the dark. “More than all the stars in the sky.”

“I love you,” you whisper back. “More than all the grains of sand on all the beaches in the world.”

You press another kiss into his temple, letting your lips linger on his soft skin. He smells so familiar, so warm, so yours… you can’t help but inhale, chuckling when he shudders.

You continue to leave kisses across his jaw, over his ear, down his neck. He tilts his head to give you better access, groaning when you nip at his throat with your teeth, licking over the scrape to soothe him.

Steve pulls you in as if you weigh nothing, moving you so you’re lying on top of him. You sit up, straddling his lap, as he does the same so you’re chest to chest. Running his hands under your shirt and over the bare skin of your back, he rests his forehead against yours.

“You look so pretty like this,” he hums against your lips. “Prettiest girl in the world.”

“You wanna talk about pretty?” you tease, running your fingers through his hair. “My pretty, pretty boy.”

Steve’s hips buck up into yours, making you giggle.

“Oh, you like that? You like it when I call you pretty? Or do you just like it when I call you mine?”

His hips buck again as his cheeks flush pink.

“I am yours,” he murmurs. “Always have been.”

You thought you had the upper hand for a minute, but now you just want to cry. You’re overwhelmed by the way you feel about the boy underneath you, unsure of how to process it without bursting into tears.

“All mine,” you whisper, tracing the features of his face with your fingertip.

Steve takes a deep breath, watching your eyes as they look over him again and again, taking him in as if it’s the first time. He decides it’s now or never.

“Cherry?”

“Stevie?”

Your voices are low and careful, irregardless of the fact that you’re alone in the house.

“I’m in love with you.”

Your heart stops, and so does the world outside. Everything pauses, the two of you suspended in this moment in time.

Steve takes another breath, exhaling it carefully before meeting your eyes and continuing.

“You don’t have to say it back. Now, or ever. I just - I needed you to know.”

You blink back tears as you watch his face, biting your lip to stop them from falling.

“Steve-”

“Hey, I told you. You don’t have to say anything, babe. I know-”

“Shut up.”

“What?”

“Just-”

You surge forward and kiss him with all the affection you can muster, trying to express your feelings. You grip his hair, plastering your bodies together where you sit in his lap still. He wraps his arms around you, pulling you in as close as he can.

“If you let me talk,” you say when you pull away, all breathless, “you’d hear that I have something I’d like to say.”

Steve smiles, humming in acknowledgment and encouraging you to keep going.

“I’m in love with you, too.”

The boy looks shocked to hear it, as if it’s news to him.

“What’s that face for?” you laugh.

“I just… I didn’t expect you to say it back.”

“Steve,” you chuckle, looking at him sternly. When you realise he’s being serious, you double down. “I’ve been in love with you for as long as I can remember. When we were kids, and someone would say the word ‘husband’, I always pictured you. I was so convinced it was always going to end up being you and I.”

“Why… why didn’t you say anything sooner?”

“Why didn’t you?”

He laughs, and the sound makes you feel as if you’re on cloud nine. You can feel his heartbeat where his chest is pressed to yours, frantic like he’s just ran a marathon.

“Fuck, I love you.”

He leans up to kiss you, all saccharine and honey sweet.

“Say it again,” you whisper against his lips.

“I’m in love with you, Cherry.”

“Say it again.”

“I, Steve Harrington, declare that I am completely, utterly, ridiculously in love with this girl right here. I always have been. I always will be.”

You can’t help but throw your head back with laughter.

“And I love you. So much.”

The words you’ve always said mean so much more now. It’s a welcome change, one you never thought you’d see happen.

“Hey Steve?”

“Hmm?”

You lean in, nosing at his jaw as you murmur into his ear.

“Want you. So bad.”

“Fuck, honey,” he groans, all low and rough.

“Please. Want it to be you.”

Looking up at you with big eyes, he searches your face for any kind of hesitation.

“Are you sure?”

Smoothing his hair away from his face, you trace your thumb over his bottom lip.

“I’ve never been so sure of anything.”

“Okay.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he grins. “I’m about to rock your world, Cherry Blossom.”

@psychicnerdcat @allcheesemelts @valerievortex @swiftsgirlfriend @steviespookie @betweenstarsandsatellites @mrsjoequinn @internallysalad @saucypeanuttt @empathyroad @niceskyler @spookysins @theoraekenslover @7minutes-tomidnight @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @clairesjointshurt @livsters @diffrent-spokes @regular-joe-shmoe @ihatepeanutss @ladyburberry @thenonweeknd @abarelyexistentbeing @jennaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa @slut4gaga @hopelessromanticwriter @mgchaser @wintrsoldrluvr

#steve harrington fic #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader smut #steve harrington x reader fluff #steve harrington x bestfriend!reader #bestfriend!steve harrington #bestfriend!steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x bestfriend reader #stranger things x reader #stranger things smut #stranger things fluff

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81pastrys · 5 months ago

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Can I have 12/13 year old Hamilton's daughter and she's at the paddock on race day and is chatting with skysports and it get progressively more off topic (racism/sexism/etc) and the other drivers come to defend her before Lewis comes out??

Thanks gorgeous/handsome

People Talk

Summary— SkySports has Beatrice do an interview, but when a commentator makes a sexist comment she clocks him.

Warnings— sexist comment towards female racers

A/N— absolutely love the name suggestions too!!

Dad Lewis List

Beatrice was well known around the paddock, so much so skysports asked to speak with her before a practice. Other drivers noticed and some stayed to watch, she was an intelligent 12 year old.

“So Beatrice, how does it feel to watch in red now?” She’s gotten the question so many times, her answer differs but stays relatively the same.

“I love it, I mean the people are different, all I’ve known is Mercedes but yeah it’s definitely a change.” She laughed a bit and more questions followed. “Repeat that for me I’m sorry?” One of the commentators made a comment on female racers.

“Female racers don’t do as well in formula cars?” He asked. She nodded and her attitude changed. “Look at the statistics given, I mean a man can pull more time out the same car that a female drove in.” He said.

“How long had the female been racing though? Was she confident in that car?” Beatrice asked, he stuttered. “A man can probably adjust quicker but if we’re comparing statistics put equal leveled drivers in cars and then come back to me. Thank you.” She tried to hand the microphone away but they ushered her to stay.

Lando was watching the interview and saw her demeanor changed. She was no longer comfortable to be in the interview. “No that’s enough, she said she’s done.” Lando was firm but polite. He grabbed her hand and pulled her away. “Are you okay?” He asked.

“Yeah, that comment just made me uncomfortable.” She said, he could see her anxiety spike when they asked her to stay. Lewis saw them and walked up. “Hey dad.” She weakly smiled at him.

“Hey Bea, what’s wrong?” Lewis could see her mood different from when he left her with SkySports. “Did they say something rude?” He knew SkySports talked about any driver anyway they wanted.

“No they made a sexist comment.” She said confidently. She never hesitated to tell Lewis her worries. “Thank you Lando.” She hugged Lando and then went to her father’s garage.

“Did they bring up how females don’t do as well?” Lewis asked, they’ve asked it before. He always ignored the question or changed the topic. He gave up convincing them.

“Yeah and I told him to put equal leveled drivers in the same car and then come back to me.” She laughed at her own comeback. Lewis high fives her and realized it didn’t bother her as much as he thought it might.

I completely read the request wrong so I actually have a different one too BUT this was the request (I’ll post the other one too)

@il0vereadingstuff @kallanfiona

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amybloomz · 5 months ago

Note

pt2 to ur recent fic? It’s soo good

ᯓ★ is it a crime to say i still need you?

where tobias erin rodgers was your best friend.

part one : everything eats and is eaten

author’s note: like two people requested a part two and that was enough for me to make one! i’d like to thank you for all the love i’m getting on the first one btw?? like hello?? i was not expecting it to reach more than like 10 people im ngl… also this is inspired by two reverse by adrianne lenker bc ofc it is

masterlist. , part three.

you slept in late— you always do during the summer. your mother never tends to bother you though, and she definitely doesn’t shake you awake with a panicked expression. you look at her with sleepy eyes, exasperated.

“what is so important that you decided to wake me so violently?”

“something terrible has happened.”

your eyes shoot open, like a light has been shined into them. your mother stops shaking you, opting to sit on the edge of your bed instead. that feeling from the before overwhelms you as your heart jumps into your throat. you don’t move. you don’t say anything. you don’t even breathe. you can’t.

“toby’s missing, and his father’s dead. the police believe that toby has done it but..”

she trails off, searching for something, anything in your expression.

you jump as drops of water fall down your face, their salty taste causing you to frown.

“is there a leak?”

your mother doesn’t reply with words, but her actions speak a million for her. she wraps her arms around you, pulling you close to her tightly, like she’ll never let go.

more droplets roll down your face— where is this water coming from?

an hour ticks by and your eyes feel like they’re on fire, burning you simply for existing. is this what hell is like? you push away from your mother. pity is written all over her face. or is it grief?

guilt consumes you, feeds on you. you knew something was wrong yesterday. you felt it eating away at your very core, your soul. it starved you of finding any way out of this endless rabbit hole of shame. he had told you he was going to do it, yet you did nothing to stop him. why didn’t you believe him?

you were still in yesterday’s clothes— you were too tired to change last night. grabbing at the sides of the hoodie, you pull it tighter to your body, bringing him closer to you. why didn’t you stop him?

your mother stays close by your side as you both make your way down the stairs. you don’t brush your hair. you don’t brush your teeth. you don’t even breathe. why can’t you breathe? keep walking.

you mindlessly sit down on the couch when there’s three intimidating knocks on the door. your mother gets it, and suddenly there’s three people in the same uniform asking you too many questions.

name? age? how do you know toby? when did you last see toby? why can’t you breathe?

you answer their questions the best you can while trying to seem as calm as you can. but you’re shaking, and your voice is wobbly. your mother brings the people in uniform some tea, and you some water.

one sip. two sips. three sips. glass shards on the floor. your mother apologises to the uniformed people profusely and begins to clean up your mess. you don’t move. you don’t even breathe.

the room is silent, and everything feels cold. your house barely feels cold, your mother always turns the heating up so high that she might as well be cooking you alive. so what was different?

the uniformed people leave after while, but they say they’ll be back. your mother shuts the door and locks it behind her. she doesn’t speak to you. she doesn’t even look at you. out of the corner of your eye, you see a tall shadow looming menacingly in the corner.

you wish to drown.

abandoning your seat on the couch, you make your way back up the stairs and lay on your bed. you figured if you laid there long enough, your body would decompose and you’d be nothing but ash and bone on top of the sheets. never breathing.

a knock on your window breaks your train of thought.

you sit up abruptly, staying still for a moment to allow your body to adjust to the change. hesitantly, you stand up and make your way to your window, looking outside. a dark figure could be seen outside, carrying what seemed to be an axe of sorts..? perhaps even hatchet. it was hard to see from your window.

the curious figure gestures to you, and then the door. they want you to let them in. out of the corner of your eye, you see it. the shadow. you swing your head around but it’s gone. are you going crazy? no.

you turn back to look out of the window again only to see the dark figure gone too. maybe.

you don’t breathe as you walk towards your bed. you don’t breathe as you get under the covers. you don’t breathe as you hide underneath them. maybe he had the right idea; maybe the tall man was coming for you now that he had toby.

is it that you are drowning?

getting out of bed after a sleepless slumber was useless, but realising things in your bedroom had moved around was even worse.

it was the small things you noticed first. like your red sweater was on the floor when it’s supposed to be on your clothing rack. maybe it fell off in the night? don’t be an idiot. some of your jewellery was missing. papers on your desk had been moved. your journal was left wide open with a pen on top of it. and you can’t breathe.

‘ believe me now? try not to drown. ’

#one shot #ao3 writer #creepypasta one shot #creepypasta #ticci toby x you #ticci toby x reader #ticci toby #x reader #x you #part two #cross posted on ao3 #toby rogers #tobias erin rogers #pls request #request me #requests open #reqs open

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munv · 7 months ago

Text

𝗠𝗔𝗗𝗘 𝗢𝗙 𝗦𝗧𝗢𝗡𝗘.

𝗜𝗻 𝘄𝗵𝗶𝗰𝗵, 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘄𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝘁𝘂𝗿𝗻𝗲𝗱 𝘁𝗼 𝘀𝘁𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝗮𝗹𝗼𝗻𝗴𝘀𝗶𝗱𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗶𝗿𝗲 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗹𝗱, 𝘀𝘁𝗿𝗶𝗽𝗽𝗲𝗱 𝗳𝗿𝗼𝗺 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘆𝗱𝗮𝘆 𝗹𝗶𝗳𝗲. 𝗦𝗲𝘁 𝗶𝗻𝘁𝗼 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗦𝘁𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝗔𝗴𝗲, 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗺𝗲𝗲𝘁 𝗻𝗲𝘄 𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗽𝗮𝗻𝗶𝗼𝗻𝘀

It was mid spring, the breeze softly embraced others, while another looked out the window with a fargone gaze.

you never really liked spring, honestly. It was all some sick excuse for people to say something like “its perfect to go outside!”. Really, you’d rather stay indoors while its winter. It gives you an excuse to stay away when your classmates makes plans to go to karaoke, things along that line.

During winter, the bitter frost would bite those who were vulnerable. But you never took it that way. You took it as something beautiful. People really never understood your affinity for winter when you explained it.

it was more of a personal, deep connection rather than a unornamented preference. At least to you it was.

Beliefs drove to conviction, and conviction led to acceptance. There were a lot of complicated things in this world you didn’t like too.

This was your belief, there was no need for all this extra stuff. Life is as fleeting as the fickle heart, so might as well do what you want, right?

sadly, not many others shared this sentiment. So here you were, in physical science, left alone to wander through your wild mind.

“ms [l/n], would you care to help us with this equation? At least, I hope that’s what you’re thinking about in the back there!” The woman at the front of the class called

Right. School. That thing? You’re in it right now. “It would be ‘c=2 x 3.14 x r’, Mrs Bato” you turned away from the window to face the woman. She was the type of teacher who would pick on whoever she saw fit, almost as if she was threatened by your presence, she often asked questions that disguised the malice behind them.

Maybe she felt challenged by your aloof demeanor. Not like you planned on sitting around in her class long enough to find out anyways. “ah..yes, that’s right” she said unenthusiastically, you think she was hoping for you to say something else.

After your answer, she moved onto her next victim for the period until the bell rang.

RINGGGG

as the bell rang, you quickly gathered up all your materials and placed them under your desk. “Don’t forget to review chapter 25 for next week’s homework!” The teacher called out to the fleeting students.

Making your way out the door amongst the lively crowd, you managed to navigate your way to the art room. It was especially rowdy today, perhaps they were having something good for lunch today. Not like didn’t bring your own. As you reached for the door handle of the club room, it suddenly slid open harshly before you.

There you came face to face with him. “Ah, [l/n]-san” his deep voice rumbled with kindness and a bit if curiosity as he looked down at you. “shishio-san” you bowed.

You’ve seen the dude around campus, considering the fact he was nick-named “The Strongest Primate High Schooler” it was hard to miss him. Tsukasa was one of the popular, yet humble type of guys.

”how are you today?” He smiled. Every now and then when he encountered you, he would try to make small talk. Obviously noting that you avoided him at any cost necessary.

Last thing you needed was his fangirls jumping you in the nearest alleyway.

“Fine. May I go in? Or do you have business to attend in there?” You pointed to the room. Lunch box in hand.

Tsukasa picked up you weren’t ready to have small talk by now. Nodding along he sidestepped out of the doorway. “See you later [l/n]”

”hopefully” you remarked before watching him walk down the hallway “not”

Not like he wronged your lineage in a past life of anything, you just had these weird vibes that you got in the gut whenever he pranced around the vicinity. You never bothered to entertain him, trusting the gut above all else.

Making your way inside the clubroom, the door was closed behind you quickly. Placing your lunch down on the nearest counter you searched inside the drawers for equipment.

“Acrylics, oils, sponges…” making sure you listed off everything you needed for todays piece, you put everything in a small bucket and walked towards the canvas.

The window for the club room was open, providing a refreshing breath of air. The faint smell of dried paint circulated the room. The quiet room lulled you into a sea of thoughts. There were no members today in the room since clubs weren't required on Monday's, for whatever reason that is. The outside world faded away as your brush gently stroke the canvas, each color more vibrant than the other. Today, you painted a forest with a few statues. It gave off the whole history, but poetic vibe. Each color blended perfect with the other, painting was an escape, you never had to explain or talk for yourself, since the art did it for you.

Maybe it was too nice today though. Normally you wouldn't find yourself in a such a calming situation, and noticing how the world was always dead set on ruining whatever peace coming your way, you became skeptical.

You hesitated on the next stroke before feeling the hairs on your body stand at full attention. "cmon..I doubt anything bad is gonna happen to me now!..I mean, all along in this club room? slim chance" you muttered to yourself with an exasperated sigh. Maybe you've just been tired recently? Gotta be it.

Your gaze shifted to the open window with curiosity before something caught your eye. Has..the horizon always been that green?? Maybe it's all that screen time getting to your head and playing tricks. However, the longer you stared, the more apparent it became that this was indeed not a trick on your eyes, but the horizon was indeed turning green. And for the green? it was coming right towards you. "holy shit, is the government fighting with aliens or something?" You began with a light joke, before sweating. "wait. Oh my God its real?" you began to back away from the window, dropping your brush in a panic. The pressure in the air made your breath hitched. Your pulse quickened and without thinking twice. You ducked down into the most protected looking corner of the room with quick prayers and a heavy heart. "please let this be some sick joke..!"

A strange sensation spread throughout your body, it was stiffening yet, a far cry from uncomfortable at the same time.

"did I just get fucking mummified?"

#{-muxis writes #x reader #x y/n #dr stone #dr stone x reader #headcanons #shishio tsukasa x reader #senku ishigami x reader #dr stone various x reader #dr stone series #nanami ryusui x reader #asagiri gen x reader #stanley snyder x reader #xeno houston wingfield x reader #saionji ukyo x reader #various x reader #dr stone fic

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literatureloverx · 4 months ago

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Just a quick question, do you really think Fyodor likes the idea of having children? I mean, I've always thought he doesn't really like children in general,,, But I want to know what you think about that mainly because I've seen many people paint him as that kind of father who forgets even his children's names (that or abandons them) I know it's out of character for him (as far as I know??) but I find it a bit hilarious… and sad at the same time (maybe because that reminds me of my father) anyway, that's all I hope I'm not bothering you bye! 🤗💝💕

Love, you are not bothering me at all. And I’m very sorry for answering this so late—time management issues on my part. Though, I should probably stop apologising so often; I feel like it might throw people off, haha.♥️

Dad!Fyodor, an analysis (kind of)

I actually find this question quite interesting because Fyodor is often mischaracterised when it comes to topics like family and children.

To answer your question—no, I don’t think Fyodor dislikes children in general, nor do I see him as the type to abandon his own or forget their names.

That interpretation is, in my opinion, entirely out of character for him. The idea of him being an apathetic or negligent father is more of a joke or an exaggeration rather than something rooted in his actual characterisation.

If anything, Fyodor is far too controlled and intentional in his actions to have children by accident, and if he did choose to have them, he wouldn’t simply ignore or discard them.

It’s important to remember that Fyodor is not a man who does things without purpose. He is methodical, calculating, and always several steps ahead. If he were to become a father, it wouldn’t be by mistake or as something he passively accepts—it would be a conscious decision, meaning he would be fully aware of the responsibilities that come with it. And given how much he values intelligence, discipline, and devotion, I don’t see him taking a careless approach to raising a child.

However, that doesn’t mean his approach to fatherhood would be conventional. Fyodor does not love in the way most people do. His love is not warm, nor is it entirely unconditional—it is something that exists within his own framework of control, value and purpose.

He is not a man to indulge in sentimentality. Even if he were to have a child, it wouldn’t be because of an emotional longing for family life but because he saw a reason for it.

He wouldn’t be a father in the traditional sense—he wouldn’t coddle, nor would he offer affection in the way most people expect from a parent—unless his darling comes into play, the one who gently coaxes him into becoming more of a traditionally “good” father to their child.

Even then, that does not mean he would be absent. If anything, he would be deeply involved in his child’s life, though not necessarily in a way that others might consider healthy. His manipulativeness would be ever-present, not out of malice, but because control is intrinsic to who he is. His child would not be left to navigate the world freely; he would guide them, shape them, ensuring they align with his ideals (because he is always right, obviously). His influence would be inescapable, woven into every aspect of their development.

That being said, Fyodor does not waste his time on what he does not value. If his child is his, then they are bound to him in a way that ensures they are never forgotten or overlooked. He would watch them closely, ensuring they do not stray, subtly (or not so subtly) moulding their thoughts, their perspectives, their very sense of self. He would demand excellence, not just in intellect but in loyalty. Love, to him, is likely all-encompassing, possessive, a quiet but undeniable force.

So no, I do not see Fyodor as a father who would neglect or abandon his child. That is far too passive for him. His love is not about distance or disinterest. It is about control, influence, and an ever-present claim. A child of his would never be forgotten.

#bsd fyodor #bungou stray dogs fyodor #fyodor dostoevsky #fyodor dostoyevsky bsd #fyodor x reader #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungou stray dogs #fyodor x you #bsd

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azullumi · 2 years ago

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“it’s a quarter after one, i’m all alone, and i need you now” ; wanderer

summary — how does he react to you calling him in the middle of the night over some silly reason?

pairing — wanderer (w/gender-neutral reader)

tags — fluff, established relationship, modern settings, not proof-read (i never proof-read) ; ficlet/scenario

words — 760

note — how do people even write dialogues rhat smoothly like i write a single sentencd of whatever they’re saying and i just think, “oh no they won’t say that” and i have to rewrite it 5 more times

a loud sound of a ring echoes throughout the room, disrupting the peaceful flow of tranquil silence that rests in the corners of the place, and abruptly pulling him out of his sleep. wanderer groans, hand reaching out to grab his phone that sits on the nightstand.

the flash of the screen blinded him for a moment, causing him to squint his eyes until his vision adjusted to the brightness.

1:15. the numbers on the very top of his screen says. displayed along with it was your caller id, your contact saved as a nickname that he gave you.

although he didn’t have to question who was calling him at this time as he knew it was you—you were the only exception to his do not disturb focus of his phone, the only contact whose notifications can go through the strict barriers of the status.

the persistent melody continues to ring for a moment before he answers, “this better be important.” despite the nature of his words, there lingered no hint of malice in his tone but instead, a curious blend of weary patience and unspoken understanding. he didn’t mind you bothering him even if it’s nothing important—your intrusion was always a welcome one.

“hey, were you sleeping?”

“not anymore, obviously. what is it?” the line carried the subtle rustle of movement, the telltale sound of rustled sheets, as wanderer shifted and sat upright from where he was, his head resting against the headboard as he waited for you to answer.

“can you accompany me as i go get water?”

a confused ‘huh?’ comes out from his line. just the single syllable itself wrapped with layers of many words, asking you if you were seriously saying that. if you really called him at this time just so you could have him accompany you with the mundane task of getting water.

“i just watched something scary, okay? it’s not my

fault that the house in the movie looked similar to mine and also do you know what time—don’t laugh!”

“are you genuinely afraid over something as trivial as that?” wanderer says amidst the fading echoes of his laughter, leaving a ghost of what might pass for a smile on his expression. he seems amused over the predicament that you were having; that is just like him, finding entertainment in your suffering.

“whatever, i’m going to go get my water now.” what proceeded was the sound of your footsteps, indicating your journey to the kitchen. “don’t you dare hang up on me.”

“i wasn’t planning to.”

and as if i would. but the unspoken words dissolved on his throat before he could even get himself to say it, leaving him with nothing but silence as he listened to your voice instead, talking about whatever as if a soothing balm that eases the fear which nestles in your nerves.

“i saw this cat earlier this morning and it was so grumpy. it reminded me of you.”

“you think that in every grumpy cat that you see.”

“well, you act like one.”

in that moment, the simple act of conversing between you two becomes a lifeline, bridging the gap between fear and solace. your topics jumped from one point to another, never letting the silence fill in the moment—wanderer never ceases to respond to whatever you say, a testament of how he’s always there for you despite the playful teasing sprinkled throughout.

there was the sound of the door closing before he hears you say: “got my water now.”

“figured.”

silence envelopes both sides of the line, albeit, it only lasted for a short moment before being broken up by your voice.

“thanks for picking up the phone.” i mean, he could have chosen to just ignore the ring and continue to sleep but no, he didn’t. instead, he chose to answer and comply with your silly little request because your ass was too scared to go out of your room in the middle of the night, thinking that someone or something was going to come after and chase you just like that one scene in what you watched. he stayed with you all throughout, letting the comfort of his voice dispel the shadows that threatened to linger—even when he was scaring you and telling you that he can hear something.

“not like i don’t answer every time.” you could call him, ring his phone many times no matter what time it is, and he would pick up the phone every single time; that’s just how he is, for you and only you.

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badgalsasuke · 6 months ago

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Hi, how are you? Let’s say I’m new to the Naruto fandom. I discovered the series when I was 12, but I only started following it recently. I started reading the manga not too long ago, but since I was 12, I’ve never liked Sakura. However, as I mentioned, I don’t know much about the story or the Naruto fandom, though I’ve noticed there are many toxic fans of Sakura and Sasusaku.

I have a few questions I’d like to ask because I really liked your perspective on many things. I must admit I feel a bit embarrassed and afraid of bothering you with my questions, which might seem a bit silly or even incoherent. But I’ve noticed you always present the facts clearly and show who Sakura really is. So, I wanted to ask if I could send you these questions without being a bother, especially since you might have already talked about or answered them before. Also, knowing myself, they would probably be quite a few and maybe a bit lengthy.

First Question:

Did Sakura really stalk Sasuke? I've seen many people claiming this, while others completely deny it, so I’m not sure what to believe.

Second Question:

Can the novels and databooks from the Naruto universe be considered canon to the main story? Once again, I’ve come across various opinions about this, and I’d like to understand how it works.

Third Question:

Is it true that Naruto almost harassed Sakura by trying to kiss her while disguised as Sasuke? I came across this argument in a video made by a Sakura fan, where they discussed the hate the character receives. I have screenshots from the video if it helps clarify this point.

This is the whole screenshot for context.

Fourth Question:

Are many of Sakura’s accomplishments in the story real, or were most of them made up by her fans? I’ve seen discussions about titles and achievements attributed to her, but I couldn’t find confirmation that they’re true. Once again, I have screenshots of where I found these claims if you’d like to check them. (I also saw on the Naruto Wiki that one of Sakura's nicknames is "Second Tsunade." Is that really true?)

Since this is coming from a Sakura fan account, I highly doubt that it could be true.

To be honest, I’ll stop here because I’m feeling a bit embarrassed and don’t want to be a bother. Please only respond if you feel comfortable addressing these questions, as I know some of them might sound a little silly or incoherent.

If there’s any grammar mistake, it’s because I’m translating this using a translator, so the translation might not be perfect.

Hello!

Don't worry about your grammar, your ask is perfectly understandable.

First, welcome to the fandom! I really hope you enjoy this community and Naruto as a series.

Now, let's go bit by bits.

Did Sakura really stalk Sasuke? I've seen many people claiming this, while others completely deny it, so I’m not sure what to believe.

In the manga you won't see Sakura literally stalking Sasuke hence why some people deny she did it. However, in an interview Kishimoto called Sakura a stalker back in 2006

Can the novels and databooks from the Naruto universe be considered canon to the main story? Once again, I’ve come across various opinions about this, and I’d like to understand how it works.

The novels are filler, period. Anyone who tries to tell you they're canon are het!shippers coping that Kishimoto never gave them any official content for their ship so they have to settle for the filler novels.

People might think novels are canon because they're official content but there's a difference between official filler content (videogames, naruto filler episodes, novels and anything comissioned by Studio Pierrot and Shueisha editoria) and official canon content which is everything written by Kishimoto. They're both called official because even though filler has no impact on the story, it's still licensed/copyrighted content you need to pay to get.

The only official canon content meaning it's written by Kishimoto is the Naruto manga (700 chapters), Naruto Gaiden, Minato One-Shot and Boruto The movie.

Movies like Road To Ninja and The Last are hybrids in the sense that Kishimoto was involved in the projects creation but it was ultimately other people who contributed more to them and even started them.

As for the databooks, they're not canon either because Kishimoto didn't write them (he didn't have time to do so). The information you'll find in them often contradicts what you see in the manga. However, they're still useful resources because they contain Kishimoto interviews and a few comments here and there on the illustrations. You can read more about it here

Third Question: Is it true that Naruto almost harassed Sakura by trying to kiss her while disguised as Sasuke? I came across this argument in a video made by a Sakura fan, where they discussed the hate the character receives. I have screenshots from the video if it helps clarify this point.

No, Naruto did not transform into Sasuke to assault Sakura or trying to take advantage of her. Naruto transformed into Sasuke to ask her what she thought of him, Naruto, that's it. It was Sakura who tried to kiss Naruto thinking she was going to kiss Sasuke, Naruto did not initiate the kiss attempt and then he left because he got diarrhea.

As for the assault, it's also Sakura the one that's extremely creepy towards Sasuke. Not Naruto towards Sakura. She's the creepy character.

Here she's thinking about Sasuke (it was actually Naruto) looking at her "with bedroom eyes"

Here she's planning on how "overwhelm Sasuke with sex appeal"

here she's thinking on how if Sasuke had to pee then she would've liked to see his penis.

Fourth Question: Are many of Sakura’s accomplishments in the story real, or were most of them made up by her fans? I’ve seen discussions about titles and achievements attributed to her, but I couldn’t find confirmation that they’re true. Once again, I have screenshots of where I found these claims if you’d like to check them. (I also saw on the Naruto Wiki that one of Sakura's nicknames is "Second Tsunade." Is that really true?)

I'm gonna go based on the accomplishments listed on the screenshot you share.

-Is Sakura the strongest Kunoichi? No, this is one of the most pervasive talking points in the fandom to the point is treated like the truth but compared to Tsunade, who is stated in the manga to be the strongest Kunoichi that has ever lived, Sakura is defeated multiple times by enemies that Tsunade, managed to defeat or at least, harm. Tsunade managed to defeat both Kabuto and Orochimaru.

But Sakura couldn't do anything when she, Naruto, Kakashi and Yamato encountered Kabuto and Orochimaru and was rendered unconscious for the rest of the fight.

What's funny here is that even though both Kabuto and Sakura received the same impact, Kabuto did not lose consciousness. On top of that, Sakura had to be saved by Yamato

Sakura charged against Madara without a plan or strategy, doesn't even scratch Madara and then has to be saved by Naruto and Sasuke, Madara mocked her for this and called her "the side show"

Meanwhile Tsunade was actually able to hit Madara

-Is Sakura the smartest Kunoichi? No, during the chuunin exams she was the only rookie who did NOT understand the written test. Neither the first part about the first nine questions nor the second part about tenth question. Everybody else did understand the first part of the written test and Naruto helped everybody pass the test by answering the tenth question that was more of a test of attitude/will than skills [LINK]. On top of that she's never able to come up with strategies to fight against an enemy. When Naruto and Sasuke were unconscious at the forest of the Death and Sakura had to take care of them, she could only come up with flawed traps the enemy spotted right away and when she attempted to fight the enemy she got beat up so bad, two teams (InoShikaCho and Neji, Tenten and Rock Lee) and Sasuke had to come to her rescue. When it comes to both bell tests, it was Sasuke the first time and then Naruto the second time who had to come up with strategies on how to take the bells away from Kakashi while she was just there.

-The screenshot calls her Konoha's only female pillar, I have no idea where they got that from. I don't know if they're trying to insert here in the Hokage/Shadow Hokage thing Naruto and Sasuke are, or what.

-Director of Konoha hospital, I think this is true.

-Member of Team 7, this is not an accomplishment. Iruka made the teams randomly, it's not like all Team 7 in shinobi history happened to be made up of the strongest ninjas and there's this requirement to be outstanding to be a part of team 7. It's a random made up team and Naruto and Sasuke ended up being exceptional shinobi, the greatest of all time actually. Sakura stans are just trying to make it seem like she's also a part of that.

By randomly I mean that Team 7 was created as a regular random team instead of an elite team where only the best of the best can enter, not that the students are randomly selected

-Founder of Children Mental Health Clinic. This is false and comes from a filler novel. Canonically the character that opened up an institution to support orphan children is Kabuto, as seen in Naruto Gaiden

-Sakura is a Jonin and learned the techniques from Tsunade, a Sannin, but she, as far as I'm aware, did not come up with her own, which is what made the Sannin, well, the Sannin. Naruto and Sasuke were able to create their own techniques unlike her, though, like Rasenshuriken and Chidori Nagashi, respectively.

So, as you can see most of what's listed there are false made up accomplishments to try to make her seem like she's on the level of Sasuke and Naruto but in reality she's a pretty mediocre kunoichi.

Anyway, don't be embarrased to ask questions, we were all new to a fandom at some point and wanted our doubts and questions answered :)

#ask reply #anti sakura #anti sakura haruno #anti sakura stans #they're so annoying

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oldschool-lolita-archive · 12 days ago

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hello ! i know you probably get a lot of asks like this so im sorry, there is no pressure to actually respond ,but ive been really inspired by your blog and all these beautiful photos that i really want to build up a wardrobe like this.. it all feels so intimidating and expensive, and i just dont know anything , but when i look at the clothes i feel like i could die i want to wear it so bad!!!..

thank you for sharing these things.. i was wondering if you have any advice...!

Hello dear anon!

This question touched my heart because this is exactly how I felt when I was beginning in lolita fashion. The sentiment of “when I look at these clothes I feel like I could die I want to wear it so bad!” Is extremely evocative of how it is to lust after this lifestyle so much that it is painful!

♡♤♢♧

The unfortunate reality is that it will take years to build a functional lolita wardrobe. High effort but high reward.

I feel like not many people talk about how long it takes to put together your first coordinate when you are starting from scratch- even if you choose comparatively inexpensive items such as from taobao or secondhand, there will still be a wait time from when your clothes are made or dispatched, or held in a warehouse, and then shipped internationally, and then going through the customs process. Your first full coord might be the most expensive one since you could be purchasing the basics for the first time (bloomers, petticoat, blouse, shoes, socks, ect).

This wait time was extremely agonising to me when all that I wanted was to begin wearing these clothes at once! And I didn’t even come from a fast fashion background (I was wearing vintage fashion before lolita) it’s just that the longing was so strong…

♡♤♢♧

For me, I kept the demons at bay by mimicking lolita as much as I could with my ordinary wardrobe. I wore a black dress with grey knee length socks that i’m sure were purchased for school uniform years ago. Things such as mary jane shoes, a white blouse, novelty bags intended for children, alice bows and socks with a bit of lace on them can be found relatively easily on your local high street or secondhand shops. If you have the materials, you could also try to make your own headdress or even bloomers. Although it was a little painful that my lolita knowledge far outmatched my physical lolita capabilities in that first year, I was resolute that some day I would be able to admire my own lolita collection.

If money is tight and you are limited by your own wardrobe, it is important that when you do make a lolita purchase that it is well thought out and not just an impulse buy. Consider if it is something you could see yourself wearing in public, if it suits the weather and so on. There will be a trial and error period where you set your heart on something and it either ends up not fitting or you don’t like the way that it looks on you. This is character building! It will inform what kind of things end up in your forever wardrobe.

♡♤♢♧

My favourite beginner lolita memory is when I bought a lolita blouse for the first time and would set it out on my chair every day just to gaze adoringly at its beauty. It was a physical contact point for a world that had up until now only existed inside my screen.

Anyway, I see you anon babylita! I feel your pain and have been in your shoes. I wish you all the best in finding your feet in this fashion. Please do not worry about bothering me with asks. I’m a completely normal person behind this blog, and i’m super chill. I’ll answer anything.

#a thousand lolita blessings to you

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kirarinlovesidols · 9 months ago

Text

Prologue part 1.

You feel nothing. See nothing. Hear nothing.

Another day where you find yourself lost.

How many days has is it been? How much time? You do not remember. All you know is that you’re not good enough, nothing compared to Greater Lord Kusanali.

Your name is Lesser Lord Rukkhadevata and you are currently, well, have been, held captive in your nation for 500 years. But what kind of sin would you have committed to deserve such a mind numbing punishment? being born.

The sages of the akademiya considered your existence a threat to Greater lord Kusanali's reign, after all what kind of purpose would you serve if not to inherit her legacy?...you didn’t resent them though. As far as you were concerned you weren’t supposed to exist at all.

Essentially you are nothing more than Irminsul’s plan B, a spare in case the original died, which did not happen even if it was supposed to. The greater lord herself did not understand it. After exhausting her power she was supposed to lose all memories and regress back to a younger form, all that happened was the latter. Maybe it was a miracle? maybe it was Deshret’s doing? no one knew. So she continued to reign as an archon despite her much smaller form and limited power.

She was supposed to resent you, yet she never did. Fiercely against your captivity she tried her hardest to reason with the sages, you are a living being as well, you deserve to live freely. However it did not work. They had become overly protective of her to the point where they would even make decisions for her, with or without consent.

You were grateful she tried at all.

You wish you could’ve done more for her and Sumeru people, you wish you could’ve experienced the world outside of your cage. Such desires are nothing more than selfish whims that should not exist, but….is it so wrong? for you too to wish happiness?....

⟥────────✤────────────────────⟤

When you woke up you were in a carriage.

The trotting of the horses and the little sways of the coffin worked to almost lull you back to sleep. Except you don’t remember getting in a carriage or…leaving your cage for that matter.

Your eyes immediately shot open only to be met with darkness and the feeling of being quite literally stuck in an enclosure. You tried to move in a panic, push the lid off by any chance, to no avail. You were too weak if it was greater lord Kusanali she would’ve had calmly assessed the situation and found a way to get out in seconds. But you’re the lesser lord, you’re not capable of such feats.

Trying to calm yourself down with deep breaths, you hear a weird noise…almost…akin to scratching? and…is that a voice? you leaned in further to hear better.

“I better hurry up and find that uniform before someone spots me..”

There it was! the voice sounded a bit high and kinda…scratchy? silly? you couldn’t tell very well…

“Urgggh... This lid weighs a ton!” The figure seemed to be trying it’s hardest to open the “enclosure” which was more likely a coffin due to it’s overall dimensions, you deduced, by force. Still it seemed like they too were no match to it. It seemed very well made, you wondered if whatever was happening was an assassination attempt by the sages? if it were why would they bother getting you a coffin? you doubted it was out of respect. Were they swindled by that one funeral parlor in Liyue you heard people talk about?.....

“Dammit…it won’t budge…then i’ll have to use my secret weapon! Try this on for size! Mya-ha!”

Secret weapon? what? what were they trying to do? you started panicking again as the source of the voice seemed to do something to the coffin. Were they planning to crush you to death? your hands trembled in fear as the answer to your question came with the weird smell of burning wood.

…Wait….

THEY WERE BURNING IT? WERE THEY PLANNING ON EXECUTING YOU LIKE A WITCH?

Now that was too much. You might be selfless but really, you didn’t deserve to be burned at the stake– err, coffin. Maybe it was the joined efforts of you, the adrenaline going through your veins, the fire and the person who might be your “killer” but the lid finally opened.

Blinded temporarily by the light of the moon you could see exactly who it was.

“Now to grab the goods…” The voice said in a sing-song tone that immediately stopped as it looked at your robed form.

“What?! You ain't supposed to be awake!” The person, or better yet, creature. Seemed very upset at you being conscious. However you couldn’t really provide an answer to it, your predicament was a surprise to you as much as it were to it.

“A…talking…cat…?” Not only did the cat speak but it also seemed to have fire coming out of it’s ears. Was this a new elemental creature? your knowledge about teyvat was limited.

“How... How DARE YOU! I am no CAT! I'm Grim, sorcerer extraordinaire!” Grim, the “sorcerer extraordinaire” stomped his foot on the ground of the carriage as it pouted.

Absolutely fascinating, how did this creature even work? Your eyes followed his movements almost in a trance.

“Tch. Whatever. You...human! Just gimme your uniform, and be quick about it!” He then smirked showing his sharp teeth. It seems like he wanted to intimidate you. It wasn’t working.

“My…uniform? but i’m not…wearing one…” You were pretty sure your garments weren’t an uniform, you weren’t a student at the akademiya. As if to prove your point you looked down only to see you were clad in a robe of sorts.

“What?...a robe..?” You analysed the fabric, it seemed expensive…akin to silk? and dark in color. You thought the colors were gorgeous, you weren’t allowed to wear such colors as the sages deemed them….”impure” as if…they actually cared about you.

“Stop pretending to not know anything! also don’t ignore me! now…hand over the uniform!” The pyro cat seemed to adopt a much more aggressive tone and stance, it seemed to be preparing to use fire on you.

“Cause if you don't...you're gonna regret it! You watched for a few seconds as his little body seemed to intake air. You took it as your immediate cue to jump off the coffin and run.

“Am i under some kind of illusion…or dreaming?”

You wondered as you ran as far as your legs could take you, ignoring Grim’s protests to stop running.

⟥────────✤───────────────────────⟤

You were NOT used much less built for this level of activity or exercise. Why didn’t you just fly actually? wait, are your powers even working? You examined your hands amidst ragged breaths.

Your legs ached and you noticed you were wearing shoes. Truly, what was going on here? were the sages torturing you for their sick pleasure? haven’t they made you suffer enough? what else did they want.

And even worse than that was how this place…didn’t remind you of teyvat at all. It looked gloomy and scary, right out of one of those fontainian horror movies you heard so much about. The palace of Surasthana as much as it was your prison, at least it was built using warm colors, the sun’s light could peek through the windows just as much as the moonlight, it wasn’t scary. Just lonely.

This though? this place was downright horrifying. Brick walls, eerie green candles and a lot of gray, black and colder palettes. You audibly gulped as you walked through a place that could only be described as a library. You didn’t even realize you entered a building.

The only thing remotely comforting was the smell of books. You had to read a lot of them to get the unfortunately inferior amount of knowledge you have right now. Possessing that Snezhnayan bionic puppet, Katherine and using her as a proxy you managed to hear things from other regions, see the world outside…even if you couldn’t feel it with your own body.

“Just…what would… she do if she were in my place?”

Speaking to yourself outloud was your mistake, really. Take that L.

“Foolish human! Did you really think you could slip away from ME?” The pyro cat creature found you.

“Now, unless you wanna get burned to a crisp, take off that—” Some kind of rope…or…whip? seemed to have constricted Grim before he actually got the chance to try and steal your clothes again.

“Me-YEOW! That hurt! What gives?” You watched confused and a bit relieved as a masked man approached you both.

“Consider it tough love.” He said as he brushed some dust off of his…very expensive looking coat.

“Ah, I've found you at last. Splendid. I trust you're one of this year's new students? My, were you ever eager to make your debut.” He questioned you, still holding Grim hostage.

“Student? what…? Sir, i’m–” You were rudely cut off by him.

“And bringing a poorly trained familiar with you? That is a clear violation of the school's rules.” The man used a tone you could only describe as used by a disappointed parent scolding their child.

You don’t know why but you felt immediately ashamed, disappointing people seemed to be something you did…a lot.

“As if I'd serve some lowly human! Now lemme go!” Grim struggled against his bindings as if he had enough strength to break through, it was quite pathetic.

“Yes, yes. Rebellious familiars always say that. Do be quiet for a bit, won't you?” The man rolled his eyes ignoring the very clear “Mmmrph!” that came out of the now, covered, grim’s mouth.

He only sighed as he looked at you again, ready to resume his “sermon”.

“Dear me. Of all the students I've dealt with, you're the first with temerity enough to open their own gate and step out of it. Does the very notion of patience elude you?” At that you could only lower your head in shame. What else were you supposed to do? be burned alive by some creature you’ve never seen before? you hated how weak you were to figures of authority.

“I’m…i didn’t–....” You tried to explain only to yet AGAIN be cut off. This was getting old, very fast.

“No matter. Your orientation has already begun. Let us return to the Mirror Chamber”. He then put a hand on your shoulder and forcefully started to push you to where he wanted you to go.

“W-wait! sir! what do you mean by chamber?” You quite literally tried your best to resist or at least slow the drag of your feet but being in a cage for 500 years didn’t do you any favors in the physical strength department, even a child was stronger, probably.

“You awakened in a room full of gates, did you not? All of the students here at the campus arrived by passing through such gates. Although typically the students have restraint enough to wait until I open them before waking up.” He said in a matter of fact tone as if you were stupid for not knowing any of that.

“So….these coffins are…gates?” Something like teleportation wasn’t unheard of in Teyvat, just not very common.

The man nodded. “The design is intended to symbolize a parting with your former world, and a rebirth into a new one.”

He had just dropped that bombshell as if it were nothing. You had the feeling but…it really did seem like…this wasn’t Sumeru…or Teyvat for that matter. Such information only served to make you even more nervous, what did these people even want ? and what in celestia were they talking about?!

“But now is not the time for such prattle. You've a student orientation to attend! Go on, now. Make haste.” He kept “””””””””gently guiding you”””””””””””””” through this terrific building and only more questions popped in your head.

And since this wasn’t your world, the least you could do was gather info.

“Sir…could you tell me where we are?”

At that he raised a brow, or…at least you think he did, you can’t really tell with the mask.

“Hm? Have you not fully regained consciousness? The timespace teleportation must have addled your memories…” He mumbled to himself before just shrugging.

“Well, these things happen, I suppose. I shall explain it to you while we walk. Truly, my magnanimity is boundless.” Now it was your turn to raise a brow. Wasn’t it very rude and overall….arrogant to say that about oneself? you didn’t know, your social skills aren’t the best.

He cleaned his throat before extending an arm as if doing a presentation as you two walked and said with a smile.

“This is Night Raven College. It is an institution for students the world over who demonstrate a rare aptitude for magic. It is the most prestigious academy of its sort in all of Twisted Wonderland.” He sounded awfully proud of this academy…and…magic? so they did have something similar to visions…that would be easier for you to understand how this place, Twisted wonderland was it?, worked.

“And I am Dire Crowley. Having been entrusted with its care by the chairman, I serve as headmage.”

Oh. So…He was like….one of the sages back at the akademiya. A high figure of authority…great…..

“I see….and…what about the magic….?” You had to keep digging, this man is your only ticket way out of this place.

“Only those who the Dark Mirror perceives as having a talent for magic are admitted to the college. Those who are selected are summoned to the campus through those "gates," which can appear anywhere.” The dark mirror????? what??? he explained one thing only to give you another question, this sure is…an experience.

“A black carriage bearing one such gate should have come to meet you.” Oh! right! the carriage!

“Well…i do remember the horses….” More specifically the fact you almost gave in to the noise and almost slept again.

“That black carriage serves to receive a student chosen by the Dark Mirror. It too bears a gate that connects to this campus. And as you know, sending a carriage to meet someone on a special day is a time-honored tradition.” It…indeed was…but you really only saw that happening for Greater Lord Kusanali, never for you.

you just sighed at the resurfacing of the memory and failed to realize you were finally where this man says you were supposed to be.

“Now, let us attend to your orientation.” You could feel your legs almost want to give out, this was scary in a way no one prepared you for. Looking behind you you saw the pyro cat still struggling and gave him a look of pity. You wish you could set him free, even if he did try to hurt you….

⟥────────✤───────────────────────⟤

You thought you were mortified before? Oh no! your past self is absolutely wrong! this is way worse actually!

You stood frozen as you watched as countless people were standing, some seated, at this mirror chamber place. However there was one thing that absolutely ticked you off. These were all men. No women in sight.

As the Lesser Lord you never managed to have many conversations with others but even when possessing Katherine you still had to deal with some weird guys who thought it was a good idea to hit on the poor puppet, they probably did not know. So you know what it’s like, and to be thrown to the wolves like this is just awful to say the least.

You watched as a red headed boy talked to some students near him. His voice seemed imposing and his expression was scary. Archons you want out of here immediately.

“We're done with orientation and dorm assignments? All right, new students—let me be clear. At Heartslabyul House, I am the law. Break the rules, and it's off with your head!”

You could feel your body flinch at his tone. It reminded you of the way the sages talked to you. When can you go home?

“Well, that ceremony was as boring as ever.” A deep voice followed right after with a yawn.

“I'm going back to the dorm. If you're in Savanaclaw House, follow me.” This boy seemed a lot…calmer? if not outright just…lazy? your eyes went straight to the tail that swayed behind him as he walked. Oh so he was a demi-human? back in teyvat you remember dealing with the chief of the forest rangers while acting as Katherine a few times so this is nothing new to you. At least there was some kind of familiarity other than their so called…”magic”.

“New students! Allow me to be the first to congratulate you on your achievement. As dorm leader of Octavinelle House, I am honored to have the opportunity to support you in what I hope will be a fulfilling campus experience.” A boy with glasses said in a very “charismatic” tone. But you could tell it was fake or at least forced, akin to one of the merchants that would come to Sumeru, more specifically port Ormos, to sell their merchandise or scam some poor adventurer. You didn’t spend 500 years observing people for nothing, it was really all you could do.

“Hey, does anyone know where the headmage went? He disappeared midway through the ceremony…” This time a boy that could only be described as “pretty” spoke. His skin seemed flawless, you could only wonder how does one achieve that effect.

“Some headmage he is, lmao.” Was that….some kind of floating device? Now that was something you didn’t consider. Fontaine was the most advanced country in Teyvat and you were aware of their accomplishments but…you never stopped to actually think about how this world might differ from yours on that aspect. Yeah, you just hope you can just get back.

“Maybe he had a tummyache?” A boy with red eyes questioned as he looked around for the figure that was literally beside you.

“I most certainly did not!” He sounded terribly offended by that.

“Ah, speak of the devil.” The red haired boy looked over to Crowley, expecting him to explain his whereabouts or at least announce the end of the ceremony.

“If you must know, I was searching for the new student who'd failed to show for orientation. You are the only one who has yet to be assigned a dorm. Step up to the Dark Mirror, and be quick about it. I'll watch your weasel.” And hold Grim did he do, the cat looked like he was about to tear his fingers off if only he could open his mouth.

Still you wish he didn’t just say all of that cause now you have all attention on you and you don’t…like that one bit. You could feel the stares of multiple students on you so you raised your hands up to drag the fabric of the robe closer to your face, so you could hide the blush starting to rise out of shame.

“Damn there’s always a sucker who wakes up late as hell, huh?”

“For real. Wonder if he didn’t read the schedule.”

“What a loser, lol.”

“Did you just fucking say lol in real life?”

And now they were even gossiping about you, great! this day couldn’t get any wose, could it?

You walked to the mirror while hoping to god no one would notice your mortified aura or anything.

“State your name.” The mirror seemed to have a face in it….or a mask? you couldn’t tell. It sounded awfully imposing so you did as you were told.

“R-” You stopped yourself immediately. Your name is way too long, it’s better to just shorten it.

“Rukkha…” it was easier to pronounce than Rukkhadevata, for sure.

“The nature of your soul is......unclear to me.” The mirror seemed at loss.

“What did you just say?” Crowley had to do a double take to be sure of what he had just heard.

“I sense…a great magical power from this one…however…it is not the same as others…it’s a lot more…condensed. I cannot comprehend it. Therefore, no dorm would be appropriate for this young lady.”

As soon as the mirror said lady you immediately hid you face in your hands in even bigger shame. It was easy to deduce this was an all boys academy since there was no female here other than you but to be outed like this in front of everyone? yeah, you hoped this wouldn’t happen.

“Wait? a girl? does NightRaven takes girls now?”

“Dude! who even CARES! it beats going to school with a bunch of sweaty men any day!”

“I hope she’s cute.”

“This is an absolute W actually, i love NightRaven, i take back everything i said about it before.”

“Are you suggesting that the black carriage went to receive a person with unstable magic and a woman at that?! But that is absurd! The student selection process has not erred once in its century of existence! How could this have happened?”

You immediately raise your face off your hands only to stare at Crowley in disbelief. Your powers were NOT unstable. How did he interpret the mirror’s words in such a way? that was so rude for no reason.

Before you could even think about defending yourself the pyro cat of earlier took advantage of the headmage’s surprise to break free from his constraints. He puffed his little chest and pointed a paw to himself.

“ME! Let ME have this student's seat! unlike her my magic isn’t unstable at all and i’m a boy!”

For the last time your powers were NOT unstable.

“Now, not so fast you hyperactive weasel!” The man looked prepared to absolutely bind Grim again.

“Look, I'll show you! My spells're the cat's meow!” He then started breathing fire everywhere. This silly cat is willing to use pyro elemental energy without regard of people’s safety yet your powers are considered unstable? You wondered if this is what young people call “being done”.

“Everyone, get down!” The red headed boy immediately warned his fellow classmates. Well, despite being that authoritarian at least he seemed to care about those under him.

“AHHHHH! HELP! I'm on fire over here!” You simply stood there in mortified horror as chaos literally broke loose. You could feel your patience slipping by the second.

Unfortunately there was nothing you could do about the fire as your dendro powers would only make the flames stronger, it would be stupid.

“Someone catch that blasted animal before it sets the entire school ablaze!”

That though? you could do.

You raised your hand in Grim’s direction and concentrated. If things were still normal then you should be able to do this.

Dendro energy started to accumulate near Grim who could only look at the strange green glow under his feet. With a flick of your wrist a dendro construct bloomed into sight. The little cat’s rampage was over just as quick as it started, he was now stuck inside a cube.

“Myaaah! what is this? don’t think such a flimsy thing can hold the great Grim, i’m just gonna burn a hole right through it!”

With a big inhale he tried to use one of his “signature” fire spells only to see it had done no damage, he was stuck.

“You need to be quiet, i’ll let you go when you calm down.” You said with a strained voice.

“Just what kind of spell is that? never seen it before.”

“Dunno? maybe it’s her UM.”

“Kinda cool though.”

You walked to Crowley as the cube that held Grim captive followed floating behind you.

“Here he is. He won’t be able to escape but please don’t drop him, he’ll get hurt.”

Was all you said before gently motioning the construct to settle on the man’s hands. At that the headmage just blinked owlishly.

You then finally took off your hood, you felt a little angry now and it was getting honestly hard to see. A bit of your snow white hair spilled out of the fabric as you let it fall free.

“This creature, is not mine. I’ve been trying to tell you that. You would know if only you didn’t cut me off.” You only sighed in stress as your long elf-like ears flicked slightly in irritation.

“Now that things are solved and your students have managed to do something about the fire, can we talk like normal and civillized people? i hope so. My patience is running thin.”

At that your eyes seemed to glow with a dangerous light for a split second.

Crowley could only wonder what kind of creature was unleashed inside his beloved NightRaven.

While you could only hear the voices in your head remind you that this is why they had locked you up. You couldn’t inherit Greater Lord Kusanali’s divine throne, you were just not benevolent enough.

And you doubt you'll ever be.

⟥────────✤───────────────────────⟤

Holy mother of god, this took HOURS.

I'm tired as fuck!

Anyway i hope this isn't too cringe, i'm sorry, i tried :"^)

Part 2 should be coming soon.

#genshin impact x reader #kirarinwritting #fem reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #Rukkha!Reader

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kikyoupdates · 1 month ago

Text

Tears of a Villainess ⭑˚🗡️⭑ ℎ𝑖𝑟𝑒𝑑 𝑔𝑢𝑛

yandere!ocs x reader

yandere, reverse harem, isekai, original characters x fem!reader, slowburn, slowburn yandere

Reincarnation isn't as great as it sounds, especially when you've been reborn as none other than the villainess. Fated to die if you stand in the heroine's way, you immediately resolve to distance yourself from the plot. As long as you have nothing to do with any of the relevant characters, surely, you'll be able to avoid an untimely death. But in a horrible turn of events, the heroine ends up wanting to get close to you. Are you really doomed to meet the villainess' tragic end? Or is there an even more sinister fate that awaits you?

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You’ve been on Carmine’s mind for quite some time.

All things considered, you had a rather unconventional introduction. He’s never seen a noblewoman take it upon herself to try and apprehend a criminal. What you did was foolish, without a doubt, not to mention reckless, but you had good intentions. You were willing to jeopardize your own safety for the sake of helping someone else.

It’s no surprise that you left a lasting impression, but he didn’t expect to ever see you again. He assumed it would just be an amusing anecdote that he might occasionally have the fortune of sharing with others.

But then he ran into you a second time.

Once again, you were behaving… abnormally. He’s worked as a knight for several years now, and as such, he’s had many encounters with nobles. More so than he can even count. Even though he’d like to say that he approaches others without any biases, he’s used to people in high society acting and presenting themselves a certain way. Over time, he naturally became accustomed to all the practiced smiles and empty gestures. He’s meant to serve and protect. That’s the whole reason he became a knight. However, the bitter truth is that society is stratified. Divided into echelons. Ranks.

And when it comes to saving people’s lives, he has always been told to prioritize those with the highest rank.

Those who come from a noble background are granted many special privileges. There are certain rules in place as to how he’s expected to interact with them. Even though he’s incredibly skilled at his job, there are times when… it all gets incredibly tedious. It’s bothersome. Aggravating.

In Carmine’s eyes, all people are meant to be equal. As long as everyone adheres to the law, no single person’s life should be valued above someone else’s. It’s an idealistic mindset, he knows that, but he can’t help but feel this way.

He became a knight for the sake of the greater good. It’s disgusting that some sleazy, corrupt nobles are given a free pass in life.

Perhaps that’s why he can’t seem to stop thinking about you. Your self-sacrificial nature, which stood out to him the very first day he laid eyes upon you, coupled with the fact that you’re the furthest thing possible from the average noble. You don’t reek of greed and superficiality. You seem genuine. The moments he spent with you, albeit brief, was the most fun he’s had in a long, long time.

He could hardly wait to discover what your third meeting had in store. He isn’t sure how to explain it, but he just knew he would run into you again at some point or another. It was just a gut feeling he had.

And it turns out that he was right, because here you are, standing before him once again.

Except this time, his excitement is quick to die down.

There’s a man with you.

“Forgive my rudeness,” Carmine says, and for some reason, there’s a twinge of discomfort in his chest. “Are the two of you perhaps… on a date?”

The man you’re with is holding an umbrella above both of your heads, and he even has his arm wrapped around your waist. Carmine isn’t even sure why he even bothered to ask that question. The answer is already obvious.

“Yes,” Rowan blurts, responding in a heartbeat. “[Name] and I are on a date. What’s it to you, sir knight?”

Carmine’s eyes narrow even further. It’s not like he wasn’t expecting that, but still.

He feels a bit irritated.

“I see,” Carmine nods. He then bows his head slightly. “In that case, pardon me for intruding upon your time together, my lord. I was just pleasantly surprised to have run into a familiar face.”

“There’s nothing to apologize for,” you reassure.

“No, it really wasn’t my business. Forgive me again for approaching you so rudely.”

He’s still bowing his head. God. There are so many goddamn rules in this world. Not that there weren’t rules in your old world too, but this is seriously overkill. He’s acting like he just committed some kind of crime by daring to walk up to you and ask a normal question.

“Seriously, don’t worry about it.”

You pause for a moment, noting how the rain has drenched his crimson hair, which now clings to his forehead in matted clumps. His uniform looks soaking wet too. Poor guy. He’s stuck working outside in this shitty weather.

“Did you want to use our umbrella?” you offer, grabbing onto the handle and angling it towards him slightly. “We’ve been looking for a restaurant anyway. We’ll head inside in just a moment. You can take it, if you’d like.”

“But this is our umbrella,” Rowan protests, looking downright offended that you would even suggest such a thing.

You pinch his cheek. “What are you being all whiny for? It’s not like we’re going to need it anymore. I want to try that restaurant out. It’s literally right there. Poor Carmine is stuck out in the rain, with nowhere to go.”

“Then why doesn’t he take shelter someplace, like us?”

“Because he’s working. He can’t just slack on the job. Obviously.”

Against all odds, Rowan resists the urge to openly grimace. It sounds childish, but for some reason, he doesn’t like the idea of handing his umbrella—the umbrella he picked out with you—over to a complete stranger. It’s not like he’s the type of person who has to worry about wasting money, but still.

Ever since their eyes met, this Carmine guy has really been rubbing him the wrong way.

“We bought this umbrella together,” Rowan insists, clinging to it like it's his baby or something. He even shakes his head in vehement refusal. “I’m not handing it over. You can’t make me.”

You stare at him, visibly unimpressed.

I’m dating a child.

“I appreciate the gesture, Lady [Name], but I’m alright,” Carmine smiles. “Us members of the knighthood rigorously train our bodies in order to apprehend criminals and keep everyone safe. A bit of rain won’t ever faze me. It’s hardly worth making a fuss over.”

He turns towards Rowan as he utters the last few words, and his smile shifts, just for a moment.

Rowan swears this bastard is taunting him.

“I suppose I should get back to my patrols now. Apologies once again if I’ve disrupted your date. It was nice seeing you again, my lady. Until next time.”

Carmine bows his head once more. He wonders why he never stopped to consider that a noblewoman such as yourself might already be spoken for. What a foolish blunder on his part. He feels ridiculous.

However, there’s another emotion that overshadows his embarrassment, and presently, he refuses to acknowledge it.

Disappointment.

No. He can’t possibly be disappointed. What was he even expecting in the first place? You’re a noble. He may be a knight, but ultimately, that makes him a commoner. He would never have had a place in your life. Not to mention that he barely even knows you.

Carmine reasons that you’re an amusing person, and he enjoys being around you. It’s the most logical explanation. There’s no sense reading into it too much.

The fact that you’re dating Rowan… it really doesn’t bother him.

Not even a little.

Carmine leaves, feeling more frustrated and confused than he’d like to admit to. Rowan lets out a heavy sigh as he watches the knight’s tall, broad figure disappear. He can finally stop white-knuckling the umbrella now.

“[Name], who was that man?” Rowan pouts. “Are you already being unfaithful to me?”

“Yep, you caught me. He’s my other boyfriend. We once shared a very intimate night together.”

“What?!”

You thought it was obvious that you were being sarcastic, but evidently, Rowan is a lot more gullible than you first thought. Which is kind of ironic, since he comes across as such a schemer. You seriously don’t know what the hell to make of him half the time.

“I’m obviously joking,” you sigh. “Like he said, we just ran into each other a few times before. Purely by chance. We don’t even know each other that well.”

“I got the feeling that he was looking down on me,” Rowan mutters.

“Well, of course he was looking down on you. You’re shorter than him.”

“That’s not what I meant,” he scowls, but he realizes you’re joking again quickly enough—based on the shit-eating grin on your face.

“Silly Rowan. Getting so upset over nothing. I guess you’re the jealous type, huh? It’s kind of cute,” you muse.

Rowan’s cheeks redden. As a man, he would much prefer to be described as handsome, but coming from you, it doesn’t really bother him that much. Oddly enough.

“...ah.”

You peer out from under the umbrella. You couldn’t tell at first, but it looks like it’s finally stopped raining. It would’ve been nice if the weather would have cleared up back when you were still at the gardens, but oh well. It’s never too late for a bit of sunshine.

“Rowan, look. There’s a rainbow!”

You step out hesitantly at first, making sure there isn’t a lingering drizzle or anything. Sure enough, no droplets splatter onto your skin, and it’s kind of amazing how quickly the clouds clear. It’s as if someone was deliberately saving this special sight, just for the two of you.

“See? I told you the weather can change in the blink of an eye. Sometimes, for the better,” you grin.

Rowan watches as you happily skip along, even going as far as to jump into a little puddle and giggle at the splash it makes. The sun is finally visible again, and it comes back so forcefully that it nearly blinds him with how bright it is. He squints through the rays, and once his vision settles, he stops to admire the picturesque sight.

Still.

Out of everything he can see right now, you’re easily the most beautiful of all.

A villainess is bound to have enemies. This is precisely why you’re hellbent on clearing your name and restoring your reputation. So that people won’t have a reason to resent you anymore. So that you’ll end up with more allies than foes.

But it’s going to take a while until everyone realizes you’ve changed for the better, and what you don’t realize is some people already resent the villainess so much, that all they really need is a little push. One final nail in the coffin.

Avoiding the villainess’ bad endings is one thing. After all, you know what to expect from the game. You have a general idea of what sequence of events will lead you to your demise.

But there are other dangers, too. Until now, they’ve lurked in the background, quiet and unseen. However, since waking up in this new body of yours, some people have decided they’ve simply had enough. They’re sick and tired of the villainess running rampant and doing whatever the hell she wants.

And so, they decide to take matters into their own hands.

“I-I was told that if I came here, I might be able to request the service of a mercenary. Am I right in assuming… that you’re him?”

The hooded figure trembles slightly, shrinking away from the man seated before them, who’s in the middle of downing a pint of beer.

After a few moments, the man polishes off his glass, down to the very last drop, and slams it down onto the table.

Then, he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and chuckles.

“It depends. Who’s asking?”

“I am just… a messenger,” the hooded figure continues trembling. “But I was provided with a hefty sum to procure your services.”

“Your client doesn’t even have the balls to meet me in person?”

“He feels more comfortable going about this anonymously. But he’s willing to pay, whatever the cost. As a starting fee… would this suffice?”

The messenger nervously slides a pouch filled with gold coins across the table, and the man frowns before opening the pouch up and inspecting its contents.

“In exchange for what, specifically?” he asks. “You haven’t even told me what your client wants me to do yet. The bigger the job, the higher my price. That goes without saying.”

The silence that follows is heavy, to say the least, and the messenger keeps nervously shifting in place, visibly distressed by what they’re about to demand.

Finally, they muster up enough courage to speak.

“My client… wants you to eliminate someone for him. She hails from a noble household, and is an only child. I’ve provided all the details in a note, inside the pouch I just passed you.”

The man digs into the pouch again, and this time, unfolds a small, crumpled piece of paper. He skims over the information, and while it’s scarce, it tells him pretty much everything he needs to know. To think that his target is a noble, of all people. What a bold request. He’ll be sure to get his money’s worth.

“[Name], huh…?”

Ajax leans back in his seat, adjusts his eyepatch, then chuckles. The name sounds vaguely familiar, for some reason. How amusing. Either way, he’s never been one to say no to a challenge.

You’d better prepare for an early grave.

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