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seongwars · 1 month ago

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fate bound | from forget me not

Pairing: king!Jeong Yunho x court lady!Reader AU: non-idol | historical au Summary: Realizing that Yunho's love, no matter how sincere, will never be enough to change your fate, you decide that you cannot spend your life waiting for a love that might never fully be yours. Word Count: 4.2K (I guess it's not really a drabble?) Warnings: angst/no comfort, mentions of death, poisoning, execution, political turmoil, history repeating itself, yunho is dumb in every lifetime

a/n: I was inspired to write this scene after watching the 'the red sleeve' but then cut it from forget me not because it was too long. I figured it faired better as a oneshot but wanted to share it with you all

Forget Me Not Masterlist

"Why do you refuse me?" Yunho’s voice was low, almost pleading, as his fingers gently toyed with a thick lock of your hair.

You hummed softly, your gaze drifting out the window to the expanse beyond the palace walls. The night sky stretched on endlessly, stars twinkling with a freedom you could never claim. As you shuffled closer to him, your hand came to rest on his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heart. You wished, for just a moment, that things could be different—that you could wish for more. More of Yunho’s love, more of his time, more of a life that wasn’t bound by duty.

“I am a bird, Your Majesty," you finally murmured, your words measured. "I was born to roam the skies untethered. But if I stay with you, I will be caged.”

Yunho’s fingers stilled and you felt him tense beneath your hand, his breath hitching in his throat as the truth of your rejection created a rift neither of you had wanted to acknowledge. He tilted his head down, searching your face for answers, for a glimpse of hope as if willing you to reconsider.

"You wouldn’t be caged," he murmured, his hand sliding up to cup the delicate juncture of your jaw. His thumb brushed the curve of your cheekbone, lingering with a tenderness that made you shiver. Yunho’s touch was so gentle, so familiar, yet it carried the weight of a man on the brink of losing everything.

"I would give you everything," he continued, "Anything you want, anything you could dream of—just stay." His eyes, dark and unwavering, locked onto yours, filled with a longing that was impossible to ignore. "By my side."

You shook your head, a bittersweet smile pulling at your lips. "I have no place in your world," you whispered, the words heavy with truth. "You are the king. You have a queen. And I am just another face of the court."

"I don’t care about the crown, or the court," he cut in, the conviction striking through his tender facade. “I care about you.”

The sincerity in his voice should have melted your heart, but instead, it only caused it to ache. You turned your head, refusing to meet his gaze, your eyes drifting toward the floor as if looking anywhere else.

"I care for you more than you’ll ever know, Yunho. But…”

Yunho stood frozen for a moment, the weight of your words sinking into him. His heart clenched, panic flickering behind his eyes as he reached out instinctively, his fingers brushing against your arm, desperate to stop you from pulling further away.

"You are asking me to be something I cannot be," you said quietly, your back still to him. "A concubine? I do not want to lead a lonely life as someone who will always live on the fringes of your court."

You closed your eyes, feeling the warmth of his hand linger on your skin, but the hesitation in his touch told you everything. He didn’t want you to leave, but his actions, his choices, had spoken louder than his words ever could. He was asking you to stay in a world where you would always be second, where you would live in the shadow of his crown, his duty, his queen. And no matter how much he said he cared, no matter how much he wanted you by his side, it would never be enough. You could never be enough—not for the life he led, not for the future he was bound to.

"I cannot spend the rest of my life waiting for a love that might never fully be mine."

⋆

You lay on the cold, hard ground of your prison cell, bruised and broken, your breath shallow in the suffocating silence. You had been framed. It was too perfect a plan, too flawlessly executed to be anything but a scheme crafted by another minister's family—one determined to weaken Yunho’s hold on the throne by any means necessary. Their daughter, they said, was meant to be a concubine, but their ambition reached far beyond that.

Poisoning the queen. Treason. The word itself had echoed through the court like a death sentence. There had been no time to protest, no chance to prove your innocence. The evidence, though fabricated, had been damning, too precise to be questioned. And just as quickly, the sentence had been passed: execution.

You think back to your life before all of this—before the accusations, before the cell. You had come from a family of scholars, where the value of knowledge had been instilled in you from a young age. Your father had risen through the ranks, earning King Minho’s favor with his intellect and wisdom, eventually becoming the Minister of Education. His rise to power had elevated your family, and with that came a life closely tied to the palace.

You spent countless hours within the palace walls, learning how to be a proper lady—a lady fit for court. But behind the formality, there had always been the occasional glimpse of something more. You often caught sight of the young prince, Yunho, moving through the halls with the carefree spirit of someone who had yet to feel the full weight of his royal duties. He was tall even then, always smiling, the future crown not yet a shadow over his life.

But those days felt like a distant dream now, lost to the chaos and schemes that had brought you to this prison. The innocence of the past seemed almost laughable, given how tangled your life had become in the politics of the court.

It started with whispers—soft enough at first to ignore. The Queen had fallen ill, but illness was not uncommon in a palace rife with stress and intrigue. You thought little of it at first, assuming it would pass as other ailments had. But then, the whispers grew louder. The Queen wasn’t recovering. Her condition worsened day by day, and soon, the court began to search for someone to blame.

You never imagined it would be you.

“This was found in your room,” Captain Song Mingi said, holding the small glass vial in his hand. His eyes—once kind, once familiar—were now filled with disgust. There was no mercy in them, only judgment.

You stared at the vial, your heart hammering in your chest, your mind racing. The color drained from your face as panic began to rise. You knew what it was. The poison that was now sitting in the hands of the guards, supposedly discovered in your room.

“No,” you breathed, shaking your head as the full weight of the accusation settled over you like a suffocating blanket. “No, I don’t know how that got there! I swear!”

Your words fell on deaf ears. The guards were already moving, pulling your arms behind your back with brutal efficiency. Your protests were swallowed by the indifferent air of the palace as they forced you to your knees.

“I haven’t done anything!” You were pleading now, your voice shaking as you reached for the captain, only for the guards to step forward, forcing your hands away. “Please, listen to me! Someone put it there!”

It was only then that you realized how thoroughly you had been framed. The poison had been planted in your room. Someone must have placed it there, slipping it in when you left to visit your family, weaving the web that would entangle you and leave you helpless. Someone had outplayed you without you even realizing there was a game.

Your thoughts spiraled as you were dragged through the palace corridors, the weight of the accusations crushing you. The same faces that had once smiled politely at you now averted their eyes, murmuring behind their hands. Some looked at you with pity, but most with thinly veiled disdain. You had gone from a respected lady of the court to a condemned woman in mere moments. The court, so fickle and cruel, had already made its judgment.

And then you saw him—Yunho.

"Your majesty!" you called out, your voice breaking. “Please!”

He stood at the far end of the corridor, his tall frame silhouetted against the soft light pouring in through the windows. His eyes were wide, filled with disbelief as he watched the guards drag you toward the dungeons. For a fleeting moment, your eyes met, and you silently begged him to say something, to stop this madness. But he didn’t.

His silence was louder than any accusation.

In that moment, you realized that the love you shared with Yunho—the bond that had once felt unshakable—meant nothing in the shadow of the crown. He had chosen his duty, the kingdom, over you.

And in doing so, he had chosen to abandon the truth.

Crown Prince Yunho ascended the throne on a spring day, the warmth of the season at odds with the bitter chill weighing down his heart. His father, King Minho, had ruled for over three decades, a formidable monarch whose strength held the kingdom together through years of external threats and internal discord. But illness had claimed him in the end, slowly draining the life from the beloved ruler.

Now, as he sat on the same gilded throne that had once seemed so far from his reach, he realized that he had inherited more than just his father’s crown. He had inherited a kingdom tearing at the seams.

The court had been divided long before Yunho took the throne. His father had managed to keep the peace through sheer force of will, balancing the opposing factions with a mixture of diplomacy and coercion.

However, as illness claimed him in his final years, that delicate balance began to crumble. His once-commanding presence was diminished by weakness, the voice that had once filled the grand hall now strained and frail. The nobles, sensing the king’s grip slipping, grew bolder. Whispers of unrest began to spread, and loyalties once firm started to waver. Minho’s iron rule, so effective in his prime, had become brittle, and the cracks in his reign were now visible to all.

By the time Yunho ascended the throne, the court was a fractured landscape of competing agendas, all vying for control of the new king. And they watched him now with eager eyes, waiting to see whether he would prove as strong as his father—or if he would stumble, providing them the opportunity to seize power for themselves.

When Yunho was fifteen, King Minho arranged his betrothal to Jang Mina, the daughter of the Minister of War, long before Yunho had any say in the matter. The engagement had been settled when Yunho was still a young prince, barely of age, and the weight of his future crown felt like a distant, far-off burden.

To King Minho, there was no better way to cement lasting peace than by binding his son to the general’s only daughter, ensuring that the most powerful military family in the kingdom remained loyal to the crown.

As the crown prince, Yunho’s life was one of duty, each step already plotted long before he took it. And so, on the day of his twentieth name day, under the watchful gaze of the court and the kingdom, he wed Mina. The ceremony was a grand affair, a spectacle of wealth and power designed to solidify alliances and display the unity of the throne and the military.

While Mina was everything the court could have hoped for in a future queen, their marriage had been built on necessity rather than love. Yunho had known Mina for years, but not in the way one might come to know a friend or a lover. Their relationship had been formal, shaped by their roles and the expectations placed upon them. Conversations were polite but distant, and though Mina was never unkind, there was an unspoken understanding between them—they were bound by duty, not affection.

⋆

“My lady,” Heesook’s voice broke the silence, shaking you from your thoughts. Your lady-in-waiting stood at the bars of your cell, her hood pulled low to hide the bruises on her face. Her hands reached through the iron, desperate to touch yours. You rose slowly and grasped her fingers, your own trembling slightly.

“Heesook,” you said softly, offering her a faint smile despite the heaviness in your chest. “I didn’t think they’d let you come.”

“I had to see you,” she replied, her voice thick with emotion. Tears already welled in her eyes, but she blinked them away. Her gaze flickered over your bruised face, the cuts and swelling a stark reminder of the violence you’d endured while captive. She clenched her fists as if trying to hold herself together, “I had to see you one last time.”

“Thank you,” you whispered, straining to give here a smile despite your swollen features from the endless torture by guards.

Heesook choked on a sob, her grip tightening around your hands. “You shouldn’t be here. You’re innocent. None of this is your fault.”

You smiled sadly, shaking your head. “It doesn’t matter anymore. They’ve already decided my fate.”

There was no escape from this. The court had condemned you, and soon, they would come for you. Yet, despite the fear deep inside you, there was something else—a strange sense of relief. No more fighting, no more struggling against the endless tirade of lies and deceit.

But as you stood there, clutching Heesook’s trembling hands, one thing still weighed heavy on your heart—one thing you couldn’t let go of, no matter how much you tried. The words you needed to say were caught in your throat, choking you, but you knew you had to speak them.

“I have no regrets,” you repeated softly, your voice faltering as you tried to convince yourself. “Except for one.”

Heesook looked up at you, her tear-filled eyes searching your face for an answer she wasn’t sure she wanted to hear. Her fingers tightened around yours, as if holding on could change what was to come.

“What is it, my lady?” she sobbed.

You hesitated, the truth weighing you down like the shackles around your ankle. The one thing you had clung to for so long, the one thing that had given you strength in the frenzy of court politics, the thing that had kept you alive through the betrayals and the lies—it was also the very thing that had destroyed you.

“His Majesty.”

Heesook’s tears spilled over, her sobs breaking the quiet stillness of the cell. “But you love him,” she cried, her voice cracking under the weight of her sorrow. “How can you regret that?”

You closed your eyes, leaning your forehead against the iron bars. The memories of Yunho flooded your mind–memories before the crown, before the burden of duty weighed down his shoulders, before the court’s games had stolen him away from you.

“He was everything to me,” you said quietly, your voice a fragile whisper in the air between you and Heesook. “And in the end, I was nothing to him.”

Heesook shook her head fiercely, tears streaming down her face as she clung to your hands, her sobs louder now, desperate. “That’s not true. He loves you. I know he does. I’ve seen it in his eyes.”

“Perhaps once, Heesook. Perhaps he did,” you said softly. “But love… love is not enough to compete against the crown. And I was selfish for asking for too much.”

You could see the hope crumbling in Heesook’s expression, her grip on you faltering as the reality of your words sank in.

“I’m ready to face whatever comes,” you sighed, pulling your hands away from hers, letting go of the last tether to the life you once fought so hard to hold onto. “And in my next life…” Your voice cracked, and you swallowed the lump in your throat.

“I wish to forget him. I hope my heart can be free.”

⋆

Shackled in heavy chains, you were marched through the bustling courtyard, every step echoing against the stone. The crowd gathered to witness your final moments, a sea of faces filled with judgment and fear. Whispers of "traitor" followed you like a dark cloud. But in your heart, you knew the truth: someone had framed you.

Yunho stood there, his face, usually so open and warm, now shut tight like a stone wall guarding his emotions. You wondered if he believed the accusations, or if, deep down, he knew the truth. But he had said nothing in your defense—not once. And that was what hurt the most—not the accusation, but his silence.

As you were forced to kneel before the executioner, your body remained steady—not from fear, but from a readiness that had settled deep within you. You had already lost everything: your name, your reputation, and soon, your life. But you were not afraid. You would not beg for mercy or forgiveness for a crime you did not commit. You would meet your end with dignity, knowing that the truth would one day come to light.

The crowd around you was restless, their voices a low hum of anticipation. You met Yunho’s gaze across the courtyard, searching for any flicker of the man you had once known, the one who had looked at you with tenderness, who had trusted you. But all you saw in his eyes was duty and distance, the warmth you had once shared now a cold, unyielding barrier.

You closed your eyes, the sound of the executioner’s blade grinding against the whetstone reverberating in your ears, each stroke sharpening the edge that would soon claim your life.

This was it. There would be no last-minute pardon, no miracle intervention. The court had made its decision, and you were to meet your end here, on this platform, due to a crime you never committed. You didn’t flinch. There was no point in pleading for mercy that would never come. The blade would fall, and it would all be over.

The executioner loomed before you, his shadow stretching long across the platform as the sun dipped lower into the horizon. You watched him out of the corner of your eye, each movement methodical, almost ritualistic, as though the act of taking a life had become second nature to him.

In one swift, practiced motion, the executioner brought the blade down. It sliced through the air with a chilling whistle, the sound sharp and final, like the severing of life itself. You braced for the cold bite of steel, for the end you knew was coming, your heart hammering in your chest. You could almost feel the edge of the blade as it drew closer, an inevitable end to your suffering.

But the end never came.

You gasped, heaving as your eyes snapped open, the terror of the dream still gripping you. You were disoriented as you shot upright, your heart racing as though you'd just escaped death itself. For a moment, the weight of the executioner’s presence still lingered, and it took a few rapid blinks to fully shake off the lingering nightmare.

Fumbling for your phone, you squinted as the screen lit up, the harsh glow revealing the time—2:52 AM. A sigh escaped your lips. You’d fallen asleep while studying again, your mind consumed by the pressure of your upcoming history exam.

In the days following your execution, Yunho couldn’t shake the feeling that something was terribly wrong. Mina had recovered, but there was a quiet unease that settled over the palace, a heaviness in the air that no one spoke of, but everyone felt. Whispers crept through the court like shadows, and though the formalities had been observed—the execution had been swift, justice had been served—the disquiet within Yunho only grew.

It wasn’t until weeks later, when Mingi stood before the king in his private quarters.

“Your Majesty,” Mingi began, his voice steady despite the tension that thickened the air. There was no formal bow, no flourish of titles—just a direct approach. Yunho knew instantly that whatever his captain carried with him was more than routine palace matters.

Mingi shifted slightly, his fingers tightening around the hilt of his sword. "I bring news that bears great significance," he continued, never breaking eye contact.

"You may speak freely, Captain." Yunho’s tone, though calm, held a weight that pressed the moment deeper into somber territory.

“A confession has been made by a maid. She was caught trying to flee the city during a routine check,” he continued, each word deliberate, sharpening the already taut atmosphere. “Upon being questioned, she confessed that the Hwang’s had conspired to poison the queen and she was tasked to plant the poison in Lady Lee’s chambers."

Yunho's breath stilled in his chest. He knew well the Hwang family’s ambitions, their subtle rise through the ranks of court by exploiting every opportunity, every weak link. A lower noble class family, yes, but one with clear designs on rising further. They had sought his favor before, attempting to entwine themselves with his household, but never had he suspected their ambitions would stretch into something so dangerous.

He clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms as anger and grief brewed within him. He had always believed in justice, in the truth prevailing, but now he was faced with the stark reality that the court was a place of manipulation and schemes, where innocence could be twisted into guilt.

You had been dragged through the cold halls of the palace, your voice pleading, broken, as you called out for mercy. He had stood there, frozen, unable to move, unable to stop the guards as they pulled you away. The pain in your eyes, the betrayal, the terror—it haunted him. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw you pulled away, your voice cracking with desperation. And he had done nothing.

The last time Yunho had come to your chambers, it was a desperate attempt to hold on to you, to shield you from the dangers he knew lurked in the palace. Once again, he offered for you to become his concubine, the only way he could think to protect you. It wasn’t the future he wanted for you, but it was all he could give, even if you could never wear the crown of queen.

But you refused him, as you had before, your eyes filled with unwavering resolve. You were proud of your independence, too proud to become something lesser, to live in the shadows of the palace. You would not sacrifice your dignity to ensure his bloodline while he remained bound to another.

Could he have saved you from the hell that followed? The knowledge that you had died believing he had turned his back on you was unbearable.

The court had demanded action, its eyes watching his every move, waiting to see if he would uphold the law or let his emotions cloud his judgment. He had always prided himself on being a just ruler, one who believed in fairness above all else, but this...this was something he could never have prepared for.

You had been accused of treason, framed by the very forces that lurked in the shadows of the palace. And despite everything inside him screaming that you were innocent, the court had brought forth "evidence," twisted and manipulated to cast you as the perfect culprit.

Yunho had to prove them wrong. He had to show the court and the entire kingdom that he was not above the law, that no one was beyond the reach of justice—not even someone he cared for as deeply as you. It was the hardest decision of his life, one that tore his soul apart, but in that moment, he had no choice.

So, he gave the order. He signed the decree, his hand shaking as the seal from his ink dried on the parchment that would seal your fate.

“She was innocent… all along?” Yunho’s voice cracked, as if by saying it aloud he could force reality to change, to undo the horrible truth. His chest tightened, the weight of it suffocating, and his knees nearly buckled beneath him.

"Yes, Your Majesty," Captain Song said, his voice steady but tinged with a sorrow Yunho couldn't stomach.

Yunho’s body lurched forward as the enormity of the revelation hit him, tears already streaming down his face. A sob tore from his throat, low and strangled, as if all the pain he'd been holding back burst through at once. It was the sound of a man broken beyond repair.

He clutched his chest, gasping as if trying to pull the guilt, the anguish, the horror out of himself. He had killed you. He had chosen duty over you, over truth, and it had cost you your life.

Yunho leaned forward, his head in his hands, tears streaming down his face. It felt like his heart had been ripped from his chest, shattered beyond repair. How could he ever forgive himself?

"I'm sorry," he choked out between cries, though his words were swallowed by the emptiness that surrounded him. "I'm so... so sorry."

But the words were meaningless, swallowed by the void your absence left behind. He had condemned you, betrayed the love you shared, and now he would live with that burden for the rest of his life.

The throne he sat upon felt cold and hollow, a constant reminder of the price he had paid for power. And as Yunho sobbed into his hands, the weight of the crown now felt unbearable.

#ateez #ateez fanfic #jeong yunho #ateez yunho #yunho x reader #yunho x you #ateez fic #modern au #ateez au #yunho #ateez imagines #yunho angst #forget me not #historical au #yunho oneshot #joseon era

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just-some-user-hunny · 3 months ago

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Yandere Daemon Targaryen as your father

Pt.2

{Warning= people being horrible to daemons daughter for being a bastard and he's not happy, Daemon should be a warning of himself, the word wh#re thrown in, typical violence

. Daemon is a proud and arrogant man, with the fury and skill to back himself up with. He is both sharp in wit and blade- a deadly combination, and a fond thorn in his king brother's side.

. Your father would be eager to present and exercise his skills within your presence- to show off how capable he is. Tournaments, training grounds, simple conflict within the court- he solves them all with clashing blades and swift slashes.

. He would expect you to attend his tournaments- to be seated high above, and to watch on as your father slaughters and bests any man who dares challenge him. All you can do is grimace and wince whenever his blade makes contact with his opposing rival, who you come to pity. Blood soaked sand and gleaming armour, he'll hold his bloodied gauntlets and sword high up in victory and search for you in the pews. He's not expecting thrown flowers or handkerchiefs, but he does hope for your attention. Look how dad you cool is, essentially

. If anyone were to insult you, either it be a whispered murmur of spiteful tongue, or straight to your face, Daemon does not stand for it. It matters little to him if these instigators rank high in society- once a breath of insult leaves their lungs, he's quick to end their ability to breathe forevermore.

This occurred plenty, especially in the beginning. Your mere presence in court was an insult to many- a well dressed bastard with the title of a princess. A common whores offspring who should be hidden away in embarrassment- in shame. That's what any self respectable prince would do.

The king must be growing softer in the head than they let on.

Of course, Daemon finds out, and he takes tongues. Now no-one should ever speak ill of his daughter again. He loves making examples of them.

He's not letting anyone badmouth his baby

. Heads will roll, literally. He'll lop off anyone's neck who commits treason to the house Targaryen. King viserys is completely on board, mind you. He's fond of his niece.

All you can do is watch in horror and cover your eyes/ears as another person begs for their life- trying to drown out the sound of slicing flesh and bloody gargling throats.

. Daemon, from the very beginning, would demand you take to the skies with him and Caraxes. He saw it as a bonding experience for the both of you, and usually that would be the only option of freedom outside the castle walls. At least once a week, he'd take you onto Caraxes saddle and ride with you in his arms at the front of the saddle. A fastened strap secure around your waist, his arms either side you holding the reins, and your own shaking hands clutching on for dear life at the saddle. Eventually the rides would become less terrifying and more enjoyable, but you'd always yearn for your own dragon to ride upon.

. Now Daemon isn't the most comforting person, especially with words, but he will try to convey through his actions. He hates seeing you cry- mostly because it irks him that he cannot just order your tears away due to his inability for patience or skill to calm them. He would pick up this thing where he'd cup your face and tenderly wipe his thumbs beneath your eyes and over your cheekbones. An unconscious act due to always wiping away tears, regardless if your eyes are dry or not. Despite his cold and controlling treatment of you most of the time, he's very gentle with his precious daughter.

. If he sees you wearing a new gown, he'll definitely ask for a spin 😄 he'd look so proud, because his daughters always get the best. He definitely brags that his kids are superior.

#yan! dad daemon #yandere daemon targaryen #platonic yandere house of the dragon #platonic yandere hotd #yandere hotd #yandere house of the dragon

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kckt88 · 14 days ago

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Scorched Hearts VIII

Summary:

'We loved with a love that was more than love - Edgar Allen Poe'

Valaena reminisces about the plan that lead her and Aemond to where they are now, and the two discuss returning to Westeros.

Warning(s): Angst, Drama, Language, Fluff, Memories, Uncle/Niece Incest, Kissing, Smut, Fingering, Lactation Kink, P in V, Moon Tea.

AEMOND x O.C Niece

Word Count: 5098

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon or Fire & Blood characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used.

Comments, likes, and reblogs are very much appreciated, do not copy/post to other sights without my permission.

Tag List - @jasminecosmic99 @kaelatargaryen @yesterdayfeelings-blog @immyowndefender @0eessirk8 @darylandbethfanforever9 @killua2dot0 @msassenach @xcharlottemikaelsonx @moonnicole

As Aemond slept peacefully beside her, his arm draped protectively over her waist, Valaena's thoughts drifted back to the night that had changed everything—the night they had made the plan to die.

She could still feel the warmth of the fire in their small cabin, the flickering flames casting shadows on their bare skin as they lay entwined on the floor.

The memory of the cuts on her palm and lip, now healed but still symbolic, stood out clearly in her mind.

They had married that night, in the old way of their house, binding themselves to one another with blood and fire.

Aemond had kissed her, a mixture of passion and pain, sealing the vow that would make them one soul, one life, forever.

His voice from that night echoed in her ears now as she absentmindedly stroked his hair, recalling the gravity in his tone when he told her, ‘There is only one way for us to be together’.

He had asked her to trust him, and of course, she had. She always trusted him.

Even though his plan was dangerous—unorthodox and bound to hurt those they loved—what choice did they have?

Running away would have been futile. People would search for them, and eventually, they would be found. They had to disappear completely.

Their deaths would free them, but more importantly, it would allow Rhaenyra the freedom to claim her birthright without the heavy chains of their forbidden love.

Still, the plan weighed heavily on Valaena's heart.

Aemond had gone silent for a long while that night, deep in thought, before he proposed the idea of meeting in the skies.

‘They’ll think we fought and killed each other’ he had said, his voice low but certain.

She remembered the uneasy feeling that settled in her stomach at the thought of such a deception.

She had asked how it would work, and Aemond, ever calculating, had already thought ahead.

He told her of Borros Baratheon and Otto’s plan for him to offer his hand in marriage in exchange for the Lord of Stoms End’s support, he also mentioned how Rhaenyra would surely send one of her envoys.

It was perfect—she would be the one to offer to come on her mother's behalf, and their charade could begin.

To make it convincing, they had to pretend to hate one another.

Aemond had played his part well, and his harsh words at Storm's End had stung more than she'd expected, but she knew it was necessary.

He had spent weeks afterwards begging for her forgiveness, hating himself for the cruelty, but Valaena had understood.

They both had roles to play.

Their final act had come with their dragons, a clash in the sky that would seal their fates in the eyes of the world.

She could still remember the practice flights they took over the Narrow Sea that night, the thrill of the dragons racing one another, their flames lighting up the night.

It had been almost like a game to Vhagar and Silverwing. The plan had worked, but it left behind devastation in its wake.

Valaena's thoughts darkened as she remembered saying goodbye to her family. She could only hope that her mother would one day forgive her for the pain she had caused, for the grief Rhaenyra must have felt for believing that her daughter was gone.

But at the time, there had been no other way. Aemond had been right—everyone had to believe they were dead if they were to ever have a chance at freedom.

The first weeks of their new life had been difficult, almost unbearable at times. The only money they had was what Aemond had managed to steal, and they had to avoid populated areas of Essos to keep their secret hidden.

She had been with child and time was against them. They needed to find a place to settle before their babe came and there were times they had to stop and let the dragons rest, taking shelter against them and huddling together for warmth.

Sometimes Aemond would venture off in search of food and he would be gone for what seemed like hours, only to return with whatever he could find or in some cases steal.

No matter what he made sure she had something to eat, he didn’t want any harm coming to her or the babe, luckily the dragons were capable hunters and often Vhagar and Silverwing would share their spoils with them albeit a little charred.

She knew this wasn’t what Aemond had envisioned when he suggested that they fake their deaths and flee together, she knew he resented himself for how they had to live, and he felt like he was failing in his duty to her and their unborn child.

But she made sure to tell him every night that she loved him and no matter what, they were together and that’s all that mattered to her.

Finally, after many weeks of travel, they ended up finding sanctuary in Qarth.

The Prince of Qarth had been eager to welcome them, especially once he learned they possessed dragons. Aemond had struck a deal—protection for the city in exchange for a manse, food, and security.

The dragons, Vhagar and Silverwing, would guard the city from poachers and pirates, and in return, they would have everything they needed.

Valaena smiled faintly as she remembered the birth of their son. She had cried for her mother then, wishing desperately that Rhaenyra could have been there, but Aemond had been steadfast by her side, holding her hand through every moment of pain.

They had named him Rhaegar, after Rhaenyra, a silent tribute to the family they had left behind.

Elaena, their second-born, had been named for Aemond’s beloved sister, Helaena, and their youngest, Daenys, after the prophetic ancestor of their house. The names were a reminder of the legacy they carried, even in their self-imposed exile.

Now, as Aemond shifted in his sleep beside her, curling his body around hers, Valaena looked down at him, stroking his hair with tender fingers.

She wondered what would await them when they returned to Westeros. Would they be forgiven? Would the world even accept them, after everything they had done?

Her heart ached at the thought of seeing her mother again, of reuniting with her brothers. But the uncertainty of their reception weighed heavily on her mind.

Aemond had been right—they had built a good life here in Qarth, far away from the reach of Westeros.

But it wasn’t home. Not truly.

As she gazed at Aemond’s sleeping face, his features soft and peaceful, Valaena knew that they couldn’t hide forever.

One day, they would return. And when they did, they would face whatever awaited them together.

Just as they always had.

Valaena stood on the balcony of their manse, looking out over the lush garden where Rhaegar and Elaena played with their dragons.

The hatchlings flapped their wings excitedly, snapping at one another playfully as the children giggled.

Nearby, a maid sat nervously cradling baby Daenys, her eyes wide as she watched the dragons with wary fascination.

Valaena smiled, but her mind was far away, filled with memories of a time long gone. The warm breeze tugged at the strands of her dark hair, and she sighed softly, lost in thought.

A familiar presence approached from behind. She felt Aemond’s arms encircle her waist, his chin resting on her shoulder as he gently pulled her back against his chest.

His breath was warm against her skin as he asked softly, “What are you thinking about?”

Valaena smiled, leaning into him. “Us, when we were younger and how I used to have such a crush on you when I was a child.”

Aemond chuckled, a low, warm sound that vibrated through his chest. “Really?”

She laughed, remembering. “Oh gods, yes. You were so beautiful and so perfect with your wavy hair and freckles. I used to follow you everywhere. I was so in awe of you.”

“Is that why you used to give me sweets?” he asked, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth.

Valaena nodded, her eyes sparkling with nostalgia. “Yes. I thought if I shared them with you, then maybe you’d like me. I’d steal them from the kitchens, and I’d always leave the best ones for you.”

Aemond pressed a tender kiss to her shoulder, his voice softer now. “I always liked you. I was just too shy to say anything and too awkward to show it.”

Her heart swelled as she remembered those days. “I used to hide on the ramparts and watch you train. The way you practiced, always so focused, so determined. It used to break my heart to see you alone while the others sparred together.”

Aemond tightened his hold around her waist, his voice tinged with emotion. “But with you, I never felt alone again.”

Valaena turned slightly to look at him, her gaze filled with warmth. “Do you remember the first time you realized you loved me?”

Aemond paused, his single violet eye looking distant for a moment as he thought. Then, with a soft smile, he said, “I think I loved you even before I knew what love was. There was always something about you—"

Valaena's eyes shimmered with affection. She had loved him for so long that she couldn’t remember a time when she didn’t.

Now, standing here together with their children playing in the garden, the weight of what they had built together felt more precious than ever.

"If we return to King's Landing-" she began, her voice quiet, "-and things go bad—if I have to choose between you and my mother—I’ll choose you. Always"

The words hung between them, heavy and full of meaning.

She felt Aemond's breath hitch, and then, to her surprise, he buried his face in her shoulder. A soft, muffled sob escaped him.

Valaena turned quickly, concern flooding her face. “What’s wrong?”

Aemond looked up at her, his eye misted with emotion. His voice was thick with unshed tears as he spoke. “Just hearing you say that. It means more to me than you’ll ever know.”

She reached up, cupping his face gently, her thumb brushing over his cheek. “It’s true, Aemond. You are my heart. My everything.”

Aemond’s hand trembled slightly as he brought it up to hold her face. “I love you so much, Valaena. More than I can ever put into words.”

She leaned in, and their lips met in a slow, tender kiss, a moment of pure connection that washed away the uncertainties of the future.

They had faced impossible odds before and survived. Together, they were stronger than anything the world could throw at them.

As they broke apart, Aemond rested his forehead against hers, his voice a soft whisper. “We’ll face whatever comes together and I will always choose you too.”

Valaena smiled, her heart full as they stood together under the stars, knowing that no matter what awaited them in Westeros, they would never be alone as long as they had each other.

Aemond stood in the training yard, wooden sword in hand as he guided his son Rhaegar, through a series of basic sword movements.

The boy’s silver hair clung to his forehead; his little brow furrowed in concentration as he mimicked his father’s motions.

Aemond’s voice was calm and encouraging as he praised Rhaegar’s efforts, his pride evident with each swing of the boy's sword.

“Good, Rhaegar. That’s it—move your feet like we practiced,” Aemond said, stepping aside and gesturing for Rhaegar to try another strike.

The boy followed, his small hands gripping the wooden sword tightly, his face lighting up at the attention.

As the sun bore down on them in the scorching heat, Aemond called for a break. A young maid quickly rushed forward with water, offering cups to both father and son.

As Aemond took a long drink he felt a gentle nudge at his side and looked down to see Elaena, his daughter, standing with a wooden sword clutched in one hand, and her thumb in her mouth.

“Me try!” Elaena mumbled around her thumb; her big violet eyes wide with determination.

Aemond smiled warmly, giving the maid the cup. He took a step back, raising his wooden sword again.

“Alright, my little warrior. Let’s see what you can do.”

Elaena hefted the wooden sword, struggling a little with its weight but managing to lift it up. She swung it at Aemond with all her might.

Aemond blocked it with a mock gasp, tapping his own sword gently against hers.

“Oh no, Elaena strikes with deadly precision! How will I ever defeat such a seasoned warrior?”

Elaena giggled, encouraged by her father’s playful tone, and took another swing.

This time, Aemond dramatically dropped his sword and collapsed to his knees, holding his chest in mock agony. “Oh no! She got me!”

He fell onto his back, playing dead as Elaena squealed and dropped her sword, rushing to his side. She knelt next to him, shaking his shoulder with concern. “Oh Daddy. I just playing”

Aemond stayed still for a few seconds, then suddenly opened his eye with a mischievous grin.

“Got you!” He grabbed Elaena and pulled her down, peppering her face with kisses as she shrieked with laughter.

“Daddy, nooooo! Stop!” she giggled, squirming in his arms.

Just then, Rhaegar joined in, trying to tackle his father. Aemond caught him in one arm and held both of his children close, rolling with them in the sand as they all laughed together.

Their joyous sounds filled the air until a voice interrupted.

“And just what exactly is going on here?” Valaena’s voice rang out, teasingly stern as she approached from the manse.

Aemond looked up from the ground, a grin on his face. “I’ve just been defeated by the most fearsome warriors in the realm,” he declared, still holding onto Rhaegar and Elaena.

Valaena laughed, crossing her arms. “Is that so? Well, I do hope they take mercy on me.”

Elaena giggled sweetly. “We will, Mama.”

Valaena knelt down, brushing some sand from Elaena’s cheek. “That’s good to hear, because Daenys is having a nap and it’s time for both of you to bathe, besides I’m sure there’s a little girl under all that sand somewhere.”

A maid named Lirri stepped forward, ushering Rhaegar and Elaena inside for their bath.

Aemond watched them go with a fond smile before hauling himself off the ground, brushing the sand off his jerkin. “Time for my training now.”

A guard named Arro, approached, and a squire rushed forward to hand Aemond his steel sword. Valaena stood to the side, watching as Aemond and Arro began their sparring session.

Their swords clashed with precision, each strike powerful and deliberate. Aemond moved like a predator, swift and calculating, dodging Arro’s attacks with ease.

Before long, Aemond had Arro pinned, his sword at the man’s throat. Arro yielded, and Aemond stepped back, offering him a hand.

“Good effort,” Aemond said. “But remember to disperse your weight more evenly and open up your stance.”

Arro nodded, grateful for the advice. “I’ll learn for next time.”

As the squire returned the weapons, Aemond shrugged off his jerkin and pulled off his sweat-soaked cotton shirt, revealing the hard lines of his muscled torso.

The heat of the day had left him glistening, the sweat running down his skin. Valaena noticed the young maid staring at Aemond with wide eyes, her gaze shamelessly lingering on his lithe, powerful form as she handed him another cup of water.

Valaena’s lips curved into a knowing smile. She stepped forward and, without warning, kissed Aemond.

He was taken by surprise for a moment, the cup slipping from his hand and falling into the sand as his arms wrapped around her, deepening the kiss with passion.

When they parted, Aemond’s breath was heavy, his eye dark with desire. “You need to bathe,” Valaena said, her voice soft but firm.

Aemond grinned. “Only if you join me.”

Valaena’s smile grew as she nodded. “I wouldn’t dream of missing it.”

Valaena sat nestled on Aemond’s lap in the warm bath, her body pressed against his as she delicately ran a sharpened blade over his chin.

Aemond had his eye closed, his head leaned back, arms draped lazily over the edges of the bath. The heat of the water and Valaena's gentle touch had relaxed him completely.

With each careful stroke, she shaved his face with expert precision, the intimacy of the act bringing them closer in the quiet moments of the evening.

As she worked, her thoughts drifted to the uncertain future, and she broke the comfortable silence between them.

"I’ve been thinking about our return to Westeros," she said softly, her voice thoughtful as the blade moved over his skin.

Aemond hummed in response, his lips barely twitching. His relaxation remained unbroken, though her words stirred something deep inside him.

"I wish to wait a little longer," Valaena continued, focusing on the task at hand. "Daenys is still so young to be traveling such a long way, even on dragon back."

Aemond opened his eye and lifted his head slightly, his gaze meeting hers as he shifted in the water. “It’s alright,” he said, his voice a deep murmur. “Whenever we’re ready.”

Valaena smiled softly, relieved at his understanding. She tilted his head gently, guiding the blade along his jawline, her hands steady. “I admit," she said quietly, "I do fear the reaction to our return. After all, we’ve been dead for five years.”

Aemond took her hand as she paused, bringing it to his lips and kissing her fingers gently. His touch sent warmth through her, and he reassured her in that soft, steady way only he could.

"It’s expected to cause shock-maybe anger," he admitted. "But I’m sure your mother will be glad to know you’re alive."

Valaena couldn’t help but chuckle lightly at the thought. "I just hope she doesn’t have your head sliced off before she realizes how glad she is."

Aemond smirked, his amusement evident as he relaxed back into the bath. “I trust that my wife will advocate for me.”

With the final stroke, Valaena finished shaving him and carefully wiped the blade clean. “I will cast myself between you and the blade if I have to,” she promised, her voice serious despite the lightness in her eyes.

Aemond’s lips quirked into a smile. “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that,” he said, his tone affectionate as he gazed up at her.

Valaena set the blade aside and cupped his now smooth face in her hands, leaning down to kiss him.

The kiss was soft at first, her lips gently brushing his, but it quickly deepened as Aemond’s hands slid down her back, gripping her waist beneath the water.

She felt him, hard and ready beneath her, and the intensity of his touch sent a shiver through her.

Valaena broke the kiss for a moment, her breath warm against his lips as she whispered, “Go slow.”

She moved her head to side as Aemond began pressing gentle kisses to her neck.

“My sweet wife. My Valaena” muttered Aemond.

“My husband. My love” gasped Valaena.

“Your mine. Forever” said Aemond.

Valaena lifted her hips and reached down to take hold of Aemond’s hard cock.

After teasing her husband with a few slow strokes, Valaena slowly lowered herself onto his cock.

“Y-You must tell me if it hurts” whispered Aemond.

Valaena nodded and shut her eyes tight, taking a deep breath as she slowly lowered herself.

“Your doing so well-” muttered Aemond trying to control himself.

“I-It h-hurts-“ whimpered Valaena, the burning sensation bringing tears to her eyes.

“-I can pull out-” offered Aemond.

“N-No just give me a moment” replied Valaena softly as she took the rest of his cock.

Aemond groaned loudly when Valaena was fully seated in his lap, his hands grasping his wife’s hips tightly as she began to move.

Valaena wrapped her arms around his shoulders for support as Aemond began to gently meet her thrusts.

Aemond moved one of his hands to gently caress one of her milk swollen breasts.

“Valzȳrys” breathed Valaena (Husband).

Aemond bent down to lick her nipples, going back and forth between her wonderful, enlarged breasts.

“Oh” muttered Valaena, as pearly white liquid began to leak from her.

Aemond ran his tongue over the milk that had dripped from his wife’s rosy nipples and delighted in the sweetened taste.

“Hmmm” moaned Aemond as he continued to lick and suckle at her breasts, gorging himself on her milk, as his wife gently rode his cock.

His tongue swirling around her stiffened peaks, his teeth scraping against her skin, the sounds of him swallowing.

It felt so good, it felt-

“-A-Aemond” gasped Valaena.

“What is it my love”.

“Don’t stop-please, oh gods-don’t stop” exclaimed Valaena as she arched her back, her cunny clenching around Aemond’s cock as she unexpectedly climaxed.

“Did you just-peak?” asked Aemond smirking as he released her nipple with a soft pop.

“Yes, it has been some weeks since we've properly laid together-” replied Valaena, her cheeks tinged pink.

“Ñuha jorrāelagon, ñuha dāria-” whispered Aemond as he seized her lips in a kiss, the taste of milk upon his tongue (My love, my Queen).

The water began splashing over the edges of the tub as the force of Aemond’s thrusts increased.

Aemond loved fucking Valaena. She was so perfect. He loved her mother’s body and would never tire of feeling her wet heat wrapped around him.

Valaena rolled her hips in time with Aemond’s thrusts. Her loud moans echoed around their bathing chambers.

“A-Aemond. Yes. Yes. H-Husband” whined Valaena as Aemond shifted slightly and began thrusting deeper inside her.

“I want to stuff my cock deep inside your cunny and never leave” moaned Aemond.

“Aemond. P-Please” cried Valaena as she felt Aemond’s fingers against her pearl.

“Take it. Take all of me” groaned Aemond, his face pressed between her breasts.

“A-Aemond. Oh god. Please” moaned Valaena, as she writhed against him.

“I know your almost there. Let it happen. Come for me again-” whispered Aemond, his tongue moving across her nipple as he rubbed her pearl.

Valaena arched her back and let out a scream as her pleasure erupted as Aemond began fucking her a little harder.

He was almost there just a little more-

Aemond held Valaena tight to him as his cock throbbed, spilling rope after rope of his seed.

“My love. My sweet” exclaimed Aemond as Valaena sagged against him.

Valaena took the cup of moon tea from Lirri, the bitter scent already making her grimace before it even touched her lips.

With one swift motion, she drank it all in one go, wincing at the foul taste as it burned down her throat. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, her expression sour.

"You ok, my lady?" Lirri asked, her slight accent tinging the words with concern.

Valaena nodded, offering a weak smile. "I’m fine. It just tastes foul. Gods, I hate drinking that stuff."

Lirri, standing beside her, gave a shrug. "Then don’t drink it."

Valaena chuckled softly, shaking her head. "As much as I enjoy carrying my husband’s children, I think I’d like to wait a little while longer before I have another." She let out a breath, looking down at the empty cup.

Lirri raised a brow, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "Your husband, he is virile man, he have you many times-"

Valaena laughed, louder this time, her amusement clear. "Yes, I guess you could say that." She smiled fondly, thinking of Aemond.

Lirri nodded with satisfaction, continuing with a grin. “My lord, he is like great stallion. Always ready to mount world.”

Still giggling, Valaena shook her head. “That’s one way to put it.”

Lirri’s expression turned more serious, though her tone remained light. “My lord he is good lover, yes? It make you smile”

Valaena’s cheeks warmed, and she bit her lip as she thought of Aemond. “He’s-quite skilled,” she admitted with a soft giggle, her tone laced with affection. “But don’t tell him I said that. It’ll go straight to his head.”

Lirri laughed, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “I think he already know, my lady.”

Valaena leaned back, letting the laughter fade as she gazed out the window at the sunny garden. “Yes,” she said softly. “He probably does.”

Lirri’s eyes flickered with admiration. "Many girls think he very beautiful. They say his hair is like the moon."

Valaena nodded, a smile tugging at her lips. "Don’t the Dothraki believe the moon is a goddess?"

"Yes," Lirri confirmed, her tone reverent. "She is wife to sun. Together they watch over all life."

Valaena looked at her, curious. "Do you miss the Dothraki?”

Lirri hesitated, her gaze turning distant. "Sometimes, but then I remember the Khal and his cruelty." Her expression hardened. "He no deserve to ride in night lands. I thank you and my lord for saving me."

Valaena’s eyes softened, guilt stirring within her. "I wish we could have saved your children."

Lirri’s hand reached for Valaena’s, squeezing it gently. Her smile was kind, though tinged with sorrow. "I will see them again when great stallion come for me. And together we will ride in starry Khalasar."

“What about Arro?” she asked, her voice lighter, hoping to bring a smile back to Lirri’s face.

Lirri’s expression warmed, a hint of affection flickering in her eyes. “Arro is kind man,” she said quietly. “He lost wife in a village raid”

Valaena nodded, recalling the memory vividly. “I remember that day. Aemond had found him lying amongst the ruins, barely clinging to life.”

Lirri’s voice was soft but steady as she said, “I’m glad my lord save him-he means great deal to me”

Valaena smiled, touched by Lirri’s strength and resilience. She felt the weight of their upcoming journey pressing on her mind. "Me and Aemond will soon return to Westeros."

"Your homeland," Lirri said, her eyes bright with curiosity.

"Yes," Valaena confirmed. "If you do not wish to come with us, then I’ll make sure you have enough money to live on."

Lirri smiled, her eyes softening. "I have no wish to stay alone. I love your children like they are mine. I want to come home with you."

Valaena’s heart warmed at her words. "As long as you’re happy."

"I am very happy, my lady," Lirri said with a firm nod.

As they shared a quiet moment, both women noticed a young maid, Mira, walk past carrying a tray of food.

Lirri leaned in closer to Valaena, her voice dropping to a whisper. "Watch that girl. She look at my lord in way she should not."

Valaena’s brow arched slightly, her gaze following the maid’s retreating figure. "I trust Aemond."

Lirri nodded, her expression stern. "Yes, your husband is good man. He does not look for others. But Mira, she want my lord to bed her."

Valaena scoffed lightly, the very idea absurd. "Aemond would never."

Lirri’s eyes darkened with certainty. "But she will try. She like many women who try to take husband for own self."

A flicker of irritation crossed Valaena’s face, but her confidence remained steady. "She won’t get what she wants from Aemond."

Lirri smiled, a hint of danger in her tone. "She bad girl. I shall cut her throat for insult to you and my lord."

Valaena chuckled, shaking her head. "That’s very nice of you to offer, but I shall deal with her myself."

Lirri grinned wickedly. "Then I clean blood."

"I’m not going to kill her," Valaena replied, her amusement growing.

Lirri's eyes twinkled as she teased, "You should feed her to the big grumpy dragon."

Valaena laughed, shaking her head. "Vhagar prefers much larger meals."

Both women shared a laugh, their bond strengthened by shared loyalty, as they returned to watching over the peaceful grounds of the manse.

In the stillness of the night, Valaena was jolted awake by the sound of faint screeching.

Her heart leapt into her throat, and she quickly rose from the bed, her bare feet padding across the cool floor as she rushed toward Daenys' cot.

She peered inside and saw her daughter still fast asleep, completely undisturbed by the commotion.

But something else caught her eye—the remnants of broken eggshell at the foot of the cot.

Her breath caught as her gaze shifted to a small, crimson creature nestled protectively against Daenys.

A dragon hatchling. Its tiny body shimmered like dark red rubies, and its wings, still delicate, were curled around the sleeping baby.

The hatchling’s curious eyes were already fixed on Valaena, watching her with sharp intelligence.

A soft gasp escaped her lips as she reached her hand forward slowly. The hatchling tilted its head sniffing, before nuzzling against her palm.

A smile spread across her face as the tiny creature accepted her touch before returning to its protective stance, curling around Daenys with an instinctive sense of guardianship.

Valaena straightened up, excitement pulsing through her as she hurried back to the bed.

She shook Aemond gently, but he awoke with a start, his hand reaching for his sword.

She quickly shushed him, her voice a soft whisper. "Come look."

Still groggy, Aemond allowed her to lead him to Daenys' cot, where he saw the crimson hatchling curled beside their daughter.

A wide smile spread across his face, eyes filled with pride and wonder. "Her egg hatched," Aemond whispered in awe. "She has her dragon."

Valaena could see the significance of the moment in his expression. She knew how deeply this mattered to him—that their children would be seen as true Targaryen’s, bonded with dragons as they should be.

His own memories of being mocked for not having a dragon at a young age still lingered. But their children would never know that pain.

They would never stand on the ground, watching others take flight, yearning for the skies.

Aemond wrapped his arms around Valaena, pulling her close. She rested her head on his shoulder, her heart swelling with affection as they watched the tiny dragon fall asleep beside Daenys, who had unconsciously clutched the hatchling's tail in her little hand.

In that quiet moment, their world seemed at peace. The crimson dragon, small but fierce, was a promise of their family's legacy.

Their daughter, already tied to a creature of fire and blood, would carry the strength of her ancestors.

And together, they would soar.

TBC

#house of the dragon #aemond targaryen #hotd aemond #aemond fanfiction #hotd fanfic #aemond fic #aemond one eye #hotd fic #aemond x oc #aemond #prince aemond #aemond smut #aemond targaryen smut #prince aemond targaryen

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if-loves · 4 months ago

Text

nightingale

// Yandere Sunday

sum: always on a tv screen, but never in front of him.

wc: 1649

warnings: possibly OOC sunday, probably some inaccuracies about penacony in general

a/n: who let me yap ⁉️ if anyone can guess the song that inspired this fic i will write you a fic of anyone you want LMAO first come first serve /j

and tried to make this gender neutral as possible, lmk if i left in some things!

likes & reblogs are appreciated :)

Nightingales are scarce and even more so fleeting, never lingering in one place for too long, always preparing for their next flight. Along with them they bring their lovely sounds, endlessly singing their tunes that humans could only wish to understand.

Small and agile, they are quick to slip away, as if holding sand in your hand. Coupled with their tendency of moving often, the nightingale is a bird that few have managed to see, and even fewer have managed to hold. Sunday was one of them, once upon a time.

He knew of a nightingale who seemed to enjoy his company, often playing with him and accompanying him when he needed a friend. This nightingale was gentle and kind, it stayed by his side without complaint or question, and even looked happy to do so. In all his joys and sorrows, pleasures and pains, this nightingale was with him, perched on his shoulder obediently, a companion that he so desperately needed.

However, caging a bird no matter its species is perhaps one of the most sacrilegious things a person could do. They long for freedom, to feel the wind against their feathers, to explore the boundless skies; if a bird’s wings are clipped, if they are caged and unable to fly freely, can they truly be called a bird?

When you flew away, he was stunned. You flew far beyond his grasp, no longer willing to be perched on his shoulder obediently, and he had never seen you again since. Not in person, in Penacony, at least. You, who became a renowned actor, schedule always filled to the brim with no time for rest, always on to your next big hit.

Sunday watches you on televisions screens and sees your face plastered on billboards, as you’ve become the pride of Penacony for acting in the same way Robin has for singing. Both of you took flight and left the nest, and he is the only one who remains, waiting for the fateful day you return home, back to him.

When months turn to years, and there’s no sign of you, is when he gets anxious. He has no way to contact you without having to go through the Iris Family first, and you have never written to him. He doesn’t know where you are, or where to even start looking for you, and his duties as the head of the Oak Family mean that he doesn’t even have any opportunity to search through the cosmos for you. It worries him, and it makes him uncomfortable; what if you got hurt? What if you were sad? Who would comfort you?

Sunday feels like he’s going crazy when he reads a gossip article about your potential relationship. Even as his pen crunches and breaks in his hand, as the ink soaks into his pristine white gloves and stains his hand and the papers beneath, he can only focus on reading the same few words on the bright screen.

Only when the distinct taste of iron floods his mouth does he realise the mess he created on the table, promptly swiping off the clearly clickbait headline and taking a deep breath. You wouldn’t betray him like that, he knows you wouldn’t. (Of course you wouldn’t. Right?)

When invites for the Charmony Festival are sent, he takes the time to personally prepare your invite, even leaving in a dried red orchid he procured just for you. He knows you’ll accept the invite, but he still can’t shake the feeling of doubt and fear. There was always the possibility… No, you wouldn’t. He knows you wouldn’t. (Would you?)

Even as word of your acceptance reaches his ears, he still lives with bated breath, as if he’s constantly afraid something will happen. Logically, he knows that you’re not one to back down on your word so there is nothing to worry about, but somehow, somehow - something doesn’t feel right, like a pipe slowly leaking water. It’s only a matter of time before it breaks completely, but he’s left guessing and at the mercy of the Aeons, something far beyond his control, and he doesn’t like that. He doesn’t like it at all.

Ever since you left, he’s always had this uncomfortable feeling in his chest. He feels, or rather, he knows, that you belong with him, by his side as his lover, his everything. To have let you slip from his fingers so easily, so quickly was an oversight on his part - he was foolish to think that you would stay. Your promises were naught but honeyed lies, a treason he could never forgive.

When news of your arrival reached his ears, he was quick to arrive at the reception in the Reverie in reality to greet you. Sunday had personally requested to be your main contact for the duration of your stay, even as mounds of paperwork piled up on his desk. You, who he had not seen for so many years, stood in front of him as beautiful as the day you opened your wings and took flight, and left him alone in loneliness he thought he’d spend with you.

“(Y/n),” he breathes out, relief seeping through his words as he bows and takes your hand in his. Sunday cranes his neck to look into your eyes as he brings your knuckles to his lips, and in front of hundreds of guests and staff members, he presses a kiss that lingers for far too long to be considered chaste on your skin.

Whispers immediately flood the area, phones taken out to film the scene, and Sunday still refuses to let your hand go. Even as you tug as gently as you can, and even as you give him a clearly strained smile, he doesn’t pay them any mind and walks away while pulling you along. While you worry about the rumors that are bound to surface from such a blatant display, he seems as though he could care less.

“Sunday! What was that about?!” You finally confront him as he brings you to what you can only assume is meant to be your room, but he takes his time to close the door and take a seat on a couch. He is smiling.

“What do you mean?” Sunday cocks his head to the side innocently, as though unaware of the meaning of his actions. He even has the gall to pat the space next to him, wordlessly inviting you to take a seat, next to him no less. “Is it wrong to greet my dearest friend, of whom I have not seen for many years?”

If Sunday knows you, after all these years…

“…W-well, I just didn’t expect that you’d do it like that…”

He knows that you’ll always, always, fold to him.

“I couldn’t have our first meeting after so long be anything less than memorable.” He chuckles as you timidly take your seat next to him, his wings fluttering ever so slightly.

“About that…” You clearly hesitate to say your next words, shadows of guilt creeping onto your face as you stare at your lap. “I know it’s been a long time, but I want to say… sorry for leaving you without telling you. I wanted to, really, but Maeven said it would be for the best and I, well, I couldn’t really talk back to her, could I? You know I always wanted to be a movie star, and- and she offered me that chance, who knows if it would ever come back? I just, I’m sorry, I didn’t -”

“Breathe, (Y/n).” He takes your hands in his, looking at you with a soft smile. You looked so frightened, like a bunny facing a big wolf and knowing there was no escape. “I’m not mad at you.”

“Ah, um, are you sure? It’s okay to be mad at me, I deserve it, so please don’t hold back on me just because we’re friends-”

“I really mean it when I say I’m not mad.” Sunday’s smile is pure and angelic, and it brings you comfort in a way you haven’t felt since you left. For a moment, the universe stops, and you lose yourself in this peace. It feels like breathing, after drowning for so long.

You let him hold you as tears start to stream down your face, and soon you’ve started crying for a reason you’re not quite sure of yourself. Despite this, Sunday says nothing and merely hugs you warmly and gently, and you think that perhaps what you’ve missed the most about Penacony is him.

So when Sunday coaxes you into taking a trip into the Dreamscape, you obediently follow his words, and when he brings you to Dewlight Pavilion, to his private office, you don’t question a single thing. He’s still the Sunday you’ve known since you were a child, the Sunday who played with you and the Sunday you laughed and smiled with, the one you made promises to.

When he tells you to take a rest in his office, to let go of all of your stresses and loosen up, you see no reason to be apprehensive of him, and with a nod you do as he advises. Sunday would never want to hurt you.

When you allow yourself to let go of your worries and embrace the warmth of slumber, and when you wake up in a room not yours but somehow also yours, with a raging headache and gaps in your memory, and when Sunday says that you’re married, that you’ve been sick for a long time, that you often forget and forget but it’s okay because he always remembers for you, you believe him. It’s easier to believe him when he tells you the medicine he’s giving you is to aid your recovery than to try and think of anything else.

It’s easier when he’s all that you know.

#honkai star rail #yandere #yandere honkai star rail #yandere hsr #hsr #yandere x reader #sunday #hsr sunday #yandere sunday x reader #yandere sunday

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chibieggplant · 5 months ago

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Destined Threads ~ Part Two

Part 2/2 | Part One

Red thread of fate au

Sanji stood at the top of the stairs of the Going Merry, calmly smoking a cigarette with a gentle smile on his face. The sound of the wind whistling around him and the smell of the seawater reminded him that he was now a pirate. A free man. He looked down at his hand and flexed the little pinky finger where the red thread remained. He felt a rush of excitement as he pondered what lay ahead for him. He couldn't shake the hope that he would eventually come across you while sailing the seas.

As he thought, he couldn’t help but look up at the sky, the clear blue skies making him happy as he thought about the future. “One day, I will find you, my darling,” he thought. Thinking about the possibility of meeting you made his heart flutter. His smile grew as the thought of finally meeting you filled his head. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, letting the salty sea air fill his lungs. It was time for him to start searching the seas. He could feel it. He could feel your presence out there and knew you were also waiting on him. He would find you or die trying.

After embarking on countless thrilling adventures, sharing joyous moments, and overcoming heart-wrenching challenges alongside his loyal crew, his family, Sanji eventually found himself in the land of Wano. The streets bustled with people and energy, alive with the sound of music pouring out from nearby bars and food stalls, the contagious laughter of people echoing through the air. It was a beautiful sight as the celebration of the downfall of Kaido and Orochi took place. The night sky was now clear and full of stars. Sanji strolled through the night, accompanied by Luffy, Zoro, and Usopp, sharing laughter as they walked down the street.

You also walked with your friends down the busy street with a smile, watching people celebrate the liberation of Wano. It was a time to drink, eat, and be happy after 20 years of darkness. As you looked around, you noticed a couple strolling hand in hand, which made your expression falter slightly. You couldn't help but feel a twinge of envy creeping into your heart. However, you shook your head and swiftly pulled yourself out of your trance. You thought that now that the land of Wano would be open, you might finally have a chance to find him.

Sanji found himself smiling as he observed the people of Wano revelling in their newfound freedom after Kaido's downfall. However, his smile faded abruptly when he noticed a couple, hand in hand, strolling by. It was a brief sight, but it was enough to make Sanji feel a familiar sadness. Seeing the happy couple holding hands made him think about his loneliness as he looked down at his little finger. He quickly forced his expression back to his usual happy-go-lucky expression; he didn’t want the others to notice his melancholy moment. He pushed the feeling aside and continued to follow the others.

You continued to walk, enjoying the festival with your friends despite the pang of sadness in your heart. You looked down at your little finger with a sad smile but still held out hope as you sighed and turned to your friends. They laughed and smiled as they tried to drag you to a festival game. “Cheer up, y/n! Tonight is a night of celebration. Stop looking so gloomy,” your friend chirped, pulling you with her.

“Oh, come on, I'm not being gloomy!” You laugh in protest as you let your friend pull you along. “Yes, you are. You've been sulking every time you see a happy couple,” She scoffs playfully. “Now, come on and help us win some prizes.”

As Luffy, Zoro, and Usopp happily chatted, Sanji couldn’t help but feel his thoughts becoming too loud. He couldn’t focus on the conversation; his mind was elsewhere. He couldn’t stop his thoughts from wandering into that lonely place. He could tell he was starting to frown again, but just before he could snap out of it and put on his happy appearance for the others, the sound of a girl’s voice pulled his attention.

The girl's voice jolted Sanji back to reality, prompting him to shift his focus towards its source. He cast a curious glance around the area and spotted you. The sight of you instantly pulled a gasp out of him. With his eyes locked on you, his mind went blank, and a warm blush spread across his cheeks. Sanji was instantly enamored. His cheeks began to grow warmer as his thoughts raced. As Luffy and the others continued their conversation, Sanji completely zoned out. The moment he saw you, he was left breathless, stunned for a brief moment.

Your friend let out a frustrated groan after missing the target several times. "This game is totally rigged!" She complained. “Hand it over,” you said with a smirk as you took the gun from her. "Just watch and learn.” You lined up your shot, and after taking two attempts, you skillfully hit the bullseye.

Sanji watched you closely; his gaze fixated on your every move. He couldn’t help but feel his heart race as he watched you with admiration. After hitting the target with just two shots, he gasped in amazement at your skill and couldn’t help but smile at your victory. After celebrating your victory joyfully, you happily accepted a prize: a charming plush brown bear, all with a smile on your face. “She’s perfect,” he mumbled, entirely entranced by you.

The sound of your cheerful giggle and laughter made Sanji’s heart sing. He couldn’t take his eyes off you as you happily celebrated your win. You were absolutely mesmerizing and beautiful. He found himself falling for you with each passing moment. Your smile, your laughter, and the way you carried yourself captivated him, drawing him even deeper under your spell. He was so disoriented that he didn't even realize his little finger twitching involuntarily.

You started teasing your friend with a triumphant smile, holding up your prize, "See who's gloomy now-" your words trailed off as you locked eyes with a blond man standing in the crowd.

Sanji felt as if time stood still when his eyes locked with yours. His heart seemed to skip several beats as he looked at you, feeling a rush of emotions washing over him. Sanji was no stranger to being infatuated with women, but at that moment, he thought, "So this is what they mean by love at first sight."

As he grappled to gather his thoughts, Sanji's eyes widened as he became aware of something peculiar. His little finger was twitching, almost as if attempting to communicate with him. It was almost like a spark, a sign of something new and unexplainable. It felt as though the thread sensed your presence, wanting to draw him closer to you.

As your words faded away, you found yourself unable to look away from the blond man standing there. He seemed familiar as if you had seen him somewhere before. You felt your little finger twitch. The string around your finger felt as if it was tugging you, like a magnet pulling you in, and at that moment, you just knew. You wordlessly handed the plush bear to your friend and headed over to him without saying a word.

Sanji observed as you handed the plush to your friend and began to walk towards him, causing his breath to catch in his throat. The string on his little finger seemed to be tugging him forward as if it also wished for him to move in your direction. Like it was leading him to you, he was experiencing a whirlwind of emotions - a blend of excitement, relief, and nervousness all rolled into one. A voice in his head urged, "Don't just stand there, idiot." He struggled to swallow as he started walking through the crowd, never once taking his eyes off you. It seemed like nothing else in the world existed for him, only you. He was entirely overwhelmed by the flood of emotions rushing through his mind. His heart and mind were on the verge of bursting at the mere sight of you. He had to make contact with you, reach out, and touch you to reassure himself that you were real.

Your pace quickened with excitement as you were sure it was him. It just had to be. You noticed a red thread wrapped around his pinky finger as you approached him. Your eyes sparkled with confirmation, and you quickened your pace even more. It was definitely him!

Seeing you rush forward, Sanji also felt a surge of urgency to reach you. His thoughts raced as he considered his next words and actions. He was on the verge of reaching you, so close that he could almost touch you.

You practically threw your arms around his shoulders when you reached him, chuckling cheerfully in disbelief at the fact that he was there. Right there, after all these years, you finally found him—your soulmate.

As your arms wrapped around his shoulders, he instinctively wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you close. It was as if all time had stopped, and it was just the two of you in this moment. He felt overwhelming joy and relief wash over him as he held you close. It was everything he had ever hoped for and more. At that moment, he knew he was right where he was supposed to be.

"It's you," you whispered, breathless, as you leaned back with a sunny smile to meet his gaze. Your mind was racing as your eyes scanned his face, taking in all the details. He was cute. No, he was handsome. You lifted your hand to sweep aside the hair covering his eye. His eyebrows had a charming curl, which prompted a soft chuckle of admiration to escape your lips. “Cute~”

As you spoke, Sanji felt a warm blush spread across his cheeks. Your voice was like music to his ears, and when you called him "cute," it made his stomach do somersaults. As you brushed his hair away, he couldn't help but smile warmly and nervously at you. "You're more beautiful than I could have ever imagined," he said softly, his voice full of adoration. He was utterly captivated by you, wishing the moment could stretch into eternity. As you released your embrace from around his neck, his hand slowly found yours, and he gazed at the string tied around your little finger. It was the string that linked him to you. He couldn't believe that this was real. His soulmate was standing right in front of him. He wanted to say so many things to you, but words failed him.

His thumb gently caressed the back of your hand as he held it. He felt like he was dreaming. Or maybe he had died and gone to heaven, and this was his reward for all his life's hardships. No, he could feel your warmth through his fingertips. This was real. You were real. His racing thoughts gradually subsided as he began to grasp the reality of the situation. He finally said the one thing that had been on my mind since the moment I laid eyes on you, “I finally found you.”

You found it difficult to look away from him as you struggled to contain your excitement. You were eager to connect with him and discover everything about him. After all those years of dreaming, it felt surreal that he was finally here, standing right in front of you. “M-my name is y/n, by the way”, you exclaimed, starting to feel a little shy now.

“Y/n…” Sanji repeated your name almost dreamily, savouring the way it sounded. It was a beautiful name for a beautiful woman, he thought. He couldn't help but feel like the luckiest man alive as you smiled back at him, completely enchanting him. The sheer breathlessness he felt around you caused him to stumble over his words. “I-I’m Sanji,” he lifted your hand to his lips and softly kissed your knuckles in a tender and sweet gesture. The sensation of your skin against his caused a wave of warmth to wash over him, leaving him feeling slightly lightheaded. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you, y/n."

The soft tone of his voice as he said your name made your heart flutter in a way you never thought was possible. The sincerity in his eyes was enough to make your knees weak. You couldn’t help but smile in response, your heart swelling with happiness. “Sanji…” You repeated his name, savoring every syllable like it was a sweet treat.

As his name echoed from your lips, Sanji's heart overflowed with love. He adored the way you said it, the way your voice seemed to wrap around the syllables with a gentle caress. He could listen to you say his name on repeat and never grow tired of it. His gaze softened as he reached up and cupped your face with one hand, his thumb gently tracing the contour of your cheek. "I’ve been thinking about you since I was a child. I feel like I've known you my whole life already."

His voice was as soothing as a melody, sending a delightful shiver down your spine. You savoured his touch, basking in the warmth of his hand on your cheek and the gentle caress of his thumb against your skin, feeling a sense of complete contentment. "I feel the same way,” you spoke softly. Your words were a mere whisper, but they held the weight of a thousand unspoken thoughts.

Sanji felt his heart skip another beat at your words, his thumb involuntarily tracing small circles on your cheek. “It feels like I'm dreaming," he murmured, his voice tinged with amazement and disbelief. "But if it were a dream, it wouldn't have this much colour.” He couldn't help but feel relieved and at ease as he held you close. For the first time in a long time, he felt truly alive.

You were so struck by how incredibly sweet and romantic he was. He seemed absolutely perfect. You suddenly took his hand with a cheerful smile, intertwining your fingers with his. ��Come with me.” You guided him away from the bustling festival street and made your way to a quieter spot.

Sanji's heart raced as you took his hand and led the way, your fingers intertwining with his in a perfect fit. He was filled with excitement as he trailed behind you, captivated by the graceful way you moved. The way you walked and turned to look back at him with a sunny smile. Every little detail sent a shiver of pleasure through him. He experienced a comforting feeling as he gently held your hand and obediently followed you without hesitation. “Lead the way, beautiful.” He smiled gently, feeling his heart race with anticipation.

You flashed a playful smile at him and guided him to the spot you had in mind. “Are you always this charming?”

As you turned back with a soft smile and playful sparkle in your eyes, Sanji’s heart leapt. He was utterly smitten by you, and every little thing you did made him fall even deeper under your spell. A smile spread across his face as he chuckled softly, his cheeks flushed pink. “Only for you, my love,” he teased, his tone light and flirtatious.

At last, you arrived at a quiet area overlooking the town. Sanji's eyes widened as he absorbed the scenery. Away from the bustling festival, the gentle light of the full moon seeped through the trees, enveloping the surroundings in a soft, romantic glow. The ground was scattered with a few wildflowers, their petals gently swaying in the soft breeze. It was an ideal spot for a romantic interlude. As you gazed at the city and the night sky, Sanji's eyes landed on your face, brimming with admiration and affection. His eyes followed your stare down to the city below, where he watched the distant lights of the festival dancing in the night.

You look over the city and the night sky, taking in view. “My friends are probably confused as to why I rushed off ” You let out a sheepish chuckle before turning to look at him. “But it was worth it.”

When you turned to look back at him with that radiant smile, he felt his knees go weak. “They will understand," he replied softly, stepping closer to you. "I'll take the blame if they get upset.

You looked up at him and smiled as he tenderly tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “You're…you’re so…” You attempt to find the perfect words to portray him, but everything you thought of fell short. As you searched for the right words to describe him, Sanji couldn't help but feel a surge of affection. He gently reached out and took your hand, his thumb softly tracing circles on the back of your hand.

"You don't need to find the right words," he said softly, his voice filled with a warmth that matched the night air. "Just being here with you is enough."

“Where have you been my whole life?” You murmured your thoughts out loud. It was really starting to sink in, the whole idea of finding your soulmate, and it was bringing up a whirlwind of emotions.

Sanji couldn't shake the feeling of longing and regret for not being there for you all this time. He drew you close, enveloping you in a warm embrace, inhaling the delicate fragrance of your hair. "I’m here now," he whispered, his voice filled with a soft, warm tone. “And I'm never letting you go." As he uttered those words, he leaned back and tenderly lifted your chin, his thumb caressing your bottom lip. “You look absolutely beautiful," he murmured, his voice brimming with sincerity. “I want to make sure you always feel loved and appreciated”

As he gently lifted your chin, your breath caught, and a pink blush flushed your cheeks. You were overwhelmed by a surge of emotions, and tears welled up in your eyes. “I-i never dreamed that you’d be so…” Once again, you struggled to find the right words. “You're like a prince from a fairytale,” you chuckled softly, only half joking.

Seeing the tears welling up in your eyes, Sanji's heart nearly broke, even though he knew they were tears of happiness. As he gazed at you, he couldn't help but feel his own emotions bubbling up. He gently wiped away a single tear with his thumb as it rolled down your cheek.

"I’m far from perfect," he whispered softly, his voice filled with vulnerability. "But for you, I'll try my damned hardest to be the man you deserve." While speaking, he found himself leaning in closer, bridging the gap between them and tenderly planting a sweet, affectionate kiss on your forehead. A slow smile spread across his face as he pulled back, a warm, gentle expression in his eyes. "You’ve got me wrapped around your pretty little fingers, you know that?" He chuckled softly before adding, "I’m completely and utterly smitten."

He gently raised your hand and tenderly kissed your knuckles, never breaking eye contact. The moonlight danced around the both of you while the festival lights flickered below, casting a warm glow as if the entire world was celebrating your last meeting.

"I can't wait to get to know every little thing about you,” you softly, your tone filled with admiration.

With a grin, he pulled you closer and held his cheek against your own, his eyes fluttering shut momentarily as he savoured the closeness. "You can ask me anything. I'm at your command, my dear," he spoke softly, his breath warm against your cheek. “Anything you want, I’ll answer any questions. I'll do whatever it takes to make you happy."

You gladly returned his embrace, feeling at ease in his arms. After savouring the comfort of being with him, you decided to break the silence. “Kiss me~” You breathed out softly.

A shiver of excitement ran through Sanji as he heard your soft plea. His knees almost gave out at the thought of kissing you. After a moment, he managed to compose himself. "As you wish, my love," he whispered softly, his voice filled with a mix of shyness and desire. He gently cupped your cheek with one hand and leaned in, his lips pressing against yours in a soft, tentative kiss.

As his lips met yours, Sanji felt a rush of warmth and pleasure flow through him. It was like fireworks had exploded in his brain. Your lips felt like butterflies against his, soft and delicate. He couldn't help but lean in closer, deepening the kiss. His free hand moved to the small of your back, pulling you closer as he leaned his weight into you, his body craving your warmth and presence.

He reluctantly broke the kiss, but he didn't let you go. He rested his forehead against yours, his eyes half-lidded and a soft smile on his lips. "Wow..." was all he could whisper, his voice filled with disbelief and adoration. He felt like he was floating on air; his head was dizzy with affection, and he couldn't help but brush his lips against yours once more. The taste of your lips was now burned into his brain that he committed to memory. He gently ran his free hand down your arm, his touch tender and caring, before interlacing his fingers with yours in a soft grip.

"Is it too soon to say that I'm completely and utterly in love with you?” He whispered softly, his voice filled with sincerity.

You shook your head, blushing and smiling at his words, feeling the same way. “My heart has always belonged to you.” You smiled, raising your pinky finger.

As your confession reached his ears, Sanji felt tears prick at the corners of his eyes. A soft, shaky breath escaped him as he leaned his forehead against yours, his eyes closing in contentment as he soaked in the depth of your words. A slow, gentle smile spread across his face as he pulled you into a tight embrace. His fingers tangled in your hair as he let out a shaky breath, a hint of vulnerability in his voice. "I don't think I deserve you but, I’m never letting you go,” he whispered, his voice filled with a fierce determination as he tightened his grip around you.

As he held you in his arms, he couldn't help but let out a soft, shaky laugh, his expression filled with a mixture of sadness, joy, and disbelief. "I've been living for everyone else's sake my whole life," He confessed quietly. "But right now, I want to live for you. For us. I love you, y/n"

“Sanji…” You gaze into his eyes, you can clearly see his admiration and vulnerability shining through.

Sanji's heart fluttered for what felt like the hundredth time that evening. The way you said his name, so softly, so sweetly.

“I love you too” A sweet, gentle smile lit up your face as you looked at him. When those three words escaped your mouth, Sanji felt like his heart might explode. His hand gripped your cheek as he drew you nearer, a wide smile lighting up his face.

"Say it again," he whispered, his voice filled with an almost childish excitement. "Please just let me hear you say it again." You couldn't help but chuckle softly at his excited reaction, but you were more than happy to fulfil his request. “I love you, Sanji~”

As you uttered those three enchanting words again, Sanji couldn't help but feel an overwhelming surge of happiness welling up inside his chest. He was in disbelief that this moment was actually happening, hearing those words coming from your lips. Without a moment's hesitation, he embraced you tightly and whirled you around in a swift circle, letting out a joyful laugh. As he set you down, he maintained a strong hold on you, pressing his body close to yours while running his fingers through your hair. "I'm the luckiest man in the world."

You found yourself unable to stifle a laugh as he twirled you around. “I think you think too highly of me.” You smiled, feeling at home with him. As your gentle laughter filled the air, Sanji's heart swelled even more. Your happiness was contagious, and he couldn't help but laugh along with you. He rested his chin against your head and draped his arms around you, a content sigh escaping him. "If anything, I should think higher of you," he chuckled and gave you a gentle squeeze. “I'll worship the ground you walk on, my love”

The night air was filled with a peaceful calm, the only sound being the crickets surrounding you and your steady breaths. Sanji kept hold of you, feeling the warmth of your body and the comfort of your presence. He released a deep sigh, his heart filled with contentment. "Promise me you'll stay with me," he murmured, his voice holding a touch of insecurity.

“I promise” You spoke with unwavering certainty. You had finally found him, so there was no way you were going to let him go him now. Sanji smiled softly as he heard your promise. He couldn’t help but feel relieved that you truly wanted him. For the first time in a long time, he felt truly loved and accepted. He held you close, reveling in the sensation of your body against his, which filled him with an unexplainable happiness.

“You’re perfect” He murmured softly while tenderly planting a kiss on the top of your head.

#sanji #black leg sanji #vinsmoke sanji #sanji x reader #one piece #one piece x reader #anime

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rpmemes-galore · 5 months ago

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Within Temptation : Resist album ... sentence starters

"Is it worth dying for?"

"You're so despicable."

"You keep crawling on."

"You won't escape me."

"Time, I need more time!"

"You're hunting a miracle."

"Our freedom is worth it all."

"We're living in a mad world."

"Oh, why can't we rise, again?"

"Nothing of the heart remains."

"You're fighting an endless war."

"I'm slowly learning how to be me."

"I'm waiting for your last goodbye."

"You've turned the truth inside out."

"You turned my world upside down."

"My heart is lost between the stars."

"Can't control the restless part of me."

"Isn't it strange that love is in the way?"

"We know that nothing stays the same."

"Feel no remorse, light will be breaking."

"You get inside my head, I want you out."

"When the lights go down, I'm still here."

"Don't fight with me, don't fight with me."

"Don't close your eyes, it won't disappear."

"We rise against, we'll always hold the line."

"'Cause I've been betrayed on holy ground."

"I'm waiting for the light of your supernova."

"These days when I'm lost, I search the skies."

"And the weight that you feel pulls you down."

"The night has been long and so many've fallen."

"It's been a while since I told you that I hate you."

"What we had was so much more than I realized."

"You're in my blood, from the cradle to the grave."

"But what does it take to break you, to awake you?"

"We've been here long enough to know it's all in vain."

"I'm feeling the eyes of the fallen; they're watching me."

"You're pushing me into the corner, don't fight with me."

"Why is nothing ever easy? And the truth is never straight."

"And when you're reaching for the stars, they just cut you down."

"Here they come, again. Hear them whispering when your heart is bleeding."

#within temptation lyrics #rp meme #sentence starters

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valentine-cafe · 2 months ago

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"i could keep you safe. they’re all afraid of me" with Talisen 164??😤😭🌷 - 💐

⊹ ۪ ࣪ ᥫ᭡ verse 164 talisen ⊹ ۪ ࣪

. ˚◞꒰ 🍵 corrupt god x reader, siren x reader, cw: dark themes ꒱

𖹭. so I know this probably garnered fluff but I ended up writing dark so. . . yay

you’re not sure how far you ran into the woods. slews of viridian greens and murky browns blending into a spinning pattern before your eyes. fog of tears clouding your vision even further.

the scrapes of thorns still linger across your skin. reminding you of the sharpness of claws. the silver of a tongue that spun such pretty lies for your ears. the sweetest of stories to keep you stable. still.

in his arms. the hold of a monster.

there is no fear in the rustle of the woodland life - but the silence amongst the trees.

the drain of warmth colour - the lack of a familiar copper spark.

only lengths of greens and the hollow of quiet darkness that rose a stutter in your already pounding heart. and still, like a fool, you proceed. sprinting through the woods as though you could outrun a god.

a god,

what happens when a god is angered?

it’s the least of your worries. perhaps it should be your first.

the only concern swirling around your panicked mind is the search for an exit through the thick foliage. to free yourself from the moist soil at your bare feet and the ringing of his smooth voice in your ears.

he is no where to be seen. and yet your eyes tell you otherwise. spinning films of memories and whats-ifs as your gaze darts around the deep, dark emerald woods.

the flicker of light catches your attention.

up ahead.

right there -

an exit.

the flutter of your heart is not of fear. for the first time since you took of. the sliver of hope that washes over your skin makes you finally take a breath of air you had not known you needed.

and like a bird eager to fly out of its cage and soar into the open world. away from the gold bars of uncertainty and deceit; into the skies you once knew.

you think it the auric of sun. the assuring warmth that dons your face and has you gasping for air. your knees giving out as you collapse onto the ground.

wet.

why is it wet?

amongst your fantasies of freedom you neglected the sight of glimmer before you - and when your head snaps up you are face-to-face with the shimmer of water.

the ever-dawning sun.

a lake you knew all.

a song that stained your ears.

from the skin of your back, you feel a cold presence. flushed against your nightgown you had fled in.

the drawl of a crooning voice amongst the sound of your hammering heart.

the touch of his hands that you wished to flee. now on your waist, keeping you form against the ice of his figure.

“my poor little bird,”

he sighs.

“have you forgotten that I clipped your wings?”

the voice of your captor hoists you against him. long arms wrap around you. not tight - not in the slightest. he knew you could not escape him, even if you tried.

“who do you run from, my dove? don’t you know?”

the deity of carnalism buries his face into your shoulder. voice shaky. rasped through sharp teeth meant for tearing.

“I can keep you safe. they are all afraid of me.”

#⊹ ۪ ࣪ ᥫ᭡ loveletters — talisen 164 ꒱#monster fucker #yandere x reader #yandere x darling #teratophillia #terato #monster romance #corrupt god x reader #corrupt god oc #siren x reader #siren oc #monster oc #monster x reader #monster boyfriend #oc x reader #monster boyfriend x reader #talisen 164 #asterism

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fullscoreshenanigans · 1 year ago

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Hello!! I'm really sorry, but could you do a summary of the Krone and Isabella light novels? I can't find anywhere to read them. thank you so much!!

No need to apologize, happy to help!

I've talked about the contents of the first light novel here. Almost all of it is available either translated in text or via sound dramas with English subtitles. The exception is the "NER in Bird Cages" story, which is only available in English as a summary.

I've provided a general overview of the second light novel here, as well a link to the masterlist of TPN content for the English-speaking fandom. The first half is dedicated to Isabella, and the second half to Krone, though if you've read chapter 181.2, you'll already be familiar with most of it.

If one of the stories is part of the content of a post, I'll usually tag it as light novels, the title of the light novel in question, and the title of the specific story. (e.g., TPN Light Novels + Moms' Song of Remembrance + The Starry Sky and Leslie's List)

Here's all the light novels laid out with their story tags (with the exception of the fourth one because I've only read the half that's translated):

Light Novel 1: A Letter from Norman

• "The Ghost Incidents at Grace Field House" - Norman reminiscences about his earliest memory with Emma and Ray, when they were about three or four, trying to solve the mystery of the spooky occurrences around the house. • "The Day Emma Cried" - Norman recalls an incident when he was about seven and became terribly ill retrieving Emma’s handkerchief during a rainstorm. Thinking he’s on death’s doorstep, with Isabella’s permission (to both appease Emma and test Ray’s loyalty), Emma and Ray go out to find the miracle cure, a white flower that only blooms at night. • "NER in Bird Cages" - Norman muses how he's never seen Ray cry before he remembers the incident where they rescued an injured bird sometime after Emma's ninth birthday. Ray deals with the grief of not being able to save his beloved older sister, Susan, if he wants to save Emma's and Norman's lives. • "A Gift from the 39th Girl" - The Grace Field kids secretly work on putting together a gift for Norman’s eleventh birthday.

Light Novel 2: Moms' Song of Remembrance

• "The Starry Sky and Leslie's List" - Isabella's story where she remembers helping Leslie with a list of goals he set out to accomplish over the course of two days before he's shipped out. She also reflects on her relationships with Ray and Sarah. • "Searching for the Skies of Freedom" - Krone's story; chapter 181.2 is a retelling of this.

Light Novel 3: Records of Comrades

• "Two Paths" - The story of how Lucas and Yuugo's group acquired the tea set we see Yuugo with in the bunker, interspersed with scenes of Lucas interacting with Emma and Yuugo interacting with Ray during the present timeline. • "Two Wills" - Gillian and Nigel's story of their earlier days at Goldy Pond when they both lost their sisters, Lala and Emilia. • "Two Destinies" - The story of how Mujika and Sonju met and how Leuvis inadvertently ended the farm system and thousand-year promise because he was bored.

Light Novel 4: Films of Memories

• "The Days to Celebrate" • "Operation Stormy Night" - The Grace Field children reminiscence about the night their older siblings helped them feel safe during a particularly bad storm. • "Ray and Conny" - The Grace Field kids are telling Emma about their life at Grace Field house when Conny comes up. Ray recalls to himself how he helped three-year-old Conny adjust to sleeping in the larger shared bedrooms with some indirect help from Susan. It's a story only he and Norman know now. • "The Chess Proverb" - Ray teaches Norman how to play chess, and Emma and Norman join in a match with Ray against Isabella. Serves as a metaphor for how each of them approaches a problem and how they balance each other out when they work together. • "Don and Gilda" • "The Guiding Star" - The story that explains how the trio got on the roof for the chapter 119 cover art and the comfort they each draw from the stars.

Finally, here's my general tag navigation page that's hopefully accessible on mobile as well as desktop.

#if not ig I'll have to make an actual post instead #been meaning to do that for all my short-form essay posts/longer responses #in the event people want have an easier time sorting through those without having to scroll through the entire FSS Chatter tag #FSS Asks #FSS Chatter #The Promised Neverland #TPN Light Novels #A Letter from Norman #Moms' Song of Remembrance #The Starry Sky and Leslie's List #Searching for the Skies of Freedom #TPN 181.2 #Records of Comrades #Films of Memories #The Guiding Star #TPN Isabella #TPN Krone #Long Post #TPN 119 #The Chess Proverb #The Ghost Incidents at Grace Field House #The Day Emma Cried #NER in Bird Cages #A Gift from the 39th Girl #TPN Two Paths #TPN Two Wills #TPN Two Destinies #TPN Ray and Conny (Light Novel Story)#probably ended up being way longer of an answer than you wanted anon my bad

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vigilskeep · 6 months ago

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do you have any tips for spicing up an orlesian warden for awakening? i'm creating one for my ultimate sacrifice hof (i know you can still import a dead warden, but decided to make an orlesian guy for story purposes) but i can't think of anything that can make them stand out

this is probably late i didnt see this but!!! huge fan of the orlesian warden. myself.

just think about orlais. when it isn’t being played off as a joke, there’s so much to consider—the mask culture among nobles, the existence of serfdom for commoners, the talents of bards, the elves slipping unnoticed through the shadows, the beating heart of the chantry and thus the lyrium trade, the abundant harvests that feed orzammar, the merchants that travel far and wide through the waking sea and down the minanter river in search of riches to bring home. the orlesian warden gives you so much freedom that you can pick anything from it that grabs you

whatever else there is to say about inquisition, it certainly provides enough orlesian locales to wander around. did the grey wardens seek your character across the deserts and wastes of the west? in the white spire or the circle at montsimmard? from among the dalish travelling over the graves of their forefathers? does your character remember the exalted plains before they became celene and gaspard’s chessboard, or recall the glories of val royeaux when a divine sat tall on the sunburst throne? or did they come to orlais from elsewhere, and why?

iirc there are one or two vague implications in dialogue options that the orlesian warden had some role at the orlesian court, though i don’t believe it was clear whether this was in their role as a warden or beforehand. it’s presumably why they were selected for the arling duty (deeply fucking insane setup. an orlesian)

you might also want to consider your character’s perspective toward ferelden, which concluded its rebellion from orlesian rule only thirty years ago. even a human too young to remember it may have family who came here as conquering soldiers, or died here as such; an elf may hate their homeland as much as the fereldans hate it, and only breathe freely when finally given the chance to leave orlais behind; a dwarf may simply feel the numbing loss of orzammar either side of the frostbacks, and dread the still more unpredictable nature of coastal ferelden’s tempestuous skies

there’s some great specialisations to base a character on for awakening too!

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yorucean · 5 months ago

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a conversation between the traveler and the bard

“Didn't they betray you? Why do you still love them?”

—about the Anemo Archon's love for his children, the people of Mondstadt.

Mondstadt has always been a peaceful place. For children just beginning to learn their alphabets, teenagers finding joy in the smallest things, young adults searching for the meaning of life, and weary souls who have weathered too many storms—be it locals, travelers, wandering merchants, or even the animals and creatures... The carefree breezes, carrying the scent of dandelions, will always find their way through your hair, breathing life and hope into you, wherever you go.

It is said that the gentle wind, the safe haven, and the freedom that seeps into the waters beneath the land were all gifts from the God of Freedom himself. Some call it a blessing—a manifestation of the love and affection that the Anemo Archon holds for his children.

He may not be the God of Love, as it is a title reserved for the Snezhnayan goddess, but his love for his children is enviable, and it is reflected in the way the people of Mondstadt reciprocated his love. Some say that the people's faith in their archons is the main source of their power—which then would mean that the Anemo Archon is exceptionally strong, given how much his people love and trust him. Not a single person in Mondstadt is irreligious, the popular phrase ‘may the Anemo Archon protect you’ that every Mondstadtian would sneak in every conversation and the grand statue specially sculpted for him in front of the Favonius Cathedral were clear giveaways to it.

Why?

Lord Barbatos' name was never associated with grand titles. In fact, little was known about him—especially to the outsiders—aside from being an absent archon ruling the City of Wine and Freedom. What were his goals? His ideals? How did he secure a seat among The Seven? Was he immensely powerful, like the Electro Archon who could cleave an entire island with a single strike? Or was he as influential as the renowned Rex Lapis during the Archon War?

No one ever truly knows.

Then why? A certain Traveler once pondered to themself.

What is so special about him, that his people's faith never shakes, even without his presence for such a long time?

The Anemo Archon was never one to talk about himself, nor would he answer if the Traveler ever asked. So, no matter how curious they were, these questions could only linger unanswered in their mind as they wandered through the nations.

At least, that was the case, until they found the answer on a random sunny afternoon.

“Didn't they betray your trust in the past? Why do you still love them, even after all the horrible things they did?”

The Traveler asked Venti as they sat beneath the great Windrise tree, watching the skies of Mondstadt gradually turn orange.

Venti simply smiled. A gentle breeze wove through the strands of his dark, aqua-tipped hair, as the warm sunlight cascaded over his skin. It was a sensitive question to anyone hearing, but there was no sign of displeasure on his face. Just like the wind, he was always calm, carefree and serene. Not a single person had ever seen the playfulness leaving his eyes, never, except in the presence of those who posed threat to his children.

“My dear Traveler,” Venti purred, his voice akin to the sounds of birds singing in the woods. “Children are bound to make mistakes. Stumbling across a rock, tripping over their feet, scraping their skin... It's all part of growing, isn't it?”

“It would be too cruel to deny them, mere humans who struggle to find their paths yet still find joy in the smallest things, the chance to learn and grow from their mistakes.”

There was a comforting silence as Venti's hand reached for a fallen leaf on the ground, turning it gently in his fingers. The leaf was vibrant green, still holding onto the life it once had when it was part of the tree.

“Look at this leaf,” he said, his voice gentle and thoughtful. “It once clung tightly to the branch, part of something greater. But now, it has fallen, carried by the wind to new places.”

He held the leaf up to the light, its delicate veins illuminated by the setting sun. “Just like this leaf, my children sometimes fall and drift away. They may lose their way, make mistakes, and face hardships. But even as they fall, they are never truly lost,” Venti said, a twinkle in his eyes. “Because the wind will be there to support the leaf, just like how I support my children. I lift them up and help them find their path again.”

He then released the leaf, watching as it floated away on the breeze. “Every leaf, every child, has its own story, its own purpose. And just as the wind carries the leaf to new places, so too does my love carry my children, helping them to grow and flourish, no matter where they land.”

The wind felt exceptionally warm that day, as they watched the leaf drift away, fading into the twilight.

Somehow, the Traveler understood the reason why the Anemo Archon was so loved.

After all, those titles were never necessary.

Venti may be absent, and most, if not all, of his children have never seen him in person, but no one ever doubts his presence. They feel his love in every whisper of the wind, every rustle of the leaves, and every joyful song sung by the bards. He is there, always watching over them, lending his hand to those in need of his blessing, while allowing them to find the meaning of life on their own.

Just like the wind, ever-present and unchanging.

“For in the heart of every gentle breeze lies the boundless love of a guardian watching over his children, guiding them toward their own destinies.”

***

in honor of venti's birthday. may (or may not) upload a longer version on ao3, work is still in progress.

i hope you enjoy it!

#genshin impact #venti #mondstadt #genshin fanfiction #genshin headcanons #hahaha can you tell that i love him so much...#i desperately want to write more but i'm in the middle of writing block rn so... soon

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astrobolical · 1 year ago

Text

When he realizes it's love-

Content Warnings: Mild Angst (It's Xiao), brief mentions of battles, brief mention of wounds (nothing depicted)

Reader: Female

I wanted to do something soft for Xiao, while still trying to maintain that adamant determination he has that he doesn't deserve anything nice (seriously buddy, you do).

As a previous Xiao main, I hope I did him justice.

Xiao felt his body ache as he dealt the final blow to his foes, their pained cries falling upon deaf ears as the Adeptus carefully surveyed his surroundings one more time. There was no further movement in the plains of Liyue, no monsters lurking in the darkened, shadowy corners of the night. He had done his duty as he always did, despite the protest of his body and how heavy his spear felt in his hand. He would never speak of the weight bearing down on him from all sides, of the suffocating pressure of his Karmic Debt-- it was his, and only his, to bear.

On nights like this, however, Xiao felt an urge bubble up within his chest. One that had been growing more familiar as the nights passed him by. Suddenly the blur of days beginning and ending had seemed to slow. The morning sun warmed him in ways he’d forgotten it could over the long, lonely centuries.

In those moments when the morning light warmed his skin he felt as if something he’d forgotten was returning to him. It startled him, admittedly, the warmth blooming in his chest. How his mind would wander in his sparse moments of freedom to a singular human woman-- you. Xiao hated himself for it, endangering you for some selfish whim, an impulse he struggled to reign in. But since he’d met you, things had changed. Slowly at first, sure, but over time it was undeniable that somehow the weight on his body had lessened.

He came to find himself searching for you, even if he dared not approach again of his own accord. Simply the sight of your smile in the crowd, knowing you were safe and sound eased the darkness in his heart.

But when you would call, Xiao would move before his mind could think. The melodic tone of your voice is a spell he dare not break, a desire he could scarcely allow himself to indulge in. In these moments, he’d come to you, he’d ignore the distance he’d put between the two of you and allow you as close as you would come. His warnings never made you hesitate, when he’d chastise you for coming to find him you’d simply grace him with your laugh.

When he asked you why you’d rolled your eyes like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Sitting on the grassy plains, he remembers how you laid back, staring up at the clear blue skies above. Reaching up as though you could grasp it in your small hand. “Because no one deserves to be alone.” You’d said, softly yet determined, looking over in his direction.

He’d come to recall that day, over and over in the night. How the light had danced across your skin, how carefree you’d been, how vulnerable.

‘No one deserves… to be alone?’ He wondered, eyes wandering towards the pale, silvery moon above. Subconsciously he reached towards it, until it appeared like he could grasp it in his hand. A mirror of your innocence, an attempt to understand. Golden eyes closed as he let out a sigh, the cool breeze against his skin.

And then he was moving, a blur against the night, yet footsteps silent. His mind was loud, racing, a mix of protests and reasoning. But his feet found the sturdy support of a too-familiar tree, the sight of your home silencing his echoing thoughts for just a moment.

Once again, he’d run to you. Without your call, without rhyme or reason.

You were there, sitting in the quiet night, sleepily reading in the dim lights by the window. Your eyes drifting closed only to fight back open, your chin lazily resting on your palm, propping yourself up. You looked so peaceful that Xiao debated turning back around, returning to the fields and finding whatever creature he could-- he’d destroy anything to keep your peace. But tonight he let out a shaky breath, he pushed his reluctance deeper down, pushed those worries and fears as far down as he could manage.

For the first time, Xiao took a step towards you.

“Y/N.” He spoke, barely a whisper, but it carried through the open window and you startled, jumping in your seat as your head whipped towards him. Your wide eyes met his own, and he was overcome with a blooming warmth as your brief terror melted immediately into the smile he’d grown to crave. You didn’t react with reverence or fear, instead you stood, rushing to your door to greet him.

“Xiao!” Your voice speaking his name made that warmth bloom further, moving throughout his tired body, reinvigorating his muscles into movement as you approached, meeting you halfway between your door and the window. “Are you okay?” Your eyes searched his form as he nodded-- now that he was before you he felt as though there were no words he could form. “I’m glad you’re here.”

You motioned for him to follow, but seeing his tired gaze, his slow response, you frowned. You reached out, tentatively touching his hand with yours. Xiao didn’t pull away, simply stared at where the two of you had connected-- such an innocent touch, so pure, so simple. So kind. You didn’t see him as a weapon, a tool to protect. You saw him as Xiao.

It hit him then, as your small hand grasped his, leading him towards your abode, it struck his heart in a way he’d never experienced before-- you saw him.

Every instinct told him to vanish back into the night, flee from the soft warmth spreading between your bodies where they met. This was wrong, he was dangerous-- just by being near you he was risking you. Yet when you turned, guiding him to sit in front of the small fireplace in your home, he didn’t resist. “You can rest here, Xiao. You’re safe here.” You smiled, before moving to walk away-- he didn’t know where, or why-- but you didn’t make it far. His hand reached out and grasped your wrist-- a ghost of a touch, but enough to make you pause.

Your wide eyes, your red tinted cheeks, it was nearly too much for the Adeptus to bear.

“Stay.” He breathed. He didn’t need anything else-- he, perhaps, was not entirely sure why, but he merely wanted your company. He’d come this far, against his better judgment. Just a moment, a fleeting moment… he could allow himself that, couldn’t he? The centuries of bloodshed and pain… surely they could amount to such a small moment.

“Of course…” You seemed embarrassed at his request, sitting beside him, merely a breath away from him. You held his hand, your gaze settled where he’d grabbed you.

It was the first time he’d touched you.

It meant that much to you?

Perhaps he couldn’t understand fully what you felt, he was still learning to comprehend the vast array of human emotions.

You remained quiet, enjoying the peaceful moment so late in the night, unperturbed by your unexpected guest. You didn’t suggest he sleep, or rest, or eat… you let him be.

You let him be, and he wanted to be with you.

Xiao inhaled sharply at the dangerous thought, though caught himself before he could worry you. He nearly pulled away, nearly fled at the very thought he wanted to remain by your side as long as he could. Selfishly putting you at unnecessary risk because he was tired.

“Xiao?” Your curious voice dragged him from his thoughts, and his gaze snapped to yours just a little too quickly. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” You didn’t need to worry-- you had no idea how much you affected the Adeptus with your very presence. Had no idea the hold you had on him. Xiao sighed, looking away from you as he spoke. “Thank you for allowing me in.”

You were silent for a moment. “Anytime, Xiao. You’re always welcome here.”

The two of you sat in peace, listening to the crackling fire. Xiao felt light, as though his body wasn’t covered in wounds, like he wasn’t weighed down by the crushing pressures of his sins. He felt safe, for the first time in centuries.

In that moment he knew, he knew as he gripped your hand a little tighter. As you finally gave way to sleep, your head resting on his shoulder. When he didn’t move away, instead gazing softly at your sleeping form.

He knew, deep down, that he would protect you over anything else. Xiao was certain of what the warmth within his chest was, how you could alleviate his pain just with your presence.

He knew that he’d crossed a line that he’d never dared to think of. Something he didn’t deserve, something he shouldn’t allow himself to have… but perhaps, just for tonight, he could remain by your side for just a little longer.

You.

The human he loved.

#~Take Time to Relax #Xiao #Genshin Impact #Xiao x Reader #Xiao fluff #seriously he needs some love and affection in his life #it was really hard to not let myself make his banner quote his snow one #Once the snow is thick enough #we can eat it #xiao imagine #Xiao comfort #you are Xiao’s safe place

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drachonia · 25 days ago

Text

𝐭 𝐫 𝐚 𝐧 𝐬 𝐩 𝐨 𝐬 𝐢 𝐭 𝐢 𝐨 𝐧 .

Kinktober 2024 Day 12 William Rex x OC insert (Elisabeth)

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: thought i'd try a sort of role-swap for this prompt! hope you guys like it. also something i learned today: transposition can mean the act of putting yourself in another's shoes, but it's also the name for a series of moves in chess! 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: role-reversal, consensual curse-play.

Elisabeth’s bedroom was a simple one, minimal clutter and maximum comforts. Not a chair nor a lounge lacked a cushion or loose-knitted throw for comfort. A vivid maroon accented with a deep gold was the palette for the cursed lady’s room, like a mix of her dark black hair and crimson eyes. Typically the room’s owner relaxed in her room alone until she was called upon, but tonight she had the company of a partner…a young nobleman with an appearance that would have otherwise reminded her of a villain.

“Will.” She called softly, sitting on the settee at the foot of her bed and reaching a hand out to her lover as the door clicked shut behind him. Her pale-haired paramour crossed the room in a few steps, drawn in by her call and lightly wrapping her in his arms as he knelt in front of her, chin cradling itself in her open palm. He was a man who knew how to be greedy and do as he pleased, and she adored that about him.

“What does my darling wish for tonight?” He murmured in a sweet, lulling baritone. His lips curved up at the edges as those eyes silently asked for something. The little game they played of educated guesses and playful hints reminded her of something a young betrothed might come up with, though the answers they both uncovered were much darker than anything innocent minds could muster.

“I’d like to grant any wishes my lover might have. I pray you feel less confined tonight.” She tenderly cradled his face with both hands, feeling him lean into her fingertips, blood-red eyes slipping closed slow like a soothed predator. Once they flicked open again, his lips quirked up subtly with an idea, “Tell me exactly how I would ravish you,” he crawled up to where his face was level with her own, knees braced on either side of her, “use every bit of power you have on me until we’re both absolutely spent.” Anyone who saw how that gaze shifted with each word would think William disturbed with how his eyes grew more vivid red and excited with each syllable, but Elisabeth knew her lover simply adored freedom. And now he wanted that stripped for mutual pleasure. It sounded completely against both of their codes, but oh so sweet.

Elisabeth drew a breath.

“Would you—“

“Demand it of me, my darling. Please.” He stroked her cheek, leaning in more.

Her breath quickened as he confirmed her this was what he wanted. She shifted back to sit on the softness of her bed, as if running from him, but…

“Undress me, slowly, make sure to trace every inch while you do.”

She swore she saw William shiver at her words as he climbed over her, his knee gently nudging her thighs apart through her skirt. he felt up her stomach toward her chest before starting to unbutton the bodice with slow fingers, tracing the swell of her breasts as they rose and fell beneath his hands.

“You look positively delicious.” He murmured, his fingers finally exposing enough of the bodice to show a generous amount of creamy skin just beneath her underclothes. He felt a thumb over each nipple through the fabric before drawing back to her remaining buttons, coaxing gentle huffs and moans from the lady beneath him. Eventually he reached the last button just above her hips, stroking his thumbs low enough to tease them both before easing the button through its hole to slide the fabric off of her body.

Next came her skirts, and William was a bit less gentlemanly as he hoisted the fabric up to Elisabeth’s thighs, one hand pressed down against her hip as he searched for the ribbons near the back that held them in place with the other, slowly drawing the ends outward to loosen the skirts and tug them off bit by bit as her skin was further revealed to him. He took careful note that her underclothes were far less covering than he expected. That alone caused a surge of desire and darkness that was only soothed by the curse keeping his actions at bay. Once his fingers reached down her thighs, he looked into her eyes, his chest heaving slightly as she moved her own hands to brush his decorated overcoat down his shoulders and off his arms. His shirt buttons she made quick work of before running her palms beneath his slightly opened collar and over his heated skin.

The sensation of skin on skin only seemed to pull them closer to one another, William leaning fully over her and kissing her deeply as he slowly traced the laced neckline of her undergarment, kissing from the corner of her lips down her pretty jawline to linger against her neck as he took special care to mark it once with a rough nip of his teeth and gentle rolling of his tongue over the reddened mark. Each touch and kiss drawing a soft noise from the Cursed woman’s lips.

Next, his lips trailed down the contour of her collarbone, tongue gently tracing between her breasts to her cleavage before brushing the outline of her clothing as he slowly untied the lacin. Each inch of exposed skin seemed to rise with goosebumps as William exposed Elisabeth with a — mostly — silent appreciation. Hungry lips continued to tease the swell of her chest even as the fabric dragged over her nipples, exposing the sensitive buds as he let her chemise lay half stripped from her. He delved back in to suck at the rosy tinted skin with voracity as his vivid red eyes glanced up through pale lashes at his beloved. Will gave a hum of approval at her disheveled state, awaiting her next command as he sat up above her.

After catching her breath, the dark-haired lady managed a few words, “Don’t let me go until morning. Even if I pass out.”

A low, purring chuckle resonated through his chest as he moved like a man possessed, eyes filled with excitement of what was to come as he grasped her lacy garments that remained, curling them in his fingers and tugging down with a rough motion that betrayed his usual gentlemanly nature. Fabric ripped, she gasped, he chuckled, and soon the only thing the woman could think of was the feeling of his hands on her breasts and thighs.

“W—ill!” She gasped, breath hitching mid-cry as he slipped his fingers in and out of her heat, slowly scissoring her folds apart with a heady sigh that fanned her cheeks and wrapped her in the scent of freshly cut roses. His nails gently scratched every itch inside, fingers curling like he was beckoning her to press herself closer to him, though their bodies were practically melted into one.

“Mm!” Elisabeth sighed out, digging her nails into his biceps as he leaned over her a bit more, taking his fingers out gingerly and slipping them between his lips one by one until they were suckled clean of her. William gave a lick of his lips as his lover stared at him with a dreamy pout on her face.

“It’s like you’re begging me now, even though you commanded I keep you satisfied through the night.” He pressed his tip against her entrance, “Not that I mind, I quite like the thought of taking every last piece of my monarch until she’s an absolute mess for me.” He drawled sweetly as he accented his words by slowly sinking into her.

His pace started slow and rocking, tender and amorous, but gradually built to accommodate the gasping breaths of the ‘monarch’ beneath him. Every thrust was punctuated with a string of Elisabeth’s gasping moans and William’s soft purrs until both of them eventually fell over that delightful edge, warmth shared between them. The two fell onto the bed together, William gently resting his lover’s thigh over his hip gently as he stroked the small of her back. Elisabeth only felt a few short minutes of relaxation and reprieve before Will started to shift every so often.

“William…” she groaned, cheeks flushed as she hid in his chest, “We just finished—“

“You said until morning, my love, and I am holding you to it.” Scarlet eyes glimmered as he rolled back on top of her, not to stop until her will was finished.

#kinktober 2024 #drac writes #ikemen villains #ikevil #ikevil william #william rex

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