#she's silk hiding steel | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

baelabong · 2 months ago

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ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴇɪɢʜᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴠᴇʟᴠᴇᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ᴠᴏᴡꜱ

ʙᴜꜱɪɴᴇꜱꜱ ᴡᴏᴍᴀɴ! ᴡᴏɴʏᴏᴜɴɢ x ʜᴇɪʀᴇꜱꜱ! ꜰᴇᴍ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

plot: forced into an artanged marriage by your family, you resent both them and your future wife. Except you can’t seem to actually hate her

notes: angst,fluff, 5k words

You stand at the entrance of the grand hall, your heart pounding in your chest. The gown you’re wearing is a masterpiece of silk and lace, flowing elegantly around you, but it feels like a cage. Each intricate detail, each delicate stitch, is a reminder of the expectations weighing on your shoulders. You feel trapped, your breath shallow as you take in the scene before you—the lavish flowers, the towering chandeliers, and the sea of guests, all here to witness a union built on anything but love.

Wonyoung is already at the altar, waiting for you. She stands tall, poised in a perfectly tailored suit, her expression calm and composed. She’s every bit the perfect bride, the picture of grace and elegance. But as your eyes meet hers from across the room, you can see something flickering beneath the surface—a flicker of emotion that she quickly hides behind a soft smile.

The aisle feels impossibly long as you begin your walk, every step measured and deliberate. The murmurs of the crowd fade into the background, drowned out by the sound of your own heartbeat. You can feel the weight of their stares, the silent judgment of those who have come to witness this marriage of convenience.

When you finally reach the altar, Wonyoung’s gaze is steady, unwavering. There’s a depth in her eyes that catches you off guard, something that makes you falter for just a moment. But you steel yourself, refusing to let your emotions show.

The officiant begins the ceremony, their voice a distant echo in your ears. You force yourself to focus on the words, even as Wonyoung’s presence seems to consume all your attention. She’s close—too close—and the scent of her perfume, something soft and floral, fills your senses. It’s distracting, disorienting, and you hate that it’s affecting you so much.

“Y/N,” Wonyoung’s voice is gentle when she speaks her vows, her tone warm and sincere. “I vow to stand by you, to honor and respect you, and to support you in all that we do together.”

There’s a weight to her words that you can’t ignore, a promise that feels too genuine, too intimate. You swallow hard, your own vows sticking in your throat as you struggle to find the right words.

“I vow to honor this union,” you begin, your voice low and strained. “To fulfill my duties as your partner, and to stand by you as we face the future together.”

It’s all you can manage, the words bitter on your tongue. But Wonyoung doesn’t falter, her expression softening as she listens. The ceremony continues, the officiant guiding you through the motions, and you go along with it, your mind racing with everything unsaid.

Finally, the moment you’ve been dreading arrives—the kiss. The officiant pronounces you married, and the room seems to hold its breath, waiting for the final act that will seal this unwanted union.

Wonyoung steps closer, her hand gently resting on your arm. “Y/N,” she murmurs, her voice so soft that only you can hear, “We don’t have to do this if you’re not ready.”

Her words are a lifeline, a kindness you didn’t expect. But the eyes of the crowd are on you, and you know what’s expected. There’s no escape, no way to avoid this moment. So you nod, just enough to let her know you’ll go through with it.

Wonyoung leans in, her movements slow and careful, as if she’s giving you time to pull away. But you don’t. Her lips meet yours in the faintest, gentlest kiss, a whisper of contact that sends a jolt through you. It’s over almost as soon as it begins, but the warmth of it lingers, confusing and unsettling.

As you pull away, the applause of the crowd rings in your ears, but it feels distant, like it’s happening in another world. All you can focus on is Wonyoung—the way she’s looking at you, the way her hand lingers on your arm, as if she’s afraid to let go. And maybe, just maybe, you feel the same.

But you push that thought down, burying it deep inside. You can’t afford to let your guard down now. Not when this is just the beginning of something neither of you fully understands.

———-

The suite is a dream—a secluded, oceanfront villa with floor-to-ceiling windows offering a breathtaking view of the moonlit sea. The sound of the waves crashing gently against the shore fills the air, but the peaceful ambiance does nothing to soothe the tension between you and Wonyoung.

You stand near the bed, staring out at the horizon, trying to gather your thoughts. The beauty of the place feels almost mocking, as if it’s taunting you with the idea of a perfect honeymoon that you know will never be. The gown you’re still wearing from the wedding clings to you uncomfortably, but changing is the last thing on your mind.

Behind you, Wonyoung is quiet, her presence a constant reminder that this is no ordinary vacation. She’s been quiet since you arrived, the journey here marked by a strained silence that neither of you dared to break. Now, as the reality of your first night as a married couple settles in, the weight of it all feels suffocating.

You turn away from the window, your eyes landing on the massive bed at the center of the room. It’s beautifully made, the softest linens draped across it, but you can’t bring yourself to even think about sleeping there. The very idea of sharing that space with Wonyoung, no matter how innocent, makes your chest tighten with a mix of dread and anger.

Without a word, you walk over to the bed, grabbing one of the pillows and tossing it onto the plush sofa across the room. “I’ll sleep here,” you declare, your voice flat, betraying none of the turmoil brewing inside you.

Wonyoung, who had been watching you quietly from the doorway, finally steps into the room. She’s already changed out of her wedding attire, now dressed in something soft and casual, but the tiredness in her eyes is impossible to miss. “Y/N…” she begins, her voice trailing off as if she’s not sure what to say.

You don’t wait for her to finish. “It’s fine,” you say curtly, busying yourself with arranging the sofa. “There’s no need to pretend this is something it’s not.”

There’s a brief silence, and for a moment, you wonder if she’s going to argue, but she doesn’t. Instead, Wonyoung lets out a quiet sigh, her shoulders sagging slightly. “Alright,” she agrees softly, the word hanging in the air between you.

You settle onto the sofa, avoiding her gaze. The sound of the waves outside is the only noise in the room, and it’s almost unbearable in the awkwardness that follows. You can hear Wonyoung moving around, the rustle of fabric as she fidgets with the edge of the blanket on the bed.

“This doesn’t have to be a war, you know,” Wonyoung’s voice is gentle, almost tentative. The words are laced with a softness that catches you off guard, making you freeze in place.

Your back stiffens at her words, your defenses rising instinctively. “It already is,” you respond coldly, your voice like ice. You don’t turn to face her, but you can feel her watching you, can almost sense the sadness that your words have left in their wake.

You curl up on the sofa, pulling the pillow close to you as if it could somehow shield you from the confusing mix of emotions swirling inside you. You hear Wonyoung slip into bed, the sheets rustling as she settles in, but the tension between you is palpable, thickening the air with every passing second.

Neither of you speaks again. The silence stretches out, broken only by the rhythmic crashing of the waves outside. You try to close your eyes, willing yourself to sleep, but your thoughts are a tangled mess, replaying every moment of the day, every look, every word exchanged between you and Wonyoung.

Across the room, Wonyoung shifts in the bed, and you can tell she’s just as restless as you are. The bed is large enough for two, but it might as well be a chasm, the distance between you insurmountable.

And yet, as you lie there, staring up at the dark ceiling, you can’t shake the feeling of Wonyoung’s presence, the warmth of her so close and yet so far. The night drags on, the minutes feeling like hours, both of you lost in your own thoughts, both too proud—or too afraid—to reach out.

Morning can’t come soon enough, but you know deep down that the rising sun won’t dispel the tension between you. It’s only the first night, and already, it feels like an eternity.

————

The kitchen is dimly lit, the only sound the rhythmic chop of your knife against the cutting board as you prepare a late-night snack. It’s become something of a routine for you—a small act of independence, a way to claim a piece of normalcy in this life you didn’t choose.

You’re focused on the vegetables in front of you, each slice precise, almost methodical. The repetition is calming, allowing you to forget, just for a moment, about the reality of your situation. But the peace is short-lived. The sound of soft footsteps pulls you from your thoughts, and you stiffen as Wonyoung enters the kitchen.

She’s dressed casually, her hair slightly tousled as if she’s just woken up. She pauses in the doorway when she sees you, her expression a mix of surprise and concern. “Y/N,” she says softly, “I didn’t expect you to be up this late.”

You don’t respond immediately, your focus remaining on the task at hand. The tension between you is palpable, thickening the air as Wonyoung steps closer.

“Let me help,” she offers, moving toward the counter.

“I don’t need help,” you snap, sharper than you intended. You don’t look at her, but you can feel the way she tenses at your words, the frustration in her silence.

“Why do you have to be so difficult?” Wonyoung finally retorts, her voice rising slightly. “I’m trying here!”

The knife in your hand stills, and you set it down with more force than necessary, your hands gripping the edge of the counter as you try to keep your emotions in check. “Trying to do what, exactly?” you shoot back, turning to face her. “Control everything? Handle my life like it’s another one of your business ventures?”

Wonyoung’s eyes flash with hurt, but she stands her ground. “I’m not trying to control you, Y/N. I’m just trying to make things easier. You don’t have to worry about the company anymore. You don’t have to work yourself to the bone. Isn’t that what you wanted?”

“No, it’s not,” you say, your voice trembling with anger. “I want to work. I want to manage my family’s company. It’s the one thing that’s still mine, the one thing I have control over, and you just took it away like it was nothing!”

Wonyoung hesitates, her expression softening as she searches your face. “I didn’t take it away. I’m handling it so you don’t have to. I didn’t want you to be stressed, especially with everything going on.”

“Stressed?” you laugh bitterly, shaking your head. “This—this life you’ve built for me, this cage you’ve put me in—is more stressful than anything else could ever be. I never asked for this, Wonyoung. I never asked for you to take over my life!”

Wonyoung’s frustration flares, and she takes a step closer, her voice tight with emotion. “And you think I did? You think I wanted any of this? I’m just trying to make the best of a bad situation. We both are!”

The words hang in the air, sharp and painful, and for a moment, the two of you just stand there, glaring at each other, neither willing to back down. The tension is suffocating, the anger between you building until it feels like it might explode.

But then, Wonyoung’s expression shifts, her shoulders sagging as the fight drains out of her. “I didn’t ask for this either, Y/N,” she says softly, her voice breaking the silence like a whisper. “But it’s what we have now. And I’m just… I’m trying.”

Her words hit you like a punch to the gut, the raw honesty in her voice catching you off guard. You can see the weariness in her eyes, the toll that this marriage has taken on her, too. But your own anger is still too fresh, too raw, to let you fully absorb it.

You turn away, your hands trembling as you try to steady your breathing. “I can’t do this right now,” you mutter, grabbing your phone and leaving the half-prepared snack on the counter. You don’t wait for Wonyoung’s response as you storm out of the kitchen, your heart pounding in your chest.

As you retreat to the bedroom, the echo of Wonyoung’s last words follows you, sinking into your thoughts despite your best efforts to push them away. You didn’t ask for this either. The truth of it lingers, the realization that you’re not the only one struggling to navigate this unwanted life.

But tonight, the distance between you feels too great to bridge, and you can’t bring yourself to face her again. Not yet.

———

The evening is heavy with the weight of everything that had gone unsaid during dinner. Your family’s polite, yet pointed, questions had left you feeling cornered, suffocated by the expectations placed on you now that you’re Wonyoung’s spouse. The lavish dinner, the forced smiles, the subtle digs—it all became too much, and you found yourself needing to escape.

You barely remember how you ended up here, on a bench in the middle of a park, the rain pouring down relentlessly. The cold droplets soak through your clothes, but you don’t care. The chill is a welcome distraction from the storm raging inside you, a storm that’s been building for months.

You’re drenched, but it doesn’t matter. The rain blurs everything, making the world around you feel distant, almost surreal. Your thoughts are tangled, a mess of anger, frustration, and an overwhelming sense of being trapped. You’ve been fighting this battle alone for so long—fighting against Wonyoung, against your situation, against the life you never wanted.

But tonight, after that dinner, the fight seems pointless. The exhaustion is catching up to you, and for the first time, your resolve begins to crack.

You don’t hear her approach at first. The rain drowns out the sound of footsteps, but then there’s a shadow, a presence beside you. You look up and see Wonyoung standing there, holding an umbrella over your head. Her clothes are soaked from the rain she must have walked through to find you, but she doesn’t seem to care.

For a moment, neither of you speaks. The rain continues to fall, creating a curtain around the two of you, isolating you from the rest of the world. Wonyoung’s expression is hard to read, a mix of concern and something else, something softer.

“Why are you doing this?” you ask, your voice trembling despite your best efforts to keep it steady. The vulnerability in your own words surprises you, the way they seem to slip out before you can stop them.

Wonyoung doesn’t answer right away. Instead, she carefully sets the umbrella down so it covers both of you, shielding you from the worst of the rain. Then, slowly, she sits down beside you on the bench. She’s close, but she doesn’t touch you, respecting the distance you’ve always kept between you.

“Because I care,” she says quietly, her voice almost lost in the sound of the rain. “Even if you don’t want me to.”

Her words hang in the air, and for a moment, you can’t breathe. The sincerity in her voice, the way she says it without any expectation or demand, catches you off guard. It’s not what you expected, not what you wanted to hear. And yet, there’s a part of you—a small, almost forgotten part—that’s deeply moved by it.

You look away, staring at the rain-soaked ground as you try to push down the emotions bubbling up inside you. This isn’t what you signed up for. You were supposed to hate her, to resist everything she represents. But now, sitting here beside her in the rain, you feel something shift.

It’s small, almost imperceptible, but it’s there—a crack in the armor you’ve built around yourself, a tiny sliver of something other than resentment.

You clench your fists, willing yourself to stay strong, to keep up the walls that have kept you safe. But it’s hard, so much harder than it’s ever been before. And when you finally look at Wonyoung, really look at her, the fight inside you wavers.

She’s watching you with those soft eyes, full of a care you’ve refused to acknowledge for months. The rain has made her hair cling to her face, her cheeks flushed from the cold, but she doesn’t seem to mind. Her focus is entirely on you, her concern genuine and unwavering.

“I don’t need your pity,” you whisper, your voice barely audible over the rain. But even as you say it, you know it’s not true. What you don’t need is to feel this way, to feel your heart soften toward her when you’ve worked so hard to keep it hardened.

Wonyoung shakes her head slightly, her gaze never leaving yours. “It’s not pity,” she replies, her tone firm yet gentle. “I just… I don’t want you to be alone in this.”

Her words are like a lifeline, and for a fleeting moment, you want to reach out, to grab hold of what she’s offering. But you pull back, afraid of what it might mean, of what it could lead to. You’ve fought so hard to keep your distance, to stay independent, and letting her in feels like surrender.

So you swallow the lump in your throat, pushing down the emotions threatening to spill over. “I just needed some air,” you say, your voice more steady now, more controlled. “I’ll be fine.”

Wonyoung doesn’t argue. She simply nods, accepting your words even though you both know they’re only half-true. She stays beside you, though, silent and supportive, her presence a quiet comfort you didn’t know you needed.

The rain begins to let up, the storm passing as quickly as it came. But the tension between you remains, unresolved and lingering in the damp air. Eventually, Wonyoung stands, offering you a hand to help you up. You hesitate for only a moment before taking it, her touch warm despite the cold.

As the two of you walk back together, the umbrella shielding you both from the last of the rain, you can’t help but feel that something has changed between you. It’s subtle, a shift in the way you see her, in the way you feel when she’s close. But it’s there, undeniable, and you’re not sure if that scares you more than the storm that just passed.

Because for the first time, you don’t just see Wonyoung as your unwanted wife. You see her as someone who cares—someone who, despite everything, might just be worth letting in. And that thought, more than anything, is what you find hardest to push down as the two of you walk home in the fading rain.

————-

The ballroom is grand and opulent, filled with the elite of the business world. Crystal chandeliers cast a warm, golden glow over the room, illuminating the expensive suits and designer gowns of the guests. Soft music plays in the background, the gentle hum of conversation filling the air.

You stand near the edge of the room, a glass of champagne in hand, trying to blend in but feeling completely out of place. The event is Wonyoung’s domain—a world of powerful connections and strategic conversations. She’s in her element here, and you can’t help but feel like an outsider.

Your eyes find Wonyoung across the room, and you can’t look away. She’s surrounded by a small group of influential figures, her smile charming, her posture confident. Every gesture, every word she says, exudes a natural grace and authority. It’s like watching a master at work, and for the first time, you feel a pang of admiration—something you hadn’t allowed yourself to feel before.

As you watch her, something inside you shifts. There’s an unfamiliar emotion stirring in your chest, something more than just admiration. You’ve always known Wonyoung was competent, but seeing her like this, so poised and in control, it’s… impressive. And strangely, it makes you feel something you can’t quite name.

But you push those feelings aside, focusing instead on the coldness of the champagne glass in your hand. You’ve spent so long keeping your distance, building walls around yourself. Now isn’t the time to let them crumble.

Just as you’re about to slip out to the terrace for some air, a voice interrupts your thoughts. “So, you’re the spouse, huh?” The tone is condescending, laced with a smugness that grates on your nerves.

You turn to see an older man, a high-ranking executive from one of the companies Wonyoung frequently deals with. He looks you up and down, his expression dismissive. “Must be nice,” he continues, “being married to someone like her. You don’t have to do anything but look pretty, I guess.”

Your face heats up, but before you can respond, Wonyoung appears beside you. Her eyes flash with a fierce, protective anger. “Is that really how you speak about my spouse?” Her voice is sharp, cutting through the air with palpable intensity.

The man’s smile falters, surprise flickering across his face. “I didn’t mean anything by it. I was just making an observation.”

Wonyoung doesn’t let up, her tone harsh and uncompromising. “An observation based on ignorance. You don’t get to belittle her because you think it’s funny. You don’t know the sacrifices she’s made, the work she’s done.”

The man starts to stammer, but Wonyoung doesn’t give him a chance to recover. “You think you’re entitled to judge someone based on their relationship with me? You have no idea what she’s been through, what she’s accomplished. So why don’t you keep your opinions to yourself?”

The crowd around you begins to murmur, their eyes shifting between you and Wonyoung. The man clears his throat awkwardly, trying to regain his composure. “Okay, okay. I didn’t realize… I apologize.”

Wonyoung stands her ground, her expression unyielding. “I suggest you learn to be more respectful, not just to my spouse, but to everyone around you. We’re equals, and she deserves to be treated as such.”

As the man walks away, Wonyoung turns to you, her anger slowly melting into concern. “Are you okay?”

You nod, though you’re still processing the intensity of the defense. “I—thank you. I didn’t expect you to—”

Wonyoung cuts you off, her voice still firm but softer now. “You shouldn’t have to put up with that kind of disrespect. And for what it’s worth, I’m proud of you. Don’t let people like him make you doubt your worth.”

Her words, so different from the usual tension between you, catch you off guard. The way she stood up for you, her fierce protection, makes you reconsider everything you’ve thought about her. She’s not just the wife who took over your life; she’s someone who genuinely cares, someone who might just understand you in ways you hadn’t thought possible.

That night, as you lie in bed, the events of the evening replay in your mind. Wonyoung’s fierce defense, her protective nature, and the way she stood up for you make you see her in a new light. She’s not just someone you’re stuck with; she’s someone who fights for you, even when you don’t expect it.

You turn to face her in the dim light of the room, finding her already looking at you with a mix of concern and something softer. “I didn’t realize you felt that way,” you say quietly, your voice barely above a whisper.

Wonyoung’s expression is calm, but there’s a hint of vulnerability in her eyes. “I care about you, Y/N. More than you might believe.”

You lie back, staring at the ceiling, your thoughts a whirlwind. Wonyoung’s actions have shifted your perception, showing you a side of her that’s unexpectedly compassionate and fiercely protective. It’s a turning point, a moment where you start to see her not just as your spouse but as someone who might just be worth letting in.

You turn back to her, finding her lying close by. The distance between you feels smaller now, the walls you’ve built around yourself beginning to crumble. You reach out tentatively, and Wonyoung shifts closer, her warmth a comforting presence.

As you drift into sleep, you find yourself tangled in the sheets with her, the space between you shrinking. It’s the first time you share the bed without reservation, a small but significant step towards understanding each other better.

———-

The living room is softly illuminated by the warm light of the lamps, creating an inviting atmosphere. Outside, the city’s noise is a distant murmur, leaving the room in a peaceful hush. You and Wonyoung are snuggled together on the couch, a cozy blanket draped over both of you. It’s become a routine to spend these evenings together, sharing meals and conversations that you never thought you’d have.

Tonight, you’re sitting with a bowl of homemade pasta and a glass of wine, a comfortable silence hanging between you as you both enjoy the meal. After weeks of growing closer, this has become a favorite part of your day. The tension that once defined your relationship has eased, replaced by moments of genuine connection.

Wonyoung sets her fork down, looking at you with a thoughtful expression. “You know, I’ve been thinking…” she begins, her voice softer than usual. “Since you don’t need to manage your family’s company anymore, why don’t you take it back? I know it was important to you.”

You look up from your plate, surprised. “What do you mean? I thought you were handling it.”

Wonyoung nods. “I am. But I know it was your dream to run the company. I don’t want to stand in the way of that.”

You shake your head, feeling a mixture of gratitude and concern. “I appreciate that, Wonyoung, but I don’t want you to get in trouble with my dad. You’re doing a great job, and I don’t want to cause any issues.”

Wonyoung’s expression turns serious. “Your dad is already aware of the situation. He respects that I’ve been handling things, but he also knows how much the company means to you. I don’t want to overstep, but I’m offering this because I believe it’s what you want.”

You sigh, feeling conflicted. “I don’t want you to be stuck with the burden if you’re not comfortable. And I don’t want to be the reason you end up in trouble.”

Wonyoung reaches out, placing a comforting hand on yours. “It’s not about burden or trouble. It’s about supporting each other. If you want to take it back, I’ll make sure everything is smooth. But if you don’t, that’s okay too. I just want you to be happy.”

You look at her, the sincerity in her eyes making it hard to keep your guard up. “Thank you. That means a lot.”

The conversation shifts to lighter topics, and you both laugh over shared stories and memories. The comfort and ease between you are palpable, a stark contrast to the awkwardness that used to define your interactions. As the evening progresses, you find yourself feeling more at ease, more willing to open up.

Wonyoung stands to clear the dishes, and you follow her into the kitchen, where you continue chatting about trivial matters. The soft clinking of plates and the hum of the dishwasher create a soothing backdrop to your conversation.

As you’re drying the last dish, you turn to Wonyoung, your heart racing slightly. “Wonyoung, there’s something I’ve been wanting to tell you.”

She looks at you with curiosity. “What is it?”

Just as you open your mouth to speak, the phone rings loudly from the living room. The sound is jarring, and you both look at each other in frustration.

Wonyoung gives you an apologetic look. “Sorry, I should get that.”

You nod, trying to hide your disappointment. “Sure.”

Wonyoung answers the phone, her voice becoming distant as she steps into the other room. The warmth and intimacy of the moment are broken, replaced by the distant sound of her conversation.

You stand in the kitchen, feeling a pang of frustration. The confession you were about to make now seems like a distant dream, overshadowed by the interruption. You feel like you’ve let your guard down too soon, and the moment of connection is lost.

Wonyoung returns after a few minutes, her expression apologetic. “It was just a call from the office. Sorry about that.”

You force a smile, though your heart feels heavy. “It’s okay.”

You both return to the living room, the conversation picking up where it left off, but the closeness you felt earlier seems elusive now. As you sit there, you can’t help but feel a sense of missed opportunity, the words you were about to share still lingering unspoken.

Wonyoung sits beside you, her presence still comforting but the moment’s warmth has dissipated. You lie back on the couch, the blanket pulled around you, trying to push aside the frustration of the interruption.

Wonyoung glances at you, her eyes searching yours. “Are you sure you’re okay? You seemed like you were about to say something important.”

You nod, though you’re still feeling the weight of the unspoken words. “Yeah, just… another time.”

254 notes · View notes

punkeropercyjackson · 5 months ago

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The treatment of Momo by Bnha fans is fucking horrifying.Within canon while it's true Horikoshi sexualizes her,it's still said multiple times she's still a child-Aizawa literally SAID she's still mentally a 15 year old girl and rn she's only 16.In the same episode,Shouto recognizes he's been accidentally been ignoring her emotional needs and feels awful about so he makes it up to her with the 'One of those vote's was mine!' speech and always looking out for and taking care of her from then on because he thinks she deserves it and loves her as a person.It's also canon Momo is as is important to him as Izuku is,hates Bakugou due to his extreme toxic masculinity,wasn't allowed to be a real kid to be raised to be the perfect proper lady instead,has her own unique diverse dynamics with other girls and gets anxiety attacks when treated as older than she is

And YET.Everybody calls her a mom.She gets defanged of her 'silk hiding steel' archetype to replace it with her being a doormart in female form,which is what society thinks women should be.Her goofy silly side that comes out when she's happy like the 'bouncy Momo' moment when her classmates asked her for help with classes and she took it as an excuse to bring them over to her house because she's just a little girl who wanted to play with her friends is completely erased to make her the wet blanket.Her naivetee is flanderized from not understanding social norms and normal teenage girls to her being essentially born sexy yesterday.Todomomo is downplayed nonstop with the 'cisheteronormativity' excuse by white gays who don't know what trans love is and that Momo is as autistic-coded as Shouto because they think autism is a boydisorder.Todomomo is considered a Bakugou involved triangle,the ONLY guy Momo's age she actively hates and that told Shouto he dosen't care he was abused and treats him that way too with zero remorse for either.Her girl ships are turned into background token wlw for the creators to prove they're not misogynists only to out themselves as deadass lesbophobes.Dadzawa and Momo gets jackshit and so does Fatgum Intern Momo despite all the posts she should've been one with the 'women❤that's enough feminism for today i think' ahh beat.All the her and Dabi content is him being a pedophile as he's not literally a child by r*pe who hates his dad for being abusive and as if they don't have tons of potential for being platonic soulmates and found siblings,including that Momo's love interest is Dabi's little brother so they'd literally be in-laws so it all comes together and i've met exactly one person that recognizes the sisterly potential with her and Himiko and nobody's ever brought the parallel between Shouto and Himiko becoming obsessed with Momo and Ochako for the same reason(their specific hero skills)but the stark contrast in dynamics

It's INSANE the way she's potrayed in fanon vs how she actually is and her untappedness that has so much range.Bnha fans not only saw the misogyny and treated it as a part of it instead of a flaw but somehow made it WORSE.LIKE WAY WORSE,FOR MOMO MOST OF ALL!!!!!!Y'all ain't ever making it out of the patriarchy

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darcydarlingdabbles · 3 months ago

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Predators and Prey

༺･⋆Tav x Astarion x Halsin ⋆༺･ Explicit ⋆༺･ 4k

Fem!Tav, Just a lil primal play fun~ //Thanks so much for 100 followers~ here's a little reader request to celebrate//

༺･✼───☆───✼･༻

Tav’s pulse quickened as she pressed against the stone wall of Wyrm’s Rock. The rough bricks were cold against her skin this late into the night—but the feeling had nothing on the thrill of anticipation coursing through her veins.

She should be inside. In bed. Readying for the next day’s adventure.

Not out on the grounds, playing a game of cat and mouse. But Tav was never one to resist the siren call of danger.

The sensation already had her soaring, dancing on the knifes edge between peace and peril as she darted to the next group of shadows along the wall.

Her soft-soled shoes were silent on the dewy grass—more quiet than the rustling of the satin dress she wore. It was better protection than just wearing her chemise out in the wilds, but just barely. She missed her light armor already.

A flicker of movement caught her luminous eyes, and Tav’s breath caught in her throat.

She’d know that lean figure anywhere, even silhouetted against the starry sky over the cliffs around the Rock.

He’d dressed far better than she for their game, but then he always did. The deadly elegance of her vampire in the dark already had heat seeping into Tav.

“Well, well,” Astarion purred, his voice like silk over steel. “What do we have here?”

That predatory look in his crimson eyes was about to freeze her like a fawn.

And, from the slow smile spreading across his lips, giving just the barest hint of his fangs—he knew.

Tav tried to hide the delighted shiver that ran up her spine, composing her face into one of surprise as she turned towards him.

“A lost little mouse, scurrying about where she doesn’t belong?” The vampire continued, his grin rather like a tomcat in an alleyway.

“I happen to think.” Tav cocked a hand on her hip, as he was still a safe distance from her. Though she eyed the rising cliff along the wall of the Rock—it made a perfect alley way. “That I’m exactly where I want to be.”

The vampire nearly broke. She saw the way he rolled his ruby eyes, even as he shook his head indulgently.

“Is that so?” Astarion chuckled, the sound low and dangerous, “And what makes you so bold enough to venture out on a night like this?” He took a step closer, measured and radiating a predatory grace that titillated Tav. “There are monsters in the dark, you know.”

Tav’s pulse raced into her pointed ears, but forced a note of innocence into her voice. “Oh, I must have…just wandered away from the party. This Rock is such a maze.”

The vampire cut through the shadows like a blade, closing the distance between them.

“You wouldn’t happen to know the way back in, would you?” Tav asked sweetly.

Astarion had gotten closer now, enough for her to look up through her lashes at him.

“Now, now.” He murmured, his voice dripping like honeyed venom. “Is the little lamb as lost as she pretends to be?”

He circled her slowly, cornering her with the stone wall against her back.

Tav’s heart raced in her chest, caught between the tingle of peril…and the magnetic pull of his presence. Astarion had always been stunning with the moonlight filtering through his white curls—but now his ethereal allure was only heightened by an aura of peril.

“Or, perhaps…” he continued, leaning in close enough that she could feel the coolness of his breath on her skin, “you were hoping to find something out here, in the dark.”

Tav swallowed hard, her mind racing along with her pulse—and she wondered if he could hear it. “I... I’m not sure what you mean.”

“Oh, I think you do,” he purred, his words a seductive poison.

Astarion’s laugh was low and rich, sending shivers down her spine. He was too good at this; she wanted to give in already.

Tav still tried to sidestep Astarion. “ I really should be getting back to—”

In a heartbeat, the vampire pounced. He pinned her against the rough brick wall, his body eclipsing hers, capturing her. “Leave? But a delicious little thing like you shouldn’t wander off on your own,” he whispered, his lips brushing her ear.

A small gasp escaped Tav’s lips, desire flooding her senses. She wriggled against him, torn between fleeing and melting into his clutches.

Suddenly, she felt the frigid touch of metal under her chin. Astarion had drawn his dagger, and she could feel the flat side of the blade against her skin, forcing her gaze up.

“Look at me,” Astarion commanded quietly, his voice mesmerizing. “And tell me you want to run. I dare you.”

Their eyes locked, and Tav felt those crimson eyes threaten to drag her in and drown her.

Tav’s breath caught in her throat. She tried to speak, but couldn’t get her lips around more than little parts of words. And an audible shiver when the vampire braced a hand against the wall, right next to her head.

Astarion was all fangs and smirk as he caught Tav’s dilated stare.

“I can hear it, darling.” He ducked his head, slowly, his lips teasing the skin before her ear with every tantalizing word. “The rush of your pulse.” His mouth drew down the line of Tav’s neck. “The little patter of your heart racing.”

Tav let out a gasp that hitched into a whine as Astarion let the edge of his teeth graze her prickling skin. Each brush sent a little electric jolt. Making her lids flutter half-closed, her resolve crumbing with each teasing touch.

She felt the blonde smirk against her neck. No doubt thinking he’d won the game before it even started.

Tav’s hand, that had been trapped between their chests, gave a half-hearted effort to push him away. Just to be rewarded with the pressure of a proper bite, nearly breaking her skin. Teetering her further towards the brink of surrender.

When, suddenly, heavy footsteps clattered gracelessly through the night air, and rending the spell between them with the clank of armor.

A guard was approaching.

In that breath of hesitation, Tav seized her chance to flee. She twisted free of Astarion’s grasp and his blade, darting into the shadows of the nearby cliffs. Headed for the deep woods.

Astarion’s dark chuckle followed her. “Run, run, little lamb.”

The chase had only begun.

༺･✼───☆───✼･༻

Tav’s feet pounded against the cliffs as she raced into the forest surrounding Wyrm’s Rock.

Branches reached out into the cool night air, grabbing at her soft dress like claws grasping in the dark. Despite her pounding heart, she could help the wild grin that spread across her face.

Astarion was far behind her—he was too damn proud of his composure to run out into the wilds.

She just might have gotten away.

Tav pushed through the disappointment and the burn in her muscles. Escaping was always a thrill, even if her skin still tingled with the lingering of the vampire’s wintry touch. It all swirled into a heady rush that spurred her onward.

As she ran further and further away from the Rock, the dense foliage began to thin.

Tav found herself in a small clearing, the moonlight casting eerie shadows between the columns of the trees. Her chest was heaving. Every breath felt like a greedy gulp of air.

The forest was quiet, save for the gentle rustle of leaves in the breeze.

No sign of pursuit, no glimpse of that infuriatingly handsome smirk. Leaving her with the feeling of triumph…and disappointment.

Maybe Tav should have held back a bit more. She had been hoping for more of a chase—and bending over to keep catching her breath might just leave her vulnerable to—

A low, rumbling growl echoed throughout the clearing.

Her heart lept up into her throat as she spun around to face the massive bear emerging from the shadows.

But it wasn’t his size that got her pulse racing all over again, or the soft brown fur that turned nearly silver in the moonlight. It was his gaze. Intelligent, familiar, sparkling mischief.

No ordinary bear had bedroom eyes like that.

“Halsin…” Tav grinned, rocking back on her heels, like she was going to make another run for it.

The bear gave an unmistakable playful growl and launched after her. With surprising agility for an animal his size, Tav found herself pinned to the ground. Soft grass at her back and the hulking mass of fur blotting out the starry night sky above her. “Oof!” she exclaimed, breathless but still grinning. “You big old softie!” She accused playfully.

Her surprise at being knocked down so damn quickly melted into delight. She wriggled under the wildshape, still having plenty of room to breathe—damn graceful despite how large he was.

Tav wrapped her arms around the bear’s hulking head, laughing with a little grunt at the feeling of his wet and warm snout pushing into the crook of her shoulder and her neck, taking in her scent with loud huffs through his maw.

She could feel the bear’s heart beating against her own.

“Sneaky old druid.” Tav teased affectionately, planting a kiss against the tip of his nose.

The bear made another deep rumbling sound in his throat, that Tav could have sworn was laughter.

“You know, I think you might be even cuddlier in this shape.” Tav teased as her fingers combed through his thick fur, nuzzling close as her fingers petted the fluffy ears.

A sardonic voice cut through warmth of the moment.

“Going to be swapping saliva with bears now, are we?” the vampire tsked, though his red eyes gleamed with sheer amusement. “I knew you had a thing for beastly lovers.”

Tav’s attention snapped up to see Astarion materializing from the shadows. Pale form glowing in the midnight moonlight, with a bit of irritation curling his perfect lips.

“Well, since it took you so very long to catch up.” She swuirmed her way from under Halsin to sit up. “I was beginning to think you’d given up the chase.”

“My dear, I do not run unless something is chasing me, ” Astarion’s lips curled into a wry smile, glancing over the bear. “And I do not concede to prey.”

Tav grinned at the vampire and she felt that same rumbling laugh from where the bear still had her legs pinned to the soft grass.

“Though I must say I did not expect the archdruid to take your little game quite so literally.” Astarion said casually, as he was examining his fingernails.

“What can I say? I like my big and hairy men.” Tav shot right back.

Halsin gave a snort.

And the vampire scoffed, even as a flicker of jealousy crossed his ruby gaze.

As if he could expect anything less than the usual barbs they traded. Always fining a way to get other each other’s skins.

The bear gave another thundering growl, his massive head suddenly turning its attention to Astarion.

Tav felt it, the bulky body full of muscle coiling to spring . Halsin lunged at Asarion, playfully pouncing on him. Making the pale elf’s features a perfect painting of shock as he toppled backwards underneath a mountain of fur.

“What in the bloody Nine Hells are you doing!” Astarion spluttered, his composure shattered.

The bear’s form shimmered before Tav’s eyes and shifted. Halsin’s hulking frame replaced it—hardly smaller than the damn wildshape, pinning Astarion to the grass.

“My friend, you need to learn to enjoy yourself.” Halsin said in his resonnate voice, a smile on his lips as he leaned over the prim and proper elf. “And let your natural instincts guide you.”

Astarion’s haughty expression looked like there was a retort right on the edge of his lips—until it was replaced with Halsin’s mouth on his.

The vampire seemed as stunned as Tav was. Until his pale fingers tangled into Halsin’s hair, holding him close as the kiss took on a new, desperate edge. Leaving Tav to deal with her own surge of jealousy and arousal dancing around in her veins.

She could just…join them. Concede the game and give in and have both of their mouths on her at last.

Or, Tav could seize this opportunity to escape.

The chance was too good not to take.

Tav got her feet under her. With one last look at the two elves entangled along the forest floor, she darted from the treeline and bolted into the darkness of the forest.

“Gods dammit, you let her get away, you insufferable oaf.” Astarion’s frustrated huff followed her.

“Patience.” Halsin’s calm, deep voice was still tinged with amusement. “The chase is half the fun, is it not?”

Tav grinned to herself as she sprinted deeper into the woods, her heart pounding with exhilaration. The game was far from over.

She’d gotten her second wind, and was ready to make another run, with both elve’s chasing her. The idea was absolutely thrilling, and she desperately wanted to. Her soft shoes were already pounding against the soft earth. Freedom was so close she could taste it—and Tav was just about to think about what she would ask for when she claimed her victory.

When the ground beneath her soles erupted. Thick, ropey, ensnaring vines shot up from the earth, wrapping around her ankles and calves, stopping all of her movement. She let out a yelp, only the trap spell keeping her from falling forward as they tightened their strangling grips.

“What the fuck?!” she gasped, struggling against the botanical bonds, trying and failing to escape.

“Well now, I must give it to you, clever druid.” Astarion’s silky voice purred as two sets of footsteps reached Tav. “You’ve set up a snare for our little rabbit to run right into.”

Tav whipped around towards their familiar chuckles just to see the vampire sauntering into view. Halsin was right at his side, his foot steps just as graceful despite the wood elf’s much bigger and bulkier frame.

“Well, glad to finally have your approval of my handiwork.” Halsin chuckled, though he was far from offended from the smile on his face.

Tav had to admit, with begrudging admiration, that it was pretty fucking clever. Though she tried to keep her lips in a sour twist as she looked up at the two men already approaching her, starting to circle from opposite ends, like the hunters they were.

“I suppose it was too much to hope the two of you would play fair.” She pouted, tugging at the vines once again. More out of stubbornness than any real hope of escape.

“We were to embrace our natural gifts and prowess, yes?” Halsin said, stopping in front of Tav with an indulgent grin on his lips that touched the scars across his face. “I believe I have played well by the rules we have set.”

Tav had to admit, yes, that he was right. They hadn’t set any rules other than non-lethal. But she was stopped by cool lips at her ears.

“Where’s the fun in life without a few clever tricks up our sleeves?” Astarion laughed, the sound rich and melodious and making a tickling feeling across her ear and neck.

She was having trouble hiding how her body thrilled the closer Astarion circled. Her vampire’s presence was always intoxicating—his scent an enticing blend of rosemary, bergamot, brandy…and something darker. More primal.

Never overshadowed by Halsin’s smell of sweet honey and raw might.

“I could still make a run for it.” Tav taunted back, even as her voice became lower with her growing need. “This spell won’t last forever.”

Astarion gave a dark chuckle, his fingers tracing a slow, teasing path down her arm where her sleeve had been ripped away—maybe in the chase, she hadn’t even noticed. “We don’t need to keep you here forever, little lamb…just long enough to…tire you out.”

Tav’s heart was dancing away in her chest as her eyes found the hunger in Astarion’s. Beyond mere thirst.

It was a desire to devour her.

“That a challenge?” Tav asked, though her voice was barely stronger than a whisper.

“Consider it a promise.” Astarion said, with a feral grin.

“I see you’ve both found my little surprise.” Halsin appeared at Tav’s side, a smug smile playing on his lips. “I trust it was... effective?”“You know, sometimes I forget that you’re not just a pretty face.” Tav quipped.

Halsin’s grin widened, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Apretty face? Well, I have my moments.

“If you two are finished with this…rather juvenile display of flirting.” Astarion’s gaze flicked between the two of them, a slow, calculated smile spreading across his face. “ Shall we see what other surprises the night has in store?”

Tav found herself delightfully trapped between two powerful predators, and still ensnared in the vines wrapped around her legs.

Astarion’s lips seized hers, a tempest of passion and need, while Halsin’s fingertips dug into her loose, light clothing like a bear’s claws, igniting a trail of goosebumps in their wake. Their primal yearning for her radiated from them like heat from a roaring fire, an intoxicating elixi she was dying for more of.

Astarion pulled back from her mouth with a protest from her lips, only to be replaced by Halsin. And his kisses dripping like wild honey.

A gasp escaped Tav, her fingers instinctively tangling in the vampire’s white curls as he worked their way down her throat.

The harsh sound of tearing fabric echoed around the little clearing them as they clawed at each other’s clothing in desperate urgency for more touch, more to hold.

Tav felt it the moment the delicate goosebumps became the sting of scratches along her back and her arms—but it only amplified the rawness of the desire gnawing at her. .

Suddenly, Halsin was behind her, his grip solid on her hips, the druid holding her flush against the mountain of muscle. As pale, nimble fingers and the flash of a blade drew down the front of her dress. Slicing the fabric and ripping it wide.

Bearing her heated skin to the moonlight, and the men around her.

Her heart pounded in her chest, feeling claws and teeth and fangs over every inch of bare skin—devoured like the trapped prey she was.

Astarion was taking one of her breasts into his mouth, while Halsin pawed at her other, his kisses biting for the wood elf. Feeling like he might just devour her first.

Tav let out a sound of pure, visceral want—as she felt a hand slide dexterously under the grasp of the magical vines.

Astarion’s deft fingers quickly rid her of the scraps of her clothing, sinking into the heat between her legs. Tav gasped aloud, realizing, for the first time, that she was soaked with her own arousal.

“Well now,” that shit-eating purr was right in her ears. She couldn’t keep her eyes open, but she didn’t need to know the cocky grin on her vampire’s lips. “Our poor little thing is drenched.”

His fingers toyed with her, making Tav writhe in the hold of everything that bound her. Skimming over her clit and delving into her pussy with a smirk.

“I think we should have mercy on our little lamb, don’t you, druid?”

Tav whined breathlessly as she clenched at Astarion, begging him to move, to thrust, to do anything.

“Now my friend,” The wood elf’s deep voice said somewhere over her shoulder, though even he sounded breathless. “The rules were set…our prey has to beg.”

Astarion laughed and Tav trembled as a fresh wave of arousal spilled over his fingers at hearing Halsin—sweet, gentle Halsin saying those filthy words like he was so certain of them.

Her eyes flew open as a hand wrapped in her braid, the vampire pulling her hair to tug her head back.

“You heard him, pet.” The ruby red eyes gleamed. “Beg.”

“Please!” Tav didn’t even managed a dignified hesitation. Please fell from her lips like water. Desperate. Wild. Needing them both.

“With pleasure.” Astarion smirked. And Halsin growled.

The next thing she knew, her knees were meeting the soft grass of the clearing. The shreds of her clothing laying tattered in the grass as the elves surrounded her.

Halsin’s hulking frame loomed over her back, drawing his blunt nails down her spine as he bent her over. Manhandling her into place like she weighed nothing—like she was nothing more than a bitch in heat, poised to be mounted.

No clever words or quips came to Tav’s lips. Nothing but inarticulate little begging whines. As finally, finally, she felt the blunt head of the druid’s thick cock pressed against her entrance.

“Please.” Tav forced her lips around the word, so he knew how desperately she wanted him to just fuck her.

And she was rewarded, deliciously, with the girth of Halsin’s cock stretching her pussy full Pleasure overwhelmed Tav. She nearly tumbled into her bliss right then and there.

“That’s it little one, you can take it.” Halsin purred over her back as Tav nearly vibrated out of her skin with impatience. She dug her fingers into the Earth, bucking her hips eagerly back against the druid.

“Oh, I think she’s more than ready.” Astarion grinned above her. Tav blinked, looking up to see the rich fabric of his trouses before her—no doubt gaining grass stains along his knees.

His pale fingers grabbed her braid, her hair wrapping around her pale wrist in a way that thrilled her. Until the snap of Halsin’s hips drove every other thought from Tav’s mind.

Her mouth fell open with her moans, just as the tip of Astarion’s cock pressed to her lips.

“Going to be a good pet?”

Tav didn’t let him finish. She eagerly sucked the length of the vampire’s cock right down her throat.

She could feel herself spiraling out of control as their actions triggered waves upon waves within her. The thrust of Halsin’s cock driving Astarion deeper down her throat, only for the vampire’s pull on her hair to drag her off the edge of the druid’s cock.

They moved together; bodies intertwined in an ancient dance that led Tav to an overwhelming crescendo. Warmed as the filled her with their essences.

As she slipped from the euphoria, she found herself enveloped by their warmth; their breaths intermingling with hers beneath the silent canopy overhead.

Astarion’s gaze met hers; a languid smile dancing on his lips. “Was it everything you wished for, love?”

Tav returned the grin; her body still resonating. “And even more.” Halsin’s arms encased them both, drawing them closer to him.

“A glorious experience of the beauty and power of raw nature.” Halsin hummed.

“Oh please, now is certainly time for your poetry, old man.” Astarion huffed, though he settled into the druid’s crushing grip.

The night air was thick with the scent of sweat and desire, their labored breaths punctuating the silence around them.

Tav lay nestled between Halsin and Astarion, their bodies slick with exertion and tangled in an intimate knot.

As she threaded her fingers through Astarion’s damp curls, a sense of awe washed over her. The intensity of their coupling left her breathless, her heartbeat a wild crescendo within her chest.

“I never thought I’d find myself here,” Astarion quipped with a hint of sarcasm.

Tav looked up at him with a playful smile. “And where is here?”

“Well, sharing a bed with a ranger and a wood elf wasn’t exactly on my bucket list,” he replied, grinning down at her.

Halsin’s arms tightened around them both; his satisfied sigh filling the air. “An experience I will cherish for the rest of my days,” he murmured warmly.

Tav nodded in agreement; her heart brimming over with love and gratitude for these two men who had brought more joy into her life than she ever thought possible.

As sleep began to claim her, she knew she would do anything to keep them safe, in turn.

#thank you so much!#I'm sorry it took me so long #smut block is a thing #astarion #astarion x tav #astarion x halsin x tav #primal play #primal kink #bg3 astarion #astarion x reader #biting #marking #captured #A moment with the bear

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the-fiction-witch · 3 months ago

Text

Princess Of Darkness

Chapter One Sit The Throne

The family had gathered, in the throne room. With Lords and Ladies to bear witness to the proceedings ahead. The tall hall echoed with shuffling feet and shifting silk, the muttering of theories and speculation. Rumour had also begun to shift among those whom knew its meaning, they said a spark of fire was seen across the night sky the evening prior whispers of Rhaperzys in the halls. But far more important matters took president today.

The throne sat empty with the hand of the King, Otto Hightower standing beside it.

On one side stood the Greens, Alicent at its head holding the hands of her children Aegon and Aemond, in a gown of deep regal green a star of the seven around her neck. Her children loomed around her Heleana the most distance from her mother.

On the other far across the hall stood the blacks, Rhaenyra and her husband Daemon both dressed in black and red Targaryen colours with dragon embroidery and armoured scales, a valriyan steel necklace around the princess' neck. Their children were around them Lucerys clutching his mother's hand.

In the centre stands Vaemond Velayron, Rhaenys and Baela in deep blues but still black within their clothes.

Three rules of three lands, Of Kings Landing, Of Dragonstone, Of Driftmark. All here for a single purpose, to make it known before lords and all ears who can hear it. Who is heir to what titles and where.

"Let us begin this, then," Otto demanded,

Rhaenyra was first to step forward, leaving Lucerys hand to walk to the centre staring down at the throne she was promised so long ago, "Need I remind the court, that less than twenty years ago in this very-"

But before the meeting can even really begin the doors open wide and the sunken withered figure of the king is seen.

"King Viserys of House Targaryen!" The king's guard announced, "The first of his name, king of the andals, and the roynar, and the first men. Lord of the seven kingdoms and protector of the realm."

The clacking sound of viserys cane echos through the hall louder than any dragon cry, the sound seems to grow only louder as he walks and the room around him silences, like bells on a clocktower ringing out to all in attendance, ringing out the time that soon was looming.

Colour drained from all those in attendance, expressions of shock, surprise and fear.

His mask hides his face but shimmers with his crown in the candlelight, his breaths heard even over his cane.

When he walks he doesn't glance at his wife queen Alicent even if she looks at him with desperation, he does look at his daughter the princess Rhaenyra their eyes meeting for the first real time in what had felt like years, yet his brother Daemon couldn't bare to meet the eyes of his brother and his king.

"I... I will sit the throne today." King Viserys decreed giving Otto the demand without a shred of doubt to his tone,

"You're grace," Otto nodded taking his leave to stand with his daughter,

King Viserys continues but the steps of the throne begin to weaken him, his king's guard attempts to assist but he forces the man away brushing him off with a simple "I'm fine." But only two more steps and his breath fails him, his body clutching to the cane in hand to keep him from falling,

The crown slips from his head, and the sound of the metal hitting stone echoes out silencing every breath in the room, the time between felt like hours to all in attendance.

But, in a mercy for his brother Prince Daemon moves swiftly from his wife and children, and picks up the crown in hand,

"I said I'm fine," Viserys demands until his eyes meet his brother,

A thousand words are shared between their eyes in the second that they meet, a lifetime of unspoken things pours out like a broken damn, but all that leaves the princes' lips is, "Come on." In a hushed whisper so low not even the king's guard would hear him.

Viserys agrees and slowly takes each step with Daemon's support, before finally he sits on the Iron throne.

Daemon doesn't even hesitate to straighten the crown and place it upon his brother's frail head,

Only then does Viserys let out a clear breath,

Daemon doesn't speak another word simply making his way back down the steps and beside his wife.

"I... must admit... my confusion... I do not understand... why potions are to be heard... about a settled succession.." King Viserys asks in the best voice he can muster,

Alicent picks at her nails secretly, as she tries to bite back her words.

"The only one present, who might offer keener insight, into lord Corlys wishes is the Princess Rhaenys."

"Indeed your grace," Rhaenys spoke briefly her eyes met Veamond before she walked forward with slow and tender steps,

Rhaenyra, grimaced trying to hide her concern for the words to come from Rhaenys,

"it was ever my husband's will that Driftmark would pass through Ser Leanor, to his true born son Lucerys Velaryon. His mind never changed... nor did my support of him." she said, "As a matter of fact the princess Rhaenyra has just informed me of her desire to marry her sons Jace and Luke to Corlys granddaughters Beala and Rhaena. A proposal to which I heartily agree."

"Well... the matter is settled again. I hereby reaffirm, My heir As Princess Rhaenyra of house Targaryen, her heir in turn Jacaerys Velayon. And Lucerys of house Velayon heir to Driftmark, the driftwood throne and the next lord of the tides."

Rhaenyra takes the hand of her son Luke once more with a smile across her lips,

Rhaenys returns to her place beside her granddaughter Beala,

Alicent finds her words choked in her throat, begging for a moment to speak but the words never come.

But this moment is broken.

When the doors of the throne room are opened once more with a heavy thud, to reveal a figure long since forgotten.

Mutterings and whispers begin among the lords and ladies, Jaws drop, and eyes widen by all in attendance.

Disbelief washes over the faces of Otto, Alicent, Rhaenyra and Rhaenys.

Confusuion over Jacacerys, Lucerys, Baela, Rhaena, Aegon, Helaena and Aemond.

But she makes no time for gawking,

She walks, her steps are purposeful and firm but without a single sound, so as she steps you barely see change in the fabric or her body as if she doesn't walk but hovers over the stone.

Her gown is a long trumpet skirt of black silks and organza that trails a good few inches behind her, a boned bodice of deep purple almost black textured fabric, with a V neckline that reaches her stomach laced with black ribbon, black cold shoulder inner sleeves reach down to her hands gracefully pinned around her thumbs with sheer purple outer sleeves that drapes down to the floor, she wore a long silver necklace with a single start pendant, as well as a gauntlet on each wrist.

On her back a sheathed greatsword with a silver star pommel, a purple grip with silver spiral beaded into the handle.

Long elegant dark hair littered with silver star pins, with two streaks of Valyrian pale blonde that framed her face.

And the deepest purple eyes seen in ten generations.

"Who is that?" Lucerys whispers to his mother,

"...That..." Rhaenyra struggles to answer,

"That is Lady Astra of house Dayne," Daemon answers for her,

"We need to leave." Rhaenyra forced out the words quietly,

Astra walked eyes firmly on the throne, without giving a glance to all those who loomed before her.

When she finally reached the steps of the Iron throne she curtsied slow and low almost to her knees, her eyes never once leaving the crown and throne.

"Your Grace," She said, "Hello Uncle."

Commissions here

#house targaryen #house of the dragon #house of velaryon #house of targaryen #houseofthedragon #hotd jacaerys #hotd fanfic #hotd fanfiction #hotd fandom #hotd #hotd aemond #hotd aegon #hotd daemon #hotd lucerys #hotd team green #hotd team black

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rarestdoll · 11 months ago

Text

a sight for sore eyes (prologue)

prompt: mizu just can't seem to escape you no matter how hard she tries, even in her dreams

tags: wlw, lesbian, 18+, black fem!reader, using she/he pronouns for mizu, they/them for reader!

warnings: none yet! nsfw in later chapters!

mizu cries out as her face meets dirt yet again, the cool soil in her eyes and mouth doing nothing to ground her from her insatiable thoughts. she's distracted, mind gripping onto the sight of smooth brazen skin and even softer hair, focused on the way silk flies around her like the erratic fluttering of spring butterflies that she doesn't even realize she's flying through the air again until the press of sharp steel homes itself against the column of her throat.

"it's my round again, mizu. i almost feel like you are letting me win which is not exactly fair since we are supposed to be sparring. but it seems like your head is elsewhere, am i correct or is the blue eyed samurai going soft on me?" steel slides under the angle of her chin, craning her head skyward until it lays against the brim of her hat, forcing blue to meet brown and mizu bites down the shiver threatening to rack up her spine.

"no i have not gone soft, i am only a little distracted today but that does not hinder me from training. come on, up again. i need to get a few more hours in before we finish for today." mizu mutters, flicking the midsection of the sword so that the blade steers away from her head. that's not entirely the truth but anything to hide the fact that she just got her ass handed to her without her opponent really trying.

"you know i do not appreciate it when you take pity on me. i've seen you in battle many times and yet you almost never fight the same whenever we choose to fight one another." the steel slides away back into its sheath with a light sigh. mizu almost laughs at the accusation, inner voice yelling at her to just come out with what's truly holding her back but instead she settles for a partial lie.

"i do not take pity, i only retaliate. your stance is too soft and your blows too clumsy. now up again so we can finish our training for today and then we will take a trip to the hot spring nearby to wash the day away to settle for the night. we have a long day ahead of us tomorrow, there is no time for playing." she edges, pulling herself to a stand as she readjusts her glasses on her nose to take stance again. time is not to be wasted if they wanted to catch a ride back to town tomorrow.

“as you wish, mizu”

a/n: HIII i finally got inspo to write again! i just got finished watching blue eyed samurai and mizu has been plaguing my mind so here! this is gna be a bit of a slow burn and nsfw will come later, this first part will be the prologue n then ill post chapter one some time later today/tomorrow! ^__^ ♡

#♡ navigation #mizu x reader #mizu blue eye samurai #blue eyed samurai #wlw #blue eyed samurai smut #🧁

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did-we-imagine · 1 year ago

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Urzai shippers be like: "We shall make Ozai thr father of all of Ursa's children." 🤣😂

I think it's interesting and it could've made for entertaining dynamics (urzai - star crossed lovers edition? Quite tragic since Ursa was banished while pregnant, did she know it yet or not?), but the way Ursa was portrayed in the comics (look, I don't dig her vibe there) aka terrified woman, doesn't allow for charitable interpretations IMO.

On a more meta level, headcanons aside, there is a precedent set by 2 other powerful benders who come descend from nonbending parents : Katara and Toph. 🤷🏻‍♀️ There even was a pair of twins with one bender and one nonbender. So Kiyi being a powerful bender could be just a random incident.

I think Kiyi being Ozai's child would be more likely if the age gap between her and the sibs is smaller and closer to their age when Ursa was banished (10~11 yo with Zuko, 8~9 yo with Azula).

I also think that the writers made her visually distinct from her siblings to drive the point home, she has darker skin and lighter hair like Ikem. Or am I mistaken ?

So you know how Kiyi is a good firebender

At a very young age, when other kids her age aren't shown even firebending and actual adults don't have that power level?

Even tho neither of her "parents" are firebenders?

I have good news

#kiyi is ozai's child #kiyi #but is she?#i personally don't hate kiyi #she's cute #but i don't see her importance plotwise #i don't like the idea of a replacement daughter all that much #but unfortunately judging by the past comics the authors were headed *that* way #i'd prefer an ursa who stayed single & ended up with hakoda somehow 🤡 zutara parent version lmao #like idk the whole she had a lover she got stolen from blah blah blah and she was a peasant doesn't satisfy me all that much #give manipulative cunning ursa who wants to restore her family's glory because her grandfather roku was a noble #and she is not happy with the fact that they got demoted because he was deemed a “traitor”#ffs you can't tell me that in 2 generations her family faded in total anonymity to the point where azulon had to actively search for her #idk for you guys but seriously she is a character with so much potential #i personally really love the HC that she is a silk hiding steel type #and that she would absolutely go feral and try to put one of her kids on the throne #or maybe that's just my watching magnificent century excerpts and being influenced lmao #my ramblings #urzai #ursa

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annachum · 6 months ago

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Cosette and radical gentleness

So there is a bunch of variations of ' radicalism ' in Les Mis - radical martyrdom from Fantine, radical Rebellion against injustices from Enjolras, radical redemption and survival from Eponine, etc

But what about radical gentleness?

What about the one thing that Cosette chose to be radical about despite all that that has happened to her?

Cosette chose to be radically gentle as a way to help her heal from traumas, as a way to be an antithesis of the hate and cruelty Monsieur and Madame Thenardier stand for, as a self defense armor from chaos around her

Radical gentleness can literally be a powerful tool of self defense especially in tough times

But please do not mistake gentleness for weakness - some of the gentlest people one may ever meet are actually amongst the strongest. I mean, look at Cosette and Sansa, for starters

Cosette becomes an epitome of Silk Hiding Steel, and her calm energy not only gives a sense of solace to several others, it reminds several others that there is more to life than just barricades, that there CAN be peace even within chaos.

That there can be hope Even in darkness.

#radical gentleness #cosette #silk hiding steel #cosette is a badass cinnamon roll #radicalism in multiple ways in les mis #several les mis really take some things they value to great heights #cosette is never meant to be a martyr #her mom literally died being a martyr #why should cosette purposefully risk her life in a similar way?#all fantine wants is peace and comfort for her daughter!#and cosette embraces that peacefulness she found cuz she knows thats what her mom would have wanted #cosette can feel her mom's spirit around her often!#she never forgot what she been through #if anything that also made her merciful

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sadlvrgrrl · 1 year ago

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𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 (𝐅𝐔𝐋𝐋 𝐕𝐄𝐑.)

a daemon targaryen love story

Every night, when the moon is full and bright, he dreams of the one he calls his light.

disclaimer: daemon is extremely ooc

𝘸𝘤: 723

・❥・

𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐋𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭

Daemon Targaryen, the rogue prince of Westeros was far from pure. He was ruthless, stubborn, arrogant, and most of all, powerful. His blood was equivalent to a dragon, forged from the fiery pits of the seven hells. He was the deliverer of chaos and destruction, and no one was able to tame his savage inferno.

All until one; her.

She was the epitome of ethereal, a beauty so delicate, so pure in a way that she was too perfect for this world— too perfect for him. She was an angel forged of the purest light with hair as bright as the moon, skin as white as snow, and her eyes—

her eyes held magic.

Full of light, full of innocence, full of stars.

Starry eyes that had him hypnotized.

Starry eyes that made him stumble, but it was her smile that made him fall.

Starry eyes that had him vow to do anything in his power to keep their light kindle endlessly.

She was a blessing from the gods. A wish upon a shooting star. If he could, he would tear the whole world apart just to rebuild it brick by brick to a standard he deemed worthy of her existence. Worthy of her light— worthy of his light; Celethiel.

・❥・

Daemon follows the elen wisps through a sprawling forest, letting them guide his way with their light to their keeper. The tall trees towered over him, reaching into the heavens. Their branches weave together a dense canopy, shrouding the forest in shadow and only letting strings of moonlight spill through the gaps, filling the forest with a soft light.

As Daemon enters the clearing, his violet eyes instantly fall upon Celethiel sitting on a stone bench under a white willow tree. She was clad purely in white, and her hair was long and bright; like a moonlight river cascading down her back, casting a glow around her like a magical veil. The sight of her beauty was utterly spellbinding and mesmerizing, and Daemon was enchanted.

“Why do you linger in the shadows, my prince?” Said the enchantress. Her voice was silvery and melodious, like the sound of a fine harp.

“I only linger in the shadows not to hide from you, but to admire the beauty you emit, ñuha ōños.” said Daemon. “For you are a treasure of all treasures worth worshiping.”

A musical chuckle was the response; short and breathy. It filled Daemon with excitement, making him wanting more; more of her sweet melody of a harmonious mixture of grace and elegance.

While his eyes were fixed on her; hers was on the moon, gazing at it with a distant look of tranquility and longing. Daemon envied its fortune, for it had become the object of affections of the one he loved the most. Desiring nothing more than to be in the moon’s place so he can feel the touch of her eyes upon his own face. He walks up to Celethiel, and slowly kneels on the ground in front of her. Gently, he takes her hands in his. His warmth instantly melts the chillness of the night as their fingers interlace together.

“My love?” He said softly, his voice almost a whisper.

“The moon...it's light shines brighter than ever before,” She said. “Mother must be happy.”

“I believe it is you that shines brighter, my love.” He said, his voice filled with tenderness and love. But her eyes have yet to stray away from the moon.

Daemon sighed, feeling defeated by the hold the moon had over his light. He slowly brings her hands up to his cheeks, wanting to feel the softness of her touch. Then his lips met with her smooth and delicate skin, and it felt as if he was kissing the finest silks in all of Arda.

“Celethiel…please…please look at me,” he spoke timidly. “kostilus.”

Daemon Targaryen, a man known for his arrogance, had willingly turned his pride into sand. A man known for his steel strength is now bent by his passion. Upon his knees, he begs his beloved for her love. His whole world is consumed by the one he desires most; his light.

Then suddenly, as time seemingly to stand still, her gaze has finally met his. And for the first time that night, he saw the stars that graced the night sky.

(𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑬𝒏𝒅.)

a/n: a little story info, celethiel is a valar; daughter of manwë and varda. instead of varda being associated with the stars, she represents the moon. i really hope you guys enjoyed this, and I'm so sorry it's short. i just haven't been getting enough inspiration and motivation to develop a fixed plot. maybe one day i'll come back to add on to this story.

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chokememaximoff · 1 year ago

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I don't understand you

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Abstract: In a high-stakes journey within the Avengers, new recruit Y/N Y/L/N navigates brutal training under Natasha Romanoff's watchful eye while hiding a secret crush. A night of passion with Wanda Maximoff ignites Natasha's jealousy, leading to unexpected confessions, and a passionate kiss that changes everything, uniting them in a newfound love.

TW:Injury,angst

In the bustling heart of the Avengers' headquarters, Y/N Y/L/N stood on the precipice of a new chapter in her life. Freshly recruited to the team, she found herself in a position she'd only dreamed of - under the watchful eye of Natasha Romanoff, the legendary Black Widow herself.

Y/N had admired Natasha from afar for years, her heart pounding whenever the formidable assassin graced the screen. Now, she was here, about to embark on an intense training regimen with the very woman who had inspired her to join the ranks of Earth's mightiest heroes.

As Y/N stepped into the training room, the sharp echo of her own footfalls against the cool floor was the only sound in the air. Then, like a shadow emerging from the depths, Natasha appeared. Clad in her sleek black suit, Natasha's presence was both commanding and enigmatic.

"Welcome, Y/N," Natasha's voice was like silk and steel combined. "Let's see what you're made of."

The training that followed was relentless, pushing Y/N's physical and mental limits to the brink. Hours turned into days, and days turned into weeks, all while Natasha's piercing gaze bore into Y/N's every move. The sweat-soaked sessions left Y/N's muscles aching and her thoughts spiraling, but she refused to give up.

During a rare break, Y/N attempted to strike up a conversation with Natasha. "You know, I've admired your work for a long time. It's an honor to train under you."

Natasha's gaze remained focused on the distance. "Admiration doesn't win battles, Y/N. Actions do."

Y/N's excitement deflated like a punctured balloon. She was determined to impress Natasha, to earn her respect, but her attempts at conversation seemed futile.

Weeks turned into months, and Y/N's frustration grew. Despite the intensity of their training, she found herself drawn to Natasha's enigmatic demeanor. There was a fire within Natasha that intrigued Y/N, and her heart couldn't help but flutter whenever Natasha's eyes met hers.

One evening, the Avengers hosted a party to celebrate a successful mission. The headquarters transformed into a vibrant dance floor, the air filled with laughter and music. Y/N, dressed in a stunning outfit, hesitated at the edges of the dance floor, her eyes searching for Natasha.

However, her search was interrupted by a familiar voice. "Care to dance?" Wanda Maximoff, the Scarlet Witch, stood before her, a playful smile on her lips.

Caught off guard, Y/N hesitated for a moment before taking Wanda's hand, allowing herself to be pulled into the dance. The music throbbed through her veins as their bodies moved in sync, the connection between them undeniable.

Unbeknownst to Y/N, Natasha had been watching from afar. Her jaw clenched as she observed the intimacy between Y/N and Wanda, igniting a spark of jealousy that she refused to acknowledge.

As the night wore on, Y/N found herself in Wanda's arms once more, their movements growing more suggestive with each passing song. The tension in the air was palpable, a mixture of desire and curiosity.

When the sun began to rise, Y/N and Wanda found themselves in Y/N's room, their breathing heavy as they shared a fleeting moment of vulnerability. "This is a one-time thing, right?" Y/N's voice wavered as she sought reassurance.

Wanda's eyes softened, her fingers tracing Y/N's jawline. "Of course. Just a moment of solace."

Days turned into weeks, and the memory of that night lingered in the back of Y/N's mind. Then, a mission came, one that would change everything. Y/N and Natasha were assigned to infiltrate a Hydra base deep in enemy territory.

The mission was fraught with danger, every step a calculated risk. In the midst of chaos, Y/N found herself shielding Natasha from gunfire, taking a brutal beating in the process. Despite her injuries, she pushed through, determined to protect her fellow Avenger.

When they returned to the compound, Y/N's energy was spent, her body on the brink of collapse. She fought to hide her pain, determined not to show weakness in front of Natasha. But as her vision blurred and her strength waned, Y/N finally succumbed to her injuries, collapsing into unconsciousness.

The last thing she remembered was Natasha's panicked voice calling her name.

When Y/N awoke, she was greeted by the sight of Natasha sitting beside her bed. The usually stoic Avenger appeared almost vulnerable, her fingers gently tracing the bandages that covered Y/N's wounds.

"You idiot," Natasha's voice was a mixture of anger and concern. "You should have told me you were hurt."

Y/N tried to muster a smile. "Didn't want to slow you down."

Natasha's features softened as she met Y/N's gaze. "You shouldn't have had to bear this alone."

As Natasha tended to Y/N's wounds, the air between them felt charged with unspoken emotions. Y/N's heart raced, her mind a whirlwind of conflicting thoughts.

When the last bandage was applied, Natasha's gaze remained fixed on Y/N. "You risked everything for me."

Y/N shrugged, attempting to downplay her actions. "We're a team, aren't we?"

Natasha's jaw tightened, her eyes flashing with an emotion Y/N couldn't quite decipher. "You mean more to me than just a teammate."

Confusion swirled within Y/N's mind, but before she could respond, the door burst open. Wanda Maximoff rushed in, her eyes wide with concern. "Y/N! Are you okay?"

Natasha's expression hardened as she rose from her seat, her movements abrupt. "She's fine. Now leave."

Wanda's concern shifted to confusion, but she nodded and left the room. Natasha's attention returned to Y/N, her gaze intense.

"What was that about?" Y/N asked, her voice laced with uncertainty.

Natasha hesitated, her fingers brushing a strand of hair from Y/N's face. "She doesn't need to worry about you."

Y/N's brow furrowed. "Why do you care so much?"

Natasha's jaw clenched, her gaze falling to her hands. "Maybe I care more than I should."

The words hung in the air, a weighty confession that left Y/N stunned. Before she could respond, Natasha turned to leave the room, her steps heavy with a mixture of frustration and resignation.

Days turned into weeks, and Y/N's injuries slowly healed. As she returned to training, Natasha's intensity was unwavering. Y/N's patience was wearing thin, her frustration boiling over during a particularly grueling session.

"I don't understand you," Y/N finally snapped, sweat dripping down her forehead. "You push me, you ignore me, you act like I'm nothing more than a nuisance!"

Natasha's eyes narrowed, her tone icy. "Maybe you'd prefer someone else to train you."

Y/N's chest heaved as anger flared within her. "Maybe I would. Someone who actually sees me."

The tension in the room was palpable, the words hanging in the air like a challenge. Natasha's expression shifted, a mixture of surprise and something else Y/N couldn't quite place.

"Someone like Wanda, perhaps?" Natasha's voice was sharp, her eyes narrowing.

Y/N's heart raced, her pulse echoing in her ears. "What are you talking about?"

Natasha's gaze bore into Y/N's, her features a mask of frustration. "You seem to enjoy her company quite a bit."

Confusion and realization collided within Y/N's mind, and the truth slipped from her lips before she could stop it. "It's not just her company I enjoy."

Natasha's eyes widened, a flicker of something crossing her features before she masked it. "What are you saying?"

Y/N's cheeks burned, her heart racing as she met Natasha's gaze head-on. "I... I've had feelings for you since before I even joined the Avengers."

The room fell silent, the weight of Y/N's confession hanging in the air like a delicate thread. Before Y/N could react, Natasha crossed the distance between them, her fingers gently tilting Y/N's chin upward. Then, with a mixture of passion and vulnerability, Natasha pressed her lips to Y/N's.

The kiss was a revelation, a culmination of months of training, longing, and unspoken emotions. Y/N's heart raced, her fingers instinctively reaching to tangle in Natasha's hair, pulling her closer.

As they finally broke apart, Natasha's gaze bore into Y/N's, a raw intensity in her eyes. "You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that."

A smile tugged at the corners of Y/N's lips. "Maybe you should've told me."

Natasha's lips curved into a rare, genuine smile. "I was too busy training you."

Y/N chuckled, the tension of the past months melting away. "Well, maybe we can find some time for more... personal training?"

Natasha's laughter joined Y/N's, and in that moment, the distance between them seemed to disappear completely. They were Avengers, yes, but they were also two individuals who had found an unexpected connection amidst the chaos of their lives.

As their laughter echoed through the room, the bond between Y/N Y/L/N and Natasha Romanoff deepened, forging a path toward a future that neither of them could have anticipated.

#marvel mcu #mcu #marvel #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader

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annachum · 4 months ago

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Also I got to say that in the marvel comics, it isn't just Loki who gives her shit

Sigyn is basically given shit by VIRTUALLY EVERYONE ELSE in the Marvel Comics

Like imagine from a minor noble branch in Asgard or smth, and then arranged to marry Theoric....and then Loki kills Theoric and then managed to trick her to marry him. And then Sigyn spent decades not only abused by Loki, she had to watch him cheat on her multiple times, AND THEN virtually no one sided with her when Odin killed her kids ( aka no social support whatsoever )

No wonder Marvel Comics! Sigyn refuses to come back - she has been through ENOUGH.

Sigyn in my MCU fics basically has elements of Myth Sigyn and Marvel Comics Sigyn in spades.....except she has a much healthier, loving romance with Loki, and becomes loved and respected by many. Basically Sigyn in my MCU fics is a redemption of Marvel Comics Sigyn cuz I think she DESERVED IT.

Also MCU Loki and Sigyn would absolutely DECK Marvel Comics Loki and basically a bunch of others for treating Marvel Comics Sigyn like shit

I find Sigyn to be an interesting goddess because there is so much of her left to be interpreted. There is barely any mythology about her, which does leave a lot open for creative liberties when it comes to interpretations of her.

Sigyn can go from being a non-violent, sophisticated lady

A loving wife who is stronged willed but enjoys the femmine and softer aspects of life

To a war-torn valkyrie and a victory goddess that stands for peace and loyalty

Rather, a bit more violent type victory goddess who wants to see victory within battle and bloodshed (and may or may not be a little morally ambiguous)

There are so many different ways to portray her!

But one thing stays the same no matter what version of her there is , she will still always love Loki and her family 💛💚

I just wish modern media would stop treating Sigyn as the "abused wife" or the "other woman" when that doesn't speak to her character at all. Rather, those are just poor interpretations of her.

#justice for sigyn #marvel comics sigyn has been through ENOUGH #what exactly has she done to deserve such cruelty anyway?!#marvel comics sigyn is a compassionate silk hiding steel lady!!!!#and the pitting of sigyn and sif against each other in marvel comics?!#CANT THEY JUST BE FRIENDS/ALLIES IN MCU?!

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theenchantresx · 2 months ago

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Under the reddish tree

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Female Reader (Winterfell OC)

Inspiration (author in the watermark):

Pictures taken from Pinterest: credits to all the artists/original owners

Warnings: none? Just a cute and palpable encounter "under the cherry tree"

Word Count: 2654

The tournament grounds buzzed with life—the clattering of armor, the bellow of noblemen cheering for their favorite champions, the sharp, distinct sounds of steel on steel. Ladies in vibrant silks lined the viewing stands, their smiles sweet, their whispers coy as they admired the knights below. You stood among them, but apart. Always apart.

You weren’t here for yourself. You were here for Lady Alysanne, your duty to remain by her side, attending to her every whim. She and the other highborn ladies giggled and exchanged gossip, their attention focused on the spectacle of the tourney. You were a lady-in-waiting from the cold, rugged North, where the wind bit and the people were as hard as the land itself. In a place like King’s Landing, you were often seen but never truly noticed—too quiet, too different.

Too cold.

You’d slipped away from the stands unnoticed, seeking a moment of peace beneath the sprawling branches of the red tree near the cloisters. Its leaves were a deep crimson, stark against the pale sky—a reminder of the North, where the weirwoods stood, ancient and silent. It was strange to find one here, in the capital, amidst all the heat and glamour.

The cool breeze kissed your cheeks, bringing some calm back to you. You were used to the cold. The North lived in your bones, and the relentless warmth of the South made you long for the icy winds of your homeland.

But your peace was short-lived.

A shadow fell over you, casting a chill that had nothing to do with the wind. You felt him before you heard him—the presence that made the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. Aemond Targaryen.

Your heart quickened, and you chastised yourself for the involuntary reaction. He was just a man—no, he was a prince, and that made him far more dangerous. You’d noticed him before, felt his gaze on you in passing, though you told yourself it was merely your imagination. Aemond had no reason to notice you. You were a northern girl, a lady-in-waiting—plain, reserved, and far removed from the those ladies who caught his attention.

Or so you thought.

“Lady of the North,” came his voice, smooth as silk but with an edge that could cut glass. You looked up, and there he was, standing far too close, his silver hair glinting in the late afternoon sun. His one eye fixed on you with unsettling intensity, while his eyepatch and irregular scar only seemed to add to the sharpness of his features. “Hiding from the festivities, are we?”

You swallowed, unsure of how to respond, your back stiffening as you faced him. He was a prince, after all. “I’m not hiding, my prince,” you said quietly, your voice betraying none of the nerves fluttering in your chest. “I merely sought some… quiet.”

His lips curved, not quite a smile, but close enough to send your heart into a strange rhythm. “Hmm... Quiet.” The word rolled off his tongue like he was tasting it. “The North must be quiet. But here… the South is loud, isn’t it? Overwhelming.”

You blinked, caught off guard. He knew. Somehow, he knew exactly how you felt. “It is,” you admitted softly, glancing away, trying to compose yourself under the weight of his gaze. “King’s Landing is far different from Winterfell.”

Aemond’s eye didn’t leave you, and you felt its pull, like the lure of a flame drawing in a moth. He tilted his head, as though studying you more closely. “And yet you’ve adapted, haven’t you? A northern lady surviving in the lion’s den or rather the dragon's den.”

Your cheeks flushed at the observation, but you kept your composure. “I have done what is expected of me, my prince.”

He stepped closer, just a fraction, but it was enough to make your pulse race. “And what is it you truly desire?” His voice was low, smooth, the kind of tone that seemed to slip under your skin and coil around your heart. “What do you want, hidden away here beneath the red leaves?”

You blinked, flustered, your breath catching in your throat. He was standing close now, too close for propriety, but you couldn’t bring yourself to move. There was something magnetic about him—something dangerous. His presence was overwhelming, all-consuming, and despite the cool breeze, the air between you seemed to heat up.

“I…” you stammered, unsure of what to say, unsure of how to answer a question you didn’t fully understand yourself. “I only sought… a moment of peace.”

“Peace.” Aemond’s lips twitched in amusement, his eye gleaming as he took in your nervousness. “Do I not bring you peace, my lady?”

You swallowed hard, your mouth suddenly dry. The prince’s words were laced with mockery, but there was something else in them, something that sent a shiver down your spine. He reached out, his gloved hand brushing a loose strand of hair away from your face. The touch was light, fleeting, but it left a trail of warmth in its wake.

“Your cheeks are flushed.” His voice was a low murmur, his smirk deepening as his eye flicked over your reddening face. “Is it the southern heat, or… something else?”

The teasing note in his voice made your cheeks burn even hotter, and you bit the inside of your cheek, struggling to maintain control. “I— I’m not accustomed to the weather here,” you managed, your voice barely above a whisper.

Aemond’s smirk widened, and he leaned in slightly, his breath warm against your ear. “Hmm... Is that so?”

You couldn’t breathe. His closeness, the way his presence seemed to envelop you, made it difficult to think. Your pulse quickened, and you cursed yourself for reacting so strongly to him. You were a northern lady, raised in the cold, taught to be composed. Yet here you were, crumbling under the heat of a Targaryen prince’s gaze.

Aemond’s fingers brushed against your jaw, a subtle, teasing touch that sent a spark through your veins. “You may be from the cold North, but you burn just the same,” he whispered, his voice low and teasing, sending a wave of heat through you.

Your breath hitched at his words, and you instinctively leaned back against the tree, needing something to steady yourself. His touch, his gaze, everything about him was too much. And yet, you found yourself craving more.

“I… I don’t know what you mean, my prince,” you whispered, though the tremor in your voice betrayed you.

Aemond tilted his head, the smirk still playing on his lips as his fingers ghosted down your arm, tracing an invisible path along your skin. “Don’t you?” His voice was dangerously soft, almost a purr. “I think you do.”

The air between you crackled with tension, a silent, unspoken pull that neither of you could ignore. His touch, though barely there, was enough to set your skin alight, your heart pounding in your chest. Every breath you took felt heavy, the space between you shrinking with every passing second.

“I’ve seen you,” Aemond murmured, his voice so low it was almost a whisper. “Standing quietly at the edges, trying not to be noticed. But I notice.” His hand slid to your waist, resting there lightly, just enough to make your heart race even faster. “I always notice.”

Your eyes widened, and you looked up at him, your breath catching in your throat. He was so close now, his body mere inches from yours, his face hovering just above yours. You could feel the heat radiating from him, the intensity of his gaze as he watched you.

“Tell me now,” he whispered, his voice soft but commanding, “what is it that you truly want, my lady of the North?”

Your heart pounded in your chest, and for a moment, you couldn’t speak, couldn’t move. His question hung in the air between you, heavy with implication, and you knew there was only one answer.

But could you say it?

Could you admit to yourself what you really wanted?

Aemond’s lips brushed against your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. “You need only ask,” he whispered, his voice a seductive promise.

And in that moment, you realized—there was no escaping the fire of the dragon.

Your heart pounded so loudly in your chest you feared he could hear it. His breath was warm against your skin, each exhale fanning your flushed cheeks as his hand rested against your waist, the touch both teasing and possessive. You could feel the rough bark of the tree pressing into your back, grounding you, even as the world spun around you.

Aemond was close—too close—and yet not close enough.

His lips hovered just above yours now, close enough for you to feel the warmth of him but not quite touching. The anticipation hung between you like the weight of a blade, suspended and sharp. His good eye flickered over your face, taking in every detail—the way your breath came quick and shallow, the way your fingers clenched nervously at the fabric of your skirts, the way your eyes darted between his lips and that haunting violet gaze.

"Tell me, sweet thing... Just tell me," he whispered, his voice barely more than a breath.

Your throat tightened. What did you want? The air between you was so thick, so charged that it felt like a physical thing pressing against your chest. You could barely think beyond the heady warmth of his proximity, the way his presence swallowed everything around you.

But you knew.

Your lips parted, your breath hitching as you met his gaze. For a moment, neither of you moved, neither of you spoke. Time seemed to slow as his hand moved, trailing upward from your waist, his fingers grazing your arm before settling gently at the back of your neck. His thumb brushed your skin, and you shivered at the contact, your pulse quickening.

"I…" Your voice faltered, but your body betrayed you, leaning into him, closing the unbearable distance between you. Your hands, once clutching your skirts, found purchase against the firm muscles of his chest, the leather of his tunic smooth and cool beneath your palms. You weren’t even sure how your fingers had moved, but now you couldn’t pull them back.

And neither could he.

With a soft, almost predatory hum, Aemond closed the final gap between you, his lips finding yours with a soft, deliberate pressure. The kiss was slow, measured—no wild passion, but something deeper, more controlled. It was as if he was savoring you, testing the boundaries of what you would allow. The warmth of his lips, the soft scrape of his thumb against your neck—it all sent a dizzying sensation through you, like you were falling, falling into something you couldn’t escape.

Your back pressed more firmly against the tree, and you felt the rough bark dig into your skin, the contrast between it and the softness of his lips a heady mix of sensations. You let out a quiet sigh against his mouth, your body relaxing into him without realizing it.

That seemed to be all the encouragement he needed.

The hand at the back of your neck tightened just slightly, drawing you closer to him as he deepened the kiss. His lips moved against yours with more urgency now, though still controlled, as if he was holding back something far more dangerous. His body pressed lightly against yours, but not enough to trap you—just enough to remind you of the power he held, the dragon lurking just beneath the surface.

His free hand moved down to your waist again, but then, as if sensing your hesitance, he reached for your hand. His fingers slipped between yours, intertwining them gently, his thumb brushing over your knuckles in a surprisingly tender gesture.

That small touch—the simple act of holding your hand—made your heart stutter, your breath catching in your throat. The intimacy of it, more than the kiss, was enough to make your chest tighten.

Aemond pulled back slightly, his lips hovering over yours as you both breathed heavily, the charged air between you now buzzing with something electric. His forehead rested against yours, his eye half-lidded as he studied your face.

"You're trembling," he whispered, the hint of a smirk curling at the corner of his lips. His fingers squeezed yours gently, grounding you amidst the storm he had created. "Why is that?"

You tried to speak, but words seemed to fail you. Your body was still pressed against the rough trunk of the tree, your legs weak, your heart pounding in your ears. The cool breeze from the tournament grounds swept through the leaves, but it did nothing to ease the heat coursing through you.

"I…" Your voice cracked, and you had to swallow to gather the courage to speak. "I'm not used to—"

"To this?" Aemond’s voice was a teasing purr, and his thumb continued to trace soft circles on your knuckles as his lips grazed your temple, sending another wave of warmth through you.

"To… you," you admitted, your words barely a whisper, but they were enough to make his smirk deepen.

"Ah," he murmured, his voice low and rich as he brushed his lips over your cheek, his breath sending shivers down your spine. "And yet, here you are." A sly smile crosses his face and lights up his gaze.

He pulled back enough to look at you, his thumb still gently stroking the back of your hand, the touch strangely comforting in contrast to the heated kiss that had left you breathless. His lips twitched, amusement dancing in his eye as he watched the way you struggled to regain control of yourself.

"You pretend to be ice," Aemond murmured, his voice low and teasing as he leaned in closer, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. "But you burn, my lady. You burn just as brightly as any fire."

His words sent a fresh wave of heat through you, and you clenched your fingers around his, seeking some kind of anchor amidst the maelstrom of emotions swirling within you. His touch was both gentle and possessive, his presence overwhelming yet grounding all at once. It was a paradox, one you didn’t know how to unravel.

Aemond leaned back slightly, his gaze dark and intense as he searched your face. For a moment, you thought he might speak, but then he pressed his lips to yours again, this time more urgently, more insistently. His hand tightened around yours, pulling you closer until there was no space left between your bodies.

You could feel the strength of him—the sharp edges hidden beneath his smooth exterior. But still, there was restraint. He held you as though you were something precious, something fragile, and that contradiction—his strength and his gentleness—made your heart race even faster.

You didn’t know how long you stood there beneath the red leaves, entwined with him in the shadows of the ancient tree. The world outside—the noise of the tournament, the laughter of nobles—faded into nothing. There was only him, only Aemond, and the way he made you feel as though you were the center of the universe.

Finally, he pulled back, just enough to allow you both to catch your breath, though he still held you close. His fingers, still interlaced with yours, gave a gentle squeeze as he tilted his head, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

"You hide from the world, my lady," he murmured, his voice soft but teasing. "But you cannot hide from me."

Your heart fluttered at his words, and you felt a warmth spread through you that had nothing to do with the southern sun. There was something undeniable between you, something that had ignited the moment he had stepped beneath those red leaves.

And now, there was no turning back.

#aemond targaryen #aemond #aemond one eye #fanfic #fanfiction #house of the dragon aemond #prince aemond #prince aemond targaryen #prince regent aemond #hotd aemond #aemond x y/n #aemond x reader #aemond x oc #aemond x you #oneshot #aemond oneshot

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starlight727 · 2 days ago

Text

A little gift (part 3, the final part, I promise lol)

Shadow Milk Cookie x reader fic (Chapter 2 - Theater of Lies)

Author's note: Had planned to leave this part for part 2, but decided to make a separate part for it, so here we go, final act, let's do this!

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3 (you are here)

"As saddening as it can be, we've reached the last round! And since it's the last question, you get twice the amount of points!" announced Shadow Milk with a sad tone in his voice, but at the same time he sounded excited for what was coming next. He pointed out this last question was for White Lily, you looked over your shoulder to see her pale face and eyes widened, she tried to steel herself, but what came next shocked her to her core.

"You sure seem proud of your new title of 'the Guardian of the Seal...' ...let's see how great you really are...!" and with that, Shadow Milk summoned lots of strings that held you and your friends up in the hair by the wrists and ankles, it scared you all, it was a painful feeling how tight the strings were.

But suddenly, you felt the strings let go of your limbs and you fell on a solid platform, it was a cardboard star! You were then carefully taken to the one place you never expected to be: Shadow Milk's hand. You were frozen in fear, trying your best to hide your trembling self. Your eyes were wide open, taking in every single detail in the giant entertainer's form, his attire, his strange hair (or hat, what even was all of that??), his face... his wonderful face and its... majestic features... oh my Witches, you were falling in love with him HARD, like a shooting star crashing on Earthbread (that doesn't make sense but you get the idea). You got up on your feet, but your shaking knees were not helping you keep your balance. You tried walking up to him, but you tripped over your own foot (like a clumsy main character, you hated it), but to your surprise, he caught you just in time! Your gaze softened at the surprisingly generous act, you were staring at him, at his gorgeous sky blue eyes, for so long, you got lost in them, you didn't notice you were so deep in there until Shadow Milk started talking to you with a voice so soft it could be softer than silk.

"Hello there, Y/N Cookie!" he began with a light chuckle, something that snapped you out of your trance and made you blush like mad.

"Hehe, don't worry, I'm not going to hurt you, my little star. You'll stay right here, close to me, so I can keep my eyes on you~." he said as he moved you to the top of the Silver Tree, where the night sky was covered with thousands of blue eyes peering into your soul. It took you a couple of minutes to register what just happened, you needed to lie down after that, you felt like you were about to pass out and you didn't wanna fall off the platform you were standing on, so you rested on it while everything else was happening.

While you were asleep, a lot of important events were happening: Shadow Milk Cookie was holding your friends hostage (Wizard’s string restraints were tighter than everyone else’s), White Lily Cookie was about to make the ultimate decision between saving everyone or defeating Shadow Milk, all while he was making sure you didn’t get caught in the crossfire because the last thing he wanted was for you to get hurt by his hands, especially hers. So everything was going great for him so far, he was going to kill your friends, rule Earthbread and have you be his favorite doll forever… until… something unexpected happened. White Lily used her Guardian powers not to attack Shadow Milk, but to seal the crack in the Tree, thus ruining his plans (also making shrink in size) and saving everyone in the process. You were slowly waking up after the blast healed the Tree, all those loud noises and bright lights were too much, you had to see what was going on.

“You... YOU...!!!! I gave you only two choices...!!!” his loud complaints woke you up more and more, you quickly got up from the platform and stretched. But suddenly, it started shaking and slowly falling, you tried your best to stay calm and steady, but you were at the top of the Tree so it wasn't as easy as you thought it would be. It wasn’t long before the cardboard star you were standing on disappeared completely and you were plummeting to the ground, screaming for help.

“…!!!” Shadow Milk gasped at the sight of you falling, so he extended his hand towards you and a bunch of gooey black tentacles rose from the ground to grab you, bringing you close to him.

“There you go, my darling! Wouldn’t want you hurting yourself now, would we~?” he said as he caressed your face, you blushed a darker tone at the gesture, you weren’t expecting to be this close to him like this, this was simply too much!

“Y/N Cookie! Hold on!” exclaimed White Lily, sending large green vines to your location, grabbing you and pulling you away from Shadow Milk.

“NO!!! You're NOT taking my star away from ME!!!!” he shouted as he sent more tentacles to grab you and pull you away from her, both cookies were now pulling you in opposite directions. It hurt you a lot, you were cracking from the tight grips the vines and tentacles had on you. You were visibly uncomfortable and groaning loudly, both cookies were now fighting for your safety and survival.

“How dare you ruin... This moment I've been waiting for for so long...” his tentacles’ grip on you was weakening, White Lily vines’ kept pulling away from him, their grips were so tight you were losing air, you couldn’t breathe properly anymore.

“Eugh... Agh...” you didn’t like hearing him groan in pain, his tentacles were getting weaker and weaker. White Lily took his moment of weakness to her advantage and used her vines to pull harder, successfully bringing you closer to her.

“WHOA!!” you exclaimed as you were pulled away from Shadow Milk’s grasp.

“ARGHHHHHHH!!!!!!!”

…

……everything went silent, everything turned white…

………….

You were unconscious for a long time.

“…….Y-……” someone was calling out to you.

“…Y/N…………..” you were slowly opening your eyes.

“……Y/N Cookie…!” your eyes shot wide open, you were breathing heavy, you tried to get up but the pain in your waist hit you like a bullet. Pure Vanilla and White Lily were holding you steady, making sure you didn’t hurt yourself more.

“It’s alright, Y/N Cookie! You’re safe.” said Pure Vanilla as he was healing your wounds.

“Aughh, hmm? Pure Vanilla Cookie…? White Lily Cookie…?”

“Oh Y/N Cookie, I’m so sorry for the damage I caused, if there’s anything I could do to make it up to you…” said White Lily, gently placing her hand on your forehead while looking away from your damaged self.

“No no, it’s ok. You did it to save me, thank you…”

White Lily smiled softly at you, Pure Vanilla smiled at her, he was so grateful that she was able to save you. A few moments later, Gingerbrave and friends, Mercurial Knight and Silverbell came to see you.

“Y/N Cookie, you’re ok!” exclaimed Gingerbrave.

“Oh thank the Witches you’re alright!” said Strawberry.

“Finally, it’s all over for that Beast. Thank you so much, White Lily Cookie.” added Wizard.

“Hehe, hey guys.” you whispered as you tried to get up, your voice was weak from the screaming, and you couldn’t maintain your balance from your broken waist. Luckily, Mercurial Knight and Silverbell were there to catch you.

“Careful Y/N Cookie, do not overexert yourself.” said Mercurial Knight.

“Don’t worry Y/N Cookie, we’ll help you get better, we’ll take you back to the kingdom so you can rest!” said Silverbell while smiling at you.

“Thanks, you two, I appreciate it.”

As you all returned to the Faerie kingdom, you all noticed how everything was going back to normal, all the magic from Shadow Milk’s realm was receding. Oh man… he was gone… oh… why were you feeling sad? This was supposed to be a good thing, right? …right? You weren’t sure how to feel about this, until you heard his voice again.

“You think you won, don't you?!”

“HUH?! How are you still talking?!” exclaimed Wizard, you wanted to know how he was talking too!

“You may be celebrating your little victory for now... ... But heed my words! We have finally risen. Do not think that you can hold us back. Foolish Cookies...! You simply have no idea what's waiting for you...! HA HA HA HA HA!”

…

…….

……….

It had been a while since Shadow Milk warned you all about the upcoming danger that was headed your way. You were feeling better about your injuries, Pure Vanilla managed to heal you and the Faerie Cookies patched you up. Everyone was celebrating White Lily's triumph over Shadow Milk's evil ways by having a feast to honor her and the late Elder Faerie. None of this made you feel better emotionally though, you felt conflicted whether you should be happy for everyone winning against Shadow Milk... or sad over his forced departure. You needed some time alone to think, so you excused yourself to go check on the Silver Tree, Mercurial Knight suggested against this because you were still healing from your wounds. You told him you'd be ok on your own, you trusted White Lily's magic would protect you from harm, so he let you go. You made your way towards the Tree, where you rested your head against it and imagined yourself with Shadow Milk again.

"Hey, Shadow Milk Cookie? ...I thought your show was great. I thought... I think... you're great! You're amazing, and funny, and extremely handsome, heh." you started quietly, hoping he could hear you from inside the Tree.

"I wish... I wish I could... see you again..." you whispered as you placed your hands on the Tree, giving it a little kiss, maybe he could feel you from the other side...

...

......

..........

"You're an interesting little cookie, aren't you~?" he spoke to you in your head, so no one else could hear you. You were startled by his response, you didn't think he'd actually say something! You took a few steps back from the Tree, you were hoping nobody saw you doing all of this.

"What the?? How are you talking to me?"

"I'm in your head, silly! Heheheheh!"

"Oh, right. That's not concerning at all."

"Hehe! Y'know, out of all the Cookies I've tormented today, I didn't expect you to resist. In fact, it almost looked like you were truly... interested in me! Why is that?"

You didn't think he'd ask you about your behavior towards him, so with no other way of answering (cause you knew he could see through your lies), you told him the truth.

"O-Oh, w-well, I just... I just thought... that... you were the most intriguing Cookie I've ever met, and I've met a lot of Cookies on my many adventures, but none of them had the same effect on me like you have."

"And what might that be?"

"...Your charms, your witty banter, the fact that you made me laugh several times during your show... and... the way you treated me was so... gentle and caring... not to mention bold... I honestly didn't expect that coming from the Beast of Deceit himself."

Your answer filled Shadow Milk's ego... and his heart. He felt himself blushing and genuinely smiling from the honest opinion you had about him, he wanted to jump out of the Tree to give you a big hug and never let go, he wanted to smooch you until you were breathless, leaving marks on you to let everyone know that you were his and only his.

"...Well aren't you such a cute little cookie~? As a token of my appreciation, here's a little something that you may have lost during my show." you tilted your head in confusion, what was he talking about? Suddenly, out of nowhere, you heard something fall behind you. You quickly turned around and gasped at what you saw. It was your hat! The one that puppet gifted you! Oh, you were so happy to see that hat again, you took a quick sniff and... yep, the same blueberry milk scent from before.

"...Thank you!" you held the hat close to you before you put it on, still fits.

"You're welcome, doll! Just make sure you don't lose it again... or let your small wizard friend see you with it... hats like that one don't just grow on trees, y'know. And... if you ever come back here... I'd love for you to give me more of those sweet and tender kisses of yours, maybe I could return the favor~."

What the?! How does he know about...?? Wait, he knows, but you never actually kissed him... did you? In a split second, your mind travelled back to the memory of you... giving the puppet a kiss... oh my Witches...

"I- uh-... uhhh...b-but... w-wait what?!" is all that came out of your mouth. You couldn't believe it: The puppet, that was him in disguise! You kissed Shadow Milk Cookie (on the forehead, but still)! Shadow Milk laughed heartily at your stuttering self, blushing while doing so.

"Hahahaha! Oh, you look so adorable when you're confused~!" he teased with a devious grin that you couldn't see. You were feeling very dizzy from all your rushing thoughts and rapidly beating heart, you had to sit down for a little while, luckily the wind was there to cool off your head.

"Hehe, you're full of surprises, Shadow Milk Cookie. And sure, if I ever come back here... then maybe... I could give you a surprise of my own~." you said while taking your hat from your head and giving it a long kiss while looking at the Tree, knowing that he could somehow still see you. Your words and your actions made him gasp loudly and jump with excitement, his face turning dark blue while he floated giddily, giggling, squealing, flapping his hands and kicking his feet in the air like a high school girl who got asked out on a date by the hottest guy in school. You heard him making all those noises, which made a light blush grow on your cheeks, then you chuckled while covering your mouth with one hand. But alas, it was time to go, you knew this because you heard your friends calling you in the distance.

"Y/N Cookie, come on! We gotta go!" shouted Gingerbrave.

"Pure Vanilla and White Lily are calling us!" said Strawberry as loudly as she could.

"Let's go Y/N Cookie, we don't wanna keep them waiting, do we?" added Wizard.

"Yeah yeah, I'm coming!" you answered back, hiding the tone of annoyance in your cheerful response. You really weren't looking forward to leaving, especially since you had a good thing going on with him.

"Well, I have to go now. It was nice talking to you again." you told him sadly with a small frown on your face.

"..."

"...Shadow Milk Cookie?"

"Oh, yeah, my apologies heh, I was just... thinking" he said sternly, staring at your friends, and Pure Vanilla's his Soul Jam.

"Hm, about what exactly?" you said teasingly with a smirk. This made him snap out of his thoughts and smile.

"About how much I'm going to miss you, my shining star~! Hehehehe!" he chuckled lightly. You were blushing a lot, he called you his shining star! Witches, you wanted to jump and squeal, but you couldn't show it because your friends were watching you.

"Uh-... w-well uhm, hehe, I'm gonna miss you too...!" you said while breathing heavily, he's been flirting with you so many times, it was time you did something about it before you left, so you did the next best thing.

"Goodbye, my dazzling jester~!" you finished your statement with a wink and a bow, then quickly turned around and ran to your friends with the biggest grin on your face. You had to hide it from your friends so they don't ask you about what you were doing by the Tree, you also hid your hat somewhere in your clothing only you knew about. As you approached your friends, you all waved goodbye to the Faerie Cookies.

If only you could see the look on his face, he was flabbergasted from your bold move, his face was a whole blueberry, melting in place, drunken smile and everything, sighing dreamily over your eventual return.

"Hey Y/N Cookie, what are you smiling about? Did something good happen?" asked Strawberry curiously.

"Oh it's nothing, just remembered something funny." you said as you cleared your throat, trying to wipe away the smile of your face as best as you could. As you all left the Faerie Kingdom, you took a glance at Pure Vanilla's Soul Jam and you heard him speak to you one last time.

"Farewell, Y/N Cookie of the Cookie Kingdom, I'll see you soon." he said softly, his last message to you, if you could, you'd invite him into your kingdom. You remembered how he mentioned that Dark Enchantress would give him and his comrades new cookie bodies so they could unlock their full potential again. Maybe when he finally gets his new body, you could give him some proper affection. Back home, you stare at your hat as you wait patiently for the day when you eventually reunite with him, when you give him those kisses you promised him... when he returns the favor in the most dramatic and romantic way possible, it would be expected from a Cookie like him, you'd still welcome him and his show of affection with open arms.

When you two meet again.

The end.

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shini--chan · 1 year ago

Note

May I request headcanons about Yandere Kaneki please?

Of course, here, have a character sheet. I got a bit carried away, since it has been so long since I wrote somthing for Tokyo Ghoul.

Yandere Character Sheet

Ken Kanaki

Trigger warnings: implied/references murder, humans are eaten, imprisonment, emotional/psychological manipulation, delusional behaviour, references to depression and suicidal ideation

Attributes - What sort of Yandere is he/she?

One of the cornerstones of Ken's yandere tendencies would be his protective urges. Few people aside from him know how dangerous and wicked the world can be. A person doesn't have to be a particularly sadistic ghoul to revel in bloodshed after all. There are so many ways you could hurt yourself.

In the beginning, he would be haunted by scenarios of all the ways harm could befall you. He would wake up from nightmares of you dying and feel his heart clench at the thought of you being wronged. Thought of how you could be harmed drives him half-insane with worry.

After his time with Agoiri Tree, these tendencies would only skyrocket. You are his Elysium, an island in a stormy sea, an oasis in the scorching desert. Do you really think he could let anything happen to you? What had once been an unbearable anxiety, uncomfortable like centipedes crawling under his skin, would morph into outright bloodlust. The harmful element would wind up as a blood splatter on the ground.

Of course, part of these protective urges would be based on how strong you are. If you're just a fragile doll, then Ken would want nothing more than to wrap you up in the finest silk and hide you away forever. If you have your own back bone of steel, then he would be relaxed enough to allow you more leeway and time outside. However, even if you are strong, even more powerful than him, then he would still feel protective over you. After all, even the most talented and effective people have weaknesses and openings, even they sometimes make stupid mistakes.

Aside from that, Ken is sweet and often very considerate. He takes note of your wishes and desires, even taking the effort to remember the little things - a book that you offhandedly mentioned that you wanted to read, how you like your coffee, the route you take to work in the morning. If you do, he doesn't even take physical notes, rather dedicating it all painstakingly to memory. That way, you would take a long time to catch onto the red flags, to how he seems a bit too dedicated, too desperate for it to be healthy.

Yes, he would be desperate and dependent. At night, he tries to tell himself that he would be happy just by watching you from afar, by ensuring your safety while remaining just another face in the crowd. He is too broken to be with you after all. But it is exactly because he is broken that he can't stay away from you. You put him at ease - your mere presence is balm to his fractured psyche and thus he would only grow more dependent on you the longer he would be a ghoul.

There would be days when he would practically be attached to you by the hip, for once ignoring all your protests and trying to drink in your presence as much as possible, as if you are some healing draught. Lie down with him, card your fingers through his hair and sooth over all his rough edges and your wish would be his command (of course, as long as it would be within reason). This is also one of the reasons why it would never be able to let you go - you’re his source of strength, the reason he clings to life instead of falling to his suicidal ideation. In a way, you’re what Rize (the figment of his imagination, that is) is to him and everything that she can’t be - supportive, yet not as harsh and biting, present and not in his head. You are something more than just a representation of one of his facets.

Though, there are still times when he is fractured, when even you aren't able to consolidate the parts of him. Then, he is rash and paranoid and so very restrictive. In some ways, he projects his mental state onto the outside world - when he is particularly fragile and conflicted, then he would see his world as endangered. When he is plagued with doubts, he second guesses your words and reads between the non-existent lines, constantly fearful that you are just putting up an act.

Entwined with that, is the way he flips between delusional and lucid. Thanks to his rather mild temper and selfless nature, he probably will have developed a somewhat normal relationship with you before his yandere tendencies would really emerge. At times he recognises that what he is doing is unhealthy and even toxic and that all the hurtful words you hurtle at him are warranted. Then there are other times when he isn’t sure of his own identity, or how the world really works. As a coping mechanism, he turns to you and ignores any misgiving you have about your relationship.

Kaneki is also very much obsessed with you. At night, he dreams about you and during the day he sees you in his inner eye. You come to mind when he imagines what true beauty is supposed to look like. Whenever his mind dares to wander, it wanders to you. His thoughts revolve around you to the point where he finds it difficult to think clearly, unless he is in a fight or you are close by. And having you in his arms is by far the more preferable option.

Cornering - How would they get you?

Ken doesn’t kidnap you. Not unless he would see that as the only option to keeping you safe. Instead, he tries to approach as he would a friend. With some luck on his side, he is his co-worker or a classmate; that way, it is expected that the two of you interact with each other as it is. Even with his character development over the course of canon, he is still clunky and shy when it comes to you. Well, if things start out as a professional relationship where he is mature and kind and helpful. However, as soon as matters would get more personal, then he would find himself floundering.

Perhaps you find his clumsiness when it comes to his emotions for you adorable, perhaps you first have to warm up to him (which he would manage to his helpfulness and persistence) but in the end, when you are together, he couldn’t be happier. It doesn’t have to be an official relationship either, it can just be you growing closer and closer, you not even being fully cognisant of the extent of your feelings, or of his for that matter.

Either way, Ken Kaneki does his best to wrap you up in a normal relationship before the going gets rough. It isn’t really his intention when the nature of your relationship starts to change; it just happens. There is this constant itch under his skin, these constructs in his mind mocking him that he’ll end up losing you. Thus, he pulls you closer and closer, drawing up all the more rules that you have to follow.

It would start with him being more prying than usual on where you are going and being all the more inquisitive on how your day went. Then it would transition to a tracker in your clothes or one your phone and locked doors at night. And it would end with you only being let out of the house with him as a chaperone or with a person that he particularly trusts.

Expectations - What do they expect of you?

Ken doesn’t have that many expectations of you, since he has a rather wide pallet of people that would check his boxes. Nevertheless, there are a few things that he looks for in a person and a few things that are absolute no-gos for him. One of those things is a strong sense of justice. He wouldn’t be able to bear a person that is psychopathic and sees other people as cattle or ants to be trod upon. After experiencing so much suffering, as well as seeing so much suffering being inflicted upon others, he requires somebody that can look at the world with kind eyes and not want to hurt others out of some sense of twisted glee. If you are an idealist that somehow wants to turn the world into a better place, then he would be all the more interested in you.

Tying into that, you better not be hedonistic. While there is nothing wrong with wanting to indulge in the few joys life has to offer, there is something off putting to him about a person that makes their life revolve around chasing pleasure and drowning in it. There is much more to life than a set of actions or experiences that make your brain release endorphins, and you not acknowledging that would just seem cowardly to him. He wouldn’t have anything against you being naive and sheltered - to him there is a difference to being that and willfully blind, or even sadistic.

Be sweet with him. He doesn’t mind a tsundere, but having to deal with a cynic (even if he is one at times) would just wear him down. At times, he just wants to put his head in your lap and have you card your hands through his hair. Surprise him with preparing coffee for when he gets home, and even if he can’t really eat the cake you bake for him, he would appreciate the sentiment. Aside from that, I can see him falling for somebody working in medicine and if you know that he is a ghoul and maybe go out of your way to smuggle out a bag of blood for him, he would be over the moon.

Besides that, he has a huge competence kink. There is just something about you being very good at something significant that warms him with pride and adoration. If you write, then he wants to read everything that you bring to paper, and lose himself in descriptions of other worlds. Good at singing and/or dancing? He has countless videos and audios on his phone. Should you dance with him, then you’ll have the privilege of seeing his cheeks flush deep red as you guide him through the motions. If you have a particular talent for something else that isn’t tied to entertainment, then he could spend hours listening to you talk about your field of expertise. He doesn’t even have to understand it to be enraptured, your passion and competence is more than enough to entice him.

Faded - Would they let go of you in any way?

You could scream and shout your throat raw at him, he would just nod along and prepare some warm milk with honey for when you’re finished with your tirade. He does his best to act unaffected, though your words are the equivalent of rubbing powdered glass over his skin. If you would continue for long or hit particularly sensitive nerves he would break down and cry. But still he would never let you go, as he would tell you. Because don’t you see, none of this is for him, it is all for you!

So no matter what you do, no matter how much what you say amplifies his self-hatred, he would keep you by his side. That being said, there are still two circumstances where he would let you go.

The first is if he comes to the conclusion that you are safer away from him rather than by his side. This would be due to you being endangered by proxy to him. The last thing he would want would be for you to die in the crossfire in a fight with the CCG or another ghoul faction, or, heavens forbid, be targeted as a means to hurt him.

The second would be him forgetting you. When Ken Kaneki becomes Haise Sasaki, he forgets you, at least when it comes to conscious memory. Though watch out! As soon as he would smell you or see you again, he would find himself drawn to you again.

Punishment - How would they proceed if you do something they disapprove of?

On average, Ken isn't big on punishments. He sees himself as your protector and guardian, and what sort of protector would he be if he can't protect you from himself? Perhaps as the Centipede he would more deliberately punish you. Else, in his mind he only takes measures to protect you, and if they are harsh, then so be it. It is clear that you are too reckless and naive and optimistic so you need a minder that isn't reluctant to make tough choices.

If you are too carefree and prone to venturing around, he'll imprison you in your shared apartment. Hanging out with people he doesn't approve of? Suddenly you are hearing stories of how they are terrible, good for nothing people. He'll lock away all the knives and anything you can hurt yourself with if you try to fight, and baby you if you self-harm. After trying to escape, he'll forbid you from watching TV or reading books, citing that your overactive imagination caused you to do something so foolhardy.

Protest will seem to fall on deaf ears. Sometimes they will but other times they'll be carefully filed away so that he can lose sleep due to them. You are always on his mind, after all, the good as well as the bad.

Reaction - How would they react to you escaping?

Panic, full blown panic. That is what he'll experience at first and the younger he is, the longer the panic attack will last. He'll dash around your shared living space, just hoping his panic is unwarrented and you just hid yourself away in one of your tantrums. His searching becomes more frantic and destructive the longer you remain undiscovered.

Eventually, he'll force himself to make a cup of coffee and sit down. Kaneki will do his best to piece together the various variables: When did you leave? What did you take with you? Which places are you most likely to run to? Are there any people from your past life that you still place a lot of trust in?

He will try his best to put himself in your shoes in order to anticipate your past, current and future choices and thus successfully track you down. Depending on which phase of his life he is currently in, there will be differences.

The shy Ken Kaneki that he is in the beginning of canon handles it like a teenage boy looking for his crush or friend. Checking social media, asking around, quietly loitering around places where he thinks you'll pop up. The Centipede is far more violent and far more desperate to get you in his grasp again, therefore the police and the CCG will find a lot of corpses, courtesy of his quest to find you again. As Haise Sasaki, he has far more resources and is calmer. In that case, he can cook up an excuse to have you very officially hunted down and dragged before him.

The end is always the same - him fussing over you like a mother hen, obsessively checking you for injuries and chiding you. After that incident, he’ll vow to keep a closer eye on you. You’ll be kept on an even shorter leash, with him being far stricter about rules and such in comparison to before your escape attempt. In his eyes, it came to you running away because he was far too lax with rules and vague about his intentions.

Turnabout - Scenario: You have the upper hand? What would be different from their usual MO?

Actually, not much world change, on the surface at least. In some ways, he wouldn’t mind you taking the steering wheel and allowing you to play the dominant partner in the relationship. If anything, being taken care of and having to relinquish control to you would be a new yet not unwelcome experience for him. At first, he would be worried and nagging, wanting to wriggle his way into being the one that takes care of you, the one that makes sacrifices yet he would slowly learn to enjoy taking the back seat. That is, of course, if the two of you would stick to being in a romantic relationship. However, don’t think he’ll allow you to get away. If anything, he might become so used to being taken care of, that he’ll not allow you to get rid of him.

On the other hand, if you become his captor and he your captee, he would have a lot of mixed feelings. In many ways, he would understand your urges to harm him and restrict his movements. After all, he had wronged you and in retrospect, he would realise that he might have been too harsh and condescending. That would make him vow to learn from his mistakes and treat you with more dignity, should he manage to turn the tables again. Because even if you would harm him, he would still continuously forgive you, because you forgive the people that you hold dear, or not?

Vengeance - What would they do in the face of competition?

Ken is insecure as it is and having a rival would only make this worse. Though it wouldn't have the intended effect of making him back off, rather it would make him all the more determined. Though, depending on which stage he is currently in, there are vast differences on how he deals with rivals.

As Ken Kaneki, the original, shy and timid Ken Kaneki, who has just become a ghoul or will soon become one, he’ll be much more shy. There is something all too tragic about the way he pines after you, in the manner a mediaeval knight would have pined after a lady of noble standing, a love that could never be mutual and fulfilled. Though, at times the depth of his passion will even spur him to action! It is surprising to everybody, even him and therefore he has a lot of plausible deniability in the case law enforcement comes knocking. It would sicken him to the core what he does to have you, and all the while he carries the heavy regrets in his heart, but it is all worth it as long as you are safe. Though, that is just when his emotions get the better of him, an absolute last resort. Else, he will try to convince you with shy words and texts in the middle of the night that your current paramour just isn’t compatible with you and that you deserve better.

As The Centipede, he is far more ruthless. After all, he does know what is best for you at the end of the day. So when he determines that the man that is currently in a relationship with you, or is bringing you flowers and chocolates every other day in an attempt to woo you, is bad for you, then the unlucky fellow must go. If he is feeling particularly frustrated and just must get the point over to you, then he waits to kill the offender right in front of you. Of course, that is if he can’t talk to you about his issues with you. Else he expects you to know that his arms are the safest to be it, and for you to reject any advances. It just might be that the one or the other is particularly pesky and persistent and needs to be taken out.

As Haise Sasaki, his plans are more complex. He has a reputation and a hell lot of resources to fall back on. As such, he tries the easy route first and foremost - talking to you. Of course, you might very well not be convinced by his word alone and then he’ll do some digging to drag the skeletons that certain person has in their closet forth. Maybe he’ll get other people to talk to you, to offhandedly mention and discuss the various flaws of his opponent with you. As much as he might want to kill his rival, he can’t make it too obvious. Perhaps that person will then be sandwiched between two warring parties and wind up as collateral damage, or be the victim of a violent crime in a far away city, or are found dead by a suicide hotspot. It takes much to get Haise to take his rival into a back alley or out into the country in order to make short work of them.

In all scenarios he feels a twinge of guilt, but does his best to stamp it out with thoughts about you - your safety, your love, your happiness, you, you, you.

Art is not mine: from Irina Vinnik and other artists

#yandere ken kaneki #yandere tokyo ghoul #yandere character sheet #x reader #yandere

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