#... and two eclipse plushes...
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here comes...✨the boy✨
✨hello boy welcome✨
✨there he is✨
✨he is here✨
#gosh he if finally here 😭#he was lost in transit for two months but he is finally home 😭😭 and he if perfect#the colors are so vibrant compared to the first plushies of the dca they made#and he is so soft#i love it i love it i love it#totally worth the wait#dca merch#youtooz merch#ruin eclipse plush#ruin eclipse#canon eclipse#fnaf eclipse#fnaf sb#fnaf merch#dca#dca eclipse#fnaf ruin
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SO TODAY'S SAMS EP??
BLOODMOON FRIGGIN STAY AWAY FROM THE BOYS I SWEAR TO GOD YA'LL MAKE LIKING YOU TWO SO HARD *SOBS*
#sams#sun and moon show#ray's ramblings#I SWEAR TO GOD LIKE BLOODMOON WHY???#also- where tf did the Tails doll come from? RODRICK U CREEPY AHH FOX PLUSH I NEED ANSWERS#Bloodmoon just went “we can control something for once” and didn't consider all the MAJOR RED FLAGS#LIKE YEA AT FIRST THEY DID BUT THEN THEY SAW AN OPPORTUNITY TO CAUSE MORE HARM AND TORTURE AND WENT AFTER IT#just as I was hoping no harm will befall Eclipse :c they don't deserve it#they literally JUST got their identity back#it wasn't their fault qwq they have no hand in this#ruin does and he's dead *sobs* long live the king jdnfnfb#and leave Solar out of this- like okay sure he may have betrayed BM BUT THAT'S CUZ THEY'RE DANGEROUS??#LIKE HIS MAIN PRIORITY WAS GETTING SUN AND MOON BACK#if something happens to the two of them I'm going on a solar and eclipse centered fics rampage#that's a promise
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Together and separate all at once, like their plush :D
#sun and moon fnaf#sun fnaf#moon fnaf#art#They wanted to look like the plush#Not an eclipse thing/it's just the two of them having fun during a short break :D#Quoting Jerma: this is for the bugs !! ( ˆ♡ˆ )
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Been seeing more and more plush keychains pop up n I wanna make some of sun n moon so bad ;;
#chat how would we feel abt sun n moon plush keychains#i dont even use keychains i have like two dozen of them but then i just keep them on my desk n stuff lol#oh...eclipse keychain......#fnaf security breach#security breach#sunny with clouds#not ut related
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mission accomplished
✎ Leon's a certified manwhore, really. You know that, but you can be worse than him. So what's the most that can happen in a hotel room with a reputedly flirtatious womanizer like Leon after an onerous mission? ID LEON SUPREMACY.
cw: getting it in a hotel room, cunnilingus, d in p aka mating press yay, creampie, size kink size kink size kink, protection? forgotten. fem! reader, he's just silly therefore beware of the corny lines, biting, MDNI
“You wanna get dinner when this is all over?”
You couldn’t say if it was worth nipping in the bud at that juncture, but this whole little odyssey with Leon definitely starts with that very query. It wasn’t a figure of speech; you really got him down on his knees in a random hotel room.
The lavender air of the hotel room, the gunpowdery whiff, and the notes of Old Spice emanating from the tender curve of Leon’s neck still wreak havoc on your brain after your shared kisses. Your legs buckle, and you’re in sackcloth and ashes, all thanks to wearing those mean machines, Jimmy Choos. But you feel sexy when you’re close to his reach, and you adore the vamp of your stilettos – the panorama of him sinking between your legs as he nudges you down on the edge of the mattress.
“Panties off, pretty.” His singsong cadence is cajoling, of course: you get the gist of it.
“Demanding, are we?” You rebut, pixilated and all mawkish. Lifting your hips only slightly, you hitch up your legs and pull down the panties that have been eclipsing your love-starved pussy for hours, and with a sloppy thud, the only piece separating Leon from your lovely cunt thumps down on the linoleum floor.
“Well, now you know why I said nay to dessert at dinner.”
Such corny, coquettish platitudes only serve to draw a slumberish smile to your lips. You have no idea how men with such beautiful faces can be saddled with a palate full of sophomoric slapstick. But a dick is a dick, and something tells you that Leon won’t let you go empty-handed on this one.
“Fuck...” You tilt your head, tracing a moony arc, and your chin is high, all the while splaying your hands over the fluffy, freshly laundered sheets.
How you got here and his current vanishing in the viscosity of the caudle in your pussy is a great mystery (well, not really, except that it’s a story about two horny agents renting a hotel room on the condition that they make it safely back from their mission in China), yet you love the tender lips pressed to the plush of your juicy slit.
Leon couldn’t leave you untasted, even though the foreplay feels superfluous. Skipping foreplay is a felony. It’s a rule not to skip it in bed: A manwhore has got to know how to eat his girl out. This is precisely why Leon Kennedy is infamous in the D.S.O. and the dominatrix scene – a beloved whore through and through.
He puts you in his mouth and eats you ‘til his teeth rot.
He loves it when you pull his hair (what a slut!); he sometimes even honors you with groans that sizzle your ears pleasantly. In this case, Leon’s priority is to gorge on you and perhaps make you cum more than once during the course of the night. But what about himself?
Of course, by the time he pulls down the indigo jeans he’s wearing, he will already be drenched in thick globs of precum.
He has a couple of minutes to spare to reflect on that issue, as all he does in those enchanted split seconds is to lap at the dripping amrita from your hole that exudes for his benefit.
“Too fucking sweet.”
His mouth, which has been yapping non-stop since he was assigned to the assignment alongside you, is apparently very well trained at the eating-pussy phenomenon, and he can’t help himself, clawing at your thighs and pulling you into his mouth; you’re half too thunderstruck to even buck your hips closer.
His tongue is sugar-coated. Even more delish as he drifts on and on, on your pussy, maybe even romantic, no matter how many times he says he’s a typical man for your average overnight, the lies are unfolded, and he gets all the more addicted.
“Leon. I’m–’m fuck.”
You’re so out of it that you’re babbling whatever pops into your head and out of your mouth. Insidious blues lock on you when you push your eyes open, expecting to see that he’s got it, that you’ve grasped the notion of his generosity. Of course he has to make it all about himself.
“I know, sweetheart. I know.” Comes between each of his licks, and you can’t muster the strength to even hold your own fucking head. His mouth heats up a beatific pulsation within you when he rises up to your face, and he puts his business on your lips. Kissing on a first date (if fucking can be excused as a reason for a first date?) is idiotically discouraged, but this man isn’t going to listen to such absurd dictates when he’s drunk on your essence.
And you’re more than up for it, so you sweetly reciprocate his kisses.
Thwip, thwip.
It grates on your ears, and you know what it is. Leon hastily tugs at his belt, wary of missing a second. Free yet? Ha – it’s not in the cards. His boxer briefs are still in the way for both of you.
“I wish men wore panties too,” you bitch up, purpling your pouting lip. Leon freezes mid-motion. Is he processing the absurdity of your words, or just too high on scotch and pussy to respond?
Or are you already the pot calling the kettle black?
The possibility of the former, however, is an assumption that is fraught with misconception when you pull down Leon’s boxers ‘cause he’s already in the same boat, but with a hole in it. If the room had been bathed in those bludgeoning fluorescents, instead of the hazy dim lights, you would have seen that his boxers were more profusely soaked than your panties. Viva the dim lights... or the fact that you don’t even care how wet he is.
“What?”
The anticipatory look he gives you can only signal that he would like you to soar onto the covers.
“Legs up, roll over.”
“Nope. Missionary is for sore losers.” You mumble it in a faux, patronizing tone, and you’re a fucking liar. As nice as it sounds to track his face in missionary and stab your fingernails on his back – despite the fact that you broke two of them in the line of duty – you want to ride him more than anything else.
“Losers, huh?” Leon grabs your wrists nicely and stamps you on the bed. “Sleep with losers and you’re as good as a loser, gorgeous. The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, yeah?”
Your head, sunken into the pillow, floats slowly on lint clouds. To watch him from below is like setting foot for the first time on an unearthed planet made of exploded blues. Fuck. You’re so high that the man has turned you into a slam poet.
He hoists each calf of yours and hooks your legs over the frame of his shoulders, leaving your pussy bared – and the December cold seeping in makes your inside flutter. If it weren’t for his pelvis pressing against you on the corner of the bed, you could very well trip on your ass and break a pretty serious bone.
“Keep your legs like this.” He prelects you, very laconic.
You feel so giddy when the raw head of his cock, which he rubs in the palm of his hand, slithers and mellows at your entrance as he works himself in with assiduous thrusts.
“Tight as hell,” you hear him croak, but you aren’t quite in the zone enough to pay it any mind. Your bleary eyelids are only half-lidded, if at all, not fully opaque – so that you can catch a glimpse of him over the nebula blurs on his visage under your batting eyelashes.
“Shit, baby, you can’t even take the fucking tip.” Leon’s whispers are eulogies of the lovely cunt he first got drunk on the tang of and now will drool on the tightness of. He gives a roll of his hips, but never the thing you so need – he harrows you so blatantly.
You barely lift your hips, humble and tentative, and meet his impish prodding – but his splayed hand on your ribcage forbids you from venturing and fucking yourself on his cock any deeper. The loss of levity on your face and the line of your eyebrows knitted in frustration is absolutely delicious to behold for an asshole cheeky fuck like Leon.
“Stop trying to fuck yourself and use your words, would you?”
For no apparent reason, his voice haunts you, as if you’ve heard the last announcement of your fleeing plane.
“Come on, girl. Get it out.” Leon whispers again and layers all the clouds of discord in your head one by one. Those humiliating clouds of thoughts in your head poof, pan, flake, and evaporate from your slightly ajar lips in a single cry.
“Leon. Please. Gulp. Please. Fuck me.”
Ouch. These words will always conjure up visions of shooting yourself with your own gun when the alcohol drains out of your veins in the morning, especially after these foul entreaties.
This chain of events, in which Leon has pulled a rabbit out of the hat on a night that was already in his favor, is capped off with your fuck-me-please beggary. (Propaganda even.)
“You got it, beautiful.” He nuzzles you, metaphorically speaking, with a cloying coo, albeit with an ardent clench on your hips. The purple shadows that will mark your skin for a few weeks are right in his wheelhouse.
The normal you go like, “Oh no, I can’t be such a slut overnight, and for a man? Humor me, bitch,” you’d be taking the mickey out of yourself.
Leon, however, is just divine. He’s inside you, and he’s hard – a diamond in the rough.
The kisses you share are sporadic, wet, and perhaps absurdly romantic: for such a “trivial” night. In Leon’s mind, the blinking light bulb recalls a blaring alarm; the realization that something so good is manipulating a distorted reality comes to him in the seconds when he’s already hammering away at your cervix, but without violence.
“Fuck.” The kiss breaks abruptly, like a tape rewinding inside both your collective heads.
“The condoms,” hits Leon square in the head, but what’s the big deal? Your legs are up, in the air, bless the yoga gods, just like the image of that chick in her heels getting knocked up by Patrick Bateman in that movie, but the guy twitching inside you is now preaching condoms to you.
“Leon.”
You’re on the last rung, and his lips are saliva-laden mess, melded with the cherry tinge of your lipstick. You really should’ve dabbed it off or something.
He blinks at you, and he owes it to you to correct his mistake immediately, filling you to the hilt with a lingering and deep-seated thrust.
“Leon!”
Your cry strikes him rapt, and he savors that familiar, sinful tightness around himself. So needy; he relishes the feel of you squeezing his cock.
You sharply suck in the breath upon the touch of his teeth as he bites a bruise under the delicate flesh under your throat, where it smells deliciously dulcet. He’s drunk on you, drunk on the saccharine moans and whimpers that spring from your lips, and to be honest, he’s been dreaming about this the whole time.
Men grow wiser as they get older, but as Leon grew older, he indulged in one-night stands where he devoted himself to pretty, pretty women making love to him.
It’s bitter that you’re one of those women, but you still want him to use you, use you so badly and carelessly.
You don’t know how much longer your fuck-drunk head can keep up, but he knows very well that you’re getting close. He pulls back slightly, releasing your ankles and reaching between your legs with his gun-wielding hand to work his thumb on your clit. You’re so desperate for his affection, and tonight, he feels too lavish not to deprive you of that dazzling bliss.
Your moans echo through the hotel room, high-pitched and frantic, the overstimulation nearly unbearable.
“It’s okay, let yourself go, cum for me, pretty.” Leon’s gruff sighs ebb and flow as he brings you back from the abyss; his pace slows and then he so randomly brushes a languid thrust into that spongy spot inside you.
And you listen dully, your eyes almost rolling out of your sockets, but you give him what he wants.
Everything is hectic, wet, extravagant, and that’s exactly why he keeps going. Forehead to forehead, you both wind up panting, but Leon still gets an A+ for looking good when he fucks you. Your glazed eyes are riveted on his night-blue shades of pupils in the darkness. You both know what that lock of eyes signifies.
Before you can say a word, Leon pulls his cock out of your slickly coated pussy with the most obscenely slick sound.
Something inside you frantically pleads that he should still be inside you – what a loss, but Leon takes your hand in his. He’s in need, after all.
“You’ve got this. Go on. Make me cum.”
Give his cock three or five sloppy strokes, and he cums on your stomach. Easy.
You slide your legs down; there’s no way you can hold them up any longer, and he groans when you let go of his softening cock by memory, as if you are discarding an object that is no longer of use to you. Your legs dangle over the edges of the bed, and Leon closes his eyes, if only fleetingly, to soak in the moment, his cheek buried in the crook of your neck.
Too long or too short; you don’t know how much time stretches by; you’re so wired that your brain feels like it’s melted and fucked as though the chunks of it are oozing out of your ears. It’s almost cozy. Disgustingly.
But all good things come to an end.
So at the end of the night, still lying in the topsy-turvy bed like it’s your own vaulted coffin, you watch Leon slip his jeans on with your restless eyes rolling. He’s sitting next to you.
When he’s done, he turns and flashes you the cheesiest wink in the world before rolling out of bed. It’s always shocking you how corny he can be. Just in the past few minutes, he was fucking you into this very mattress. Spread your legs kinda shit, fucked your brains out kinda shit.
“Man, this room stinks of sex.” Leon makes a wry face and cups the tip of his nose.
“Get your ass up and take a bath, or I’ll never set foot in here again.”
You can hardly raise your hand and shoo him away. Mentally you can no longer shield yourself from these crank antics. He knows it all and snorts a long sigh.
“You’re a total goner, beautiful. Well, you’re a big girl. You’ll be fine.”
Before he closes the suite door, he takes a quick glance at the digits of your phone number that he had you write on the palm of his hand; he has to verify that it’s still written there.
“I’ll give you a weekend wake-up call,” Leon promises and closes the door behind him.
Whump.
Mercifully, the next date is a shoo-in, but it only means that you will have to slog through another evening of seconds, minutes, and hours of listening to his blathering and off-color in-jokes.
Is it really worth it?
The answer to that, given that you still can’t bring yourself to get up and wash the drying cum off your stomach, can only be one simple answer. You might as well call Hunnigan and let her know you can’t make it into work for tomorrow.
#leon kennedy x reader#leon kennedy x fem reader#leon s kennedy#leon kennedy smut#leon kennedy x you#leon kennedy#resident evil infinite darkness
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👑 .𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐑𝐎𝐖𝐍
ft. crown prince!itoshi sae x commoner!femreader x second prince!itoshi rin (only bc you are rin's fiancée)
🗡 synopsis. you were chosen to be the second prince’s fiancée for rin’s convenience, but fate had different plans when you fell for his older brother, the crown prince, instead. as you start hearing strange voices during your engagement ball, sae falls victim to alexis’ curse, which only your love can break. what happens when news spread of the crown prince's revival and rin finds out?
⛓ content warning. 13.3k (yikes)ノ royal au ノ classism ノ cheating themes & pdaノ⚠ rin is rude, offensive, & insulting ノ your parents & sis for plot are assholes ノ semi-arranged marriage (?) ノ reader is illiterate ノ narration heavy ノ reader gets called whore once ノ implied death & gorish description ノ implied stranglingノ animal murder ノ minimal implication of shorter readerノthe relationship with sae is highkey rushed now that i reread it.
notes. this took me two weeks+ to finish ahhh. i thank my past self for being obsessed with manhwas so muchh, and ty to rhymezone for saving my ass w/ the ancient poem. first time using capital letters when writing fanfics, only bc it's really long though, eeee.
In the Twilight of the Eclipsing Red Moon,
When Stars Align and Shadows Loom,
The Great’s Fate is Sealed in the Veil of Night,
By the Hand of One from Mystic Light.
But From the Dust of Forgotten Lands,
Shall Rise a Heart with Common Hands,
With Lips of Rose and Spirit Warm,
To Bring the Order, End the Storm.
A Crown of Old Shall Find its Grace,
In the Embrace of a Simple Face.
But Do not be Fooled, One Shall Not Bloom,
For This, Will Lead to One’s Gentle Doom.
“I beg your pardon, Your Majesty,” your father stammered, “M-My eldest daughter has fallen gravely ill, and I fear she physically cannot journey to the Grand Empire of Aquaria tomorrow!”
The king’s eyes flared open in shock as the words reached his ears. His grip on the plush armrest of his throne tightened, the baroque carvings digging into his palm.
“What?!” He yelled, dismissing the fan bearer with a sharp glare before rising from his throne and taking two steps forward. His shadow covered large over your father’s trembling figure.
“She chooses now, of all times, to be stricken with sickness? At a crucial time for our kingdom? Such insolence!” He descended three more steps and glared down at him. “Did you forget that His Imperial Highness has specifically requested a lady from your clan?”
“I—”
The king struck his scepter harshly against the floor, silencing the man. “All the other houses of your garbage clan bore only sons,” he spat, “She will go, and that is final!”
“Actually…” the commoner’s lips pointed upwards in a well-rehearsed smile as he placed a hand over his heart in false politeness. “I have another daughter. She’s eager— eager to fulfill her duty. She is twenty, two years younger than the prince, but still of age.”
King Orion arched an eyebrow and his mouth twisted into a sneer. “Very well,” he replied, waving his hand in disinterest as he returned to his throne. “Summon her.”
In truth, the king’s concern wasn’t with Aria, your older sister. He cared little for which daughter was offered up to Aquaria’s second prince. It was a political necessity, nothing more— a favour to His Imperial Highness, Prince Rin. Or more like a fulfillment of Rin’s rather odd request that came with a threat. As long as someone from your clan was presented, it mattered not to him whether it was your sister or some other sacrificial lamb for the slaughter.
At the call of your name, the guards creaked open the heavy doors, and you entered the throne chamber slowly. When you reached the foot of the throne, you lowered your body in a curtsey bow, your gaze fixed on the scarlet carpet that stretched beneath you.
“It is my greatest honour to stand before you, Your Majesty,” you said, though your indifferent tone made it clear to anyone listening that you longed for nothing more than to be anywhere but here.
But you knew the truth behind this charade. Aria wasn’t ill. She was the jewel of your parents’ eye, their pride and joy, shielded from the Empire’s gaze like a pirate’s precious treasure. You, on the other hand, were the forgotten one– the daughter they kept hidden, a mere shadow in their halls, easily discarded when it was convenient. To your father, you were a little more than a weight around his neck, an extra mouth to feed, a burden he was eager to rid himself of.
The king’s eyes scanned you up and down, his expression visibly souring as he took in the sight of your tattered ankle-high, brown dress and scuffed boots. Disgusting.
“Ugh,” he muttered under his breath, leaning on one elbow as he sneered at you. “She’ll do, I suppose. Pretty enough for their tastes.” He turned to his chancellor with a condescending wave. “Have the maids find something more… suitable for this one.”
The chancellor bowed deeply, “At once, Your Majesty.”
“Alright, you’ve packed everything, haven’t you?” your mother asked as she rubbed Aria’s shoulder comfortingly.
Your gaze drifted to the battered briefcase lying at your feet. You had stumbled upon it by accident, shoved into a forgotten corner of the dirty attic, coated in layers of dust and practically falling apart at the seams. With a sigh, you bent down to pick it up, nodding as it threatened to collapse.
“Yes,” you murmured, a bitter smile tugging at your lips, “There was hardly anything to pack, anyway.”
Your father scoffed, rolling his eyes as he wrapped an arm around Aria, who had begun to shed what you knew to be crocodile tears. The act was almost laughable. She suddenly broke free from their grasp and rushed over to you, flinging her arms around your waist with a dramatic sob.
“Y/N!” she cried, “Please take care of yourself– hic– I’m going to miss you so much!”
You hesitated for a moment before stiffly returning her hug. She was a liar, through and through, and you both knew it.
Before the act could continue, the distant sound of hooves clattering against cobblestone paths captured your attention. Gently, you pried yourself away from her clutches, turning toward the approaching sound.
Your breath hitched. The Empire’s Royal Carriage was quickly nearing, and it was no exaggeration to say that its massive size dwarfed everything coming its way. It was magnificent, its gleaming white exterior and elegant navy blue designs that were above the huge clattering wheels. Silken curtains furnished the windows, embroidered with golden threads that caught the eyes of your greedy family. But what truly stole your attention was the shining silver crown perched atop the carriage, with Aquaria’s Royal Crest.
“Listen–” your father’s obnoxious voice cut through your admiration. He leaned close, his voice coming out in a hiss, “You better behave yourself, got it? If you mess this up, it’s not just you– it’s all of us. Understand?”
You shrugged off his threat with a nonchalant nod, “I’ll do my best.”
The sounds of the porcelain horses neighing were suddenly right behind you. They looked so soft, so immaculate, that you had to resist the urge to reach out and glide your fingers through their carefully groomed manes. But you knew better. This was no place for such frivolities.
The royal coachman descended from his designated seat and approached you. His right hand gracefully flew to his heart and he bowed slightly, his eyes closing for a brief moment.
“Greetings, my lady,” he said, straightening himself elegantly as his brown eyes met yours. He took your worn briefcase from your hand and placed it gently in the carriage’s wide storage compartment in the back. Then, he slid aside the long curtains and extended his hand toward you.
This was it. The moment you stepped into that carriage, you would leave this wretched life behind forever. No more grime, no more being hidden away like some shameful secret. You would be free– or at least you clung to the hope of freedom.
Taking the coachman’s hand, you felt the fine material of your simple sage gown– one begrudgingly gifted by King Orion– brush against the spotless steps of the carriage. You could hardly believe you, of all people, had the privilege of entering something so grand, so expensive.
For one last time, you glanced back at your so-called family. They stood there, masks with feigned expressions of sorrow worn over their faces. But you weren’t fooled, and you certainly weren’t going to indulge them. Instead, a slow grin crept across your face and you mouthed a few words that served as a final act of defiance.
“Shitty lives for shitty people, I guess.”
“.... lady,”
“My….”
“My lady!”
“Hm…” You muttered drowsily, your eyelids slowly fluttering open to the sight of the coachman and several other servants peering in at you with concerned expressions. Startled, you shot upright, your hands grasping the seat beneath you. “Y-Yes!”
So far, you were off to a great start.
But now, as you finally stepped out of the carriage and beheld the regal palace before you, every bit of exhaustion from the long ride seemed to dissolve. The sight of it stole your breath and you tried to conjure up a word to describe it, but words escaped you. Beautiful, perhaps, though even that felt insufficient. Magnificent, maybe.
There were towering stone sculptures and a large marble fountain in the center, its water elegantly cascading down like it was raining crystals. The front lawn was meticulously trimmed and maintained till perfection. The walls of the palace shined, built from pale limestone that you recognized from years of working with fire and sedimentary rocks. And at the peak of the palace dome, a lone flag fluttered in the breeze, proudly displaying the Royal Crest of Aquaria.
Your home now.
Yet, no lines of maids awaited your arrival at the main entrance, as you’d always imagined from reading those fairytale books you’d find tucked away in your attic. And there was certainly no sign of your supposed fiancé— His Imperial Highness, Itoshi Rin, the Second Prince of the Empire.
But then again, it made sense. You were just a humble village girl, after all— hardly worth the attention of someone as important as him.
The sudden neighing of a horse behind you jolted you from your thoughts, and you spun around. There, your gaze locked with the prettiest set of eyes you had ever seen— legendary teal irises framed by lashes so thick they casted a shadow on his cheekbones.
If the palace was magnificent, then he was simply breathtaking.
Your heart stuttered in your chest as you instinctively took a step forward toward him, prepared to pinch fistfuls of your dress and bow down to him.
He must be your fiancé, you thought. How could he not be? Those eyes were a symbol of royalty. His dark, reddish hair swayed with every blow of the wind, and the way an exquisite sapphire brooch shone against his royal attire screamed authority.
What did they call this phenomenon? Love at first sight? But then—
“Welcome back, Your Imperial Highness the Crown Prince!” a unified set of voices suddenly echoed from behind you in greeting, and you whipped your head back to see every servant and the carriage driver on their knees, their heads bowed low, and their hands clutched to their chests.
Crown Prince? Your breath caught in your throat. The Crown Prince? In other words, the future Emperor of Aquaria?
His gaze left yours to briefly sweep over the kneeling palace workers, before he waved his hand dismissively. “Rise.” he ordered. His deep voice made you feel a sudden tightening in your throat, and you had the urge to obey though you weren’t even on your knees.
When his eyes returned to you, you flinched, every nerve of your body feeling on edge. You drew in a sufficient amount of fresh air and held onto bunches of your gown, bowing respectfully.
“G-Greetings, Your Imperial Highness,” you stuttered.
Sae guided his horse to a halt and swung his leg over the saddle, dismounting and landing on the grass smoothly. He gave the mare a gentle pat, and you suddenly felt conscious as he approached you in long strides.
He stopped just in front of you, eyes seemingly studying you. “You are?”
You swallowed nervously, daring to meet his aquamarine gaze. “Y/N,” you said softly, “The Second Imperial Prince’s fiancée.”
His eyes narrowed and he closed them fleetingly before opening them again. “I see… That foolish younger brother of mine.”
You remained silent, unsure of how to respond. Your sparkling eyes flickered to his mare standing patiently beside him for a moment too long. Her coat was as white as fresh snow, and it almost hurt your eyes the way the sunlight reflected off her.
He noticed. “Oh, her?” He nodded toward the horse, gesturing for you to come closer. “Go on. You can touch her if you wish.”
Your eyes widened in disbelief, trodding towards him in excitement. “May I, really?”
“Sure, whatever,” he muttered nonchalantly, though his gaze softened slightly. He was more focused on observing the horse’s reaction to you.
With careful hands, you reached out and gently raked your fingers through her silky mane. A delighted giggle escaped your lips as the fauna neighed softly and nudged your hand for more of your kind attention.
“She’s beautiful,” you whispered, and he hummed in interest. You paused for a moment, glancing at the prince curiously. “What’s her name?”
“Celestia,” he replied, pulling on the horse’s rein before folding his arms over his chest. He watched you interact with the animal. “She rarely warms up to anyone, but it seems as if she likes you.”
Your eyes lit up with surprise and you smiled, your fingers still tangled in the horse’s mane. “Celestia is a beautiful name… It suits her. She’s as white as the moon.”
For a brief moment, the prince turned his head to the side, as if he was hiding something from your view. He wouldn’t admit it, but he’d trust anyone his beautiful horse liked. His fingers slipped through his tousled red hair, and though his voice slightly carried a tone of arrogance, it was also laced with something else. “Tch. Thanks. I named her myself.”
You laughed lightly, “How old is she?”
“Turning nine soon,” he answered, giving her a pat. “She’s the mother of a black stallion.”
Your eyes twinkled in awe, fists clenched in front of you as you beamed up at him. “She’s a mother?!”
Sae raised a brow, leaning back slightly. “You’re standing too close.”
“A-Ah, my apologies, Your Highness,” You stuttered, retreating several steps just in case. “I… I seem to have forgotten my place,”
“No, it’s quite alr—” He started, lifting a hand as if to stop you from backing away, but was interrupted by one of the pesky servants from Rin’s wing of the palace. “...”
“I-I apologize for interrupting y-your conversation, Your Imperial Highness,” She panted, bowing low, “But The Second Prince has requested his fiancée’s presence for a private audience.”
Sae clicked his tongue in annoyance, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer before he mounted Celestia. “I guess it cannot be helped. Fine, whatever.”
Your heart sank slightly, a wave of disappointment looming over your ethereal features. Your pretty eyes downcast and fists clenched lightly by your sides. You had hoped to stay just a little longer, either with the man you had mistaken for your fiancé or perhaps with the beautiful horse. You weren’t sure which had captured your fascination more.
You thought that, perhaps, if Rin was not unlike his brother, then marrying him probably wouldn’t be so bad.
Still, with a deep breath, you held onto your skirt and followed the maid. But just before you left, you glanced back over your shoulder at the First Prince with a smile so pretty it could coax the sun out of the sky and make even the stars envious.
“See you around, Your Highness!” You called out, waving your arm before turning around to trail after the servant woman.
Sae stood frozen for a heartbeat, his thoughts clouded by the ghost of that smile. Something stirred in his chest, something unfamiliar and probably unwelcome. He huffed quietly, silking his hand through his hair before muttering under his breath.
“Yeah… see you.”
Your heart raced as you stood before the polished double doors of Rin’s chamber. You swallowed hard in an attempt to calm your nerves. Your breaths came in shallow, like there was some sort of invisible weight pressed against your chest.
Your hand hesitantly hovered mere inches from the door. You hadn’t even met the man and yet the tension was thicker than when you had personally greeted the crown prince.
The maid beside you fidgeted, clearly just as anxious. She stammered softly, “My lady… j-just knock and wait for his word. I-I’ll take my leave now.”
You nodded, watching her scurry away so quickly as if she couldn’t wait to be out of the prince’s domain. You blinked in thought— if the servants in this wing were this jumpy around him, it didn’t bode well.
You took a deep breath, trying to steady your trembling fingers. After whispering a few reassurances to yourself, you finally raised your knuckles and knocked gently on the door.
No answer.
A few more seconds passed before you tried again, but this time you heard a deep, irritated voice call out.
“Enter.”
You gulped and planted your hands on the heavy door, pushing it open. The moment you stepped in, you held in your breath. The interior was extravagant beyond words– a room fit for royalty, as expected.
Your enlarged eyes scanned the deluxe chamber, mouth unintentionally falling agape at all it held. But the awe immediately vanished as your gaze landed on Rin. The prince stood by a grand archtop window with his back to you, gazing down at the Aquaria Royal Gardens— which, to compare in size, were bigger than your whole village fit together.
He turned at the sound of your entrance, his sharp eyes immediately narrowing with a look of disdain. His voice was flat, yet annoyed. “Quit ogling and close the door behind you.”
It was an order, and you felt your body immediately move on its own. Your hands fumbled as you quickly shut the door, unable to keep the heat of embarrassment from rising to your cheeks. You lowered your gaze, focusing on the rosa aurora marble floor beneath you.
Rin’s eyes raked over you, his foot tapping on the floor impatiently. His eyes were just as icy as his brother’s, but where Sae had a certain aloofness, Rin’s coldness felt like a blade to the throat. He eventually crossed his arms over his chest and looked at you condescendingly, “No proper greeting?”
Your mind scrambled. “Ah..!” Your fingers gripped onto the fabric of your dress tightly as you bowed stiffly. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Y-Your Imperial Highness,”
He let out an exasperated sigh, rubbing a hand over his face as if the very sight of you was an inconvenience. “Horrible posture,” he muttered. “Your etiquette needs a lot of work.”
Your heart sank further, and humiliation washed over your whole face. You straightened up and pursed your lips together tightly, the words sticking to your throat like superglue, afraid that whatever you’d say next would only make matters worse.
He remained quiet and turned around, walking to the large seating area in the corner of his chamber. You hesitantly followed after him, taking a seat right beside him on the burgundy plush.
He eyed you sideways, clearly displeased. “...Really?”
“Um…” You shuffled your feet awkwardly, the fabric swishing against your ankles. “Sitting in front of you would be presumptuous of me… How dare I make eye contact with someone as great as you, given my position?”
He rolled his eyes at your words. “How audacious.”
“Oh— Your Highness, you’ve got an eyelash on your cheek,” You started, instinctively reaching out to brush it away. But before your fingers could make contact, his hand snapped out, roughly swatting yours away.
“Don’t fucking touch me, commoner scum.” He hissed.
You immediately withdrew, rubbing your stinging hand gently. You bit your bottom lip to keep quiet. “I apol—”
“Go sit in front.”
You obeyed without question, your body moving on autopilot as you rose from the sofa, taking a seat across from him. If you hadn’t the guts to defy your parents, what made you think you could defy a prince? You didn’t even have the strength to be angry; you were too preoccupied with trying to hold yourself together under his oppressive gaze.
What followed was more of an interrogation than a conversation.
“Can you read?”
“No.”
“Write?”
“No.”
“Table manners?”
“I eat with my hands.”
“... Can you do anything at all?”
Your fingers twisted nervously in your lap as you swallowed thickly, embarrassment creeping up your neck. “I can make really good vegetable soup...”
“...”
The silence stretched out, and you could feel your self-worth slowly becoming nonexistent. After a moment, he stood with a sigh, making you flinch.
You averted your gaze to the window and you tapped your foot anxiously against the floor. You realized you were swallowing thick lumps of nothing more than usual. All his questions were glazed with layers of dripping haughtiness and it hurt when you realized how useless and worthless you were as you answered each one.
“No, this is good,” He assured, almost to himself, as he began unbuttoning his white shirt. You looked up at him, confused.
“Good?” You repeated softly.
Rin approached you with his shirt halfway undone. He stopped just in front of you, leaning down with an expression so intimidating it sent shivers sprinting down your spine. “Do you know why I chose someone as lowly and pathetic as you, peasant?”
You rubbed your clammy palms together and paused. “I think I might have an idea,” You whispered.
“Oh? Continue.”
“You want to win the public’s favour, perhaps?” you guessed carefully, “because it shows a connection to those of lower status…”
He raised a brow, “Hm. You’re smarter than you look.” He admitted.
But his next words made your blood run cold. His hands found your shoulders, his fingers gripping onto them with not much force as he leaned closer. Your gaze ashamedly darted down to his peeking sculpted chest before flicking up to his eyes.
“After I’ve become emperor instead of that shitty brother,” he whispered, his breath hot against your ear, “you will bear my child. Then, I’ll find a way to get rid of you.”
Your whole body was trembling as soon as his hands left your shoulders. You could feel your teeth clattering slightly as you stared at the floor, unable to speak. You tilted your head up and watched as he slowly slid off an oval-cut sapphire ring, rimmed with shimmering stones of diamond, from his finger.
“Give me your hand,” He ordered impatiently.
You nodded immediately, extending your hand in front of him with starry eyes. Without a word, he slipped the opulent band onto your ring finger, careful not to make contact with your skin. You pulled away and admired the accessory— you’d be set for a thousand lives if you sold this heavy thing.
“Thank you…” You smiled softly.
“This ring is a royal heirloom, along with one other,” He warned, pointing to the Crest engraved in the gemstone. “Do. Not. Lose. It.”
Your heart pounded in your chest as you stared at the ring, nodding quickly, “Yes… I won’t.”
“Good. Now go. The maids will show you to your chambers. Be ready for your etiquette lessons tomorrow.”
You rose from the sofa shakily, bowing once more. The difference between this man and the one you’d met earlier was staggering, and you already had a not so vague idea on who you preferred.
“Then I shall see you tomorrow. Goodnight, Your Imperial Highness.”
Your eyelids felt heavy as you tried to open them. You blinked once, twice, three times– your vision blurred with remnants of sleep before gradually sharpening into clarity. But what you saw around you was anything but familiar.
Gone were the days of waking up to dusty cobwebs and the cracks and crevices of a wrecked ceiling that you had grown used to. Instead, your eyes met a vast, polished quartz ceiling, glistening in the morning light. Above you was a fancy chandelier, its long golden-framed vines dripping with crystals, and glass trickled down from the hooks.
You shifted beneath your plush cover and froze for a second, because this soft sensation was just as unfamiliar. No more prickly stacks of straw or thin, rough blankets. No, today, you had woken up in luxury.
As you sat up, memories of yesterday flooded your mind. Oh, right. You were absolutely shocked when you were first led to your room. You could say you were floored by its elegance– far larger and more lavish than any room you had imagined you’d get. Though it still paled in comparison to Rin’s personal quarters, it was hard to grasp that this space was your room.
You remembered indulging yourself in a little tour last night, exploring it in awe. There was a massive walk-in closet, filled to the brim with fine dresses and gowns of rich silks and satins. Accessories like cocktail hats, jewel-studded heels, and purses of gorgeous colours, all of which you couldn’t wait to try, filled the shelves.
The grandest thing you had ever owned prior to this was a ring made of a flower’s stem.
But as you rubbed the sleep from your eyes, you felt a shiver run up your spine. Your heart jumped as you realized someone was in the room, and you let out a small squeak, instinctively clutching the covers.
“So you’ve finally woken up, my lady,” came a gentle, slightly amused voice.
You blinked rapidly, your gaze locking onto a pair of soft amethyst eyes. The young woman standing beside you had ginger hair that fell to her shoulders in soft curls, her pale cheeks peppered with specks of pretty freckles.
“W-Who are you…?” You asked carefully.
The woman set a pair of fluffy cotton slippers on the floor beside your bed, then gave you a small curtsy. “Eleanor, my lady. I am your lady-in-waiting.”
You slid your feet into the slippers, still feeling a little dazed. Eleanor busied herself with smoothing the bed linens as though it were the most natural thing in the world. “Meaning..?” you echoed, sitting up straighter.
She chuckled lightly. “Meaning I’ll attend to your personal needs and assist you with your duties to make sure you are well taken care of.” She gave you a smile, “You’re new to all this, aren’t you?”
You looked down at the marble bashfully, nodding your head, and admitted softly, “Yes…”
“Haha, that’s quite alright. But let’s not waste anymore time! We have to get you ready for today!”
“... Huh?”
You were absolutely pampered.
The question constantly lingered— what had you done to deserve this? Probably nothing but you were thankful that you went in the stead of your older sister.
Just a short while ago, you had been treated to the greatest bath of your life, courtesy of Eleanor. She had insisted it was part of her duty as your lady-in-waiting, but it seriously felt like a ritual reserved for queens. She skillfully massaged your muscles and rubbed your scalp with rosewater serenade. And when her hands worked authentic vanilla lather across your skin, you smelled like a warm, freshly baked biscuit. An upgrade from your baths in the river.
Currently, you were seated on a leathered stool as Eleanor combed through your hair with care. The reflection in the mirror in front could leave you gushing over yourself for hours. Your gown was a waterfall of midnight blue silk with intricate silver embroidery. Your waist was still uncomfortable from the pressure of the tight corset, but the result was definitely worth it.
A delicate web of pearls hung from around your neck, cool against your collarbone. You absentmindedly toyed with the silver tassel earrings as Eleanor finished adding the final sprinkle of silver glitter to your styled hair.
“You look absolutely breathtaking, my lady!” She exclaimed as she clapped her hands together to dust off the excess shimmer.
You smiled admiringly, turning your head left and right. “Thank you, Eleanor. I never thought I could look like this...”
You stood from the stool, walking towards the door before her voice stopped you in your tracks.
“Wait, my lady!”
You turned, watching as she carefully presented a delicate box etched with faint leaf patterns. Nestled inside were a pristine pair of white fine lace gloves that were long enough to elegantly reach the elbows.
“His Imperial Highness the Second Prince has ordered that you must wear these whenever you are with him,” She said quietly.
“Ah. Thanks.”
You understood. It was slightly disappointing that your fiancé would go to such lengths to avoid touching you. Was the prospect of touching you truly that distasteful to him? But you shrugged off the thought and removed your heirloom ring before sliding the gloves on. You put back the ring on top. It wasn’t everyday you got to wear something this refined. Perhaps it would be everyday from now on…
But then, the memory of Rin’s chilling words echoed through your mind. “Then, I’ll find a way to get rid of you.”
Your heart clenched and you shook your head. As long as you did as commanded, you were sure you’d be fine.
“Let’s go, Eleanor.”
Your body tensed under the penetrating gazes of the countless servants. Their stares followed you as you walked down the Main Hall of the right wing, heading towards the heart of the palace.
They weren’t even trying to hide their gossip. Why would they? Servants here were no ordinary peasants, they were people of the lowest class of nobility. Sons and daughters of Earls, Counts, Barons.
“His Highness must be smitten,” one maid said, “Just look at her dress!”
“Isn’t she from the slums?”
“And she wears the Royal Heirloom on her finger!”
“So, the rumours were true, then?”
“I heard she thought she'd be marrying the Crown Prince.”
“Pftt, That’s embarrassing.”
The hushed whispers suddenly quieted down to zero, and you assumed it was probably Eleanor’s doing because you could literally feel her piercing gaze though she was trailing respectfully behind you.
“It’s alright, Eleanor, leave them al—”
The words died in your throat the moment you caught sight of him– the man you first encountered when you arrived at the palace. He was exiting the Council Hall, deep in conversation with what looked like an advisor or high-ranking official. Your heart skipped a beat as you instinctively lifted the hem of your dress and rushed towards him.
“Your Highness!” you called out, your voice chirpier than you had intended.
He turned at the sound of your familiar voice, his eyes widening just slightly in surprise. For a fleeting moment, it seemed you had embodied the grace of a princess… had your heel not caught beneath you. You stumbled, eyes squeezing shut as you braced yourself for the fall. But instead of tasting the cold, hard floor, a pair of strong hands caught you, steadying you by your waist.
“Careful,” he warned softly, his hands lingering for just a moment before falling back to his sides. “You’re not used to heels.”
You laughed awkwardly, but you could not hide the disappointment that washed over your expression as his hands left you. “No, it’s my first time.”
He paused. His eyes stayed on you for a moment longer than they should, taking in the way your dress perfectly complimented your figure. But he realized this, and his gaze quickly shifted to the golden deer emblem mounted on the wall.
“You… look different,” He continued, rubbing the back of his neck.
The hall suddenly felt hot, or maybe it was just the heat radiating from your face. You dipped your head, fiddling with your clad fingers. “Oh, do I…?” you sputtered softly, but you silently cursed yourself for replying in such an awkward manner. Of course you looked different!
“Ahem,” Eleanor chimed in, coughing into her fist dramatically. “Not to interrupt, but I hear some alarming footsteps…”
“If you slack off one more fucking time, I’ll display your decapitated head on a pike to serve as an example for your pathetic kind!” a voice yelled from behind.
Rin stepped out the Council Hall, his face an angry scowl as he finished lashing at the minister who scurried away like a frightened animal. His eyes then flickered towards you and his older brother, and his expression soured further.
He turned to look at your lady-in-waiting, speaking sternly. “I thought I told you to bring her to my study,”
“We were on our way, Your Imperial Highness,” Eleanor responded politely, bowing her head.
“Incompetent.”
Rin’s attention shifted to you, noticing the lacey white covering up to your elbows. Without warning, he inched forward and closed the distance between you, his hand snaking around your waist. You tensed as his not unwelcome grip pulled you closer, your palm instinctively flying up to settle on his chest. You looked up at him gently, hesitantly, but his eyes weren’t on you– they were locked on his older brother.
He eyed his brother suspiciously, “What are you still doing here?” He asked. “Shouldn’t you be preparing for your trip to Berlina?”
“Berlina…?” You repeated in confusion.
“The Kingdom of Sorcery and Magic,” Eleanor quickly whispered into your ear, leaning in with her palm covering her mouth.
Sae’s expression remained indifferent, clearly unbothered. “Shouldn’t you be focusing on more important matters right now?” He let his eyes wander lazily towards your hand on Rin’s chest before he smirked. “Like… sharpening your embarrassingly inadequate swordsmanship skills?”
Rin’s face contorted in anger and his neck flushed a deep red. His grip on your shoulder tightened just enough to make you wince. “You bastard… You’ll regret this.” He seethed through clenched teeth.
The Second Prince glanced back at Eleanor in disgust, “You’re dismissed.”
He looked back at you, noticing your extravagant dress, before furrowing his brows. “The dress you’re wearing is too fancy for a day with no important occasion.”
You glanced down at your blue gown and shrugged. “Eleanor chose it for me,”
“Who?”
“—I personally think it suits her just right.” Sae broke in suddenly, wearing a smirk on his face as though he found pleasure in annoying his younger brother.
Rin narrowed his eyes at him. “Who asked for your opinion? And what were you two talking about, anyway?”
The Crown Prince hummed, leaning against the wall behind him. “Let’s see. Well, I told her she looked different, and helped her up when she tripped on her heels.”
“Tch.”
“But be careful,” Sae’s lips twitched into a small grin, his gaze drifting to meet your eyes. “keep your eyes on this beauty else I might steal her from you. Isn’t that right, my lady?”
Thump. Thump. Thump.
“Your Highness, even if you joke around like that, I don’t think my heart can take it–” you whispered, and Sae chuckled lightly, though Rin quickly pulled you behind him.
“That’s enough, stay away from her.” He glared, barely affecting Sae. “Your little jokes aren’t funny.”
“Who said I was joking?” The eldest quipped nonchalantly, and Rin just rolled his eyes.
“Let’s go.” He exasperated, holding onto your wrist and dragging you alongside him.
As his hand guided you away, you looked over your shoulder, searching for a familiar pair of tourmaline eyes. Ones identical to those of your fiancé’s. But instead, all you saw was a broad back and auburn hair shifting as he walked away in the opposite direction.
Rin slammed his fist against the hardwood of his desk. That interaction seemed to have spilled gasoline to the blue flames in his eyes, which were already burning with rage. “That bastard thinks he can keep playing games with me!”
You remained still, hands folded patiently over your abdomen. The last thing you wanted to do was provoke him further.
After a tense silence, Rin let out a sigh and collapsed into the plush seat behind his desk. “It’s alright,” he began, his voice softening just slightly. His gaze locked onto you in a way that made blood rush quicker through your veins. “You’re my ticket to becoming the emperor—” He leaned forward. “I need you.”
Your breath hitched in your throat at those words, but you knew not to expect much. Still, you mustered a sweet smile. “I’ll do my best, Your Highness. You were mentioning today’s schedule…?”
He leaned back, propping his arm on the armrest. “Right. My father is holding our engagement ball next week. Every noble house will be there to congratulate us. In the week leading up to it, you will perfect your manners and court etiquette. Understood?”
You gulped hard as a huge bag of responsibility was suddenly thrown onto your back. A week? To not work on, but perfect everything?
“...Understood.”
—
“... After you master public speaking skills,” Rin went on, “you’ll focus on formal dining etiquette. I don’t want you embarrassing me by eating with your hands. Then, you’ll have dancing lessons and study Royal Dress standards. You also need to be familiar with Aquaria’s history, diplomacy, and customs– especially royal protocols and responsibilities, and….”
His voice continued on, listing task after task. Your head was spinning, and you thought you were going to faint and collapse to the ground. This wasn’t the fairytale you’d imagined. You signed up for the fun part of being a princess— the ballgowns and the makeup, and maybe kissing the prince. This was a chore, the kind that made growing carrots and potatoes seem like heaven in comparison.
“By the end of this week, I expect you to be flawless. I’ve brought in the best tutors for reading, writing, and everything else– all that easy stuff. Do not disappoint me.”
You nodded automatically, but not before adding an innocent thought that had slipped into your mind, in a slightly sarcastic manner. “Have you perfected your swordplay, though?”
Now the temperature in the room seemed to drop down to zero as he bore his narrowed eyes at you. You felt a cold shiver run up all your bones, and your knees weakened. “You think you’re funny don’t you? Do you really want to play this game with me?”
Your bravado crumbled. “N-No…”
“Then get some rest,” he ordered. “Your training starts this afternoon.”
You nodded and quietly turned to leave the study.
Six long days had passed by since your lessons began. Six mentally and physically exhausting days.
Your dance instructor was a strict middle aged lady with sharp eyes and an even sharper tongue, who worked you till your feet were bruised. She made you balance books and vases on top of your head as you marched back and forth, her shrill voice cutting you off whenever your posture was horrible, or when you mixed up the steps for a dance made for another song. Although you loathed her guts, you couldn’t deny the significant improvement of your poise.
The dinner etiquette lessons, however, offered a time-out from that hag. Yes, you learned the basics of formal dining– how to keep your elbows off the table, chew with your mouth closed, use the silver utensils correctly, and pat your lips clean with the patterned napkins. But, the best part, or reward, was tasting the delicacies they served. Truffles, lobster coated with butter, and tender lamb chops. And then there were the fancy desserts– macarons pumped with ganache filling, puff pastry, tartelette au citron, éclair au chocolat, and more.
All of which you had never dreamt of tasting in your life, you who had never tasted anything more luxurious than a loaf of bread.
You also learned how to read and write, not for the reasons you preferred, but good nonetheless. You had found a particular fondness for the history lessons, which were not tedious at all. You were focused at all times much to your mentor’s surprise. Learning about the Royal family’s reign— how they had ruled over neighboring lands for centuries, managing resources, trade, and finance— fascinated you.
But your ears always managed to tune in and pick up the subtle gossip rotating among the maids and servants in the halls and libraries, so you had learned a few things.
The two princes were locked in a one-sided rivalry. One was fighting crystal and pickaxe for the crown, while the true heir showed little interest in the throne he was destined to inherit.
Sae, the eldest, wasn’t just entitled to the crown by birthright. He excelled at everything– swordplay, defense, archery, and horseback riding for royal ceremonies or simple trips to cities. His skills were polished to literal perfection. Rin, on the other hand, was skilled, but not extraordinary. He always lived in the shadow of his brother.
Yet Rin’s desire to become emperor wasn’t merely a wish— it was a burning, desperate need, an ambition to prove himself worthy. To finally win against Sae.
Killing his brother, of course, was out of the question— such an act would be treason. Besides, Rin didn’t just want him gone; he wanted Sae to see the moment when he ascended the throne, to admit defeat, to acknowledge that Rin had bested him.
Rin believed that the key to winning favour with their father—the current emperor—and the people was to flaunt his achievements, which, to remention, were not as good as Sae’s. But his sharp tongue and cold demeanor made it difficult for him to win many hearts. Sae learned to place a mask behind his foul words, whereas Rin still struggled to.
And that’s where you came into the picture.
You weren’t just his fiancée; you were part of his strategy. He’ll show you off before the court and the public, showcasing to the world how he transformed a mere commoner, a peasant, into someone of worth.
You came from a disgusting, needy village, yet now you stood in royal fits. To Rin, you were a symbol showing his ability to elevate those beneath him. A tool to gain the favour of the people. You could read and write now, you were beautiful, and in the eyes of the kingdom, you had the potential to become the empress one day— if, of course, Rin managed to seize the crown from his brother.
—
It was late at night, and the moon’s natural light filtered through your curtains. You moved to your huge window and brushed aside the rosegold-embroidered fabric as you peered down at the Royal Gardens. The view was similar to that of Rin’s, since your chambers were three spare rooms away from each other.
You were exhausted, but you always had time to admire the water spilling down elegantly from the angel sculptures’ stone lips, or the beautiful shrubs clipped into topiaries.
But all the exhaustion you felt moments ago suddenly vanished when your eyes caught sight of someone unexpected.
It was the Crown Prince. You had seen Sae around the palace during these tiring six days, and you’ve engaged in many small talks with him without Rin’s knowledge. Conversations flew naturally with him, he asked you about your life before the engagement, and though you were initially hesitant, you found yourself speaking openly with him. There was a strange ease to Sae that, oddly enough, only you seemed to feel.
You stared at him a bit too long, your gaze almost boring a hole into him, and he sensed it.
Pivoting on his heel, he made direct eye contact with you from below. A soft gasp escaped your lips, and you hurriedly pulled the curtain closed. But he could still see your silhouette, and when you peeked your head out slightly from the curtain, you could’ve sworn you’d seen him chuckle.
With a quick gesture of his hand, he beckoned you down to the gardens. Your pretty eyes widened, but you found yourself nodding eagerly with no hesitation. How could you refuse?
—
Panting softly between giggles, you rested your hands on your knees.
“I can’t believe you ran to meet me in your… nightgown,” Sae remarked, his lips curving into a subtle smirk.
You straightened and boldly stepped closer until you were only centimeters away from him. Your eyes twinkled in the moonlight, and you shone a smile brighter than la lune.
Sae’s breath caught in his throat as your face came full view and he felt his body still. You were Rin’s fiancée– he shouldn't be looking at you like this. But the glow of moonlight was making it hard…
“... You’re beautiful,” the words slipped out naturally.
Heat flooded the sweet curves of your cheeks at the way he said it so casually, so suddenly. Your gaze dropped to the freshly cut grass, your fingers nervously tucking a loose strand of your hair behind your ear.
“Thank you,” you muttered quietly, your voice barely above a hush.
Silence followed. But comfortable, nonetheless. Then, you noticed his hand, palm up and waiting in front of you. You blinked up at him in confusion.
“I am aware that I am in no position to do this, but…” He paused, “May I have this dance?”
Your eyebrows shot up comically in surprise, glistening doe eyes widening for the hundredth time tonight. Your heart was thumping so fast you thought it might burst from your chest, and you feared he might hear it.
It was risky, you knew that. If Rin were awake, he might have been watching from his window– his chambers were so close to yours. You knew how much he enjoyed looking from his window from the time you’ve spent together in the past week. But, he had dismissed you earlier to rest and this moment alone with Sae was tempting.
Hesitantly, your hand hovered over his before relaxing and letting it fall in his grasp. You met his gaze, and you shyly whispered,
“I know we’re not supposed to be doing this… but I want to.” Your fingers intertwined with his, and you smiled softly. “May I have this honour, Your Imperial Highness the Crown Prince?”
Sae glanced down at your hand weaved between his fingers. His brows furrowed in a frown, and a wave of panic washed over you. You literally felt your heart leap out of your chest. Had you overstepped your boundaries?
“I was only kidd—”
But instead of pulling away, he gently hooked his finger under the wristband of your glove, sliding it off your hand. You felt warmth bloom across your cheeks as he slowly removed the other glove too, making sure to leave his touch lingering on your bare skin.
“You don’t need to wear these ridiculous gloves to bed,” he said, “It’s unnecessary.”
Your cœur fluttered. “I… I just forgot,” you mumbled, embarrassed.
He rolled his eyes, but his lips quirked into a smile as he clasped your now bare hand, while the other found its place on your waist. The fabric of your silk nightgown was thin, and his touch felt intimate, direct, and you could feel his fingertips pressing lightly against your skin.
He led you in a slow dance gracefully under the protective gaze of the serene moon, delicately spinning you before your arms naturally draped around his neck. His hand slid to the small of your back, pulling you closer. He looked so good, he smelled so good, his touch so gentle. You wanted him.
“Do you like these gardens?” He asked suddenly, giving you another twirl.
You nodded, lacing your fingers in his. “I do. It’s quiet. The palace can be… overwhelming.”
Sae raised a brow, “Overwhelming, huh? For someone like you, I suppose it would be.”
The words stung slightly, but there was no malice in his voice. You dared to meet the eyes you came to adore, “And you? Why are you here, Your Highness?”
He paused, then turned slightly. “I’m avoiding another council meeting. You’d be surprised how tedious it can be listening to old men argue for hours on end.”
You laughed softly, and for a brief moment, his eyes softened. He pointed toward a part of the garden in the distance. “Come with me,” he said simply.
You followed, trembling as the Crown Prince led you with his fingers gently wrapped around your wrist. When you came to a stop, your breath caught in awe. Before you were roses of every shade– deep crimson, soft peach, porcelain white, and candy pink.
“They’re gorgeous,” you gasped.
“Right.” Sae bent down and plucked a single red rose from the bush, turning to you with a small, rare smile. “The red ones are my favorite,” he murmured, carefully tucking the rose into your hair.
You smiled sheepishly, gently patting the rose he’d placed. “They remind me of strawberry ja—”
“They remind me of blood,” he interrupted with a casual voice.
You blinked, startled by his answer. “R-Right.”
He chuckled softly, rubbing the area around his neck. “I can see why Rin chose you.”
You looked at him for a few seconds before quickly shaking your head. “He didn’t choose me, he just wanted any girl from our clan. My older sister was supposed to go, but I went in her stead. Besides, I’m nothing special… just convenient.”
“Convenient?” His gaze darkened slightly before his hand came up to rest on your chin. “...Don’t sell yourself short. You’re more than that.”
Your head quickly tilted down and you began to fiddle with your fingers, then with the simple lace adorning your neck. “Your Highness– stop saying things that make my heart, I don’t know, hurt?”
“Oh?” He placed his hands gently on your cheeks and you looked up at him lovingly. “That isn’t good for Rin, is it?”
You shook your head, “No, it isn’t. But he doesn’t make me feel this way.” You boldly placed your palms on his shoulders and stood on your tippy toes, and as soon as he leaned down slightly in approval, you pressed a soft kiss to his cheek.
He tapped his forehead against yours and smiled. His heart was beating a bit quicker, and he found it dangerous. “Well, I’m afraid I must leave now.” He drawled.
Your heart sank a little, your ethereal eyes flicking down. You nodded slowly, “Thank you for your time, Your Highness.”
He looked down at you, his expression softening. Slowly, he lifted your hand to his lips and pressed a chaste kiss to your skin. “It was a pleasure, my lady.”
If he couldn’t hear your heart thundering in your chest one thousand miles per hour moments ago, then he sure could now. As he disappeared, you placed your hand over your chest, rubbing over the spot where he’d kissed.
It seemed like Sae had yet again bested Rin in a game neither had realized they were playing.
Tonight was your engagement ball, the grand celebration that would officially announce your impending marriage to Rin.
You were both in his chamber, dressed fully in fancy outfits. He wore an elegant white attire adorned with the brooch of Aquaria and a navy blue sash draped across his chest. You wore a pitch black gown embroidered with gold, matching gloves, and heavy golden jewelry that Rin had exclusively bought for you.
The party had already begun downstairs, the grand ballroom filled with the most important guests from across the empire. But the grand entrance of the soon-to-be bride and groom had to wait for the Emperor’s speech, set to occur an hour after the festivities commenced.
“It’s a lunar eclipse,” you mused admiringly, leaning against the window. The moon, bloody red from the umbra, hung in the night sky ominously. “I’ve read about the phenomenon in the Royal Library. The stars look so close… they look like they could fall right into our hands.”
Rin rolled his eyes and walked closer to you, resting his hand on your further shoulder. He stared out the window in boredom. “How poetic,” he muttered sarcastically. “Even the moon is congratulating us tonight.”
You turned your gaze from the sky to him, your hand gently smoothing out a small wrinkle on his sash. “It’s time, isn’t it? We should head to the Ballroom.”
He grumbled in response, pushing your hand aside as if your touch was unnecessary.
The intricate grandfather clock suddenly chimed loudly. Midnight had arrived.
Tick.
“In the Twilight of the Eclipsing Red Moon…”
Tick.
“When Stars Align and Shadows Loom…”
Tick.
A strange voice seemed to rise from nowhere. You flinched visibly, a shiver creeping up your spine as the tiny hairs on the back of your neck stood up. You quickly found Rin’s hand and grasped it tightly.
“D-Did you hear that?” You shuddered, voice trembling.
He raised an eyebrow. “Hear what? You’re imagining things.”
You shook your head, swallowing hard. “No… I swear, I heard something– like a voice. It was…”
He scoffed, shaking his head dismissively. “It’s just the clock ticking. Don’t start getting all nervous on me now.” His grip tightened around your hand, but you doubted it was for your comfort. “You’re going to be on your best performance for me, Got it?”
You hesitantly nodded, your gaze lingering on the moon for a few more seconds. The red, eerie glow still haunted your thoughts. You reluctantly turned away, looping your arm through Rin’s to exit the chamber and enter the grandeur.
“Yes…”
“And I want to thank you all once more for attending tonight’s ball,” The Emperor’s proclamation boomed from behind the closed doors. The attention of every soul present was on him. “I would now like to announce the formal entry of The Second Prince of Aquaria, and his fiancée, a soon-to-be princess, Y/N!”
The large doors, decorated with orchids and bloody red roses, parted dramatically to reveal you and Rin hand in hand. The Royal Guards on each side immediately stiffened and raised gloved hands to their head in salute.
The aristocrats hushed immediately and their eyes followed as you both stepped onto the red carpet, descending the grand staircase and heading towards the two thrones.
You halted just below the steps of the thrones, immediately lowering your head in a bow of respect alongside Rin.
“Greetings, Your Imperial Majesties,” you murmured, lifting your head as you learned to.
“... Thank you, Father, Mother,” Rin’s voice followed formally.
Your gaze shifted towards the Empress. You particularly loved her as her lovely crimson hair always seemed to remind you of Sae. Oh, speaking of the Crown Prince, where was he? You hadn’t caught a glimpse of him yet.
You turned your head, eyes subtly scanning the room in search of a distinct redhead. And in the corner of your eye, you found him leaning casually against a balcony pillar, arms folded over his chest and eyes closed.
Your gaze softened at the sight of him before refocusing on the mob of aristocratic ladies and noblemen that had rushed to circle your betrothed as soon as the Imperial Greetings were over. They approached and offered smiles under snobby and vexing expressions, backhanded compliments under the guise of praise.
“Such a refreshing choice, Your Imperial Highness!” A brunette lady gibed, fanning herself with an elegant fan as she slyly smirked, “You’ve truly outdone us all in… originality.”
A Lord chuckled beside her, his laugh insufferably pompous. “I must say, Your Highness, I certainly admire you embracing such humble roots! A prince of the people! Ho ho ho!”
“I’m glad we have such a reliable prince who values all his subjects equally!”
“It is odd that His Imperial Highness the Crown Prince hasn’t found a lady yet.” One brought up.
An Earl added, “That’s true. He’s supposed to step up to the throne sooner or later. He needs an heir once he becomes Emperor.”
You squeezed Rin’s hand discreetly as he bit his lip in frustration at the mention of his brother. He needed to restrain himself at least this one time.
“I appreciate your sentiments–” he began, but faltered for a split second. “No I fucking don—” You squeezed his hand again, giving him a gentle nudge, and he cleared his throat. “Your support is reassuring,” he finished with a strained smile.
As your fiancé continued chatting with the backhanded nobles, your attention kept drifting towards Sae, stealing quick glances every now and then. He had begun conversing with a group of higher officials and ministers, likely discussing Berlina, The Kingdom of Sorcery and Magic that he had frequented many times to strengthen the Empire’s growing alliances.
Loud enchanting music began to play from the orchestra and many already established couples began to dance in the center. Expensive and rare gifts began to pile at your feet, congratulatory offerings from various guests. Rin accepted them indifferently and reluctantly offered his thanks with as much enthusiasm as the stone sculptures that lined the ballroom.
“This jewel was found in the Ancient land of Topion and is thought to bring good fortune!”
“This exotic bird from Elakis produces gold everytime it sings!”
“This sword is forged by a legendary ghost smith whose body lives in the volcanic depths of Loo!”
You froze when Sae stepped forward as the next gifter, and it seemed like the entire room was also holding its breath. He approached, your widened eyes drifting down to the elegant box in his hand. He opened it, revealing an intricate necklace with shimmering, round pearls.
“An authentic pearl necklace crafted by the Merman Emperor of Eau.” Sae presented with his usual calm demeanor, making it hard to believe that he had spent days negotiating with the merman to create a necklace exclusively suitable for you.
Your mouth parted in surprise, and the words tumbled out. “Oh– thank you! It’s… beautiful.”
Rin rolled his eyes, gently fisting your hair and lifting it to expose your neck. “You didn’t have to do that,” He hissed through gritted teeth, looking at Sae with teal eyes that crinkled in hate.
Sae met his brother’s glare with a simple hum, fastening the beaded necklace around your neck. You bit your lip tightly as his touch lingered on your skin, looking down at the pearls that beautifully settled against your collarbone. “That would be disrespectful to you both, I’m afraid,” He said. “Even Our Father, the Emperor, has offered her pleasantries.”
Rin clicked his tongue and looked back at you, wrapping his arm possessively around your waist and pulling you closer to him. He pressed a quick kiss to your forehead, catching you by surprise. The Crown Prince narrowed his eyes at the gesture.
“Come on, darling,” Rin emphasized as he spat out the term of endearment, though he internally cringed and wanted the ballroom to rupture and swallow him whole. The pet name left a bitter taste at the tip of his tongue. “It’s time for our dance.”
You nodded, your lips parting to speak, but, “Of course, Your High—”
“The Great’s Fate is Sealed in the Veil of Night…”
That haunting voice again. Your ears were ringing. You quickly squeezed your eyes shut and froze in your tracks.
“...By the Hand of One from Mystic Light.”
“I-It’s the voice again!” You whimpered, hands flying to your ears in a desperate attempt to block out the sound. “I hear it!”
Rin scoffed loudly, glancing left and right at the guests who were exchanging confused looks. Sae, on the other hand, seemed out of it, with half-closed, bleary eyes.
“Quit it, you fool!” Rin cursed in annoyance, his patience snapping. He grabbed you by your shoulders and yanked you to his chest away from their judgemental gazes.
“Voice? I don’t hear anything,” a lady whispered.
“Neither do I,” someone else chimed in.
A voice snickered, “She said ‘again’.”
“His Imperial Highness must be marrying someone with auditory hallucinations.” The words stung as they left another noble’s mouth.
Then, in an instant, the ballroom plunged into darkness as the bright chandeliers went out. The ballroom was only illuminated by the glow of a large bolt of lightning, and a thunder rattled so violently it deafened you and shook the windows. When the bulbs flickered back on, a shrill lady’s voice pierced the silent room.
“T-The Crown Prince! He’s not moving!”
All eyes shot to Sae, who lay motionless and graceful on the floor, hand on top of hand. He looked calm, as though he was merely resting.
You gasped in fear, hands flying to your mouth as you tried to stay balanced on your feet. Rin’s eyes in particular were the widest. The atmosphere in the room immediately shifted to terror as everyone noticed the ink-blue vines creeping slowly up his neck, thorn designs wrapping themselves around his throat.
“T-That’s… Alexis’ Curse!” The Emperor panicked.
You had read about it. Alexis’ Curse—an ancient legend of a wizard scorned by love. His heart had been shattered by the daughter of a shoemaker, Michelle Kaiser, who had chosen her Earl lover over him. She always refused Alexis’ advances, and the gifts he’d always present.
Enraged, Alexis had cursed the Earl, condemning him to a fate of eternal sleep unless the one he loved kissed him to break the spell. The curse wasn't one of eternal youth, however—the body continued to age, to decay, until there was nothing left but ugly bones.
But because Alexis had disposed of his inked body in his tower, the Earl had died alone, Michelle never finding him.
The curse had become a myth, that Alexis’ wrath was aimed at those of high status, warning them of the dangers of meddling with those beneath them.
But the nobles’ faces were literally drained of colour because what had once been myth was now terrifyingly real, before their very eyes.
It had been a few weeks since the disaster during your engagement party.
They had sealed Sae’s lifeless body deep in a chamber within the Main Palace’s basement. You attempted sneaking in multiple times, but you failed– the entry was heavily guarded and there was too much risk. And besides, if slipping past your lady-in-waiting wasn’t hard enough, Rin had become increasingly possessive as the possibility of being promoted to Crown Prince rose. That is if he was elected as so in the Royal Committee Meeting.
He was proud enough that he’d permit small acts of closeness– letting you remove your gloves when in his presence, even sharing his chamber. So, you would never risk waking him up while trying to sneak into the basement.
You recalled the aftermath of the disastrous ball vividly:
—
“I never knew he was so pathetic,” Rin sneered that night, running a hand through his dark hair before resting it at your throat and squeezing lightly. “Falling in love with you? A commoner? He must be out of his mind.”
He chuckled as he released you, pulling you into his chest.
“The whole Empire is so stupid. They think he fell in love with someone else. But it’s better this way.”
—
Yet despite Rin’s actions, your thoughts remained with Sae. You’d spent the weeks caring for Celestia, his white mare, as well as tending to Rin’s black stallion which he had never bothered to give a name to. You learned from the stable workers that Celestia was the mother of the charcoal horse.
Tonight, however, a once in a red moon opportunity presented itself. Your fiancé was away on royal business in Yelund, negotiating financial matters with their government in place of the Crown Prince. You took this chance, knowing it was the only one, and decided to sneak out.
You left your chamber, clutching a cage with a rat you’d found in the servants residence. You made your way through the darkened corridors until you reached the entrance of the basement. You hid yourself behind a large stone pillar and took a deep breath, tossing a small block of cheese across the room as a distraction.
The guards were alarmed by the subtle noise and quickly whipped their heads and ran towards the sound. You bit your lip in concentration— everything was going according to your plan. You quickly released the rat from its cage, watching it scurry across the concrete, and silently slipped into the Royal basement. You sighed in relief as you heard a guard's voice.
“Oh, it’s just a rat. Guards, get back into position.”
—
You slid off your heels so that your bare feet barely made a sound as they grazed the stone steps of the staircase. The basement wasn’t very illuminated if not for the dim candles that hung on the wall, and the stench was not horrible as you thought it would be. Instead, it smelled like preserved jasmine.
You were at the last step when you put your hand on the concrete wall, trying to catch your breath.
At the bottom, in the center of the relatively smaller room, stood a rectangular crystal glass box. Inside it, Sae lay perfectly still. The sight of him made your gaze soften and your heart clench as if it was put in a meat slicer. His skin was pale, but it was bolded, in contrast, by the inky blue vines tracing thorn and rose patterns across his body.
His cheeks and ears were faintly flushed by a baby pink dust, and his lips looked so soft, so gentle, so inviting. Stray strands of his red hair lay on the cushion beneath him, his long lashes resting against his cheekbones.
You were aching as you approached the enclosure. Your fingers trembled as you pressed them to the glass, your breath slightly fogging the surface. Tears blurred your vision as they began to roll down your cheeks, and you leaned down to gently caress his cheek with your bare hand, feeling the coolness of his skin.
You sniffled and your palms went to rub your glossy eyes, before you straightened up and curled your fingers on the glass in a tight grip. He looked beautiful, you thought, with roses that matched his hair colour surrounding him all over.
“Your Imperial Highn— no, Sae—” you whispered, “I… I love you, too.”
You cupped his face with quivering hands, your thumbs rubbing sweet circles on his skin as you contorted your body awkwardly to reach him. The glass was positioned high, at your waist’s level, so you had to twist your body and bend to touch him intimately.
Sae remained unmoving, yet you had hoped that somewhere deep within his slumber, he could sense your touch, or the sincerity of your unsteady voice confessing your reciprocated love.
As you leaned in to kiss him, that same sharp voice that you always hear yet again cut through your ears, and you instinctively covered them with your hands for protection.
“But From the Dust of Forgotten Lands,”
Your heart thumped faster in your chest as you tried to shake it off.
“Shall Rise a Heart with Common Hands,”
Beads of cold sweat trickled down your temple— you could never get used to the voice, no matter how many times you’d heard it.
“With Lips of Rose and Spirit Warm,”
Your hands fisted at the cotton under Sae, inhaling deeply before bending down until your face was inches away from his.
“To Bring the Order, End the Storm.”
Your lips hesitantly hovered over his mouth before you fluttered your eyes shut and pressed them against his in a kiss. Your lips together were so soft, yet they weren’t moving against each other like a mutual kiss would. They locked seamlessly in a way that felt strangely natural, as if the pair were made for each other.
Your lips lingered against his for a few seconds, and you wanted to relish the moment more, but you felt a subtle shift in Sae’s body. A faint flinch, almost imperceptible, ran through him, and the blue roses on his skin suddenly began to glow.
You pulled back before you could fully comprehend what was even happening, your lips just brushing his as you turned and sprinted towards the stairs. Fortunately, the guards on duty were in the midst of a shift exchange, so you assumed you had gone off flawlessly.
But not entirely.
A certain awakened man had caught a glimpse of your hair as it bounced during your escape.
The first light of morning stabbed your eyes, and they fluttered open abruptly as you realized Rin’s hands were on your shoulders, shaking you harshly. His face was itched in a deep scowl, his breath hot against your skin.
“What the fuck is all this about? This is what I come back to, you fucking whore?” He fumed venomously.
You blinked in confusion– your head was still fogged with sleep, after all.
“W-What..?”
—
The usual tranquility of the whole palace was broken by hurried, squeaky footsteps and frantic voices. News of the Crown Prince’s revival had spread like wildfire through the Royal Quarters: the sleeping prince had defeated the curse and had awakened after only a few mere weeks.
The servants and maids rushed through the hallways, scrambling to prepare for what would be an unexpected audience. Gossips and rumours flowed through every corridor of the palace faster than the head maid brewing herbal tea in preparation for noble guests.
And in the Royal Gardens outside, hundreds to near thousands of noblemen and noblewomen who were alerted of the Sae’s revival gathered, dressed in their finest dresses and suits.
Oh, you were so fucked.
—
“M-My lady, this isn’t good!” Eleanor cried as she ran into your room, “Hundreds of guests have arrived in the Throne room, and both princes are there too! His Imperial Majesty is now urgently awaiting your presence!”
Your hands instinctively wrapped around your abdomen, and you suddenly felt nauseous. Your body shook slightly, your teary eyes fixing themselves on the ground. You loved Sae, you really did, but doubt was gnawing at your organs. Kissing him felt right in that moment, yet you were starting to regret ever doing it.
What if he didn’t want your help? What if your peasant lips had tainted him? What if he didn’t want you?
“I… I don’t want to go,” you hiccuped, walking around your room in circles. “I’m so stupid, I should have never—”
“No, my lady,” She interrupted gently. “You must.”
You gulped and nodded hesitantly. Rin’s anger lingered in your mind like salt and pepper— his eyes were boiling over with rage, his face tinted a deep crimson red. You had never seen him like that, and now, as you stepped into the crowd gathered in the grand hall, all heads turned to look at you in a way that made you even more uncomfortable.
But the Emperor, however, did not seem angry. Weird enough, he looked elated for reasons you couldn’t yet pinpoint.
As Eleanor had said, Rin and Sae were both present, standing opposite each other like the rivals they were. Rin was struggling to contain the way he was absolutely fuming, while Sae was blatantly staring at you with no intention of hiding it. Unlike the way you usually reacted to the Crown Prince’s gaze, you felt rather nervous, flexing and unflexing your fingers.
You pinched the fabric of your simple gown and bowed low, and the thin patterns of the marble floor never seemed so interesting.
“Greetings, Your Imperial Majesty,” you addressed.
The Emperor nodded in acknowledgment, before turning his attention to Sae expectantly. “My son.”
“Yes, father.”
Before your wracked mind could process what was happening, Sae suddenly began striding toward you. Rin was a considerable distance away from you but he also furrowed his brows in confusion. A million thoughts started to run through his mind and he felt the unease creeping up his spine. Had they planned something behind his back?
Sae came to a stop in front of you, and your breath caught in your throat as you felt his arms, so muscular despite being under layers of hand-crafted clothing, loop around your waist and pull you close. Your face pressed against his chest, and your hands awkwardly hung near your sides despite being desperate to place themselves in places they’d beg to touch.
Loud gasps and surprised awes of the hundreds of uninvited, stunned guests echoed throughout the large room.
“Hey, what the heck–?” Rin suddenly snapped, biting down on his lip so hard that blood seeped out, the iron leaving a metallic taste on his tongue.
He didn’t like you, not really, but he had finally claimed something– someone that his older brother desired, and now it felt as though Sae was taking you from him.
It irritated him to no end, the way Sae’s hand gently patted your hair and the way you sheepishly smiled into his suit like an idiot– who the heck did you think you were? How could you? How fucking dare you?
And more importantly, why was the Emperor fine with this? Why was he chuckling so carelessly akin to the circus’ fool? What was going on?
But your mind was already in Saturn. You were lost in the Crown Prince’s musky scent and the oh-so-delicate taps of his fingers on your head, and when you heard that voice again, you closed your eyes knowingly and smiled for the first time in what felt like forever.
“A Crown of Old Shall Find its Grace,”
“In the Embrace of a Simple Face.”
“Y/N.” Sae’s voice broke through your thoughts and the voices of gossip in the crowd died down instantly. He tilted your chin up gently, thumbs caressing your face sweetly before his hands found their place on your cheeks.
Your eyes darted left and right nervously, avoiding his gaze. He'd never called you by your first name before. You shook those thoughts away and met his gaze. “Yes…?”
“You know,” He started, “To break the curse, the feeling of love must be mutual…”
Your cradled head nodded in his hands in embarrassment, and you felt heat creep up from your neck to your ears. “I’m aware,”
“So?”
Your eyes widened and immediately snapped down to the floor, watching your simple heels shuffling softly. You couldn’t help the soft giggle that escaped past your lips, and you only hoped that no one had heard that. You looked up at him affectionately.
“I love you…” Your voice dripped like melted caramel on his tongue, so sweet.
He smiled– a real, genuine smile that no one besides you could see– and leaned down, whispering an “I love you too,” before sealing his lips against yours. The kiss was gentle, and you let out a soft sigh as your fingers curled onto the rich fabric, gripping onto his attire tightly. His lips were warm as they moved against yours, unlike the cold, unmoving lips that you had claimed a while back.
When you finally pulled away, your eyes fluttered open, dazed with bleary eyes, little hearts seemingly etched into your pupils.
The crowd erupted into cheers and gasps, and maybe a few rolls of the eyes and glares from jealous noblewomen or daughters of Lords who had hoped to have Sae all to themselves, though you barely registered anything.
Why would anything matter, when you were here, openly in his arms?
“His Imperial Highness the Crown Prince is in love with his soon-to-be sister-in-law? This is hot news!”
“The Second Prince didn’t love her anyway.”
“He didn’t? But was it really a marriage of convenience, then?”
“No way, he must have been in love. What’s there to gain from a commoner?”
“But what could a village girl like her possibly offer the Crown Prince?”
The Emperor suddenly rose from his golden throne and stepped down the carpeted stairs, standing in the center. He cleared his throat and raised his scepter high in the air.
“I, the Emperor of the Royal Empire of Aquaria, officially dissolve the engagement between Y/N and the Second Prince, and announce the engagement between her and the Crown Prince!”
Rin’s eyes twitched. His fists clenched tighter by his sides, knuckles white and nails digging deep into his palms. He felt humiliated in front of so many people, but it is said that what goes around comes around.
“Huh? But Father, she's—” Rin began, but the Emperor turned his head and shot him a threatening glare.
“Emperor’s order.” With a voice that sharp, there was no possible room for argument.
You also stood frozen, mouth hanging open in disbelief as you blinked at the Emperor in the distance. But Sae’s fingers tipped your chin back up and his lips latched onto yours in a bold, open-mouthed kiss.
“Look at me,” he murmured as he pulled back slightly to look at you, his breath warm against your skin.
Your breath hitched, your gaze locking onto his. “Your Highness… I can’t believe this is happening,” You whisper-yelled in excitement, your hands waving around uncertainly.
He gently poked your cheeks. “You’ll take my last name since you don’t have one.”
You pinched yourself to check if this was all just a dream. If it was, you didn’t want to wake up. But it was all too real. The Crown Prince was now your fiancé. You were going to be the Crown Princess, and eventually, the Empress. And you were going to take his last name because commoners do not have the privilege of family names.
And despite everything, you strangely felt no deep remorse. You had slightly opened up to and grown fond of Rin in the past few weeks– he had those moments, but with you in his brother’s arms right now, you felt something different. You felt bad, but at the same time you didn’t. It wasn’t guilt. It was more complicated, but in the end, you didn’t dwell on it. You didn’t need to.
Rin stood in his spot motionless like a fallen angel’s statue, face hidden by a brush of his dark bangs. His eyes were fixed on the floor and his hands were clutching onto his pants like if he removed them hell would break loose.
His plan had backfired on him. Initially, he had chosen you, a commoner, as his fiancée to gain favour with the people, to appeal to the majority of Aquaria’s population, who were commoners themselves. It seemed like a strategic move at the time. His father, the Emperor, was known for his peculiar love for equality and would occasionally volunteer in villages, much to his dismay. Rin had believed marrying you would show his alignment with his father’s baffling… values, and would increase his chances of becoming the next ruler.
But no. His darn prodigy of a brother had bested him once again. Sae was better at everything: swordplay, horse riding, diplomacy, even winning nobles’ hearts. And now, his brother had not only fallen in love with his fiancée, a dumb commoner from the slums that he had chosen to boost his image, but also managed to make her fall heads over heels for him as well.
If that hadn’t infuriated him enough, he despised how his father wore that sickeningly proud smile on his face as he clapped his hands together, and how the couples were cheering and twirling like morons on the floor. While he stood stiff and awkward in the corner, insides seething in mixed emotions, hearing your stupid giggles and his brother’s irritatingly sweet reassurances of a better life with him. Sae had taken everything away from him, and it felt like salt being rubbed into an open wound.
But Rin hated his older brother, and he hated you too.
So on the night of your wedding, the chambermaid in your room let out a blood-curdling shriek, her face as pale as the moonlight that shone through the window.
Cruel streaks of mulberry and plum bruises painted the delicate canvas of your neck. The once-pure white of your nightgown now blemished with spreading stains of deep cherryrose dye called blood, seeping through the fabric and into the silken sheets beneath.
A severed porcelain horse’s head lay propped beside the body with vacant eyes, and scattered across the carpet were shattered remnants of a pearl necklace.
“But Do not be Fooled, One Shall Not Bloom,”
A dagger, its handle carved from true blue sapphire, was loosely wrapped between cold, limp fingers of a lifeless corpse sprawled across a river of red.
“For This, Will Lead to One’s Gentle Doom.”
© 2024 bluelockmaniac — do not repost, copy, translate, modify, etc my work on any platform !
#౨ৎ — vivi writes.#i just realized the love development is so bad#i'm gonna cry#but i'm too lazy to change it sorry#bllk#blue lock#bllk x reader#blue lock x reader#itoshi sae#sae itoshi#itoshi sae x reader#itoshi sae x you#itoshi sae x y/n#sae itoshi x reader#sae itoshi x you#sae itoshi x y/n#itoshi rin x reader#rin itoshi x reader#itoshi rin#rin itoshi#blue lock x y/n#blue lock x you#bllk x y/n#bllk x you#whoops forgot to add the tragedy & angst tag
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... "Re-connection Session" ...
A/B/O Platonic Yandere! Dick Grayson & Jason Todd x f! Reader
You never should have let Damian sleep in your lap, especially after rejecting Dick and Jason's request for attention. Now you have their jealousy to resolve. ... Dick and Jason are alphas and you are an omega. People can purr in this AU. ... TW: Blurred lines between family and intimacy, post-kidnap, non-consensual touching, forced proximity, being forced to undress, non-sexual nudity, traditional secondary gender roles
You stared at yourself in the bathroom mirror in silent dread.
Dick's old shirt hung low on your frame, the neckline falling past your collarbones and the hem dropping to your fingertips. The sleeves, thankfully, covered you to your elbows, but the desired effect was the same: easy access to your body.
This, accompanied by your underwear and Jason's basketball shorts were all you were allowed to wear.
Fear sat in your stomach line a rock. You were sure you were releasing enough panic pheromones to alert the whole house, but there was no frantic knocking to save you. Just you, your pounding heart, and the two men on the other side of the door.
Wiping your sweaty hands down your pants, you gave yourself one last look before leaving the bathroom. Dick's bedroom spread out before you, filled with old memorabilia and a large, plush bed in the center.
Dick and Jason were leaning against the wall in wait, arms crossed and heads tilted back. Dick grinned when he saw you.
"Alright, good," he said, slinging an arm over your shoulder. "It's a little late for an afternoon nap, so movie time?"
Dick's scent clung to you like a cologne, sweet and tangy. An alpha's smell was already stronger to omegas, but being wrapped in his shirt and pressed into his side was almost overwhelming. Jason, whose scent was more earthy and metallic, was a small reprieve.
Jason looked you up and down, appraising your posture and expression. You knew it was useless to try to hide your feelings, but you couldn't fight the urge to look away. You crossed your arms to cover yourself.
He reached over and ran a hand over your temple, brushing back stray curls. Jason, while never the most emotive on a day-to-day basis, had a cloudy expression today. His gaze bore into you, drinking up every micro-expression you tried to hide and cataloguing each one.
"No trash TV," Jason finally said. He dropped his hand and fell into stride with you and Dick, who was guiding you to his bed.
Dick dipped his head down so his cheek brushed your forehead. "What do you want to watch?"
"Anything is fine."
"Nope, that's not allowed," Dick lightly scolded. "This weekend's all about getting familiar. You need to learn how to go along with the family."
Your mind blanked as you scrambled to remember any move you've ever seen before. Embarrassment pricked your cheeks. "Maybe Pixar..."
Dick stopped you at the edge of the bed. He ruffled the back of Jason's hair before slapping his back, earning his hand a hard swat.
"You first, little wing."
Jason rolled his eyes and climbed on the bed, flopping into place on the silk covers. Dick ushered you on next with gentle hands, not giving you an inch of space as he followed suit.
You were settled into Jason's side, your front pressing into the long expanse of his body. Jason shifted and pulled off his shirt with one hand, tossing it off the bed before leaning back into you.
Your insides lurched at his naked chest, and you were boneless when he guided your head to rest on his shoulder. Jason's body was warm and sturdy. He eclipsed you in ways that made your heart flutter.
You tighten your arms around your chest to keep these stray feelings at bay.
Dick settled behind you with a happy sigh, shirtless as well. He weaseled your arm out of your hold and settled it over Jason's chest to maximize contact, then rested his hand on your waist.
His breath fanned the back of your head when he whispered, "I'm going to lift your shirt up now."
You held back a whimper when his hand slid beneath your shirt, trailing up your stomach to settle between your ribs. His palm spread flat, fingers reaching the better half of your stomach. He was dangerously close to brushing your breasts, but remained careful not to stray too far up.
Jason's hand trailed in next, gliding over your hip and up your spine, where it settled between your shoulder blades. His thumb brushed up and down in slow, even strokes.
They were everywhere. Their arms lay flushed against your body, touching as much skin as they possibly could, while their stomachs pressed into yours where your shirt had slid up. Their nudged your legs until you were tangled in theirs.
As hard as you tried to fight it, it was instinctual for pack members to seek physical contact. Touch was one of the most primal and easiest ways to show affection and community, so you knew that your days of solitude were numbered.
But this...
Tingles spread through your whole body, exacerbated by how touch-starved you were. The feeling of oneness, of unbridled intimacy with your family, sank deep into your heart.
Resist, resist, resist. You're stronger than these urges.
Your breathing accelerated. You knew what to expect going into this, but nothing could have prepared you for how emotionally penetrating it was. It was as if your very nature and mind were at war.
A steady purr rumbled in their chests as they basked in your company, soaking in as much of your warmth as they could. Jason's nose brushed your forehead, placing feather light kisses where he could reach. Dick was crooning.
Cold sweat prickled your skin.
Your hand tightened around Jason's back as claustrophobia set in. The purring turned to a low rumble and the pheromones in the air turned sour.
"Hey," Jason said softly. "You have to settle down."
You swallowed thickly to abate your fear. "You guys got defensive."
Dick nudged his nose on your neck, right above your scent glands. "Because you started smelling scared."
Oh.
You inhale shakily to calm your nerves. Jason hummed in your ear, a low, pleased sound.
"Good girl," he said. "Keep doing that. We have you."
You sucked in a sharp breath in defiance. Jason humphed. Dick laughed against your skin and squeezed your stomach playfully, grinning as he said, "You're as bad as Damian."
They nestled you tighter between them, purrs rumbling anew. Amidst the panic in your chest stirred another feeling. Maybe it's because you're getting drunk on an alpha's attention, but you felt a childish need to complain.
"How long will this take?" You asked, shifting uncomfortably between their sandwiched bodies.
Jason's face tightened around his eyes. "As long as it takes."
"For what?" you asked, frustration bubbling up your throat. "I've more than made up for turning you down yesterday."
"You need to want our touch," Dick said. He hesitated, mulling over if he should continue, then went on. "I think that if you let your guard down for a second and trusted your instincts, you would understand how much you need this."
"My guard is down. I'm completely defenseless," you hissed.
"Not what he was talking about. And that's what I'm not understanding, either," Jason said, frowning. "You're confused. You're completely out of touch with yourself."
The silence was heavy. They were waiting for you to speak, but you didn't trust anything that would come out of your mouth. You let the silence stretch on.
Jason's grimace deepened. "Are you having trouble being an omega because you were never taught how to be one?"
You scoffed, scandalized. Your frustration sparked into flames. "Because I don't know my place in an alpha's narrative?"
"No," Jason said defensively. "Because you don't know how to purr."
You couldn't respond.
You hadn't purred in years because there was no reason to. You weren't young, haven't dated in ages, didn't have any kids, and you definitely weren't about to purr for the Bats.
"I haven't heard you croon either. Or even ask to be held," Dick mumbled in thought.
Heat crept up your neck. They were wading in embarrassing waters now. You weren't a loser, just a little lonely—that's the only reason you stopped doing omegean things. And being their captive was a good enough reason to withhold everything.
These thoughts were enough when you were alone, but the shame creeping up your chest was startling.
Jason's hand drifted to your face, fingers sliding gently over your cheek. He used a knuckle to brush the tears from your eyelashes.
"It's okay to face these scary feelings," Jason whispered, face mere inches away. He looked at you with sad, loving eyes, while his scent was a whirlwind of conflicting emotion. Hope. Pity. Anger. Love.
Dick kissed the shell of your ear, thumb gliding over your skin where his hand rested. A soft rumble drifted from his chest. He said, "You're safe with us. It'll come naturally if you just let it."
The crux was that you didn't want to try. You wanted to withhold every valuable part of yourself from them and to make them pay for ruining your life.
But at the same time, you yearned to have a family. There was a vital part in your heart that was missing, one that could only be filled by belonging and love. You didn't want to ignore your secondary gender but you didn't want to share it with them, either.
Don't whimper. Don't smell like you want help.
You clamped your jaw shut and squeezed your eyes closed. Their pheromones filled the air with comfort, home, want, and it took every ounce of willpower to ignore the alphas' scents.
Jason kissed your eyelid, cupping your head in his palm. His purring and crooning joined Dick's, and it nearly drowned out your heartbeat hammering in your ears.
---
You passed the night in a daze. They nudged you to try to croon or purr, washing you with their scents and physical contact, but their efforts didn't yield results. Outwardly, that is.
Inside, you were swimming with panic and haziness.
Skin-to-skin touching was starting to take a toll on you. In a stronger headspace, you could ignore the pleasant allure of touching them, but your boundaries and primal needs were beginning to blur.
They felt good. They felt safe. You wanted to cling to Jason's chest and sob in relief at finally being wanted. You wanted Dick to keep cooing and petting you like you were the most cherished thing in his life. Each kiss stoked a fire you were desperately trying to put out.
At the same time, your defiance was making them restless. Dick and Jason had begun to smell more potent and move more assertively. Omegas weren't meant to resist their alpha pack members, especially in a domestic setting.
Despite a tiring night of caressing and pleading, you didn't loosen your tight control on your emotions. Dick and Jason were still completely cut off from you, and you could tell they were thinking of ways to get you to fold.
Sunlight filtered through the blinds, accompanied by the muffled voices of Sunday morning cartoons. All of you were on Dick's bed and eating in silence.
The soup in your lap was one of Alfred's "sick soups." It was hardy and chock-full of vegetables and pork, and made especially to ease the tension in the room.
Their heavy gazes kept your head bowed as you tried to eat what little food you could.
Dick's bowl clinked as he set it on the floor.
"Submission isn't shameful," he said suddenly. "Is that what this is? You think it makes you less of a person?"
You look down into your soup, lips tightening. "No, I know it's fine... I would just prefer to keep things how they are."
"Why?" Dick said, scooting closer to you.
"It's my choice."
"No, why?" Frustration cut into Dick's voice. "I'm trying to work with you."
"Is bodily autonomy not a good enough reason?" You bit back. "I don't know, Dick. 'No' should be a good enough answer."
Jason's hand touched your back, making you lurch forward. Soup nearly spilled from your bowl, but Dick caught it in time. Jason sighed angrily while Dick set your food on the bedside table.
"This isn't normal," Jason said hotly. "Omegas shouldn't flinch at their caretakers, especially when they're treated as well as you are."
You gripped the bed sheets, guilt filtering in at the truth in his words. "Sorry," you said meekly.
Jason deflated slightly, then brought his hand back up. It settled on the nape of your neck, his large palm cupping the entire surface. Tingles rippled through your body and ignited goosebumps across your back.
Jason rested his head on yours, absently rubbing the scent pad in his cheek on your hair. He said, "Did something bad happen that made you afraid?"
"No," you said quickly. Aside from being kidnapped by them, that is.
Dick moved in closer. His voice was soft. "Then why?"
"I just..." You brought your knees up to your chest and covered your eyes with a palm. "This domesticity just isn't for me."
"You need to practice," Dick reiterated. "Maybe we can give you a simple command and you follow it? So you'll get used to how it feels?"
You peek between your fingers to glare at him.
"No, really. I read some omegean blogs that said yielding to your alpha's orders feels really good." Dick looked between you and Jason hopefully. "Or we can read some articles by older omegas so you know how to handle your feelings?"
You held back a sharp comment about where he can shove those articles. Instead you said, "Only people with religious agendas write those things."
Jason looked like he agreed, but he didn't take your side.
"We can't do nothing," Jason said, eyes flitting up to Dick.
Dick sucked the inside of his cheek. "And she's unresponsive to positive reinforcement and suggestions."
Fear brewed in your gut. "What are you implying?"
Dick touched your knee, drawing your attention to his face. "You need to purr. Or present submissive pheromones. It'll break the dam so everything comes out easier."
A blush swept up your face and you jerked your knee away from him. "You can't just ask that. No. My answer is no."
Dick's gaze returned to Jason's. Dick frowned, then quirked a brow. "People purr to self-sooth, too."
You tensed. "Dick. Stop."
Jason hesitated, face pinching at the fear in your scent. "What do you suggest?"
"Full body contact and commands. It'll overwhelm her, so she'll self-sooth then default to the natural order."
"Jason." Your voice was high and sharp. "Make him stop. This is wrong."
"Jay," Dick said, looking every bit as sincere as he sounded. "I know you're apprehensive, but she won't come to this conclusion herself. She needs to be guided in a controlled environment."
Jason's face screwed up in worry. "It's traumatic."
"Temporarily. She'll be in our care the whole time," Dick reassured him. "It'll be over the moment she submits."
"Please, Jason, no!" You pushed your face into Jason's chest, clinging to his chest. Tears poured down your face as you shook. "I'm sorry, I'll try harder. Whatever this is, don't do it."
Jason's jaw set, the muscles in his neck flexing. "Then purr."
"What?"
"I'm giving you a way out. You have to trigger your primal state and ask for our care. It's not something you can do manually, so start by purring."
"I..." Your breath caught in your lungs. You were too scared to purr, much less seek their comfort for anything.
You swallowed hard and coughed weakly, trying to activate your secondary vocal cords.
Several moments of silence passed before a small huff of a rumble left your throat. It sounded pathetic to your own ears, probably more-so to theirs, and your throat constricted from embarrassment.
"Forcing me won't make me want to... do that," you said weakly, breath hitching from your tears. "Isn't there another way?"
Dick sighed deeply. "Thanks for trying."
He leaned in and kissed your neck, rubbing his hand in comforting circles on your back. You tilted your head to the side to give him better access, still shaking against Jason's chest. Dick smiled softly and kissed your neck again before drawing back.
"Jason," Dick said, "hold her feet down."
Jason's hands clamped around your legs before you could register Dick's words. Your world tilted and you were on your back before you could shout.
"No! Please!" You thrashed against his hold when Dick descended on you.
Dick put a hand on your chest to keep you down, then pinned you with his knee. Your hands clawed everywhere you could reach, but they paid no mind.
"You're fine. You're wearing underwear, right?" Dick asked. His finger hooked on your waistband, pulling it up to confirm. "Yeah. Look, just focus on breathing."
"No! No!" you shrieked as your pants slipped down your thighs.
Jason kept you from kicking, although it probably wouldn't matter either way. Their bodies were hardened from years of vigilante work and they moved together like a machine.
They unhooked your pants from your ankles and dropped it off the bed. You tried to curl into a ball, but their weight on your body kept you immobile.
You begged again, reaching out to Jason for help. His face was twisted in pain but he made no move to stop it. The comforting scent he pushed out did nothing to quell your panic.
Dick hushed you gently, face pleasant and movements slow, and reached for your shirt.
"I'm not wearing a bra!" you shouted hysterically, trying fruitlessly to push his knee off your chest.
Dick looked down at you patiently. "Then slip your arms in your shirt and cover yourself."
You stared up at him with wide eyes. Was he really, really about to do this? Trigger you so it activates your omegean instincts?
When he grabbed the edge of your shirt, your heart jumped up your throat. You wrangled your arms inside your sleeves and covered your breasts as well as you could.
Dick took his knee off your chest and dragged the shirt up over your body. It slid off with ease, leaving you in only your underwear.
You sobbed loudly.
Jason scooped you into his arms and pulled you up the bed. He settled you on a soft pillow, nuzzling his cheek against yours in silent apology.
You immediately curled into a ball when their hands left you. To your horror you saw them strip off their pants as well, leaving them in only their boxers.
"God, stop," you plead, voice breaking.
"It's okay," Dick whispered as he slid into place in front of you. "We do this all the time. It's important."
Perhaps he was referring to the after-workout cuddle piles, but even those had longer pants and chest coverage for girls.
The heat from their bodies sank into your flesh and disrupted your frantic thinking. Your alphas—no, Dick and Jason, you corrected—held you like you were sacred. It was a feeling of your deepest daydreams come true, to have a pack that was so open about their care for you.
If only they hadn't kidnapped you.
The compulsion to accept their love dug deep in your mind, and you found it harder and harder to remember the reasons why you shouldn't. Your anger began to seem trivial compared to the safety and adoration they promised.
Tears fell down your cheeks again, and you clung to Dick's chest to anchor yourself. He laid several kisses on the crown of your head.
"I'm going to give you some orders, okay?" Dick said. "You'll be compelled to follow them."
"I don't want to," you croaked.
"That time has passed," Jason mumbled, stroking your arm with his thumb.
Dick cleared his throat, and your blood ran cold in anticipation.
"Hold Jason's hand." Dick's alpha voice struck you like a cannon.
The command wound around every corner of your mind. It strangled your freewill in a vice hold, suffocating any lingering thoughts of freedom until all that was left was them.
An alpha's command wasn't absolute, but it was damn near close.
Your insides rattle with a urge to hurry, hurry and complete alpha's orders. Make Brother happy.
Cold sweat spread across your back, making you feel sickly and sticky. Your eyesight narrowed to Dick's chest as you fought off the intrusive thoughts, not noticing anything but your vision blackening around the edges.
Please, no no no no no.
Jason's hand hovered next to yours, making it easy for you to obey.
"I... I c-c..." you stuttered.
Follow, follow, follow, your mind screamed at you. Brother will be disappointed.
You clung to Dick's bicep and screwed your eyes shut. A disapproving growl bubbled in Dick's throat.
"Take it," Dick ordered, grabbing your wrist and holding it above Jason's hand. "It's for your own good, so take it."
Jason bumped his head into yours and pushed you towards Dick's neck. You tried to squirm away, but their bodies kept you immobile, leaving your only option to settle your nose into Dick's neck and breathe.
The smell was intoxicating. It was impossible to fight off—his warm and strong scent flooding your head and making your mind melt.
Without you realizing, a broken whine left your throat. Dick and Jason reacted instantly. They hugged you tighter, shushing you and peppering kisses wherever they could reach.
Their scent changed too. Frustration was pushed out by love, comfort, love, and it smothered your senses. You whimpered, your whole body shuttering from your tears.
Fuck, you wanted your alphas so badly. Your brother's comfort enveloped you and left nothing else to do but welcome it.
Your guilt and doubt multiplied at rapid speed. Maybe you were wrong for rejecting this. Being close and following their orders felt as good as Dick had said, so maybe they were right about other things, too.
"She's defaulting" Jason said, words fast and nervous.
You whined again, broken and airy and filled with all the conflicting misery you felt. Your sense of self slipped between your fingers like water, making room for the person they wanted you to become—who you were commanded to become.
The heat of their bodies made your world spin. Their loving touches make your mind blank.
Dick shushed you and cooed comforting words, and the resilient voice in your head silenced.
Oh god, they felt like your soulmates. This seemed predestined, like you were born to be in their family.
Your exposed bodies pressing together destroyed the illusion of self, giving way to their truest law: you were theirs, body and soul.
"One more time," Dick muttered. His voice deepened to say, "Hold Jason's hand."
You moved without thinking. Your fingers tangled into Jason's, your palm laying flat over his hand.
Relief bloomed in your chest, as if a tremendous weight had been lifted. The compulsion was replaced by deep satisfaction, one you found yourself craving again.
You listened and did good. Brothers are happy. You are loved.
Dick's grin was radiant. Tears sprung in his eyes as emotions overtook him, making his blue irises shine like gems. Quiet sniffles came from behind you, and by the jerkiness in Jason's body, you knew he was crying.
"Good girl," Dick praised, voice watery. "My baby."
Jason's nose pressed into your neck, taking shaky breaths of your scent. It calmed him slightly, yet his voice was still uneven. "She's feeling better. Do another one, Dick."
"Kiss me," Dick ordered.
Your lips pressed against his shoulder, and again on his collarbone. Dick laughed and sniffled, unintelligible croons tumbling from his mouth.
Your mind was a haze, unable to process anything but the two alphas around you. Your brothers were here and you were safe. How had you lived without this love for so long?
It was like an avalanche of pent-up emotions poured into your body. You were relieved to be free, angry at the pain you inflicted on yourself, and so, so happy to belong to Dick and Jason.
"I love you," Jason muttered into your hair.
Dick kissed your face, cupping your cheek and brushing his thumb over your skin. "I love you so much."
Your inner omega melted.
Love, love, love. Their scent consumed you.
You felt defined by their love, and felt like you would be nothing outside of it.
---
Dick's head was light from glee. "Did you see her stumble out of bed? She was still riding that high."
Jason didn't respond. He sat at the edge of Dick's bed while the aforementioned brother paced around his room.
Dick was too worked up to wait for a response.
"I bet it'll only take a week or two before she seeks the pack out. The attention's like a drug, you know. " Dick waved a hand. "I forgot the chemical. Whatever. But she definitely can't go back to being detached."
Jason's stomach squeezed at Dick's prideful smile.
"I feel slimy," Jason said, gripping his hands together tightly.
Dick abruptly stopped. "What?"
Jason didn't respond. He stared up at Dick with a grim look.
Several expressions passed Dick's face before he said, "That's all you took away from this?"
"I've written papers about why overpowering omegas is outdated and wrong."
"Yeah? I agreed too until we had a hurting omega in our care," Dick said. "Besides, if you feel like that then why didn't you say anything?"
Jason's jaw muscles tightened. "I said using an alpha's command was shitty, not unnecessary."
"It was beautiful, Jason," Dick hissed, temper flaring. "And she'll be happier because of it."
Dick stormed out, his good mood evaporated. The door slammed behind him, and Jason waited until he couldn't hear Dick's stomping before heaving a long sigh.
Jason hoped you wouldn't be too upset once you accepted their care. He made a vow to keep you safe and happy, and he would fulfill that promise even if you hated him for it.
Still, it hurt.
Jason's eyes drifted back to Dick's bed, to the spot where you had been lying. He crawled over and laid down, pushing his face into the sheets, and inhaled your fading scent.
---
For more yandere batfam, visit my masterlist!
#platonic yandere batfam#yandere batfam#yandere dick grayson#yandere jason todd#yandere batfamily#platonic yandere#yandere x reader#yandere#yandere dc#yandere batman#abo batfam#yandere abo
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LOVE IN THE SPOTLIGHT
summary Y/N Sánchez, daughter of Roselyn Sánchez, appeared on Jimmy Kimmel with her fiancé, Drew Starkey. While Y/N spoke confidently about her career, Drew couldn’t hide his admiration, often losing focus as he gazed at her. His lovestruck demeanor contrasted with Y/N’s composure, creating a sweet and memorable moment that left fans swooning over their undeniable chemistry.
features Fiancé!Drew Starkey x Fiancé!actress!reader
The bright lights of the studio shone down on me as I adjusted the hem of my flowing emerald-green dress. It hugged my figure perfectly, a piece from a designer who had insisted I wear it to highlight my poise and grace. But I wasn’t thinking about the dress or the cameras pointed at me. I was thinking about Drew Starkey, my fiancé, sitting just a few feet away. His piercing blue eyes followed my every movement, a soft smile playing at his lips.
Being the daughter of the legendary actress Roselyn Sánchez, I was a rising star in my own right. My breakout role in a critically acclaimed drama had catapulted me to the spotlight, and now I was the name on every producer’s lips. Despite my rapid ascent, I remained grounded, thanks in no small part to Drew, whose quiet confidence and unwavering support made him my anchor.
“We’re ready for you,” a producer’s voice called.
I gave Drew a quick glance. He gave me a reassuring nod, though his gaze lingered a bit too long. My beauty had always captivated him, but tonight, under the soft glow of studio lights, I felt otherworldly.
The interview set was elegant, with plush chairs and a backdrop of shimmering gold curtains. I took my seat beside Drew, the host across from us. The audience clapped enthusiastically, the excitement palpable.
“Good evening, everyone!” Jimmy began, flashing a practiced smile. “Tonight, we have two incredible guests: the stunning Y/N Sánchez and her fiancé, the talented Drew Starkey. Let’s give them a warm welcome!”
The applause swelled, and my cheeks flushed. I glanced at Drew, who was already looking at me, his expression soft and unguarded. He seemed utterly unaware of the cameras or the audience—his world had narrowed to just me.
“Y/N, your performance in Eclipsed Dreams has been called transformative. How does it feel to step out of your mother’s shadow and establish your own legacy?” Jimmy asked.
My smile widened. “It’s surreal. Growing up, I always admired my mother’s work, but she encouraged me to find my own path. It’s been a challenging journey, but I’m grateful for the opportunities and for the people who believe in me.”
Jimmy turned to Drew. “And Drew, you’ve been quite the supportive partner. What’s it like watching Y/N rise to stardom?”
Drew chuckled, running a hand through his hair. “Honestly, it’s mesmerizing. She’s incredibly talented, hardworking, and… well, look at her.” He gestured toward me, his voice tinged with awe. “She’s breathtaking.”
The audience swooned, and my face turned a deeper shade of pink. “You’re too much,” I murmured, though the sparkle in my eyes revealed my delight.
“Drew, you’ve built an impressive career yourself,” Jimmy continued. “What’s the key to balancing your own busy schedule with supporting Y/N?”
“Communication and respect,” Drew said. “We both have demanding careers, but we make time for each other. It helps that we genuinely enjoy spending time together—she’s my favorite person.”
“That’s so sweet,” Jimmy said, turning back to me. “Y/N, do you find inspiration in Drew’s work?”
I nodded enthusiastically. “Absolutely. Drew is so dedicated to his craft. Watching him immerse himself in his roles motivates me to give my all in my own performances. We’re constantly learning from each other.”
“It sounds like you have a wonderful partnership,” Jimmy said. “One last question: What’s next for both of you?”
I exchanged a glance with Drew before answering. “I’m working on a new project that’s still under wraps, but I’m really excited about it. It’s something completely different from anything I’ve done before.”
“And I’ve got a couple of films lined up,” Drew added. “But we’re also making sure to carve out some time for ourselves. Life is about balance, after all.”
The audience applauded as Jimmy wrapped up the interview. “Y/N and Drew, thank you so much for joining us tonight. We can’t wait to see what the future holds for you both.”
When the cameras stopped rolling, we lingered on the set, chatting with the host and producers. Drew’s hand never left mine, a quiet but constant reassurance.
“You were incredible,” Drew whispered as we walked toward our car. “I couldn’t take my eyes off you.”
“You’re biased,” I teased.
“Maybe,” he admitted, pulling me close. “But it’s the truth.”
We paused under the soft glow of the parking lot lights, the city’s hum around us. Drew cupped my face, his thumb brushing my cheek. “I’m so proud of you, Y/N. You’re a star, and not just on screen.”
Tears pricked my eyes as I leaned into his touch. “I couldn’t do any of this without you.”
Our lips met in a tender kiss, sealing a moment that felt timeless.
The interview aired the following evening, and social media exploded with praise. Fans gushed over my grace and Drew’s evident adoration. A clip of Drew’s comment about my beauty went viral, earning us the nickname “Hollywood’s Sweethearts.”
As we sat together in our cozy living room, scrolling through the flood of messages, Drew wrapped an arm around me. “Looks like people are just as mesmerized by you as I am.”
“By us,” I corrected, resting my head on his shoulder. “We’re a team, Drew.”
He kissed the top of my head. “The best team.”
And as the night stretched on, filled with laughter and love, I knew that no matter how bright my star shone, it would always shine brightest with Drew by my side.
© gensideas 2024
#drew starkey#drew starkey x reader#drew x reader#drew starkey x you#rafe cameron x female reader#rafe cameron#rafe obx#rafe outer banks#rafe x reader#outerbanks rafe#rafe fluff#variety#actors on actors#jimmy kimmel#celebrity interviews#celebrity#roselyn sanchez#fem reader#x reader#female reader#reader insert#i love him#hes so cute#drew starkey pics
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Moon deserves to have a couple of real toys, like a rubik's cube, a plush or two (or action figures, or both), and maybe a puzzle and some books, as well as a pack of varying sized googly eyes ^-^
And Sun could have a little something too since Eclipse has his own books to read(plus gadgets)
<< First < Previous ~*~ Next >
The crown and the tiara in the background are the presents they got in the Previous comic ^-^ (The previous also has a link to why they're wearing those costumes if someone found this on it's own
#cooking with sun au#fnaf daycare attendant#fnaf sun#fnaf moon#sun and moon fnaf#comic#ask response#Christmas presents#opening gifts
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Eclipse Kings
Part Four: Sweet Little Star
(Part One: Mountain Monkeys) (Part Two: Barbed Dusk) (Part Three: Wild Dawn) (Part Four: You Are Here)
(Extra One) (Art! Thank you to @lemon-ti)
(The “servants” around this lovely ecliptic pagoda are well-tailored to the needs of their lords, no matter the scenario- including hot meals and tension breakers.
You are the only sanctuary that MK has ever known. Through blistering summers spent as the shores of a rippling blue lake, through winters spent huddled together under a stack of blankets, hidden in a hole of straw-lined mud to try and avoid withering chills.
You are all the “home” that MK knows.
But the two demons who call him are certainly trying their damnedest to make up for lost time… to very little avail.
“Since we found you so late yesterday, we never got a chance to celebrate your birthday, Xiaotian... we can-
“Yesterday wasn’t my birthday,” the boy huffs, fingers deeply kneading the thick cotton trim of his new cape. “That’s not until winter.”
“…Xiaotian,” Macaque says, almost astonished at how confidently incorrect his son was, “you were born in the middle of autumn - who told you that it was winter?”
“Y/N.”
“…ah. No, that- okay,” he huffs, pinching the growing knot on his scarifying forehead- without the crown, his usual gouges were quickly healing - as he quickly pieced things together. “They didn’t know your birthday, so… so they just made that up. You were too little to remember the day, so Y/N lied-“
“Nuh uh! They wouldn’t lie to me !”
“…my bad, kid. Of course not. No, you were too little to remember, so Y/N just… pretended to know so you could celebrate. But your real birthday is in the middle of fall- it was yesterday.”
“No, cause it’s in the winter!”
Wukong laughs as his sable mate sits beside him, nestling into the plush cushions and groaning.
“Easy, moonbeam. Don’t push yourself- he’s still a toddler. We’ll get through to him.”
“I’d rather him just remember us and everything we did together,” Macaque snaps back throwing his head into Wukong’s lap- who, for his part, begins to smooth out the inky tresses of fur laid out before him. They stay there for a minute, quietly enjoying each other’s company, and then-
All of Macaque’s ears stiffen, six sharp points flaring up under his fur, which Wukong fluffs to hide them from sight. As much as he loves them, his mate’s feelings are very dissimilar.
He looks over with both hands over Macaque’s ears, looking to the marble doorway-
And it’s just you , wearing “your” lovely sky-blue hanfu, sash shoddily tied and silk pouch held close.
The umbrakinetic demon stands up without a noise, slowly walking over to you for a closer examination- he had heard about your little fit, and didn’t want a repeat for himself.
“It suits you,” Macaque says, giving an approving look to your new outfit- he reaches for the sash, maybe to correct or tighten it, but pulls away when you flinch, simply saying: “You can keep it. If you want.”
Be polite. You want this outfit. And you want the pouch. Be polite.
“…thank you. And.. were you… talking about his birthday?”
The king rolls his shoulders to stretch them, causing the thick spikes of fur on his head to swish and temporarily dip over his many, many forehead scars- they’re a lot more obvious now that he’s smashed the barbed circlet and scrubbed the dried blood from his forehead. “We were. Xiaotian didn’t know that it was in the middle of autumn. I hear the two of you celebrated it in winter.”
“Well, most of the time- it was just whenever snow fell for the first time in the year- I… I really didn’t have… I didn’t have too much to work with. So it was… usually in winter, or really late fall, one time we got really unlucky and it was mid-spring.”
“…what do you mean, ‘unlucky’?” Asks the Monkey King, standing up from his lavish recliner to replace all his accessories, each string of citrine beads and looping gold chains clinking against each other as he threaded them back into place. “I don’t remember ever hearing the mortals talk about a bad snow during spring- not anytime this century, at least.”
“It wasn’t bad- not for anyone else. We- MK and I,” you start, trying to ignore their little twitches at you using his nickname, “we lived in a little sunken hut. It was always falling apart in place, and- and I had to patch it up all the time- so snow was always really hard, cause it would make the mud I used all wet, and it’d drip from the holes-“
“You were using mud to keep your house together?”
Both of them share the same look, worriedly gazing upon little MK with a sort of regretful hindsight, thinking on how hard it must’ve been for him to reside in that squalid, rotted hovel- though Wukong is the one who speaks up. “So you- you and Xiaotian were living in a little muddy wreck?”
Macaque- you can’t read his expression, not quite, stares on with a deeply set frown- if you had to wager a guess, he seems to be some form of vaguely disappointed . Maybe that’s standard for kings when they hear about things like this. You don’t really care what he thinks- not when MK was fed, warm, and happy.
That was enough for you.
If they wanted to pull back and say it wasn’t enough for them, then- oh well.
But that’s not what happens. There is no remand or reproach, nor any discouraging words as to your care of their darling boy.
They just frown, thinking of what you- and more importantly, MK - might have gone through.
And you frown too, caught in a tense silence louder than any storm, more charged than a bolt of lightning forming in graying skies.
It’s simply… too much. There’s been too much everything across too little a timeline to accommodate for proper adjustment, so now everything has wound to a point of near shattering, fractures displayed so prominently across the terse “bond” shared that they were nearly visible to the naked eye.
And it isn’t for a solitary second that the quiet stretches on, heavy and suffocating- it’s pervasive, leaving you all standing there quietly.
You can feel their eyes on you, assessing, judging—not just your words but the years you spent with MK, the choices you made when you had nothing to work with but scraps and hope. They’ve swooped in now, claiming- reclaiming, as the nagging voice in your head reminds - him as theirs, and though you know he’s safer here, better provided for, the thought leaves a bitter taste in your mouth.
He had been fine without them.
He had been fine with you.
Why couldn’t it have just kept being you and- not your “temporary charge” Qi Xiaotian, Golden Star of Flower Fruit Mountain- but your little brother, MK?
Life had been miserably hard. It had been cold and drudging and dreary, and more than once you had come to one of the many peering peaks across the mountain, and sat on the idea of a quick end to the struggling.
And you had met your little “Monkie Kid”, just as cold and alone as you had been.
He had not just been your little brother-
He had been your entire reason for living.
And what did you have to live for now, with two people who could grant him ever luxury and possession a child could desire?
What did you have to live for?
Was there anything you-
“Excuse me,” calls a curt voice from behind, slicing the tension with practiced, professional ease. “We’ve prepared dinner for you, my lords.”
Like a metal door long unopened, there’s a hesitant, straining moment before the inevitable give , and then you all turn to look- at a very lovely woman. Her hair has been trimmed chin-short and styled into thick black waves, pulled to each side of her face to prominently display a golden ferronnière.
“My husband and I have finished cooking, and we wished to call you in before the meal grew cold,” she says, utterly unabated by the gone-cold atmosphere. “So we insist that you come and eat soon- preferably, right now. ”
There is no rolling of heads or smashing of bones arisen from the terse almost-command, and instead the Monkey King nods along with a chuckle and a laugh half-forced. “Of course, of course. Sorry for forgetting-“
“If you were truly sorry, you’d be in the kitchen eating all of our hard work.”
“Ahahaha! Fair enough! Moonbeam, let’s go have dinner. We can talk about celebrations tonight, together- when it’s quieter.”
Without you around to interject, of course.
Because why would anyone care about how long you spent in a crumbling shack held half-together with scraps of scrounged fabric and dried mud when you offered inconvenient things like “makeshift birthdays” and “learned attachments”?
Before your thoughts get too seething, the woman lightly claps her hands, snapping you and MK to attention.
“Since the two of you have… “lived a life of little substance”, let’s say, we’ve prepared a list of softer meals to help you both adjust to proper eating as quickly as possible- in about the course of a week. Sudden indulgence to richer foods could sicken you both- especially Lord Xiaotian. Today we’ve made a honeyed rice porridge with ripe tropical fruit, but I imagine you’ll also see fortified broth with bouillon powder, and… well, we’d be here all day if I laid them all out.
As the woman sends you and your brother down a hall together, before turning back to her eployers.
“And,” she whispers to the two kings, voice nearly low enough for you miss it, “ we’ve set aside some fruit purée and steamed milk with honey, if nothing else will work.”
“You are such a gem,” Macaque breathes, expressly pleased with her loyal diligence. “Now, if you’ll excuse me-“
“Your children are waiting,” she confirms, nudging him along. “Hurry and eat with them-“
And though he starts to correct her, to clarify that you are in fact not his child- the woman is gone in a swish of her long green dress.
You keep your head down, one hand gripping all of MK’s tiny fingers during your unflinching trek down the ornate hall. There’s hand-drawn pictures of many different demons, all portrayed with respect and pride. In one a purple minotaur holds an axe over his shoulder, horns and blade polished to a shine, in the next he’s standing beside a red-robed woman, tears brimming through his amber eyes as they focus on a small bundle in her arms. In another there’s a pachyderm demon, portrayed with thick glasses and a gargantuan stack of books- including one he must’ve been working on when the picture was drawn. The next is a bird with golden wings held aloft, spear dug into a training dummy made of stone. Then a lion, holding as many mortals possible aloft while trudging in waist-deep waters. One after another, demon after demon- though only those same four, aside from the woman.
Whoever they are, the kings clearly cherish them.
And said demons walk in unison just backwind of you, though their steps lack the carefree rhythm of easygoing camaraderie. They are just in steady lockstep, too close behind for comfort. You can hear the faint clinking of Wukong’s gold chains and the occasional rustle of Macaque’s red and black robe as they exchange glances, silent communication passing between them.
And then MK squeezes your fingers at tightly as his little fingers allow- a familiar gesture you’ve known through harsh nights and sluggish days, through famine and sickness and chill.
An anchor of reassurance in the overwhelming storm of unfamiliarity.
The shift you underwent was violent and painful. You had woken up half-paralyzed and nude, being scrubbed down by the two beings you feared most, incapable of speaking or moving- it had left a not-insignificant mark.
But MK?
MK had made a choice. He had chosen to come back, you were sure of it, sure that he had made a deal for your safety and retrieval alongside his own- of course he was going to adjust better than you.
But he was still a little boy.
A little boy who had spent his life in the hollow embrace of mud walls and patchwork blankets, in the firm grip of your scarred arms. This was a kingdom of excess, a world so vast and strange that it overwhelmed just as much as it comforted. He looks up to you, his tiny thumb fiddling with your knuckles, and you know what is being asked.
Are you staying?
You squeeze his hand back.
Always.
Neither of you is exactly cozy , but the air between you feels warmer for that little exchange, the newfound fuzziness lasting until the tall and gilded arc of a lavish dining room stands before the two of you, beckoning in.
Inside, the dining room gleams with you might bitterly call opulence . The long table stretches nearly half the length of the room, carved from a dark wood polished to a mirror’s finish. Gold filigree edges the surface, intertwining in swirling patterns that catch the warm glow of the lanterns overhead. The chairs are high-backed and cushioned, draped in fine fabrics with purple and gold-threaded embroidery. The centerpiece is a grand arrangement of flowers- peach blossoms and chrysanthemums interspersed with glowing lotuses.
The sheer decadence is suffocating .
MK gasps loudly at the sight, his wide eyes reflecting the glittering splendor. You squeeze his hand again, grounding him, grounding yourself. The boy looks up at you, half in wonder, half in unease. You feel it too- the crushing weight of not belonging. This isn’t your world. Not really. Not ever.
Not yet.
A man; dressed as elegantly as the woman that you presume to be his wife, is stocking the table with loaded plates. Not a drop spills onto his gold-lined white tangzhuang, no matter how much he moves.
“It’s an honor to be serving you again, Lord Xiaotian. And an honor to serve his savior, dear child.
He pushes up the bridge of his circular glasses, causing a sharp gleam to roll over them before coming over to usher you both in.
“Now, please- take your seats.”
There’s two chairs set aside specifically, both piled with stiff cushions to help someone of the height-disadvantaged reach the table- MK’s is especially egregious, containing no less than four.
Speaking of the boy, he tugs at your hand again, his curious eyes shifting between you and the chair meant for him. “Can we really sit here?” he whispers, voice laced with awe and a hint of anxiety.
Before you can answer, Macaque’s low voice cuts through the air as he and Wukong stride into the room after you, affably clapping their servant on his shoulders. “Of course you can,” he says, his tone soft but firm as both golden eyes land on you both. “This is your home now, Xiaotian. You can be wherever you want.”
Home. The word burns.
Maybe it sears even worse than the branding iron that haunts your dreams.
You take the seat beside his, allowing the cushion to sink as best it can under your meager weight, providing a nice abatement to your sore legs- though the cream Macaque had used to clear out grime and dirt had stopped burning not long after it was used, there was a dull ache left from both the concoction and, well… everything , really.
The man with glasses places bowls of warm, sweet-smelling rice porridge before you and MK, forcing your eyes to the bowl. The simple meal is an obvious concession to your past, but the presentation is impeccable, garnished with thin slices of banana and a drizzle of honey. It’s almost too beautiful to eat. Almost .
MK digs in immediately , tiny hands clutching the spoon with the clumsy enthusiasm only a child could muster. His muffled hum of delight sounds out at the first bite, drawing adoring coos from the two kings, and a faint, weary smile from you.
He deserves this, you think. He deserves a hundred lifetimes of warm meals, safe beds, and more love than his little heart could stand to hold.
You, however, hesitate. The porridge is still steaming, the honey forming golden rivulets over the creamy surface, but you can’t bring yourself to taste it just yet. It feels foreign, indulgent in a way that grates against the life you’ve lived- against the life that has shaped you into a scrapes-by survivor accustomed to spare bits of fuel.
You manage to lift the spoon and take a small bite.
The honeyed porridge is warm and sweet, slices of ripe banana on top to add a buttery texture that melts effortlessly on your tongue, imbuing a whisper of richness to each bite.
It’s good. Too good. It makes your chest ache.
Hunger is the world you have known, sprinkled through every aspects of your life in pieces. In the cold of winter on your stick-thin ribs, never enough meat to keep warm. In the gnawing ache that follows you to sleep. In the morning, curling like smoke in your chest as you wake, already weary. Hunger walks beside you, a shadow that stretches long.
A word heartbreakingly uttered from the lips of your darling little brother, spurring you to further and further extremes to keep him fed.
But today you are both full and warm, dressed and clean.
The thought pricks your eyes with tears, and the spoon seizes as a lump grows in your throat.
You could have never given this to MK.
The movement of your unwieldy hand grows faster and faster, shoveling more and more of the sweet porridge into your mouth, smearing it over your lips as tears begin to fall. Your spare hand drifts downwards to cusp the mildly growing curve of your stomach, feeling the meal compound through you. You drop the intricate spoon, and it clatters uselessly to the ground. In favor of scooping the meal bite by bite into your mouth, you do the simplest- and more importantly, fastest- thing possible.
You upend the contents directly into your mouth, the honeyed porridge spilling past your lips and onto your chin and cheeks. You drain it to the last drop and lick the remnants like a starving dog, and then set down the exquisite piece of china to reveal the tears dribbling over the sticky mess across your face.
“I want more,” you beg, voice plain and will broken. “Please, I-“
“ I don’t want to be hungry anymore.”
“…get them another bowl,” says Macaque, looking at you more closely than ever before. “As many as they need.”
”Until they’re full.”
#Platonic Yandere#Yandere Lego Monkie Kid#Yandere LMK#Yandere Sun Wukong#Yandere Macaque#MK#Yandere Father#Shadowpeach#Eclipse Kings#Not The Beloved#3K
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“Love Bites”
Pairing: Adult!Neteyam x fem!human!reader
W/c: 1.2k
Warnings/content: MDNI smut!, biting/marking, blood thirsty neteyam, a lil somnophilia but not much, established relationship, fingering, demon Teyam
A/n: this is prompt 6 for Pandora’s Bloody Moon, I’m sorry it’s 2 days late, I was so busy this weekend😩 also I’m sorry if it’s not good, it’s def not my best work but still hope you guys can enjoy :)
“I’ll see you tomorrow, paskalin,” Neteyam sweetly bid you goodbye with a peck on the cheek.
“Okay, Teyam,” you softly smiled in return.
He had walked you back to the lab and as much as you both stalled already, it was time to part ways. The upcoming Blood Moon tonight meant an early goodbye for the day. You two have been dating for months now, and the future Olo’eyktan has made it clear he wants to be mates with you, only when you were ready. However, it is not always easy handling your differences between your two species. Like tonight, for example; all the other Na’vi could participate in the night of the Blood Moon but you couldn’t, you’d be ripped apart and possibly killed. So, Neteyam made sure you were safe and sound back in your room in the lab complex well before nighttime settled in. He couldn’t have his little paskalin get eaten by the wolves.
…
Neteyam missed you at dinner but he knew it was for the best. He wanted nothing more than to keep you safe. Safe from the others and even himself. He didn’t know what he would be capable of doing to you. He didn’t even wanna be anywhere near his family, so he set off deep into the forest.
It was now eclipse and the Moon made its appearance. The moonlight made his skin tingle and he watched in bewilderment as his skin faded from azure to a milky gray. Though this happens every year, it never fails to bring an unsettling feeling of not having control over the effects. His breaths quickened and he felt strength and power spread through his limbs, creating the urge to break something. His little bioluminescent freckles turned to red speckles, much like the red irises he now possessed. His brain was processing the physical changes to his body as well as the feelings and urges that flooded his mind. His tongue felt his sharper canines and he thirsted for blood. Not just any blood though, your blood. He imagined your human blood would be much sweeter than anything else here. He knew his right mind was slipping away when his body naturally started carrying him in the direction of you.
…
He forcefully entered the lab and went straight to your room. Opening the door carefully, as to not wake you.
You were peacefully sleeping away, probably having sweet dreams. In the very back of his mind he knew he shouldn’t disturb you— knew he shouldn’t wake you and then watch you be terrified of the way he looked right now. But his instincts consumed him and controlled his thoughts now. He had to have you.
Walking over carefully, he noticed you were wearing a loose tank top, exposing much of your skin. He slowly lifted the cover off of your body and was met with the precious sight of you only wearing panties for bottoms. You were so sweet and small to him, your dainty little night clothes driving him absolutely insane. You were too good to be true in his opinion.
He gently slid his hand over your legs and arms, loving how soft and plush your smooth skin was. You moved some in your sleep, still not noticing him yet. He tried to keep his breathing in control by breathing in his nose and out his mouth quietly.
“So beautiful, yawne,” he whispered admiringly.
He started kneading your flesh, getting extremely aroused by you. He wanted nothing more than to dig his sharp canines into your skin and bite you—hopefully drawing some blood. But he needed you to wake up first so you wouldn’t be scared and flee from him.
He softly shook your form, beckoning you to wake up. You slowly stirred out of your slumber and your eyes blinked open—only to see those red eyes staring back at you. You jumped back at the sight of him and gasped.
“Shh, shh, it’s okay baby, it’s me!” He tried to calm you.
“T-Teyam?” You choked out weakly, “You’re n-not supposed to be here” your mind quickly registered.
“I know, I know, and I’m sorry, but I couldn’t stop myself from coming to see you… you’ll have to forgive me for what I’m going to do”
Your body was stiff and your eyes were full of concern for what he meant and what he might do to you in this state. But you slowly nodded as you relaxed some because it was still your Teyam and you trusted him.
“You look so pretty, baby,” he cooed while stroking your cheek tenderly. You smiled in return, still feeling a bit hesitant.
Then suddenly he leaned back down to your thighs and latched his teeth onto one of them.
“Teyam!!!!” You flew up to sit upright on the bed and looked at him. The pain of his canines impaling your skin combined with the pleasurable feeling of his warm mouth overwhelmed the nerves on your skin.
He only hummed and moaned on your flesh in response. You slightly winced, still staring at him in bewilderment. Then he smoothed his tongue over the wound, licking away the blood from the little pricks he made. He pulled back to admire his work, loving how his bite now marked you as his.
“Don’t think I can’t smell you, sevin. You liked it, didn’t you?” He smirked.
You blushed, still feeling confused at the mix of pain and pleasure and how it really did turn you on. You nodded and got out a weak “yeah..”
This only aroused him more. He wanted to see how you’d look writhing under him as he pleasured your pussy while marking other parts of your body. So he lifted your legs up to your chest and slid your panties to the side to see your glistening little cunt.
“Fuck baby. I might have to bite you more from now on,” he gloated.
He slowly pushed a finger into you and you moaned at the sensation, your head already swirling from the intense pleasure he gave you. He started pumping the digit, stating in awe at the mess you made and the loud squelching sounds.
He hovered over you and positioned himself closer to your face, connecting your lips in a needy kiss. You greedily took the kiss, tongues swirling and your lips getting all puffy. He moved down to your neck and latched onto it, pulling out a guttural moan from you. He hummed in the satisfaction of tasting your sweet blood again and it turned him on more, so he mindlessly dry humped your side and the bed, dying to get some kind of friction for his cock.
His efforts made you cum on his fingers, spewing out whimpers and moans in the process. He was still cleaning your neck wound while you were coming down from the high.
It seemed that having a taste of you only made him want more.
It was going to be a long night.
Taglist: @neteyamssyulang @bambithewriter @professional-yapper @property-of-neteyam @hidden-snow @live-laugh-neteyam @nonamevenus @loakstahni @ikeyniofthetayrangi @sugarsong78 @inolaphoenix @strongheartneteyam
#avatar smut#atwow#avatar the way of water#avatar#neteyam#avatar fanfiction#neteyam smut#james cameron avatar#neteyam x reader smut#neteyam te suli tsyeyk'itan#neteyam x reader#neteyam x human reader#neteyam x female reader#neteyam x you#pandorasbloodymoon
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In summary what are “the evil team” all I know about them is that they are dogdays
The evil team is made up of dogday from different alternate universes where he agrees with the ideals of the prototype whether his support is intentional or not
Among them is Father Dogday, he is aware of his actions and supports 1006, he also has an orange smoke that makes you laugh like crazy and have a lot of energy. He comes from the au solar eclipse Au in this Au exist heretic catnap
solar eclipse au belong to Dark_Kyrtsal on twitter
the others are re-educator dogday is called that because he is dedicated to re-educating any heretic by giving them a lobotomy with steel needles, something that was done to him because he previously wanted to escape but 1006 caught him and decided to fulfill catnap's wish who wanted his friend and boyfriend to also be a follower of the prototype but this wish made his dogday change drastically and now his dogday hates him and only follows 1006's wishes like a simple puppet he is from the au re-educador dogday is like a side idea from another au lunar eclipse au
Re educator dogday hate his catnap and in this au he is like the counterpart from father dogday he is priest catnap and Dogday hate him specially because he is jealous 1006 prefer catnap than him even when he is doing everything 1006 wishes
Re Education AU belong to BriBrithefox1
destiny dogday comes from a world where magic can be used and this was what made 1006 use magic to create the mini catnap plush to control dogday and have two followers. in this au catnap discovered the destiny that his dogday would have and sadly he wanted to avoid it by becoming a heretic to go against 1006 but he defeats him and makes him forget what he saw so the prototype to avoid this from happening again decides that he must control dogday so if catnap decides to go against him again he can use dogday this is the reason minimoon always is using the smoke and talking to dogday to make he gets used to hurt heretics this AU is call it red destiny au
Red Destiny au belong to towncritte
Now red therapy au or therapy Dogday follow the lore of the game in this one after the hour of the joy dogday used to be happy with his friends the smiling critters however, everything began to decline, his friends began to doubt this freedom, which caused fights between themselves in which Catnap had to kill them. Dogday affected by this went against Catnap but he used a lot of red smoke, which made Dogday have a radical change, which began to support Catnap and his ideas with 1006, even the prototype realized it, so he allowed Catnap to continue using the red gas, making Dogday unconsciously support 1006 and Catnap, even the prototype gives Dogday new metallic claws so that he can defend and of course hurt the rebels who would later be called heretics.
another evil dogday sometimes join to this group is from WIDE AWAKE Dogday by @Moonstone_uwu and @/mechanicmeister
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YAWNETU
CHAPTER 5
Jake x Neytiri x Na’vi!Reader
Summary: One other mate was enough, but two? Unneeded. ___ was the outcast, the unwanted woman. Jake and Neytiri wouldn’t ever see her..right? Warnings: Childbirth, Angst Word count: 3.6k A/N: ok so, I had to repost this chapter to be able to make edits since it didn’t let me before :’) enjoy, again
Taglist: @itsyoboysparkel @dumb-fawkin-bitch @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed @fanboyluvr @mooniequeen @berrybluez @bajadotcom @alwaysinwritersblock @pandoragalora @perfectprofessorloverapricot @lvrcpid @answer-the-sirens @phantomalex14 @neteyamforlife @bat1212 @sadforeversblog @ducks118 @cleverzonkwombatsludge @1800imgay @soushswag @honeybxes @lola-bunn1 @alldaysdreamers @doggodorime @theesexystallion @scarlettwch @annamarieisbae @wallpaintt @zatarias-pandora @daoyus @ambria @simp-erformarvelwomen @simpliheavenli @tojidilfs @automaticwizardnerd @lexasaurs634 @symptoms-of-moonlight @avtprint
@deviismynamewritingismygame @sunrays404 @tsireyassgurl @xx-kaitlyn-trixx-xx @that-one-daydreamer @yeosxxx @noname2246 @ok-boke @rubyrubyruuu @diosmilkymommers @annaleesworld @jiminsthickthighs @holysaladapricothero @peaches-peach-peach @enochi @thispussyshouldcomew @ihonestlydontknowwhattonamethis @kirisimpster @pompompomegranate @stevebuckysdoll @midhito @any-maybe @nyylovestowrite @omnimaki @blueberryfailureclinic @degenweeb @tejas-kris
___’s heartbeat thumped harshly against her chest, her breathing was ragged with shaky inhales and exhales. One hand rested upon her stomach while another leant on the ground behind her, supporting her body as she tipped back slightly.
She needed to get back to camp, the healers there would be able to use the appropriate oils and salves to sooth her pains, they also would be able to safely deliver her baby. She could not do it alone after all, even if her skills were exceedingly good.
The Na’vi grunted as she turned to stand up, getting into a squad to heave herself onto two feet. But as she did more water ran down her shaky legs and she huffed out, sitting back down onto the moss. She could not do it. Her birthing had to be done here.
Alone.
___ placed both hands behind her and scooted herself against the trunk of vitrautral, hopefully the great mother will guide her. The grass below her glowed a soft blue hue, even in the afternoon light she was able to make out the intricate glow.
A sharp pain in her abdomen made her screech out, leaning forward and deeply breathing. She was no stranger to the stories of childbirth, her sa’nok, along with the other mothers of the village told her stories of their labours. The wetness, the pain, the screaming, then it was the bliss, holding their child for the first time in their arms. At the time she could not wait for it to happen to herself, but now she regretted everything, she wanted them out.
More shouts left her plush lips as she moved to a squat, facing and leaning against the tree for support. One hand left the trunk to undo her tweng and feel her entrance, she was dilated. If she felt further she would of been able to make out the smoothness of a head.
When the contractions started coming closer in time, ___ knew she had to push. She cried, tears leaking from her flushed face as she wailed prayers to Eywa for a safe delivery, for Sylwanin and her ancestors to look out for her.
Time passed by fast and eclipse was nearing, the sun slowly backing into the shadows to make way for the night.
A hand was placed onto ___’s warm shoulder and the woman’s ears twitched, head swivelling around and her eyes widened as she was faced with Mo’at.
“___, ‘evi…” the Tsahìk reached a hand down to feel her daughter, the head was almost out already, it was no doubt she has been in labour for a while. “They are close” she smiled, reaching her head out to kiss her daughter in law’s wet cheek, “push ‘ite”
A scream was released into the air as ___ forced herself to squeeze, her opening stretching to accommodate the life that was coming out of her. Mo’at sang comforting prayers to their deity, hand under the baby to get ready to catch them when they fell, she moved ___ to arch her back more, watching as the child slipped out with ease.
The Tsahìk caught them, making sure to use her knife to cut the cord, “‘aw evengan, ma ‘ite” she grinned. The new mother turned her head and laughed, her lash line being coated with happy tears. Mo’at quickly moved to connect the boy’s queue to his mothers, tsaheylu was important for them to establish a mother-child bond. She moved him into his sa’nok’s arms as she weeped, he was beautiful. “What are you naming him?”
“Sylwaì” ___’s lip wobbled, ‘‘Sylwanin was a good name after all…’’. Before Mo’at could say anything else, another pained shout echoed through the cliffs that surrounded them. The elder was quick to asses the woman, checking her for any injuries until she felt her belly.
It was still large.
Immediately she felt ___’s entrance once again and gasped when another head had appeared. Another baby. This was never seen in the Na’vi, it was an enigma, something that may be caused by Jake’s human genes.
Without time to dwell, the Tsahìk coaxed the still squatting woman to squeeze once again, giving her praises and going back to singing hymns. ___ held her son close to her chest as he pawed at her chest beads, feeling her mothers distress through the bond.
But it was easier the second time around, the next baby came out without much of a hitch. After another push they slipped out and their mother collapsed after Mo’at cut the cord once again, “another boy, mune ‘itan, you have truly been blessed, Eywa has seen to you that you get the family you deserve”
“Sylwaì ulte Syatxì. My sons. My beautiful children” ___ grinned at the chubby boys as she formed the bond, connecting her second born to the tsaheylu that was already connected with his brother. The three bonded and all ___ felt was ‘onglawn, the exhilaration feeling the bond take place. She felt their calm breaths, their slow beating hearts and happy thoughts. Her happy babies.
“They are small, you have given birth too early ‘ite” The Tsahìk made sure the new mother was rested against the tree, looking around the dark horizon and back to the small family, smiling “but they are healthy, the great mother says they will be strong” she placed a hand on the others head, sending thanks to Eywa for the safe delivery. If she had not made it in time, she would not know how this would have turned out.
“How did you know I was in labour?” ___ looked up, still panting slightly. Her yellow eyes twinkled in the light of the tree of souls and her face glowed like any other new mother.
Mo’at tapped her own nose once, then tapped the other woman’s “a Tsahìk sees all” was the only words she said. But it was enough. Interpreting the will of Eywa was not something anyone could do, her mother in law holds a special bond with Pandora.
___ looked down at the boys who cooed sleepily “I did all the work to bring you here, and yet you are the ones who are tired?” the two women chuckled. The na’vi looked back up and sighed heavily, only one thought emerging from the back of her mind, making itself prominent in the way it pangs painfully.
Her mates. What would they say about this?
When the sun emerged from the giant planet, Polyphemus, and bathed Pandora with light once again, ___ awoke with her children resting safely in her arms. Mo’at a few feet away with some fruit cut up in front of her.
She sat up slowly and looked down to see her loincloth put back into place, her mother in law must have cleaned her when she was resting. A whine caught her attention and her ears swivelled, eyes landing on the boys stretching their little legs. ___ grinned brightly and brought them up to her chest, letting them suckle her for milk.
“Come, have some food. You should be hungry, like your boys” her mother beckoned her over, handing her slices of yovo. “We must get you back to the clan soon, their family must meet them”
At the mention of her mates, ___ turned her ears down. She did not want for her sons to be treated with unfair cruelty just like she had, and she knew that the couple would not hold back just because she gave birth to their sons. “I do not want to”
“What?” Mo’at looked at her like she grew two heads, she had an idea what has been happening with her children and tried to stop any wrongdoings. But she could not prevent what they did behind closed curtains in the privacy of their home. She felt helpless, and only wished for the great mother to guide them all to a better future.
“I do not want to go back. You know what will happen if I do. I cannot deal with this mistreatment on myself and I cannot allow it to happen to my sons” ___ kisses each boy on the back of their head, rubbing her thumbs on their backs as comfort. “I want to leave”
The elder’s eyes softened at the display of affection, pupils dilating in understanding. “If that is what you wish, I will help you ‘ite. But I hesitate, when you leave, I will no longer be able to watch you”
“But you are Tsahìk, I thought you see all” ___ jested, gaining a smile in return. “I leave tonight. But I do not know where to go, Pandora is too big and too dangerous”
“The Metkayina are reef Na’vi. If you travel beyond the sea you will be able to reach them, they will take you in. But the journey is long, you will need to be prepared for it” Mo’at stood up and helped ___ in the process, holding a hand on the young Na’vi’s back as they walked in the direction of camp. Speaking hushed whispers of where she would go, who she would meet, what to expect and what to take for her boys.
Sylwaì and Syatxì wriggled in their mothers hold, ears twitching and small tails wrapping around her wrists as they entered their home. Na’vi gasped at the family, having not seen their Tsahìk and her daughter in law for hours, they were starting to grow worried. But now they were back, bringing two small babies with them.
Some approached her to get a closer look, offering smiles and their congratulations. ___ grinned back, happy at the love her people saw for the babies. They both cooed when the women of the clan stroked their little hands and small noses.
“We give our thanks to Eywa, who has brought safe delivery to our new members, and your Olo’eyktan’s first borns” Mo’at lifted her hands to the sky while the clan cheered and whooped.
At the sound of loud shouting, Jake and Neytiri both turned to eachother, worried that something has happened while they were in their home. The woman dropped her basket weaving and rushed to grab her bow, Jake quickly doing the same for his gun while they slid down to the forest floor. “What’s going on?” he approached the large group, ready to attack.
The clan parted for their leaders to see and it was a sight that was most unexpected. ___ stood in the centre, looking tired but glowing all the same, holding two Na’vi babies in her arms. Neytiri’s eyes widened, looking from the babes to the mother’s now flat stomach, putting two and two together, “those children…” she whispered, mind wondering off. ___ gave birth without their knowledge, to two nonetheless and much earlier than anticipated.
Jake dropped his gun, staring at the boys. They were twins, both looking the exact same with three fingers and small tufts of hair on their head. They were cute, especially when they tried to open their eyes and reach their small hands to grasp whatever they could, making the sweetest sounds to their mama.
His babies. His boys.
He tried to walk closer to the group, taking careful steps but saw the way ___ clutched them closer, to the naked eye it would just look like she wanted a better hold on them. But to Jake’s, he saw the fear in her yellow orbs, the way she stared at him with anticipation, waiting for his next move. He stopped and his ears went down slightly.
“Omaticaya, we leave the family to rest” Mo’at, ever the observant, shooed the people away while her children and grandsons got acquainted, making sure to keep a close eye on them if anything were to happen. She will not allow her grandchildren to also suffer.
Once the clan parted and went back to their chores, Neytiri walked next to her husband, a sadness coating her face. “When…when did you do it” she looked into the eyes of the new mother and saw a sight she has become all to familiar with, it filled her with grief. Has she caused this? Deep down she knew she had, everything leading up to this moment was her fault.
___ stepped back slightly, eyes never leaving the couple, “last night…” she softly whimpered when Syatxì’s tail tightened on her wounded wrist, it has been treated, but still hurts and will take time to heal. The sound caused the two Na’vi in front of her to instinctively perk up, their eyes looking over her for any injuries and Neytiri’s breath hitched when landing on her wrist.
___ saw the change in her expression and decided to leave, she did not want to dwell with them for longer than she had to. She excused herself and walked away towards their home, climbing the tree to the best of her ability and settling down once she was inside the hut. She did not want to hear what they had to say. Not ever again.
___ strolled towards Hellsgate, after the hassle the clan made of her coming back she decided to pay the humans a visit, including Spider. Her twins were strapped in their carrier, one on the front and one on the back, both squealing happily at the atokirina that flew down and tickled them. Eywa was watching.
The Na’vi stepped over roots and rocks, finally seeing the entrance to the building a few ways ahead. Slowly walking down the hill and going towards it, hoping that they would not be alarmed by her sudden presence. “Kaltxì” the woman called once she was close enough, knocking on the door and grinning at the small man who opened it, Max.
“Hi ___! Come inside - oh! Congrats on the babies!” he cheerfully waved at her little ones, the babies stared at him, sucking their thumbs and most likely trying to see who he was through their growing eye sight. The Na’vi walked into the air lock, waiting for the next door to open so they could finally be where the rest of the tawtute were. Max strolled in front of her, pointing out where Norm was most likely at and she thanked him in English, some of these humans do not understand Na’vi so she made sure to adapt for them. “Hey ___” Norm grinned at her tiredly, noting the two babies strapped to her he blinked, surprised, “they are early” he stated, getting up from his seat and walking towards her. The taller woman kneeled down to introduce them, offering Norm to hold one, after their constant get togethers she grew to trust him. “No, I would rather not, Spider has been acting up like crazy and I think I’ve had my fill of kids for now…No offence!” He quickly added, not wanting to come off as rude.
___ smiled at him, understanding, sometimes the children she took care of can be a bit much “it is okay Norm, where is Spider though?”. The man pointed to a hallway just across from them, telling her that the boy was in the first room to the left. He quickly grabbed a breathing mask for her, noting that she had none on and urged her to take it before sending her off.
___ looped the device around her neck, understanding his concern but she will not need it, she is not staying long.
Little Miles was in a colourful room, playing with some wooden toys she have carved out a couple of weeks ago, in his left hand he held a figure of Toruk and in the right a Na’vi. He squealed when he saw her walk through the too small door, standing up on little legs and rushing towards her. “Hi! Hi!” he bellowed cutely, hugging her calf and rubbing his cheek on it.
The woman grinned brightly and sat down so they could be closer, untying her babies to introduce them to each other. “‘evi, this is Sylwaì and Syatxì” she observed as the human boy looked between the two and pointed to ___’s tummy in question. “Srane, I have gave birth to them last night” she stoked the boys blonde curls and watched as he poked one of the babies arms, he was as big as them. It made her giggle.
Her laughter mellowed at why she came to him in the first place, she had to tell him the news. Spider may not understand properly, but she loves the child, he deserves to be made aware. “Spider. Please look at me” she lifted his head to stare into his brown eyes softly “I am leaving Omaticaya” her voice cracked.
The toddler looked at her with confusion, only really understanding the word ‘leave’ after having heard it plenty when saying goodbye, but seeing the tears in the woman’s eyes he knew this was much more serious, “Leave?”
“Srane. I am leaving forever”
The English processed in his head and the boy felt his eyes well up, lip quivering. “Kehe! Stay! Sa’nok!”
___’s heart broke. Mother. He called her mother. She picked him up and placed him with her twins, kissing his head and wiping his tears. “Ma ‘itan. I have to. I do not feel safe here” he dulled down and whimpered, nodding his head. Smart boy, her smart boy. “I can not take you with me either, yawnetu. It is not safe for a tawtute, you can get hurt”
Spider nodded again slowly, coming to terms with their departure. Small tears dropped down his chubby cheeks, he was scared to lose her. But if she did not want to be here he can not stop her. “Sa’nok…” he cuddled into her large blue body, sniffling. ___ cooed and tried her best to comfort him, feeling her own sadness drip down her face.
“My child. We will see each other again. Become strong. Eywa will guide you, I promise” she took of the thin choker she wore around her neck, the beads shined in pretty blues and browns. ___ wrapped it around little Miles’s arm, touching her forehead to his. “‘itan, I will always love you”
The tree of souls glistened in the night of Pandora, ___ wanted the ceremony done now before she were to leave for good, who knows when her boys would ever get the chance to connect to a sacred space again? The reefs journey was long and there was no vitrautral for miles.
Mo’at chanted prayers into the air, the Omaticaya swayed in the back, humming songs of support, the floor glowed with their connection, a bright teal pulsed into the darkness. Syatxì and Sylwaì’s kurus linked with one of the hanging branches, it glowing with the newfound connection.
The two babies smiled gummy smiles to their parents, feeling the warmth of their great mother and the love that she holds for her children. Sylwaì gurgled happily at ___, her pupils dilated in pure bliss in return. Her sons were now connected to Pandora, they will grow with a strong connection to their deity and all living things.
Jake held Syatxì in his strong arms, as was custom for an Olo’eyktan and a father of almost three. He stared into his boys yellow eyes as he cooed, a small smile graced the man’s face as the baby made sweet sounds. How could he ever be deprived of them? How did he ever have the nerve to do this to their mother?
He glanced towards his left where ___ kissed Sylwaì’s forehead, heart beating just a tad faster. She was beautiful, she has always been beautiful. He just couldn’t believe it took so long to see it. To see her.
Mo’at nodded towards Jake curtly as she passed him, ending the ceremony with chirps and loud words of thanks. She was happy for her daughter in law, but not happy with her son. He did not deserve to hold that baby, but she could not protest, as is the way.
“My sweet babies” ___ whispered, nuzzling into the boy she held, pride overtaking her every being. Out of the corner of her eye she noticed Neytiri grinning at her, also proud of her old friend and mate for achieving something so great. ___’s mood instantly mellowed, she does not get to be proud.
Not after all she has done.
Her ikran landed onto the branch just a couple of minutes away from the clan, squawking at the sight of her rider and new offspring’s. “Kaltxì Tìlor” ___ stroked the nose of the creature, laughing quietly as she was smothered. “We must go. Far away” she connected queues and instantly Tìlor understood, wings flapping and pupils dilating. She must get her rider to safety.
___’s sons were in their carrier on either side of their mother once more, but this time swabbed in blankets just to make sure they will stay warm. It was an eight hour journey to the reefs, there she will find a clan that can take her in.
She has had enough of her mates mistreatment, it was about time she left. With the birth of her twins it motivated her to keep them safe from the hands of Jake and Neytiri who still slept soundly in their bed.
The Na’vi left the home she shared earlier that night, packing essentials such as food, water, warm clothes and memorabilia. She took Sylwanins beads and some of Mo’at’s jewellery, items to remember her home and loved ones here. She does not know if or when she will come back.
___ jumped softly up onto Tìlor’s back, urging her to lift up into the sky and away from Omaticaya. She looked back in sadness, high enough to see Hellsgate just past the tree line.
She prays that Jake and Neytiri will never find her.
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#*ੈ✩‧₊˚ yawnetu#avatar the way of water#x reader#na’vi!reader#omaticaya#jake sully#neytiri#twins#spider Socorro mentioned#Norm spellman mentioned#Mo’at#atwow x reader#angst#chapter 5
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Champion
Gladiator!Reader x Gods!Sun, Moon, & Eclipse
Commission Info
This was such a fun and unique fic to write and I'm honored @drops-of-the-sun requested my writing for their AU! A mix of gladiators and gods with two offers and difficult choices. I also loved describing the boys as gods and how they interacted with their champion!
Content Warning for suggestive themes.
———
The domus, a large house, stands tall and grand. In the shadow of the colosseum, it is a mere footstep of smooth marble but no less imposing. The double doors are gilded in gold, and the guards escorting you speak not a word as they push you through the entrance and into the atrium. You gaze around, wary. A large central hall is open at the roof, allowing sunlight to stream down and open up what would otherwise be drenched in shadows. Lavish decorations of gold vases, jewel-bright pottery, and marbled floors scream of the high importance of those residing here. The walls are splashed in frescoes of deep blue midnights and burning yellow mornings; the glorious depictions of the astral beings who must use this as a villa during the god games.
Why do they summon you now?
Aligned with the front door is a dark curtain of blue speckled with tiny yellow stars separating a study from the rest of the building. The guard pushes you towards it. You glare back at the rudeness of your escort. Though you are still a captive, you are a famous gladiator. Your renowned skills earn you much recognition within the colosseum, and though fame does not grant you freedom, it provides you with status. Status that should keep from being treated so harshly, like a lamb led to slaughter.
Unless that’s what you have become in such a short time. The god games are soon. Your heart cools like iron left out to crumble and crack at the thought of your patrons choosing to cast you aside for another—and forsake your chance for freedom.
A strong, steady voice speaks beyond the curtain.
“Enter, our champion.”
The guards step back in a unison beat of footsteps, standing tall and fearful of the gods they serve.
You however straighten with grizzled anticipation. You smooth down your chilton, a knee-length, short-sleeved tunic, and adjust the cloak carefully wrapped around your body. Stepping forward, you sweep the curtain aside and enter the study.
The room glitters lowly with the light filtering in from small square windows. A glow from the bronze couches, overrun with plush cushions, brightens the space. A center table piece of polished wood lies gilded in gold. The walls are finely decorated in frescoes of yellow ochre and blues so dark they’re almost black.
Two astral beings fill the room with their radiance. You remain guarded as you bow yourself before them in reverence. Your patrons are powerful. You do not trust them.
One steps forward, his body flickering with living flames. He dons dark armor, cladded with a rich red cloak down his back. Gold chains bridge over his chest and attach to his shoulders with the rich symbol of the sun. Aptly decorated, for he is Sun.
A marking that is upon your lower back, a stamp of claim when you first became their champion, shares the symbol.
The second astral being leans against the wall, draped in shadows. Moon. You resist a shiver as his crimson, otherworldly eyes look over you with an expression you can’t read. He lingers on the scar on your face, and you nearly turn your head away in anger that he would openly gaze at the marred flesh you despise. His arms are folded, and his skin is the living flesh of the night sky, dark and deep blue, with tiny stars speckling his body. He wears gray linen, thin and climbing up his throat. A tendril not unlike a nightcap falls over his shoulder from behind his head, shimmering softly.
“Welcome,” Sun greets boldly. He gestures an open arm over the couches. “Make yourself comfortable.”
You silently pad to the bronze seat. Sitting down, you loathe how they stand over you, lording, commanding, an untouchable power radiating from their beings.
“You are stunning, our champion.” Sun steps closer, and draws his finger along the scar of your face, leaving a hot trail over the bridge of your nose. “Your physical prowess is lethal and your strategic cunning is a marvel to behold.”
You hold very still, jaw clenched and muscles pulled taut along the length of your body. The beat of your heart jumps.
“Yes?” you inquire.
Sun flashes a burning smile, his pale eyes flicking like candlelight.
“We have an offer for you.”
Moon steps forward. He studies you fiercely, eyes half-lidded before he speaks.
“Become our consort.”
You stare, struck by the astral beings. A thick haze takes over your mind.
They already claim you, a marking of a moon and sun sitting on your lower back, circled in black. You, their champion. But to become a consort would mean a fight you have never faced before. Would they use you? Bleed you dry of all your mortal love before casting you aside? Do they only care to preserve their favorite fighter?
You don’t dare lean into their silvered words. How can you?
“We are waiting for your answer, my champion.” Sun steps closer. He takes your hand and brings it to his mouth where the temperance warmth of his flames lick your knuckles. “You have never been so uncertain in battle. Why begin now?”
“If you accept, you will have freedom,” Moon rasps darkly. He slips like a shadows to your side. He gathers your other hand and drags the back of his finger down a scar that cuts the length of your forearm. “You may refuse if you wish.”
“And rot in the colosseum,” Sun punctures cheerfully.
You shiver in equal parts fear and uncertainty.
Freedom. You could see your mother again, after all these years. She was frail before you were thrown into the gladiator fights. You have often imagined how unkind the years have been to her and your younger brother while you’ve been held away in the colosseum. How big has your brother grown? Has he moved on? Begun his own life? You hope so.
The two gods loom over you. You cannot keep them waiting.
You open your mouth, then close it, then open it again. This is not the simple task of cutting another down. This is your fate of dancing between the will of astral beings and your desires.
Can you trust your patrons?
“I beg, my lords, for time to consider this most gracious offer,” you speak, cool and cordial, but careful.
The flames of Sun’s being flare for a heartbeat, and the heat upon your hand creeps to an unbearable degree. Moon’s hand tightens around your wrist as if to place you in shackles. Would it matter to them if a consort is willing or not?
Sun grins and releases your hand. “Very well. A day should be plenty for you to understand what a gift this is. Moon?”
“Agreed.” He sets your hand back on your lap with a rubied stare. “You may go.”
You bow again and slowly rise. Without a word, you leave their presence, their stares cutting through your spine and into your very core before the curtain falls. You breathe out.
Is freedom worth the price of becoming two gods’ consort?
Your quarters are meager, dusty pale walls with simple wooden furniture strangely strewed with lavish gifts from rich contributors and sponsors of your battles. There are letters from those you celebrate your victories and root for more bloodshed by your hand.
If you accept being Sun’s and Moon’s consort, you are then slotted in as their champion for the god games, and winning such a battle would win you everything. Your gods’ affections, freedom, and the power to choose your fate—should your lords treat you well and properly.
You don’t believe they will simply adore you. They yearn for something. They wish to use up precious life at their whim.
But do you stay and fester, fighting until you grow older and more unbalanced, and a blade catches your heart?
What choice is there when it is between two shared fates of doom?
You do not light a lamp. You stay in the darkness and contemplate how you will answer in the morning.
A disturbance pulls you from your brooding. Under your door, darkness shifts. Before you can reach for your weapon, a column of smoke slips into your room. It spills and twists upon itself. From it emerges a god.
Your eyes widen before you throw yourself down on your knees, and bow properly. Never had you hosted such a guest in your pitiful chambers.
“Eclipse,” you breathe.
“Do not speak,” he growls. The god holds his two sets of arms wide. His skin is dark maroon, almost colorless. His loose brown robes expose his chest and the burning orange star set within his chest like an exposed heart. His one eye glows not unlike embers pulsing within a fire. A fierce marring on his other eye removes it completely. He glides deeper into the darkness of your room, standing before you.
“Rise, and sit with me.” He moves without confirming your movement. Draping himself upon the humble workings of your dull wooden couch, he waits for you. His head tilts expectantly. His sharp teeth flash, waiting.
You have no choice but to answer. Straightening, you rise to your feet and stand before him. His relaxed, reclined position on the couch is too uninhibited for your liking.
The god smirks up at you, his tongue running over his wicked fangs.
“Sit.” He pats his thigh.
You do, falling into the god’s lap. His arm immediately wraps around your waist. You hold your breath steady as if you tread black water, afraid of sinking into his abysmal mass.
“I have come here to make you a most beautiful proposal.” His upper right arm finds your hair, cut short with an undershave, and strokes the scars over the back of your neck. It takes all your being to not shudder.
Your eyes flash to his in the darkness.
He grins wickedly and snarls softly, “Become my champion.”
Your lips part, eyes widening.
“Oh, I know,” he chuckles ruefully, “Sun and Moon think they can keep you all to themselves. But you don’t have to be tethered to them, dragged into their apathetic schemes. No, I will show you what a true champion deserves.”
You hold horrible still as his claws softly scrape over your hip bone. His eyes fall to your lower back side, where your chilton conceals the gods’ marking upon you.
“And you would not have to tell them you have chosen another,” he says, his eye half-lidded. “You need only to say you have accepted their proposal. Then you will watch them, study them, and tell me what you have found. What do they lack? Where do they stumble?”
You wish so horribly to speak but if an astral being commands you, you must obey. Your teeth grind softly together.
“Do this,” he lowers himself to your ear. His glinting teeth graze the shell of it, and you clench your fists, “and I will free you. I will adore you eternally.”
You hold yourself rigid under the god’s offer. That may be the ultimate demise. If you taunted Sun and Moon and betrayed them to another, how would they obliterate you? Your very being could be scattered to the cosmos like stardust.
But Eclipse offers you something more.
“You may speak,” he says and draws a clawed hand down your thigh. He clutches you close. His one eye admires you as if you were a golden crown.
Your mouth is dry. Wetting your tongue, you face the astral being as if he draws in the very light of the world into him. Nothing can escape, not even you.
“Do I have your sworn oath that no harm will come upon me should I agree to such a plot?”
His single burning eye glimmers.
“Yes.” His hands tighten around you. “I give it now, pledging myself to you, gladiator. We will be equals. Though you will be consort in name, you hold the power of a god at your disposal when you accept my hand.”
You hold your breath. A god’s oath is too powerful, and unbreakable, even by their strengths.
You could soon be free.
“I will give you the night to reach a decision.” Eclipse slides you off of his lap as if you were only a feather. He sets you sweetly back on the thin cushion of your couch. “By morning, when you return to Sun and Moon, I will have your answer. Don’t keep me waiting.”
Twisting smoke envelopes him. Again, the thick haze of his traveling form slips under the door, and you are left in the dark without his crackling orange light.
You don’t move. Your fate is in your hands, and you must choose.
#naff's writing commissions#gladiator!reader#god!sun#god!moon#god!eclipse#love the dynamics and this y/n has the experience to handle what may come#but at what cost?#naff writing
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Hi! I was wondering if you could write another part for Otter creator! Like maybe them with Furina and Neuvillette having a tea party or something! (Possibly Wriothesley[?]!!), and they start realising more! (If Wriothesley’s there he should be oblivious for a bit!)
The Otter Chronicles Pt. 1
♡︎ « Next Part ⋙
૮꒰˶ᵔ ᗜ ᵔ˶꒱ა Pairings : GN! Otter Reader x Fontaine
૮꒰ྀི∩´ ᵕ `∩꒱ྀིა W.K. : 1.3k
໒꒰ྀིᵔ ᵕ ᵔ ꒱ྀི১ Tags/CW&TW : Fluff, yandere-ish behavior (really straining the term here), itty bitty bit of angst
“Tea party, hooray!” It was easy to see that Furina was excited.
Because today was the day for your first REAL tea party. Not just locked in a room with her for a day.
And yes you meant a literal day. Like a whole ass day.
Anyway-
Her and Neuvillette were going to FINALLY take you to meet Wriothesley! Yay! It was just a date to take about some royal officiant bullshit you couldn’t bring yourself to care about, but as per usual, they refused to take you out of their sights.
So here you were, getting all dolled up in Lady Furina’s lap. A new bow tie, a fancier hat, and somehow Otter friendly makeup.
Where they found it? You don’t know. Did they make it? You’re 99.9% sure they had it commissioned. Do you look good with cate eye eyeliner? Hell yes.
You were now being carried in the Otter Pack™️ (a rather large and plush satchel that Neuvillette carried around, filled with lush blankets and pillows and only the FINEST toys for you to play with) with your head sticking out of the top, your fur freshly combed and oiled. Neuvillette’s fingers curled through what wasn’t covered by the hat.
Hell, you even had on some adorable golden and lapis embedded clip on earrings - they wouldn’t dare pierce your ears for fear of hurting you and damaging your hearing.
People cooed at you in your Otter Pack™️ and you sucked that shit up, you were basically drowning in sparkles!~ All the while Furina and Neuvillette spoke above you.
“Are we sure we should bring mon preux chevalier? I mean, naturally we should share their beauty with the world but… in a place filled with criminals..?” Furina spoke in a hushed tone, not wanting you to hear her.
“I understand my Lady, but there is no one to trust to take care of them. Who will give them their favorite treats? Shine their coat? Scratch their tummy? No can do it the way we can, Lady Furina. Besides, we are here for only a Tea Party, it should only last around two hours with the matter we must discuss. Three hours at the latest.” Neuvillette replied. Though in truth, he had just as many issues with the whole situation.
It truly was a shame no one was as capable to take care of their darling Otter as them. *Dramatic sigh in French*
Arriving at the entrance to the Fortress of Meropide, the duo were ushered inside and directly into Wriothesley’s office.
“Lady Furina! Monsieur Neuvillette! How nice it is to have you in humble prison. Please, follow me.” Wriothesley smoothly opened the conversation, leading the duo to his tea table. Finally, he noticed the Otter Pack™️.
“*Ahem* I see we have a… guest?” Wriothesley mused. See he hadn’t been on the surface for a bit, and news travels slow beneath the waves, so had had no clue of the big hydro duo’s new friend.
“Yea. This is Le superviseur officiel du jury du palais de justice de Fontaine. La Loutre de l'Opéra Eclipse*.” Neuvillette responded curtly. You chittered happily at the title you had just been given as off the last trial held. And Wriothesley only sweated at the long title.
“I… see. Anyway, if we are ready to begin…” And with that you stopped listening.
You had been here for barely a few minutes and you were already bored. See, usually with Furina, something would be happening. Something spectacular! Or intriguing! Never had you seen her in such a… boring environment. Hell, you could tell she was bored but you supposed that being an Archon came with other bullshit jobs other than being pretty and revered.
You hopped out of the Otter Pack™️ and snuggled up in Neuvillette’s lap, and noticed the extra teacup in front of you. Chittering, you sniffed and licked at it, then curled up once more.
You were trying to hide your boredom, but seemed to be failing as you felt Neuvillette’s fingers comb through the fur on your back. You basically purred at the affection, before sighing. Furina turned to you and called out to you.
“Mon ange? Are you bored? Well I, Furina, have just the cure!~” She said in a sing-songy tune. After, she waved her hand and in a puff of hydro, Gentilhomme Usher, Surintendante Chevalmarin and Mademoiselle Crabaletta were summoned.
You jumped up, messing up your hat and allowing Neuvillette to fix it, before the four of you jumped up to play. The three swam around you in the air while you followed quickly on the floor, causing the three to laugh. Though, Neuvillette noticed something.
Now, already he and Furina noticed you were smarter than other Otters, being able to understand human speech. You could solve puzzles, and once you had even helped solve a rather hard case! But this was… something else.
Gentilhomme Usher, Surintendante Chevalmarin and Mademoiselle Crabaletta and even Singer of Many Waters could speak… kind of. They had their own little babbly language that only Furina could only understand sometimes, and even then it was rocky. That’s why they mostly acted out their wants and needs with over the top gestures… but you.
An otter.
Could understand them perfectly.
You weren’t the only otter they had been summoned around, but then those otter would run away or stay around in curiosity.
But you could understand everything.
You could understand what a god couldn’t.
And that’s when something inside the Dragon Sovereign clicked.
He had been an avid follower of The Creator. The one Above all. Listening gently to all their false promises of bringing his brethren back. If fixing this world of its problems. He would watch as they only cared for themselves. As they punished anyone who went against them. Punished the innocent. As they lavished in the foods and clothes and jewels bestowed upon them by their followers.
Yet the flowers wouldn’t bloom in their presence. The wind wouldn’t blow gently through their hair. The ground and earth wouldn’t stop its quakes. The water would calm its waves. The lightning wouldn’t slow its descent. The fires wouldn’t lower their flames. The ice wouldn’t smooth over and slow the snow.
In fact, flowers would wilt when around them. The wind would whip into windstorms and the earth would rumble with ferocity. Water would rise to heights uncharted and lightning would strike behind their heels. Flame would rise higher and higher and fill the air with ash and snow would turn to hail, ice turning to sharp points around them.
It was the opposite with their darling Otter. He knew something was… not quite right with them. They always had this feel about them.
The melusine would act weirdly about them. Giving them wider smiles and now that he was thinking about it truly… they seemed to always know what they wanted. Even the Clockwork Meka would bow in their presence. When they swam it was always as though the current would work with them, and fish and other creatures of the sea would always surround them, following behind them… almost like…
A veil.
A veil that matched the one their creator always had on in every art of them.
On any statue.
In any painting.
In any description in every book.
They always had a veil.
And glancing at their beloved otter?
Their blue tuff of fur? They lined their back? Combined with the flowing fabrics of their top hat?
Created a veil.
“Excuse me Wriothesley, me Lady Furina must go discuss something. Please keep an eye on ma moitié for us please.” Neuvillette spoke quickly, gently gripping Furina’s arm as she protested, and they both left the room.
You and the three summons looked at the closing office door, then at Wriothesley. He stared back.
“Uhm… hello there, little otter.”
You only chittered in response.
And as Neuvillette and Furina rounded a corner, the Sovereign pressed a hand to her complaining lips.
“My Lady, firstly, my sincerest apologies for dragging you out here. Secondly, I believe I have made a… shocking discovery about our ˈbābē…” Neuvillette’s voice was hushed, making Furina nervous.
“What.. what do you think you found..?” She asked.
“I believe… our darling Otter… is the true Creator…”
໒꒰ྀི˶˙Ⱉ˙˶꒱ྀིა Author’s note : Hehehehe… How will Furina react to this knowledge? What with Neuvillette do with this information? And will Wriothesley ever get over seeing an Otter so close to his Archon? Tune in next week to find out!~
Anyway, I love this and where it’s going! I haven’t had to write any angst and I feel it coming now! Hehehe ૮ ˶´ ᵕˋ ˶ა
* The official Jury Supervisor of the Courthouse of Fontaine . The Otter of the Opera Eclipse
#genshin impact sagau#sagau x reader#sagau#x reader#x gn reader#gn y/n#yandere x reader#yandere x you#Otter!Creator#anon <3#asks <3
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3, 2, 1 - Part 3 of 3 (Smut)
3, 2, 1 Navigation here, main Masterlist here.
Word Count: 6,376
First time writing smut for Sanji. Look at him, isn't he just the sweetest?
Warnings: Smut, p in v, afab!reader, without plot (plot in former 2 chapters for context), minors do not read - this is not for you, eating, sex, mutual pining, longing, love, friends to lovers, flirtatious!reader, Sanji is not the problem - the reader is. Sanji brings a bit of desperate 'sub' energy.
Would like to thank the creator of this playlist, but particularly "love me harder" and "what it is" were the two that drove this one.
The sink was filled to the brim with warm, soapy water; the fragrance of citrus and eucalyptus filling the air as you busied yourself cleaning dishes and the benchtops of the small suite Nami managed to acquire for you.
Thinking you needed to produce a case, and preparing yourself to strong-arm your captain to have you remain in town for more than two days, it took little to no effort to plead with him that Sanji needed time to rid himself of his withdrawal symptoms.
“Captain, if I may seek to implore-,” you began, only to have the captain halt your words.
“-I don’t get all those fancy words,” he shrugged with a broad smile, “but if you’re asking for us to stay here a bit longer to have Sanji get better, that sounds good enough to me.”
You dove your hands deep into the water, wincing slightly at the elevated temperature before retrieving a bowl from beneath the surface. Running a damp sponge around the surface to rid the ceramic dish from any remnants of the bone broth you made for Sanji, you placed it upside down on the wire rack beside the sink to air-dry.
As you began to dive your hands below the water once more, you felt two forearms lace themselves around your shoulders and a warm chin and cheek nuzzle against the left-hand side of your neck. You released a breathy sigh and shut your eyes as you felt the body behind you relax itself into you, clasping your shoulders and upper arms within his firm grip to cage you against him.
“Awake at last, handsome,” you addressed him, lulling your head backwards to nestle against his messy, blonde hair, “how did you sleep?”
“As well as can be expected,” he muttered against your shoulder, pressing his lips in a gentle kiss against the exposed flesh of your collar. You could feel how warm his face was, indicating he may not yet be well enough to engage in frivolous activities with you as the nicotine-dependency was still fleeing from his bloodstream.
“Sanji,” you groaned in a warning tone, “you’re still fighting the fever.”
He hummed against you in response, opening his mouth to suck at your exposed neck; your eyes fluttering open in response. You brushed your arms on the hanging hand towel below the sink to rid the suds from your hands, drying your clean hands against the plush material.
“Sanji,” you again reprimanded him in your tone, “get back into bed.”
His tongue darted out to flick over the tender area he formerly relentlessly attacked with open mouthed kisses. A groan fled from your lips at his ministrations, brows creasing together as you mentally fought with yourself to hold back your response to his shameless caress.
“Bed-,” you ordered him, bringing your arms up to break his grip from around your shoulders, “-now.”
“Only if you join me,” he smirked against your neck. You turned in his arms, placing your hands against his hips and attempting to nudge his body away from your own, “and I think I’m all done with the fever. I feel fine.”
Your frown deepened against your brows as you looked up into the eyes of your blond crewman; half-lidded, glazed and playful eclipsing the illness lingering below. He was clad in pale, grey sleeping slacks and neglected to equip his chest with a shirt upon his exit from the bedroom. His drowsy and charming smile clung to his lips as he gazed into your eyes baring nothing but adoration into your orbs.
“You need your rest,” you scolded him, nose reaching up to brush against his own, “I still think you’re not well. It takes anywhere between three to ten days for the dependency to be completely rid from your body; and we’re now only just falling in the third.”
“You’re saying,” he angled his chin downwards and looked up at your face through his eyelashes, “you’re going to have me wait another seven whole days before you’ll kiss me?”
Your brows rose from their scolding expression to arching your left brow up in confusion, “Honey, I’m just waiting for you to be rid of this fever before I get to make you sweat.”
A broad smile fell over your lips as you relished in the tint pooling the cheeks, tip of the nose and ears of the man in front of you. His eyes were wide, jaw slack and his breath hitched as it caught within his throat; prompting his Adams apple to bob as he processed your words.
“And now that you’re all flustered, I’m not going to be able to get an adequate reading from the thermometer to see just how much longer we’ll need to wait,” you shook your head, clicking your tongue at him in a chastising manner. His blush deepened as he turned his face away from you to hide his shame from you.
Chasing his retreating cheek with your palm, you brought his gaze back to your own with a small shake of your head again. You smoothed your hand over his cheek in a gentle caress before dancing your fingertips to his forehead to check over his brow for a rise in temperature and the gathering of sweat. You felt the heat remaining against his forehead, a reminder that the battle was not yet over with his fight against nicotine addiction and truly ridding the chemical from his body; while contemplating whether the elevation was from the flush of desire you withdrew from him.
“Now get back to bed,” you shooed him, drawing your hand back from his forehead and falling it against his chest with a gentle shove.
“Embrasse-moi,” he whispered, leaning his head downwards with his eyes falling closed. (Kiss me).
“Not yet,” you push again on his chest to have his body fall away from you. He whined, a pout falling to form against his lips.
“Juste un petit bisou?” he asked you with a shaken breath, a small whimper pulling within his throat. (Just a small kiss?).
“Sanji-,” you groaned at him, collecting his chin in your hand to angle his gaze into your own eyes. You floated your gaze between his two grey orbs, briefly falling to his lips before rising them back upwards again.
“Oui, mon cheri?” he teased you with his tone, stooping lower as your firm forearm began to slip and fall under the spell his mother-tongue was holding over you. He arched his chest into your hand, your forearm bent back to collapse in of itself against your own. He tightened his arms around your shoulders and drew himself closer to you, cradling you against his broad chest.
“If I promise to give you a small kiss and tuck you in,” you whispered, yourself looking away from his gaze now, “will you please try to rest?”
A small raspy growl fled from his throat as he reluctantly halted his advance of you.
“Do we need to set the timer for the small kiss?” he asked, his voice almost seeming small and desperate in his question. You giggled in response, falling your hand from his chest and unlacing yourself from within his arms. Reaching up to clasp his fingertips within your own, you rubbed your thumbs over his knuckles to sooth him.
“I’ll do you one better,” you smiled at him, “it’s nearly the evening. I’ll finish the washing up and I’ll come and join you.”
His eyes brightened; the hope from his romantic soul spilling from the crevasses of his heart depicted through his beautiful expression. His lips curled into a warm smile, a small sigh falling from his nose as he slouched his posture against your leading hands.
“You’ll sleep with me?” he cooed at you with his eyes glittering with hopefulness, “instead of the couch?”
Over the past two nights, you had opted to sleep on the couch to give Sanji the space he needed to rid himself of his withdrawal symptoms. He desired to have you warm his bed beside him, but you advised him of how his waking and sleeping hours would differ as he fought the fever. You first opted to sleep on the floor, before deciding to sleep in the next room over to best support him from afar. The crew had also splashed out their berry to purchase rooms in other inns to better ready themselves for future travel, leaving you being the sole carer for Sanji’s physical and mental wellbeing as he navigated the illness.
“I’ll lie with you until you fall asleep,” you nodded at him, walking hand in hand towards the single bedroom, “and then I’ll return to the couch to sleep alone, just so you can have the space to-.”
“-please,” his words halted your steps, prompting you to turn towards him, “please, I’ll behave.”
You felt your heart soar at his words, warmth spreading to your chest and rise to your cheeks. His head hung lowly, shoulders slouching further in the vanquishment of his prior playful expression.
“My love,” you began, stepping your body closer to him, “it’s not you I’m worried about misbehaving. Again-,” you released his left hand with your right and brought it to cup his chin and jaw, “-you need to get completely well again first. I want you returned to your prime.”
You brought your lips up to graze his cheek, almost gracing his clean-shaven cheek with a kiss as you drew it towards his ear; “you’ll need to be for what I have planned for you. I want you writhing,” your lips caressed the lobe of his ear, “I want you breathless,” your tongue flicked the shell of his helix, feeling his breath hitch in his throat again.
“I want you gasping for air beneath me; groaning for me, pleading for me,” you bore your teeth, collecting the corner of his jaw in a small nip; “it’s not you that’s the problem, love, it’s me.”
His breath caught further as he seemed to hold it within his chest as he processed what you were explaining to him.
“Honey, I want you reciting my name as your personal mantra, writhing and fanatical,” your lips ghosted his stubbled jaw, teeth grazing the flesh, “praying for me to grant you your release as I finally get to your pretty coc-.”
His lips fell against your own, his body caging you against the wall before you managed to make it to the bedroom to tuck him in. Your squeak of shock fell from you at his dominance, his strong arms releasing your hands from within his palms as he wove them into your hair. A feral groan fell from his lips as he levered his pelvis against yours to pin you in place as his hands roamed your body: first falling to cradle your neck within his palms. As his hands travelled lower, grazing briefly the curvature of your breasts, his lips fled from their place against your own down to your chin and lower still to your neck.
His fingertips traced the hemline of your pants, giving a gentle tug with a breathy whimper against your neck.
“Please,” he begged in a gruff and breathless moan against your sensitive flesh, “I’m better, I promise. I need you.”
Wrapping his left arm around your waist, he continued to trace your lower abdomen with his fingertips. You sighed, bringing your arms to circle his neck; lacing your fingers within his hair as he pleaded with you further. Uttering promises of clarity and begging to give into your desires falling from his lips, you tugged his hair back to arch his neck backwards to have him look into your eyes. His breath caught in his throat, hanging onto his next moment like a dying man approaching the gallows.
“You need your rest,” you whispered, gazing into his blown out pupils; dilated with lust and desire.
“I just need you,” he confessed in a similar breathy tone to your own. You both hung in pregnant silence, pants of desire falling from both of you as you gazed into each other’s eyes.
“Do you feel in control? Fully yourself?” you asked him, air of seriousness and concern falling from you.
“I do,” he admitted with a small nod, eyelids flittering at your thoughtfulness, “I’ll do the washing up in the morning if it means I can have you in my arms that much sooner.” He constricted his pelvis into your own further, earning an unwithheld moan in response to his grind against your core. He continued to hold you gaze, eyes darkening further at your vocal expression.
“Sanji,” you gasped his name in a desperate whisper, prompting him to surge himself forward to launch into a tirade of frantic and heated kisses pressed feverishly into your cheeks, lips and neck.
Each desperate kiss, every heated exchange, and stolen caress expressed between the two of you over this past week washed over your memory as Sanji continued his diatribe of possessiveness against your face, skin and body. His hands moved on muscle memory alone, clutching at you as if you were a cold glass of water dripping with condensation to quench and satisfy his thirsting lust for you.
Your lips parted as another gasp fell from between you as he stole your very breath with his lips returning to meet with yours. Where once his lips held the nicotine induced fragrance and flavour of cigarettes, you found only the taste of spearmint toothpaste in its wake. You giggled at the thought, noting he must have prepared himself to hold you true to your prior promise of entanglement once he shook the fever from his body.
Tilting your head, you chased his jaw with your chin to push his body away from your own. A stifled, confused groan fled from his lips as you broke from his kiss; only to have his confusion obscured by joy at you taking him by the wrist to return him to the bedroom. You effortlessly turned him as his thighs knocked their backs against the firm mattress, his knees buckling beneath him as you pushed him by his chest to lie back against the bed.
Bringing your right knee upwards, you knelt beside his left hip as you brought yourself down to grasp his jaw. His hands fell to the backs of your thighs, groaning against your lips as you traced your right hand down his chest while anchoring yourself against the bed by your left hand. He hoisted your left thigh upwards to collect your entire weight arching flush against his pelvis.
He shuddered beneath your touch, your fingers gently tracing circles against his pectorals down to lay against his stomach. Trailing his hands upwards, he collected your ass within his broad hands and began to kneed the flesh, raking his fingertips against your hips and thighs as he guided you to rock and grind your clothed core against his hardening cock beneath his loose pants. His fingertips once again found the hemline to your own pants and began dipping beneath the material to test your boundaries.
In response, you backed completely away from him to sit upright on his lap. His eyes widened in panic at your retreat, his hands falling to your lower back to keep you pressed into his crotch as his breath quickened in pace.
“So desperate,” you chastised him with a smirk, “I’m not going anywhere, don’t you worry your pretty head.”
You giggled, reaching your arms down to collect the base of your shirt and pulling the material over your head and arms. He audibly breathed a sigh of relief and crashed his back against the quilted duvet of the bed as he watched your every movement. Although you remained covered by your bustier, you felt completely exposed beneath his piercing gaze as he raked his sights over your flesh. His jaw fell slack as a groan fled from his quivering lips; you biting your own lip in response and bringing your forearms up to shield yourself from his examining eyes.
“Stop gawking at me like that,” you chastised him, your right arm folding over your chest while your left hand ventured down to your thigh to cover your torso from his view.
“Gawking?” he immediately he sat upwards and collected your wrists within his firm grasp and brought his chin to your own to nudge your face upwards, “admirant, mon cheri. Admiring.”
His right hand ventured to your back, pinching the clasp between his thumb and forefinger; forcing the elastic to release the metal from its intertwined and locking state to spring your breasts from their bounds. You released a shocked giggle at his overzealousness, his face falling to your clavicle and pressing a small kiss against your collar bone.
“Can I admire more of you?” he asked, fingertips trailing to the straps of your bustier and teasing the straps atop your shoulders. You smiled and gave him a shy nod, his hands immediately dragging your straps down your upper arms. His palms were pressed against your skin, the heat from them radiating below against your flesh.
Holding his face still flush against your shoulder, you unwove your arms from the fabric to completely expose your torso to him. He pressed his forehead against your shoulder, his breath hitching in his throat as he memory-mapped the curvature of your breasts within his mind. Tossing the fabric beside the bed, his shaking hands ventured upwards to begin to mould, grasp and hold your breasts. His fingertips cradled the underside of your left breast as his thumb held you steady atop the mounds of your chest.
“Sanji?” you tilted your head down to watch his face as you addressed him, noting his eyes were completely fixated on your chest, “are you okay, love?”
Humming in response, he gave a reactionary squeeze of your breast to test the feeling beneath his palms. His tongue darted out to coat his drying lips with a thin layer of saliva, his mouth dry from his slackened jaw as he gawked at your breasts. He ran his thumb over your peaked nipple, your breath halting in your throat with a sharp inhale; his eyes fleeing from the flesh to seek out your own wide and surprised orbs.
“So beautiful, my love,” he praised you, flicking the stiff peak once more; another sound falling from your lips in response, “so sensitive.”
In response, you pushed on his torso to fall him back against the plush quilt; remaining sat above him and completely exposed to his wide eyes; glazing over completely as he witnessed the small bobble in your supple breasts.
“You’re meant to be the one left breathless, honey,” you smirked at him, lacing your right leg between his thighs and stooping down to toy with the hem of his pants. He gasped in response, his shoulders slumping against the duvet while his eyes remained fixated and fleeting between all of the many wonderful gifts you were presenting to him.
Your breasts, your hands, your words; it was almost too much for the blonde chef to handle.
“May I?” you asked him, gesturing with your eyes and nudging your chin to his pants.
“-Please,” he whimpered, his cock forming a large tent within his loose trousers. You giggled, tracing the outside of his shaft while toying with the drawstring hemline hanging loosely from his hips.
“I like it when you beg,” you confessed with an arched brow, “probably why I enjoyed our little game so much,” you giggled before you crouched lower onto your elbows; “do it again.”
His eyes widened further, his lip trembling and teeth chattering in anticipation.
“P-please,” he whined, hands reaching to stroke your upper arms in encouragement, “please, I need you. Please. Please.”
Your heart raced further at his pleading, lips parting and eyes harbouring a feral and predatory air as you began slowly inching his pants over the bones of his hips to reveal a small trail of short, blonde hair downwards towards the base of his shaft.
“Lift your hips, darling,” you ordered him, to which he immediately followed enthusiastically beneath you. Pulling the material over the curvature of his ass, you slowly raked the draw-stringed front of his pants over his cock; immediately slapping his abdomen with the tip before it stood alert and ready to receive further orders.
“Sanji,” you gasped at the sight, taking in each vein with absolute wonderment; his tip shiny with the amount of blood pooling to it, a small bead of pearly pre-cum spilling from his slit. You thumbed the drop with the pad of your digit and immediately brought it to your mouth. His eyes drew wide as you swirled your tongue around your fingertip to collect it, jaw slack further.
“W-what are you doing?” he asked you in a small whimpered breath.
“It’s like what you’re always saying. What was it again?” you brought your head over to his cock, circling the base with your index finger and thumb while placing your palm flush against his balls and holding it against his abdomen; “we don’t waste food?”
Slowly inching yourself forward, you collected the reddened and throbbing tip within your lips; flattening your tongue to the underside of his pretty cock to caress the frenulum with your pliant muscle. A squeaking whimper fled from his lips before he drew his right hand against his teeth, biting down to stifle his moans while his left hand scrunched the quilted duvet within his fist.
You sucked against his shaft, opening your throat to gulp more of his cock within the warm chasms to swallow down to the base; your nose brushing against your index finger as you took him completely into your mouth. Your throat began to contract and constrict as your lungs screamed to receive more air into them. The only hold over your inability to balloon your lungs is the complete fixation you had on the writhing and whimpering mess you were making of the man below you.
The sounds pouring from his lips as he continued to bite down against his hand to stifle the moans freely falling was the most exhilarating symphony to grace your ears. Everything about Sanji was beautiful; his eyes, his hair, his body, his cock, and the vocal projections you were syphoning from his throat.
You eased up as your vision became spotted, opting to swirl your tongue against the tip before bobbing slowly against his cock. You snuck a glance at him, noticing the deep furrow of his brows as he attempted to keep his gaze held against your own. His eyelids would flitter shut as he panted with the rhythm you set against grinding your mouth down his shaft and upwards to the tip.
The slick pooling against your underwear in empathetic pleasure was enough to drive your passionate advances against the chef with further fervour. You arched your back downwards, flipping your hair over your shoulder with your left hand to give Sanji a better angle to witness as his eyes reopened to watch your actions once more.
“P-Please,” he struggled against his own words to successfully articulate his desires, “please I need you. I need you so much. Please let me see you. Let me make love to you. L-let me bury myself into you. I can’t h-hold on, please-.”
His eyes were wide and frantic as he gyrated his hips, thrusting upward to meet your pace with breathy pants falling from his lips.
“Please,” he again implored as his movements betrayed him, “not like this, not like this.”
Although he was speaking those words aloud, you noticed it was not directed to you; but rather himself. As you made to pull away from his cock, you noticed the stammered and frantic thrusts and the twitch of his balls against his abdomen indicated he was too far gone to simply stop. Opting rather than to ruin his orgasm, you held the same matched pace to his thrusts as he thrust into your mouth from below you.
“I-I’m gonna, I can’t s-stop,” he sobbed, his breath hitching and right hand falling away from his lips to draw itself to your cheek. He made eye contact with you, losing more of himself within the thralls of passion as he noticed your playful glint within your eye as you took more of him into your mouth.
“P-please, can I-, I can’t-, I’m gonna-,” he stammered, chasing his high as he rutted into your face. His balls tightening to lay completely flush against his stomach as his pretty cock began to twitch in pleasure; the tip swollen and shiny within your mouth. You swirled the tip with your tongue once more; prompting a string of a mixture of French and English to exit his mouth as he shot ribbons of hot cum down your throat: “baiser, fuck, a-ah dieux-oh g-gods, th-thank you-thank you-u-thank y-you, m-merci, f-fuck-k.”
You noticed his panting breath, furrowed brow hidden beneath the blonde shield of his hair as he continued to gawk at you. His hips began to stammer as he rode out his strong orgasm against your face, his hand remaining cradled against your cheek and jaw as he did so. He threw his head back against the sheets, unlaced his scrunched hand against the bed sheets as you pulled away from his slowly flaccid cock as his cum was completely swallowed within your throat.
“I’m s-sorry,” he whispered, eyes shut as he drew his hands up to cover his eyes to shield himself further from your gaze.
“Hey,” you said, brows furrowing as you fell your body next to his, “look at me.”
He peered out from behind his hands, still remaining them shielding his flushed face from your own; “it wasn’t meant to be like that. I-I wanted to-.”
“-Again, it’s mostly my fault,” you giggled at him, pressing a small kiss against his knuckles, “I have been tormenting you for a little while now.”
Sanji groaned from behind his hands, his voice remaining muffled as he spoke words you couldn’t quite comprehend behind his palms.
“What was that, honey?” you asked him, tracing his fingertips against your own as you pressed feather-light kisses against his forearms; smiling against his muscles as he willed himself the courage to face you.
“I wanted to worship you,” he whispered, bringing his palm to your cheek and caressing your smiling lips. You pressed a kiss against his thumb as he traced your bottom lip with it.
“And I wanted you a writhing, begging mess beneath me,” you shrugged, your gaze focussing on his eyes while floating down to his lips, “and I assure you: I enjoyed every moment of the mess, down to the last second.”
He sighed with a small smile returning to his face. Smoothing over your hair, he tucked a strand behind your ear before trailing his index finger down towards your collar bone. He danced his finger downwards to trace over your breasts, travelling over the curve before ghosting over your peaked nipple before travelling it to your diaphragm with a small moan falling from between the both of you.
“Can I enjoy you now?” he asked you, fingers continuing to travel lower to toy with your hemline once more. You shivered against his touch, the quivering fingers nervously toying with your skin and dipping below the band of your pants.
“In what capacity?” you whispered with a small, warm smile falling to your lips.
“Just a taste,” he drew his face towards you, tracing your cheeks with his lips as he zeroed in on making first contact with a gentle kiss against your parted mouth.
Groaning against your lips, his pierced tongue darted out to softly caress your own; tasting his prior release over your palate. You drew your hand up to cradle his jaw within your hands as his fingertips dipped lower towards your core, alight and warmth with desire.
He rolled above you, his left hand caging you in beside your head as he drew his hand below your underwear and traced the outside of your crotch before dipping his fingertips against your glistening folds. Your muffled moan fell within his lips; your breath being claimed by the man above you once more as he circled around your sensitive clit before retracting his fingers entirely. He drew his face away from your own, a whine escaping your lips as you witnessed him placing his index and middle finger between his parted lips; tasting the collected arousal pooling from your desperate entrance.
Your breath hitched in your throat as you witnessed him taste your desire for him on his warm fingers, a breathy groan escaping him in satisfaction before he completely pulled himself away from your body. He drew himself backwards, kneeling between your thighs and pulling your pants and undergarments down over your hips; raising your legs vertically to pull them over your feet and discard them to pool on the floor beside your brasier. Tracing his fingertips over your ankles, he began to slowly drag them downwards to follow behind your calves.
Once he reached your knees, he opened your legs and drew his lips forward to place gentle and soft kisses against the inner skin of your left thigh. While holding your left knee within his firm hand and circling his tongue out to kiss your thigh deeper, his left hand continued to trail down to fall against the outer skin of your groin with his palm pressed flush against your glistening opening.
Spinning his expert hands, he pressed his palm upwards to keep the pressure against your throbbing clit as he teased your destitute opening with his index and middle fingers. Smiling against your thigh as you inhaled a whimpering sound through your teeth; he began scissoring his fingertips against your hole while driving the hard pressure against your clit had your mind fuzzy.
Continuing to trail kisses further up to kneel before you, he pulled his palm away and sighed at the sight laying before him. Without a further utterance falling from his lips, he dove himself forward and began flickering, licking flattened stripes against your slickened core with his talented and pierced tongue. A shriek left your lips as he suctioned his lips around your sensitive clit, his fingers returning to tease your entrance; testing your core by inching the tip of his middle finger thrust into you.
“S-Sanji,” you gasped while falling your head down against the plush quilt, his lips falling into a wide smile clasped around your sensitive bundle; his tongue swirling and flattening as he began to find an appropriate rhythm with his lips. He slowly began inching his fingers against your opening, the coolness of his metal ring adding to the sensation as he arched and hooked his fingers to find the underside of your clit as he stimulated it from above with his tongue.
He groaned against your glistening entrance, unclasping his lips from your clit and opting to drive his flattened tongue against it while inserting his second digit, stretching you with his expert fingers twitching within you. Arching your head up, you reached down and laced your fingers into his blonde hair; cradling his head against your core as you rode his face. He continued to swirl, consuming your pleasure within his hungry mouth as you felt the familiar coiling sensation of release forming within your abdomen. Your toes began to tingle as he beckoned your release with his two fingers curling against your inner walls, taunting you with his talented tongue.
You raked your eyes hungrily over his body, noticing his hips began rutting themselves needily against the mattress below his regrowing and desperately throbbing cock. Breaking away your chase, you allowed a small giggle to fall from your lips; prompting Sanji to halt his actions to look up at you with his brows furrowed into a puzzled expression.
“My darling,” you whispered while drawing his face away from your glistening core, “if you’re so desperate to bury your pretty cock into something, I have something better than the mattress.”
His face flushed with embarrassment, his eyes widening before attempting to look away from your teasing eyes.
“I was trying to make you feel good,” he whispered, your palm and forefingers ushering his eyes to fall back against your own.
“You were,” you smiled at him before taking your bottom lip between your teeth, “and you will again when you come up here.” You beckoned him with your unoccupied hand to ushed his torso closer to you.
Hitching his breath against your suggestion, you pulled him by his jaw to lean his body forward as he crawled to cage you beneath him. He slowly eased his hands below your shoulders to have you circle your arms around his broad shoulders, his stiffened cock quivering in anticipation as it raked along your thighs to position itself against your soaked opening.
“A-Are you sure?” he whispered, his lips brushing with the outer corner of your own as he allowed you one final moment to deny his advance. You smiled, turning your face to collect his lips with your own in a slow and open mouthed kiss, tasting yourself against his tongue. You laced your legs behind him over his hips, hooking your ankles within each other as you urged his powerful thrust closer to you.
“Yes,” you breathed out against his lips, his heartbeat rushing within his chest; thumping so loud you could feel its rapidity against your breasts, “Sanji, please fuck me.”
He halted his descent, pulling himself away from your lips and stared deeply into your eyes with his brows falling to a deep frown.
“I could never simply fuck you,” he urged you, swiping his nose against your own in a gentle brush of affection, “but I will show you how much I love you.”
Your breath caught in your throat as he urged his tip slowly into you, a mutual groan of satisfaction fleeing from both your lips as he continued to press further and further into you. your walls stretching comfortably to accommodate more of his shaft before he completely bottomed out, his groin pressing flush against your own as he whimpered in desperation and pleasure.
“You’re so good, Sanji,” you praised him with a small gasp, “you fill me so well, like you were made for me.”
He cried against your shoulder, pressing his lips against your collarbone as he rocked his hips against your own in small thrusts to keep all of his stiff cock sheathed completely within your warm entrance. You felt the similar build, a continuation of his skilful ministrations returning to your abdomen as he began to rhythmically chase your dual pleasure with his thrusts and gyrations deep within your glistening walls.
His body caged you, you feeling completely secure beneath him as he seemed to sob in joy of finally being joined against you as your hearts began to beat within the same rapidity and frequency. You laced your fingers in his hair as he began to drive his hips forward with heavier and frantic rapidity. Cock twitching within your walls, prompting your opening to flutter around him, you withdrew his head from your shoulder and pressed your lips against his in a desperate kiss.
“S-Sanji,” you cried his name, toes curling from their position laced at his hips. He drew his head back to gaze into your eyes, pupils blown with lust as his hips began to sloppily stutter against your hips as you both felt the approach of your impending orgasms.
“Are you-,” he gasped out, searching for the words within his mind as he panted against the approaching pleasure, “I-I’m holding on f-for you. Please say you’re ready. Please.”
Uncaging his right hand from beneath your shoulders, he reached down between your bodies to search for your clit. As soon as his fingers traced the sensitive tip of your bundle, your eyes became white with the dancing lights of the arrival of your orgasm.
“Sanji!” his name fled from your lips as the tightly woven coil snapped, the slap of his hips against your inner walls becoming more frantic and deranged as he released your clit to relinquish a secondary release of his own stammering orgasm splashing deep against your cervix. Your own name fled from his lips along with a string of praise and appreciation: “je t'aime tellement, I-I love you. F-fuck. B-baiser. Merde, si beau.”
You both rode your highs, stealing kisses from each other as you allowed a mutual chuckled giggle of relief escape from your lips as you came down to the reality of holding each other close against the plush quilt. Remaining buried within you, he leant back to caress your cheeks between his palms as he admired your glow, eyes full of the relinquishment of lust to fall love within its wake.
“Worth overcoming the nicotine withdrawal and cigarette addiction?” you sighed in question, your own hands coming up to smooth over his hair as you pressed a small kiss to the tip of his nose.
“You are worth far more to me than dependency on nicotine,” he smiled down at you, tickling your forehead with his curtaining hair as it fell against you. You smiled up at him, your eyes closing as you felt him lean his brow down to meet against your own.
Unsheathing himself from within you, he rolled himself to lull beside you while continuing to trace your cheekbones and jaw with small circular caresses. Your eyes fell half-lidded as drowsiness from overexertion fell to you, Sanji’s face mirroring your expression to fall within a similar like.
“Thank you,” he whispered into you, reaching his arm beneath you to cradle you into himself while pulling the duvet to cover the two of you within the comfort of the warm sheets.
“For what, my love?” you asked him, wrapping your arm over his chest and tracing small circles over his back and shoulder blade.
“For everything,” he confessed, resting his chin atop your forehead as you both sighed out your final breath of consciousness before slumber claimed the two of you in its warm embrace.
Tag List:
@writingmysanity, @vespidphoenix (apprehensively)
#one piece#opla#opla fic#one piece live action#x reader#sanji#black leg sanji#vinsmoke sanji x reader#vinsmoke sanji#sanji smut#smut#fluff#sanji fluff
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