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teecupangel · 6 months

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@thedragonqueen1998's reply to this post

That new tag actually is an idea/AU i've thought of lately. XD Where Desmond gives birth to Altaïr, Ezio and Ratonhnhaké:ton before being kidnapped. I've personally had him just suddenly become pregnant, no sex needed to lean more into the "Desmond is the Chosen One". XD Plus, we need more Dadmond tbh.

Virgin Birth.

Desmond had never even heard about it until he googled ‘Is it possible to get pregnant without having sex?’.

This is, according to Wikipedia, different from Immaculate Conception.

Desmond would like to reiterate that he was not the second coming of Virgin Mary.

… as far as he knew.

Not only that, he had been a virgin before he gave birth, having enough trust issues to fill a goddamn dam at the moment.

It wasn’t like he didn’t want to know how sex feels like.

It was more that he was still scared that his father or someone his father sent would come find him and take him away from this freedom.

He can’t go back.

He would never go back.

Especially now that he had three sons to think of.

They were born on December 21, 2005.

At least, that was what Desmond believed.

The morning of December 21, his stomach started hurting so badly he couldn’t leave his bed. The pain ebbed and flowed from paralyzing pain to almost unnoticeable, giving Desmond a chance to text that he wouldn’t make it to his shift because of ‘stomachaches’.

His boss assumed he had diarrhea and told him to stop eating weird cheap shit.

Desmond was pretty sure that wasn’t it but it wasn’t like he could go to a clinic and get this check out.

Clinics meant asking questions about who he was and his history.

Clinics left tracks that William Miles can find.

Desmond knew how the game is played.

And fuck that. Desmond wasn’t going to give up his goddamn freedom because of a stomachache.

It will come to pass.

Like every pain Desmond ever felt.

So he closed his eyes and took deep breaths. Inhaling deeply before slowly exhaling, timing his breathing to the ebb and flow of the pain.

By midday…

Desmond fell asleep.

He didn’t know if the breathing helped him fall asleep or if he had passed out from the exhaustion and pain.

When he woke up, the sun had started to set and…

The pain was gone.

His bed was a lost cause, covered in blood, but Desmond’s attention was focused on the three small forms lying on the bed between his legs.

His sons.

Three bloodied (and, Desmond was being honest, wrinkly newly born ugly) babies who were all staring at him as they make cooing sounds.

That was the day Desmond became a father.

And also the day he googled ‘Is it possible to get pregnant without having sex?’.

They were… low maintenance boys, Desmond supposed.

They only shout when they needed to get Desmond’s attention and they weren’t fussy over their drinks. They seemed a bit disgruntled every time Desmond had to change their diapers but they didn’t cry.

They rarely cry.

They only truly cry at times when they were asleep and Desmond believed that they would have nightmares during those times.

His boss was strangely alright with Desmond suddenly appearing with three babies, only looking at him with a frown as he told him that this should be his wake up call to use condoms.

Even his coworkers believed that the one day that Desmond said he was out because of ‘stomachache’ had been code for him freaking out because an ex had left him with three sons as a big fuck you or something.

The most support Desmond got from them though was letting the babies stay in the office.

He had to buy the collapsible playpen though but it was fine.

It gave him an excuse to get more shifts just to pay for his and his sons’ living expenses.

One of his coworkers asked why he didn’t just give them up for adoption. It was clear that he wasn’t ready for it.

And Desmond couldn’t explain it.

He wanted them.

They might have been a surprise but… they were his.

And…

Whenever he felt tired or felt like everything was becoming too much… just feeling them in his arms was enough.

It was enough.

Miles’ kids were strange boys.

They didn’t make any messes and they were polite… most of the time, anyway.

He knew it was bad to let Miles use his office to keep the kids. Hell, this bar was not a good place for kids and Miles should really just get a babysitter but he didn’t mind.

Miles was homeschooling them… in a way.

It wasn’t his place to give parenting advice anyway so he stayed out of whatever Miles planned for his kids. As long as they don’t hinder business, they could stay.

Altaïr was always on that second hand battered laptop that always made loud fan noises when it was turned on. They mostly kept it on because of it.

At first, he thought Altaïr was just playing in his laptop but… he was studying. Every tab he could see was either educational or… well… Wikipedia pages. Even the YouTube account Desmond shared with his sons were filled with educational videos, mostly something connected to history or engineering or technology.

Desmond liked to say that Altaïr was a genius and had been saving up to buy him a better laptop for the past year now.

Ezio, on the other hand, was more of a people’s person. He liked to talk to Desmond’s coworker before the start of their shift and he was a charming little bugger. Charming enough that many of Desmond’s coworkers started to give them food and juice boxes, saying they made too much or their parents or grandparents gave them too much food and there’s no more space in their fridge…

He was pretty sure that was Ezio’s plan from the very beginning. Build up a network of helpful adults.

Then there was Connor.

He had a different name that Desmond and his brothers use but it was hard to pronounce so he just let everyone else call him Connor.

He followed his father or one of his brothers most of the time, quiet by their side.

Observing.

He was the one who helped out the most, always following Desmond and helping him whenever they were doing their final clean up before closing for the day.

When he was with Ezio, he was always earnest with his questions, taking everything the adults tell him seriously.

When he was with Altaïr, he would lean close and read with him quietly. They would share the earbuds that they had with tape on the right wire because the casing had broken apart and watch videos quietly.

They were… nice kids.

Desmond was a good father dealt with a bad hand.

He supposed…

Buying Desmond a cheap laptop would be cheaper than raising his pay this Christmas.

Would save him more money in the long run, that’s for sure.

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eldewinddolly · 1 month

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Little Holly ! 🔥

… Yeah. You don’t wanna mess with her.

#holly short #artemis fowl #fowldom #drawing #fanart #half goblin holly for the win #I know Holly is supposed to be born around 1920s but I realized it too late #I wish I had incorporated roaring twenties design nods but alas #maybe next time #crackfic idea : what if Artemis had abducted Holly when she was the fairy equivalent of twelve years old #option 1 Butler threatens to resign and they abort mission #option 2 Holly kicks their butt #terrible idea either ways

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iamnompuehuenu · 7 days

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is this cool? like, is it an interesting premise to work on? is it cool? i think it's cool

#hws gerita #gerita #i dont know what to call this #bar au?#futuristic au?#idk #me still having to finish midsummer: haha new idea goes brr #this one looks SO fun to write but at the same time it looks like it would take so much brainpower #alas i am so very small #i cant believe this was born from seeing a “if I can prove that I never touched my balls” shitpost #I CANT EXPLAIN WHY??? IT JUST MADE SENSE TO ME #anyways it will either take me a day or a month to finally publish this au because i have no self control sooo waiting for feedback ig #its 4 am tomorrow i have to wake up at 7 am perhaps i will die

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astro-inthestars · 1 year

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I always do my best to make Omori propaganda, always. So, whenever I've been given homework that gives me the opportunity to reference Omori, know that I will absolutely POUNCE at that opportunity.

And so now... I present to you: my Math Performance Task about circles, tangents, and secants. Behold.

#rennikorambles #astroarts #technically-#well anyway #this is highly inspired by that one art from omori's sketchbook! thank god for that #because HOLY HELL you do not have any idea how hard it is to draw something creative using secants and tangents #the assignment was to draw something that includes secants and tangents and i was KEEN to make it about omori #but i was STRUGGLING #i went from several SEVERAL ideas. like stained glass symbolisms or blackspace inspirations or just GIVE UP and draw something simple #BUT ALAS THE SKETCHBOOK CAME TO SAVE ME THANK GOD IT WAS CIRCULAR IT GAVE ME IDEAS #and this was born <3 #im so normal and sane about omori :)#astrodoods

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kjzx · 4 days

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The author of the les art history blog I reblogged some of the last few drawings from is yikes so just letting you guys know. Can't be bothered to find other post with the drawings but also just letting you know that I don't support that

#The idea of a society with only girls is nice young me would've probably loved that but I'm glad I learned about that old enough to know #Any segregation based on an in born feature stenches with fascism #Alas #Also the safety I feel with women irl as compared to men is completely destroyed when the cops of what being a woman is come into play #I guess I just feel safer around people who don't have social advantage over me combined with infinite entitlement not revised for a second #Maybe it's not even about sex and gender roles at all #One way or another becoming a chromosome cop sounds fucking pathetic bro #Do what you want with your sex hormone levels and social presentation and whatever is normally covered up by clothes #And don't give platforms to the same people who take away reproductive rights #just because they are also unreasonably hateful to people who just mind their business #Especially if you wrote a few magic books in the 2000s #I've been reblogging these transphobia posts but I still feel like a post like this is long overdue #There's like. All this discourse and shit but let's remain human #Whatever posts are out there are outrageous (often deliberately so) but nothing excuses putting humans through horrible shit #Especially humans you don't and won't ever know #That's my take on the topic though

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lesenbyan · 1 year

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Anyway, I know I don't talk about race/racism well bc of many reasons so I'm not sure the clarification on the Lyse post made sense and i'm not wholly sure posts i make in the future on it will make much more sense.

But like disclaimer that i'm Just One Guy and also Just Some Guy so i'm by no means declaring myself sole arbiter of anything. But I am a person of color with a lot of thoughts on Lyse and how her arc was handled so i'm not gonna shut up about it.

#critique: Lyse Hext;#<- new tag for her specifically bc i have a lot to say on her #critique: ffxiv 4.0/x;#personal;#like i've not experienced a lot of blatant racism in my life but i can tell you what makes me uncomfortable #either as a poc or as a mixed race person #and i FOUND a lot of those trigger bc of SB #esp bc SB is when i had to rewrite Eve's story and Eve has always had my issues with not belonging baked in #so she ends up playing opposite Lyse on a lot of things bc Eve was ALSO born in Gyr Abania and left as a Baby #and she does identify as Ala Mhigan in a weird way tho she doesn't bring it up OFTEN #(she identifies as Xalea more than Ala Mhigan but she doesn’t mention that either bc then she'll have to explain bc miqo)#but like yeah! i have a lot of very personally nuanced ideas i don't say well #and i distract myself from my own point constantly

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ozzgin · 1 month

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The Mean Girl Bully Reader x Nerd Loser Yandere story sparked another red flag reader idea I had 😈

Imagine a Bratty Female Reader x Well Mannered Wealthy Male Yandere. Unlike our favorite monster whore gal, and two-faced bully, this new reader insert is super vocal about her distaste in just about everything. Hardly anything is up to her “standards.” She not only complains, but whines too! 🥳

Then her poor beau weirdly loves her despite her horrid personality. I don’t know how, I’ll leave that part of imagining up to you, but there’s my request 🥺

I just like morally grey or blatant antagonistic readers. A lot of times, it’s more fun if the reader is attractive this way to a yandere, than having stereotypical good traits, like being compassionate or respectful 😔

So please, a Bratty Female Reader x Well Mannered Wealthy Male Yandere?

-👘

I was wondering if I should just incorporate this into the Yandere CEO draft I have, but I had this sudden idea for a downright shameless relationship between a beloved, well-respected politician and a perverted, needy brat of a Darling. (I don't like politicians but alas, I needed a high-stakes public profession for this)

Yandere! Politician x Bratty! Reader

Mr. Politician is a true rarity in his field of work: well-mannered, articulate, and most importantly, genuine in his dedication. He works tirelessly for change and improvement, earning the adoration of the people. There's only one exception to his loyalty: no country ever comes before his Darling. And what a demanding Darling you are...

Content: female reader, older yandere, NSFW, some exhibitionism

Many would describe their interactions with Mr. Politician as follows: he's disciplined, confident and resourceful. A natural born leader, you can tell within seconds of meeting him that he is a man to rely on. He's spent many years in the game, and nothing can shake him out of his signature calmness. He keeps everything in pristine order, and nothing escapes his scrutiny.

There is, however, one quirk only few select people know about. A detail no one dares to discuss. It is common knowledge that Mr. Politician has a partner, yet the particularities of it are kept private. His beloved is a much younger girl, rotten to the core. It is unclear how this pairing came to be; the day Mr. Politician won his place in his prestigious office, he showed up with the mysterious feminine figure at his side.

What's certain and obvious to all witnesses is that his vocabulary quickly discards any meaning of refusal whenever he's dealing with you. It almost feels like the man worships you. He's never alluded to being religious, most likely because that role's been taken already. His eyes soften whenever directed at you, gleaming with raw adoration.

Splurging on expensive things is a given. Money has never been an issue for someone of his status. In fact, it's a handy and convenient tool he frequently uses to dampen the damage of your tantrums.

"Disgusting", you spit between your teeth, pushing the plate away and crossing your arms. The renowned chef of the Michelin star restaurant can only stare in horror before Mr. Politician intervenes with a chuckle. "Not feeling it today, huh?", he coos at you with loving strokes. "May I ask that you bring everything else from the menu?" he says in a sterner voice to the employee. "E-everything, Sir?" the waitstaff questions. "Well, naturally. I can't let my Darling starve."

"I'm bored. Let's leave now", you mention bluntly, standing in front of the heavily ornate table with a huff. "Are you sure, Darling? It's an important meeting for the country", Mr. Politician tries to plead. Around him, the other men sit baffled, observing the outrageous exchange. "Now!" you conclude louder. Before anyone can protest, your boyfriend stands up obediently and reaches out for your hand. "Then allow me to guide you, love."

A paradox. His earnest work is put to a halt if you require anything from him. Somehow, he has until now managed to juggle the two with little effort, and to his credit, there have been many instances requiring nerves of steel. Such as you paying him an unannounced visit to the office, and disliking the fact he was unavailable due to a meeting. So, you marched over to the window and promptly flashed your chest against the glass. Everyone else was focused on the opposing whiteboard; he was the only one who immediately noticed your arrival. "As you can see, the expected result is irresistible", he continued with a professional smile, tapping the graph with a marker.

Everyone knows Mr. Politician is fervently devoted to his principles. Take his last public speech, for example. Knuckles white from gripping the podium, he'd nearly choked during an eloquent -but passionate - conclusion. His face was red, his jaw tightened. He needed a moment to recollect himself, and the public waited with bated breaths, visibly emotional. Of course, they couldn't tell the outrageous truth: that you were shamelessly kneeling at his feet, pumping and teasing his erection until, at last, he let go all over your face.

"I wanted to see if you'd stumble on your words", you explain afterwards, wiping the sticky liquid off with a damp cloth. "That would've been unpleasant", he responds with a shiver. "It was live on national television."

He does not seem too bothered by the potential risk of being caught. Truly, his nonchalance knows no bounds when it comes to you. Or perhaps it is part of the charm. There's something quite depraved yet tempting about this perpetual contrast.

To return your daring favor, he gently places you onto his desk and spreads your legs, leaving trails of kisses along the inner surface of your thigh. A quick glance down confirms his suspicions: your bare bottom lays on top of confidential, rather important documents he dutifully signed hours ago. How thrilling of a feeling! He already smiles in anticipation, picturing himself as he hands over the folder to the oblivious party. He's not breaking any rules, now, is he? Nowhere in the book of etiquette does it state you mustn't fuck your beloved on top of official papers.

You gaze at the disheveled face underneath you. "One day I'll get you in trouble", you blurt out between whines. "Me? Oh, Darling. You know I always have everything under control." He lifts himself up and gives you a quick, desperate kiss. "Including you."

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere x darling #yandere headcanons #yandere imagines #yandere scenarios #male yandere x reader #yandere politician #yandere smut #yandere oc #yandere oc x reader #male yandere #older yandere

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kteezy997 · 4 months

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The Candy Man-Part Ten (the end)//W.W.

Info/Warnings: Wonka family fluff, smut at the end, calling cum “cream,” another baby making session hehe, licking chocolate off of the body, use of ice for sex play

A/N: This is kinda long, grab a snack maybe.

The third Wonka baby, a little boy, was named Cotton, as in cotton candy. Willy couldn’t name his children after anything other than candy. You had to actively stop him from giving your child the name “Chocolate.” But Cotton was cute, and sweet just like his older siblings, Maple and Mocha.

Willy told you he liked the name ‘Cherry’ for when you had another girl together. You thought it was bold of him to assume that you’d continue having more of his children. You loved him, but hated him for always being right.

After your new son was born, it was finally time for you to become Mrs. Wonka. It was your wedding day. All of the original scrubbers happily helped you and Willy orchestrate the most beautiful wedding.

It was all traditional white ribbons and touches of cotton candy pink. Your bridal bouquet was two shades of pink roses with the tiny white flowers of baby's breath.

You thought it would be a little silly for you to wear a white dress, since this was your second, and albeit, last wedding, and Willy had made you a mother three times over. Thus, you decided on an adorable blush pink gown that was satin and chenille to the floor.

Willy looked handsome as ever, as you had helped fix his curls to lay in beautiful heap on his head. You were used to working with the texture of his hair; two of you children had the same curls, and though you knew baby Cotton would most likely have the same also, he was too little to tell just yet.

Daddy Wonka wore a dark brown suit, it was an homage to chocolate, but not too over the top, which you appreciated. You thought the rich color looked quite nice on your man. He wore a boutonniere that matched your flowers. He cried as you recited your wedding vows. He was so soft, but you knew how happy he was. He had come a long way. And before you knew it, he was wiping your tears away too.

.......

In time, your kids grew, and the success of the chocolate factory allowed your family to have a rather nice life. Willy was able to hire more workers and spend more time at home with you and the kids. You and Willy would spend the workday at the factory, with you mostly in your office and Willy overseeing the candy making. And then you'd spent the latter portion of the day with the kids.

Maple and Mocha remained playful and curious, like their father. Willy would play with them in the chocolate room and let them try out new flavors he was creating. But little Cotton was more on the reserved, quiet side. He liked hanging out with you in your office. He was good with numbers and figuring, and he had a knack for solving problems, even at an early age.

All three kids got along and played well together, for the most part. They would fuss and fight now and then, like all siblings. But while the twins ran around and picked fights with each other, Cott liked to climb up into his Daddy's lap and ask him about his Grandma Wonka and how Willy remembered making chocolate bars with her. The first Wonka chocolate.

"And she would be so proud of you and your brother and sister." Willy would say to his youngest baby after looking back fondly and telling him the stories of his childhood with his mother.

You hoped you'd never forget the nights when Willy would hold little Cotton in his arms, singing "Pure Imagination" so softly, so angelically. And your sweet baby would fight the sleep that called him, but alas, his green eyes would flutter behind long lashes, and little curls would fall onto his sleepy face as his father's voice would lull him into slumber.

Willy's zest for creativity was passed to on Mae, who would spend her childhood using crayons to create designs for her Dad's candy ideas, all the way down to the style of the packaging. Her eye for color was impeccable. She never lost her sweetness, but she did develop an edge for the dramatic. Neither Willy nor you could complain about her over-the-top flair, because she was responsible for a lot of Wonka's eye-catching, and best-selling product designs.

Her twin brother was also like their father, in his love for the experimental side of the candy making. Mocha loved thinking up flavor combinations and bringing those ideas to fruition alongside Willy in the factory. There were many times where the young boy and his father would come home in need of sparkling soda to ease their stomach aches from eating too much sugar and mixing some of the wrong ingredients together.

Little Cott, however, seemed to inherit your mind for business. He loved his Daddy, of course, but he stuck to you quite often. He was always a serious, yet thoughtful child. He was a sensitive boy, and though he wasn't as into the candy making process like his artistic siblings, he was just as sweet and loving as they were. You had to admit, it was nice having your Cotton as a constant companion, as your older two kids were their father's little shadows.

As for you and Willy, things never changed, if they did it was your love growing stronger and deeper with every moment you got to spend together.

Nights of returning to the factory to visit the secret chamber never ceased. Anytime you and Willy wanted to be together and unwind, or let all of your fantasies come to light, you called one of your friends or your parents to babysit and made your way back to the chocolate factory.

Now, you could still have intimate nights at home, but three kids made it difficult at times. And in your private room, no one would ever bother you or be disturbed by anything that happened in there.

........

"Can we have another baby? I think the time is right." Willy asked you one evening after dinner. The kids were occupied with whatever game they were playing amongst the three of them.

You were surprised at his question; it was the first time you'd discussed the idea with seriousness in a long time. "You aren't happy with three kids?"

"Of course, I am, honey. That's not why. I know that you wanted to wait awhile, and the twins are almost seven and Cotton is five. I want to have just one more experience raising a baby." he took your hands, "Please, my love? Just one more, that's it. One more sweet little one, it makes me happy, creating a human that's half of you." he caressed your face, looking at you with puppy eyes. The eyes you could not say 'no' to.

"You're right. And you've been very patient, Willy. I love that you've let me take my time on deciding. My answer now is yes." you smiled, squeezing your husband's hands.

Willy grinned widley, "Really? We can?!"

"Yes, let's have another baby!"

Willy cheered and picked you up in his arms, spinning you around. "Oh honey, I'm so happy right now! I love you, y/n."

You hugged him tightly, "I love you too, Willy."

"What are you two so excited about?" quipped Maple, showing a little sass at the ripe age of nearly six and a half.

"Nothing for you to be concerned about, young lady." you responded. You didn't want to spill any beans and get the kids excited for something that hadn't happened yet. "Now, go on upstairs, it's almost time for baths."

"Ugh, I don't want to take a bath tonight." your daughter grumbled.

"Maple Wonka, don't you sass your mother, now do as she says." Willy demanded, using his stern Dad voice.

Mae rolled her eyes, "Fine." she huffed. She, along with her brothers, made their way upstairs.

As you watched them go, Willy put his arms around you from behind, and kissed your cheek.

You put your arms on his and rested your head back against him, "Mae is going to be the one to give us a run for our money." you sighed.

"Oh, it's going to be okay. She's strong, like you, but it's not a problem."

"Hmm." you put your hand in his curls, "I hope you're right."

"I'll go make sure bath time goes smoothly." he kissed your temple, parting from your embrace, "And you can think up a time for us to start making a baby."

As he started walking away, you said, "What about tomorrow night? At the factory?"

He pivoted on his heel and his eyes were wide when he caught your gaze, "Oh, that soon? Honey, I'm so excited." he said, running over to kiss your lips as you giggled.

............

The next night, Willy tied you to the bed, and had poured warm chocolate all over your nude body. He teased you with his tongue, swirling over your hard nipples, trailing down your tummy, dipping into your navel, and slipping down between your legs as he lapped up every trace of the chocolate.

He got you all worked up, sweaty, and dripping wet. Your body ached and writhed in anticipation.

He came back over to the bed with a medium sized metal bucket in his hands. "Some ice." he announced, "In case the chocolate was too warm for you."

You nodded, and he went ahead, placing a cube of ice on your lips first. You couldn't help but lick the ice as it was near your mouth, and you gave his fingers a tiny nibble as well.

He ran the ice from collarbone to collarbone, then downwards, over your nipples, making you gasp.

Willy smirked at the effect the ice was having on your body.

You held your breath as he dragged the ice down your stomach, your ribcage inflating as you held your breath. As you let out your breath, your back arched as you felt the ice on your clit, melting and dripping between your folds. Your skin was on fire, and the ice was a shock. It was almost too much. Your man had a wicked imagination.

The ice was taken away, "Feel alright, y/n?" he asked, still being your sweet Willy at this point.

"Yes." you said, weakly.

"Excellent." he said, setting the bucket of ice down. Then, he leaned down close to your ear, "Now, I'm ready to breed you." Dominant Willy had arrived. You could barely contain your excitement as he untied your wrists and ankles.

You lay on the bed as patiently as you could, and he climbed on top of you. He took your legs, propping them all the way up on his shoulders. You whimpered, as he made eye contact with you. You feet hung up on either side of his head. With a little thrust of his hips, he was inside of you.

You'd been making love to Willy for years now, sex in every sense of the word, a deep, trusting sexual relationship that you never imagined you'd have, and still, each time was like the first. You looked back to the time you took his virginity on the bear skin rug that you so despised. You fell in love right then. You knew he was special from the beginning.

"Are you gonna make me a Daddy again, my sweet?" he asked, thrusting softly, pushing his curls back as he looked down at you.

"Yes, baby. Give me that Wonka baby cream, please." you whined.

Willy dipped down, kissing you hard and he quickened his pace, "I'll give it to you.”

Your husband kissed you repeatedly, and kneaded your hips as he rammed you. You knew as his thrusts became sloppy and his breath ragged, he was close to coming. He put his forehead on yours, letting his sweat and your mix together.

You ran your hands over his strong back, his arms, then held his handsome face, “I love you, Willy Wonka, I want your baby.” you cooed.

“Oh, I love you.” he huffed, “You should be pregnant before the night is over, Mrs. Wonka." You felt his cum invade you shortly after.

Who would have thought that the innocent chocolate salesman would be saying that to the housewife he met by chance almost seven years prior?

Willy Wonka, as you knew, was never wrong, and your fourth and final child came into the world nine months, to the day, later. Cherry Wonka. She completed your beautiful family. She was the class clown of the bunch, spirited and wild as could be, with bouncing curls and a deviously cute grin. She kept you and Willy on your toes constantly, and you adored her.

A/N: Special thank you to my beta, @gatoenlaciudad ! You’ve been such an inspiration and great support throughout this series!💕

@thebetawolfgirl @musicandbooksaremyhappyplace @tchalamss @softhecreator @bitchyunknownuser @lixzey @kpopgirlbtssvt

#timothée chalamet #timmy chalamet #timothee x reader #timothée imagine #timothee chalamet smut #willy wonka #willy wonka x reader #wonka fanfic #wonka movie #wonka #wonka 2023

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thebadboyfanclub · 1 year

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She Has Your Eyes Pt. 1 (Daemon x Reader)

Alright man, this was entirely too long to put in one part, this is only part one and it’s 3k words long so let’s see how this part goes and we figure out the rest

The north has always been quite different when it came to their traditions, there was no exceptions or favouritism when it came to their children, especially when the children where Starks, to be born in the house of the dire wolf it meant you would be as strong as your sigil, daughter or a son it had no meaning

The tourney in the north was held in her honour for her 15th nameday, every house send a representative to take part in the duel, how could they know? It was not often that they had the chance to hold a stick against a Stark lady.

When Daemon got up on his horse to fight against her he had made the mistake of underestimating her, foolishly assuming that he should go soft on lady (y/n), to say he was surprised when he got knocked off quite violently was an understatement, he could still remember (y/n) taking off her helmet and her dark raven hair falling out, her strong features and tall build was compelling.

“Such a shame, I expected better from a dragon”

Her chuckle as she toyed with his reputation was a thing that would usually make his blood boil, however he laid there dumbfounded, “what a woman” he had thought as she trotted around on her stallion, the armour shined under the sunlight and Daemon had finally found his worthy opponent.

“You did well lady (y/n)”

“Well? I could have easily slashed your head off your shoulders”

“I am very thankful you refrained from such act”

“It’s a pretty head”

“To be on my shoulders or served to you in a silver platter?”

“I have yet to decide”

“I know the hour is late, although it just came to me that we have yet to present you with a gift”

“I do love gifts”

“Follow me my lady”

When (y/n) was met with Caraxes a audible gasp escaped her as she came to a halt at the Dragon being a few feet away from her. Daemon only took her hand in his to guide her closer to his dragon, Caraxes remained calm until (y/n) came close enough to sniff her, (y/n) felt her blood freeze out of fear something that did not happen often, as Caraxes appeared to accept the princess since he did not try to eat her.

“How did you know your dragon would not try to kill me?”

“I did not”

“You fucker”

The experience of riding a dragon was euphoric, the sense of freedom it brought while (y/n)s entire body shook from joy and a small dosage of fear was intriguing to Daemon, feeling her nails dig into him as she held for dear life was a scene for sore eyes, Daemon had never experience such emotions for a woman prior this.

Alas as the small folk say “all good things come to an end” and Daemon had to depart from the North, memories are such a funny thing, he could swear it was yesterday that he gave (y/n) a sweet deep kiss and got on his dragon, heading back to kings landing his stomach was turning as the red keep got bigger and bigger, when Caraxes landed Daemon wanted to throw up, he brushed it off as anxiety now he would say it was his body trying to warn him, an instinct some would say.

King Jahaerys was a king of justice, (y/n) leaned on that trait to ease her nerves at the suggestion of her being betrothed to Daemon. However Jahaerys was also a calculated man, the north was a strong force but they were never a problem, so a marriage alliance was not needed, runestone though needed a match, a union to ease the bad blood.

“Why would they say no? I am an eligible match”

“You are the perfect match my love, I guess we were… late”

“So, this is goodbye”

“I am afraid… it is”

(Y/n) could not find the strength to walk away, neither could Daemon and there they stood gawking at one another, it was (y/n)s eyes which were filled with tears that caused a reaction out of Daemon to pull her in his arms, to caress her hair as her body trembled from the sobs.

“Do not mourn me my love, I will always be with you”

Daemon had no idea of how his words would take form in a love child, (y/n) was locked up in her room for the entirety of her pregnancy and her mother was the one that tended to her instead of servants. People talk, the family could not risk the rumour of a Targaryen bastard that belonged to a married prince it would tarnish (y/n)s reputation and even be the sole cause of a war, they kept her safe until they could figure out what should they do next.

Ayleen came into the world during a snow storm, (y/n) was in labour for a full day until the babes wail was finally booming through the room, (y/n) was so exhausted that she could not even hold the small babe, her mother had to assist her so (y/n) could take a good look of her first born.

“She looks like him”

She had whispered with tears falling like a stream on her flustered cheeks, choking on sobs that no one could identify if they were from joy, relief, pain or sadness, (y/n) herself was not aware as of why was she crying in her mothers arms, cursing herself for allowing her heart to lead her and her womb for creating such a perfect thing that would not know what the true meaning of a family is.

Daemon was at the other end of Westeros, so far from his princess, still that cursed night he could not get a wink of sleep, tossing and turning in his bed tormented by images of the Stark lover calling for him while in pure agony, they had been bind for life and now he was absent at the birth of their first born, but he could feel every lick of pain, every grunt and push like he was there.

It was the only time Daemon got on one knee to pray, asking for the old gods and the new to save his lover from all harm, to shield her and spare her, even offering his own life instead of hers.

Daemon was a ghost of himself, he had left all life and warmth in the north, (y/n) was all he could think about, what was she doing? Was she dreaming of the way they laid together? Has she found a husband? Was she happy? A man that was known for his unquestionable lust for women and their presence to warm his bed was now feeling sick at the mere suggestion of bedding another woman.

The one time that he tried to get Rhea to bed to at least consummate their marriage after downing all the wine he could find Daemon flinched at Rheas touch, harshly pushing her to wobble out of her room, falling on his knee in his room and repeatedly apologising to his true love.

The morrow of that day he rode his dragon to go North, nothing was worth such agony, he must go to her or else he would die, the closer he got the colour in his face appeared, it resembled a spell he was under that would only be resolved if he was with her.

“Where is (y/n)?”

“Not here”

“You are lying, why are you keeping her from me?”

“Prince Daemon”

“Fuck off with all of that, I want to see her”

“Daemon?”

Her voice barely above a whisper from behind him took him out of his trance. Once he turned to finally see her his jaw hit the floor, she was holding a child, a tiny creature wrapped up with blankets, Daemon was confused and slightly hurt, has she already moved on? Whom was it that impregnated her? She found the gall to bed another man?

“This is Ayleen, Ayleen this is your father”

“Father? Is she”

“Yours, ours”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“You are married, I did not want to cause trouble in your”

“Unconsummated marriage”

(Y/n) was left speechless, she had found peace with the idea that she would never be around him again, she had their child, a part of him and a token of their love, she had mastered the strength to love the babe enough for the both of them.

Daemon approached her by dragging his feet, the second he could fully eyeball his daughter it was the moment he felt his heart beat so hard he thought it would come out his throat, she was so fragile, barely the size of his entire arm.

“May I hold her?”

(Y/n) let out a laugh at the question, slowly and with careful movements for the first time Daemon held his daughter, “Ayleen, my love child” he kept repeating in his brain.

“She is… I would kill for her”

“Let us hope we do not have to go to that”

“I missed it, I was not here, I could not… help you”

“I do not hold grudges Daemon, you couldn’t have possibly known”

“I failed you”

“You gave me a daughter”

“No I did not, you did it, you blessed me with the most amazing gift”

They both yearned for one another, like two moths attracted to the flame, unfortunately everyone knows how that story ends, howbeit for that moment, those very few days Daemon spend in the north with his love and daughter he had been ecstatic, to wake up next to her or see her put the babe to sleep while sitting in her rocking chair, softly signing a lullaby, every waking moment was his new found treasure.

“Give her this, it was my mothers and my grandmothers before that”

(Y/n) placed a necklace on Daemons open palm, she could barely hold herself up from the despair of being separated by her firstborn, “it would be better this way” (y/n)s mother attempted to soothe the girl that cried at the decision of Daemon taking their daughter to kings landing, deep inside she could understand the reason behind it, even that how could a mother not be in shambles over this? It simulates the pain of her heart being ripped straight out of her.

Daemon kept his daughter close to his chest as he walked in proudly to the throne room interrupting another “important” event, he couldn’t care less for what was occurring, the presence of his daughter was far more important. Viserys was stunned, to see your own brother strut in after so long with a child was shocking.

“I would like to present to the court, my first born daughter,princess Ayleen Targaryen, first of her name”

“Gods be good, the princess of runestone”

“No, princess Ayleen was not conceived in the Vale”

“If she is not from your wife… then”

“She is my daughter, a Targaryen, that is all that matters”

“My dearest love,

I hope this letters finds you and our daughter well, I have missed you dearly, the memory of the sound of your breathing while you laid next to me has been my lullaby as a drift off to slumber ever since you left the North.

You must find the strength to forgive me for not writing to you sooner, I pray you understand it has not been easy for me to adjust with you and our sweetling being away from me

I come with the best news, the Gods have blessed us with a son, a healthy little boy named Saemor, he was born 3 moons ago, I did not inform you due to how difficult this pregnancy has been, we feared he would not make it out alive.

Me and Saemor will be waiting for your arrival, come to me my love and bring our daughter with you, let us be a family even if we both know it won’t last long

Yours truly,

(Y/n)”

Daemon took this as his way out, to finally be free of the bronze Bitch and be with his true love, the mother of his now two children. When Daemon announced his departure so he could summon his second born Viserys was livid, a state that Viserys rarely took.

“Another bastard! You have stained our name forever”

“They are my rightful heirs”

“They are bastards, from an unknown woman whom you have repeatedly denied of mentioning, a low life whore you yourself are too embarrassed to reveal”

That was the last thing Daemon needed to hear, his lover had gone through one of the most painful experiences alone, frightened as her life was in danger, she survived and came out of it victorious, the scene of her holding their frail son burned his mind enough to send him over the edge.

Daemon pulled out his sword and attacked his on brother, the steel of black sister shined under the light as Daemon let it rest on Viserys neck, the king was certain he was about to be killed while Daemons eyes were demonic.

“She is my love, my beautiful wife that owns my heart, I should take your head for merely suggesting she is of low rank, I was cursed to marry a woman I despised while you were free to take the woman you loved”

“You are a mad man”

“Mayhaps, but one important rule is to never tell a mad man that they have gone mad”

Daemon was a man that had committed plenty of crimes, to kill your own brother, your blood, no that was beneath him. He pulled away his sword and just walked away, he was sure that Viserys would banish him, send him and his daughter away, Gods know what that cunt of a man Otto had whispered in his brothers ear, poisoning their bond forever.

None of it mattered any more, all he did was take his daughter up in the sky while she held on her dragon egg tightly and fleeted to his love, his Stark lady for refugee.

(Y/n) had seen Caraxes fly above her home, at once she was up on her feet and ran outside to greet him, she had not changed one bit, she was as ravishing as he remembered her to be, his soulmate wrapped her arms around him before he could even firmly land on his feet. Her embrace was all he needed to finally be able to breathe again, relief washing over him, she was alive and well, that itself meant that he could be happy.

“Ayleen, oh my precious little wolf”

“She said her first word”

“Did she? What was it?”

“Mama”

(Y/n) gasped at the word, her daughter called for her and she was not there. (Y/n) balanced her daughter in her hip as she plastered kisses wherever she could find skin, she was finally whole again, with both of her children and her Daemon United, like a true family, to gaze into (y/n)s eyes was a dream itself, though to be able to view the scene of her holding their daughter was the biggest achievement of them all

“She has your eyes”

“She has your hair, a true Targaryen princess”

“I would much rather is she had inherited your hair, to have a little stark running around the castle and cause trouble”

“Come, you must see him”

As time went on Daemon and (y/n) were in their own little world that tasted like berries and cream, Daemon would take his family up in the sky even the small babe that would nestle in his fathers arms had grown accustomed to flying, the only way they could make him sleep was to take him up to Caraxes and fly in circles.

(Y/n) would sleep holding on to Daemon like he would slip out of her fingers during the night, as the cold of the North brought them closer clinging on to the heat of each others bodies and layers of covers protected them the shimmer of the fire made her look even more beautiful, Daemon would often stay awake just a little while longer so he can gawk at her, stroking her dark hair and whispering all types of things to her.

(Y/n)s head rested on his chest she found it comforting to listen his heartbeat, it was the only way she felt like their moments were real and they weren’t just figments of her imagination.

“He will be a menacing knight”

“What if he wants to be a poet?”

“Then he will be a menacing poet”

“No, our boy will be gentle and kind, like his father”

“Have you gone rogue? Or are you hiding something from me?”

“You are the most gentle person, you think I don’t notice how you tuck our boy in his bed? You are my sweet dragon”

(Y/n) whispered in Daemons ear before he kissed her bare shoulder, Daemon and (y/n) could not get enough of each other, the tension between them compelled them to crave the other ones touch, holding hands as they experienced the road of pleasure, neither of them knew when they would have to separate again so they started clinging to the present moment for dear life.

“Don’t start rumours about my gentleness I have a reputation to uphold”

“What that you are the scary ruthless rogue prince? You have never been that, you are loving, caring, protective-“

“And hungry for my lover”

Combined by a yelp coming from (y/n) before she could even defend herself her back was on the bed with daemon laying on top of her, a soft grin decorated her lips while she gently tucked behind his ear a loose strand of his silver locks.

“I really missed you”

“I missed you too my sweet”

Daemon had grown accustomed to living in the North, just being able to bask in her aura was enough for him to be content with his new way of life. That would be his first mistake, life has tricky ways to sneak in to your dream and remind you who is really in control, Daemon had to once again ride his dragon away from his beloved family, war had ensued and he was called for aid in the Stepstones, he could deny it, he should deny it.

Requests are open!

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thought--bubble · 4 months

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In Need Of An Heir Pt 5

Aemond (Canon Era) X (Baratheon! Reader)

Warnings after the cut

In Need of an Heir Masterlist

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Banners by @arcielee

Warnings:: Forced marriage. Some fluff 😍

'Is he.....smiling at me?' You think to yourself unable to hide the look of confusion on your face. 'He couldn't possibly be smiling right now'

He notes your look of confusion and drops the smile reverting back to his usual cold, stoic look. He straightens his back and looks at you, though it looks more like he is looking through you than at you.

The Septon recites the marriage rites, but you aren't listening. You are staring at Aemond trying to get a read on him. Why was he smiling? What is he planning?

They tie a ribbon around your hands his cold boney hand under yours, and your Baratheon cloak is removed and quickly replaced with a Targaryen cloak. A cloak that feels so heavy on your shoulders your tempted to shake the damn thing off.

Then Aemond leans in for the kiss, and you just freeze. He looks at you quizzically but closes the gap, placing a chase kiss to your lips. It's so quick that you hardly felt it, but that's all it took. You're now his wife. Bound to him by law and the gods.

You feel a slight pride within yourself. you know it was pointless to fight this but the fact that you didn't lean in for the kiss had you feeling like you at the very least fought till the last breath. You won't pretend this is something you want. You will do your duty as is required by your father, the realm and the society in which you exist but if you are to do it, you want everyone to know you aren't happy about it.

Everyone is smiling and clapping as you make your way out of the Sept hand still tied to his, and you can't help but laugh. This is absurd. They act as if this is a celebration when, in reality its a jail sentence. Your crime being that you were born a woman.

There is a carriage waiting for just you and Aemond. The very first time, the two of you will be truly alone. The idea is daunting, but alas, you have no choice. He unties the ribbon around your hand setting you free for a moment before he grasps your fingers to help you up the small stairs and into the carriage. As you sit down, a wave of anxiety and annoyance flows over you. He enters behind you and takes a seat across from you.

Once he sits and the door is closed, silence falls over the carriage as the two of you silently look at each other.

For Aemond, the silence is unbearable he found himself wracking his brain, desperate to come up with some topic for discussion. For you, however, the silence was fine. Preferred, actually. It may be your duty to house Baratheon to marry this man, but it certainly wasn't your duty to walk him through proper social etiquette. If he lacked that skill, that's a problem all his own.

"Did....did you enjoy the ceremony?" Aemond asks wearily. He has a cool stoic look, but the twitching of his hands tells a slightly different story.

"As much as one could given the circumstances" you decide to look out the small window of the carriage in order to avoid eye-contact with the prince.

he sighs and taps his finger on his thigh. He did not imagine it would be this difficult to engage you in conversation. He was under the assumption that you would be grateful for the attention from him. As a lot of highborn ladies have been over the years if he was to engage them. This attitude he was not prepared for.

"Do you like the necklace?" he keeps his eye trained on the sapphire sitting on your chest.

"Yes." you respond without looking away from the window.

Aemond briefly rubs his temples in frustration but remains silent for the remainder of the ride back up to the red keep.

When the carriage arrives Aemond swiftly exits the carriage standing next to the steps holding his hand out for you. You gently grasp his fingers as you make your way down the steps. when you go to release his hand his fingers wrap around yours gently pulling you to his side.

He doesn't make eye contact as he wraps your arm around his, your brain is screaming for you to rip your arm from him and demand he not touch you, but in the interest of not making a scene and embarrassing your house you allow him to lead you to the feast. not a word is spoken the entire walk but Aemond rubs the tips of your fingers that are wrapped around his arm in a kind of comforting gesture.

This again has you confused. What exactly is he trying to do here?

The two of you enter the feast as the guests of honor. You are the first to arrive. Aemond walks you to the head table. He is to sit to the right of the king. While his mother, the dowager queen, will sit to the right. Jaehaera will sit next to her, and current hand Criston Cole will sit next to Jaehaera. You, of course, will be seated on the other side of your husband.

Aemond gently guides you to your seat and pulls out the chair for you, and you sit promptly, a growing feeling of unease at the amount of kindness he is showing you.

He slowly sinks down into the chair next to you and looks straight ahead as guests start to fill the room.

"I wish not to frighten you, just as I wish not to make you unhappy"

You don't respond but turn your head to look at him.

He continues to look straight ahead as he speaks. "I have not been the perfect man, and I understand that if you had a choice in the matter, you would not be sitting here now." He finally turns and looks at you."I am willing to accept your guidance on how I could make this..... arrangement more pleasant for you"

You shift uncomfortably in your seat, pondering his words.

He continues, "My mother was most unhappy. I do not wish to be to you the burden my father was to her."

he looks forward as Aegon is carried into the room and stands up, taking your hand as you join him.

"I'll make you a list," you say, watching Aegon be brought closer and closer.

"A list?" Aemond questions turning to you and raising an eyebrow.

"A list of the things that will make this more pleasant"

"Hmmmm," he clicks his tongue as Aegon is placed. "Very well"

When the King is sat, he doesn't make any grand speech or say anything other than a quick congratulations with a joke about his brother in the bedchamber, much to Aemond's displeasure.

Since the wedding was so rushed, there weren't more than 25 guests. A few lords dancing with their wives and Royce dancing with all of their daughters and looking gleeful as he does.

"We should dance. At least once" Aemond suggests looking on at the dancing couples.

You hesitate briefly but ultimately decide to give him a little bit of an inch. It's not a full inch. Of course, this man is still not to be trusted, but he seems to want to try and you think that maybe you should too.

"I apologize already, I'm not much of a dancer." You laugh lightly but stand.

"Me either, but no one will laugh. Not out loud anyway. " he gives you a half lipped grin and takes your hand, leading you down to the floor where the other couples are dancing.

You know now that he was being humble as he gracefully glides with you in his arms. He doesn't miss a beat or step one foot out of place he stands a vision of regality.

The celebration comes to a close much too quickly for your liking because there is only one place left to go. Aemond dismisses all notions about any kind of bedding ceremony stating he would not have any eyes but his own upon his wife in an undressed state for which you were thankful.

He takes your arm and leads you from the celebration to what is now going to be your shared chambers. Luckily you would both still have chambers of your own to run to but in these chambers. You were to be husband and wife, in all sense of those titles.

Your feet feel like they are made of lead as you walk slower and slower toward the bedchamber. You had been warned that even the kindest of men could be greedy in the bedchamber and Aemond was certainly not the kindest of men.

He opens the door to the chambers and dismisses the two chamber maids that were waiting there to assist you in removing your wedding gown stating any help you needed you would get from him.

When they leave and he shuts the door behind him he sighs.

"Lets just start with some wine shall we?"

Part 6

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throwaway-yandere · 4 months

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𝑫𝒐𝒍𝒄𝒆 𝑺𝒕𝒊𝒍 𝑵𝒖𝒐𝒗𝒐 (Yandere!Dainsleif/Reader)

a/n: I love Dainsleif with every fiber of my being, do you guys know that? Anyways, just like all Dain-fics, this one has illustrations (I hope they give Fairytale book vibes). I’d like to thank @meimeimeirin cuz this was an idea we were laughing abt at 4am and somehow I made something out of it HAHA.

Unreliable Synopsis: “Fairytale worlds follow fairytale laws. There’s always a protagonist burdened with impossible tasks who will experience the rule of three, witness transformations, find talking animals, and learn the power of kept promises. So, before you embark on your journey, "princess" (Y/n), have you heard of the Ugly Duckling’s tale?”

CW: light yandere themes, fairytale!au just for the hell of it. HURT/NO COMFORT. Late/Advanced happy birthday, Dainsleif.

"The destined knight is late," the great dragon clicked his tongue. One would expect that an inferior creature such as an ugly duckling would quake and shrink while perched on the Dragon King's hand. But their expression was nothing short of serene. There is a veneer of calm that the great Dragon Ongri did not overlook.

The "duckling" had the eyes of an old gentleman with worldly disinterests.

He was longing for death.

𝕺nce upon a time, there was an ugly duckling who was abandoned by both their siblings and mother. Oftentimes, he was pecked by his peers, sneered into thinking his big head and scarred face. were both a reason for his survival and misery all the same. The ugly duckling thought himself unloveable no matter where he went. The small waters he was born in had no room for miscreation, and when he traveled to an elderly's house elsewhere, the chickens thought him useless and undesirable. Normally, the story would've been a happier bedtime story if he had gone to meet the Royal birds and begged for them to end his life. Maybe then, he would've realized that he had not been a duck but a swan all along. But alas, our poor ugly "duckling" found his feet at the hands of the great Dragon King- Ongri's mercy.

"Will you kill me?" The ugly duckling asked calmly. "You need to release your anger, and I can be but one of many casualties."

"I am not a creature of impulse."

The divine dragon scowled. "After Bars' and Fein' deaths, the concept that this realm dubs as Time and Moments is now under my jurisdiction. I've no use for wasted breaths."

As it happens, the dragon was in a troubling situation. There is an immediate need for a substitute. Sensing the urgency of fate's call, Ongri unleashed an ancient incantation. Feathers singed into flesh, wings clipped into arms, and in a burst of radiant light, the "ugly duckling" was reborn as a human knight. His body had scar-like spots from the Divine Dragon infusing him with magic, albeit the metamorphosis was far from flawless. Even as a human, he was imperfect. Mysterious dark blue "burn lines" traced his neck and arms. With the new human's eyes still closed, the dragon spoke to him, the last for a long time: "Forget your past and this whole affair." He commanded. "Go, find and protect your princess."

It mattered not if this was the last breath Ongri would tell him, besides…

When a god applies a curse, it takes effect at a higher level of reality than the person themselves.

“(Y/n)…”

“It’s me, Dainsleif… Can you… still remember my voice?”

“…”

“I… understand that once a person reaches this stage of the curse, their senses get muted. The remnants of those who once dwelled here must have been the catalyst of your ailments worsening..”

“… I’m sorry. I am incredibly sorry that I found you at such a later time. It did not occur to me that you would be here in the Chasm.”

“In our next fairy tale, I’ll—”

“No… I cannot subject you to any more empty promises… But know this:”

“I will keep you safe from now on.”

“So, do not leave my side ever again.”

And the new knight opened his eyes.

Memories of the dragon vanished from his mind. He was now a being of larger flesh and bones without recollections of his past. Should another human take his shoes, they would know that it was a fresh awakening. His first breath tasted like rich champagnes. Golden. Even the sun shone in such resplendent light that made the world seemingly revolve around him.

His legs wobbled. Sliding onto the grassy area, he caught a sight of his hair. Blonde. Like hay— they were golden threads silkily strewn about. He soon noticed that the rest of his complexion was a light pinkish-hued color, as did the hands that prevented his head from taking a serious fall.

The reborn “ugly duckling” may have forgotten why, but he felt alienated from his own body. And he has the Divine Dragon to thank for his new vessel and plain armor.

“Help! Someone, HELP!!!”

His ears perked up. It was a scream with a fervor of a “damsel in distress”. Vent clamor as she may with her whole throat, nothing would come out of it.

But fate will not allow this untimely demise. Quick on his new feet, the new knight dashed towards the sound. No cavalry— just a single determined mind. After running for some time, the unnamed knight did not come across any souls.

That is, until he found the young maiden he was “fated” to save. She was on the ground, clinging into her wrist as though she burned her hand. In the ground laid an iron sword, begging to be drawn.

At the sight of the wild animal bearing down on her with frightening speed, the “knight” took her weapon and charged towards the scene, raising it in front of the menacing beast. He gazed at the bear that towered over him, displaying its slobbery maw and long, pointed claws. The untamed creature snarled and dropped to strike.

Perhaps the Divine Dragon saw his noble pursuits, perhaps he was naturally gifted in combat, but the bear was unable to rake the man’s body. Miraculous it was that not a single nasty laceration was left on his person. He lacked the strength to take it down in one fell swoop, but the speed he had made up for it. Like swans that swerved through the wind and flow of water, he dodged all its attacks. With a few strikes from his blade, the bear falls...

He breathed out, shaking in his boots though he tried not to show it. Straightening his body, he met the maiden’s gaze. His blue eyes met hers in a piercing gaze, nearly taunting her as his new opponent. The young lady exhaled a deep sigh of relief.

“T-Thank… you…”

Subconsciously, he circled the shoulder that recklessly swung the sword around. The new “knight” tilted his head. For what? He wished to ask, but words did not come out.

“For saving me, of course.”

The maiden gracefully stood. Her garments had lost some of their value due to the soil and dirt, but she herself was not affected in the same way. She exuded a fierceness that suggested anyone who ventured to hurt her would be receiving more than they bargained for. Instead of tucking her hair to the back, she pulled them forward, hiding her ears.

“Do allow me to introduce myself, kind knight.” She cleared her throat softly. “You may call me Princess (F/n), daughter of King Regan and current crown princess— heir to the throne upon the late Prince Pierre’s demise. May I know your name?”

…

… Silence…

The princess tilted her head.

"... Does my savior have a name?"

"... Name?"

The young man paused.

He couldn't remember his name. In actuality, he had absolutely no memory of anything. His mind was a bottomless pit with little to no air. With wide eyes, his hand moved slowly to around his neck. The act of conjuring up his supposed name left him terrified for reasons unbeknownst to him.

Does he… not have a name?

“... You must be joking.” The princess deadpanned. “How can one not have a name? Were you not baptized under the Divine Dragon’s light?”

She sounded incredibly upset by this fact. Whatever she ranted on about, it must be a human tradition.

“Do you not know how important names are—” The princess sighed, “Never mind. I shall assume you are one of those orphaned folks. Besides, if what you say is true, bestowing you a new name is a power much more potent.”

“I… want a name.” The man spoke up rather shyly, voice almost inaudbile.

"I know, I know… Huh, I usually take names rather than gifting them," the princess chuckled. She seemed wholly aware of his dilemma. "Hmm… Let me see…"

She examined his features closely. He was dressed in the traditional knightly fashion, albeit slightly altered. The holy kingdom's knights, of course, never donned masks—especially not half of one. He was strange, but there was an innocent genuineness about him. The blonde man doesn't have a polished appearance. He looked like a lost duckling.

It was rude to stare at the peculiar blue wounds on his face far too long so the princess’ eyes trailed above his hair.

"Leaf…" She pointed upward. "Leaf."

The knight blinked.

What a peculiar sounding name.

"Understood." He nodded and bowed politely. "I shall now be referred to as Leaf."

"No, I meant—" The princess cut herself off and chuckled. "Oh, well. I meant the leaf on one's head. But certainly the name Leaf does suit you fine."

“Do place your iron sword away, Leaf.” She added, cringing. “It is unbecoming of a knight to point a sword to their princess.”

“May… May I ask as to why you were attacked by a bear?”

“Quite bold of you to inquire a royal about a recent assassination attempt,” she humored him with a smile. He safely assumed she would not enact punishment for his assertiveness. “If you must satiate your curiosity, it is exactly that. An assassination attempt. They believed since my brother had fallen so easily, I myself must be an easy game since I adore wandering around the forest.”

“And they seem to be right,” Leaf muttered, wittily referring to the incident prior that arranged this fated meeting.

“Oh?” She scoffed, her polite smile remaining intact. “You’ve quite the tongue. Are you from the valleys?”

“I do not know.”

She squinted.

“Hmm, I see.” The princess exhaled and shook her head disapprovingly. “Then I am to presume that I should also use my wits to cleverly weave a background for you much like your name, Leaf?”

“You wish for me to serve you, that I can tell, and for that to happen I would need your equal assistance,” Leaf spoke solemnly. “I do not recall anything of my past, but you can always make one for me.”

Leaf knelt in front of her. Silence ensued.

“You are deadly calm for a man who wished his history be erased…” The princess muttered.

Leaf was a strange man indeed. He was perceptive, yet he spoke like fate’s pawn. That is to say, the princess noticed he only ever says the truth. His countenance conveyed little desire to adopt rebellious ideologies. To be honest, there was nothing in those contrivedly starry eyes. It was bare. A false sky.

It almost made the princess worry for his lack of self-preservation had she not been the same. Lies were always at her hands’ disposal, and she greatly hoped it was not what her heart would contain in her last pages. She didn’t wish for a life of deceit. The princess's survival solely comes from her ability to “doublespeak”.

“I see your promise. You are made of self-mettle. Although your blunt tongue may mar your fortunes sooner before you could gaze upon His Majesty, I wish to prescribe you with new duties.”

She took a deep breath.

“This directive shall not be withdrawn in the name of the Divine Dragon. Leaf, a young knight from the Valley of Gaciea who will shortly be appointed retainer to the Royal Highness, Princess (F/n), kneels before me. Until the end of time, he shall be my sword, and I will be his master. Will you keep your word and uphold the oath— the promise?”

“I will.”

Not a moment did he hesitate. Not for a second did he think there was more to life than this. It was nearly bitter. His life sounded so simple to her tongue.

But it was a contract nonetheless.

A promise that must be fulfilled.

“I find myself stirred in restless days without you my by side. You haunted me so diligently this past 500 or so years.”

“Humor me, won’t you… my b-beloved?”

“Why have you hid away from me? Why did I have to find you in this state? Furred and mute. Didn’t you take a breath to think about how much your pain would mean a greater weight for me? Have you not a second thought about how much it pains me to see you like this— bearing the fangs of the abyss and the claws of the cursed…?”

“The only sigh of relief I can release is that at least in this new sky, Ongri— no, he calls himself Zhongli these days— would get between us no more.”

“This new fairy tale… For how long do you expect me to keep this promise, (Y/n)? How many more stories must we get through for us to reach a happy ending?”

“Please… I’m begging you… Say something!!!”

“…”

“… Speak… Please… Anything…”

“Tell me about our past rendezvous. Seduce me with your musings. Anything… can't you try, just for this special day?”

“Please… don’t turn your mask away from me…”

“Do you find time to flow as quick as the waters by the stream? I am inclined to believe this sentiment. I find it astonishing that we’ve spent eleven or so moonshines joined at a hip. Time ages us but we are none the wiser.”

Leaf grunted, heaving Princess (F/n)’s inventory as she spoke. He didn’t seem distressed by the weight and his princess appeared not at all troubled as well. At least, that what it seemed on the surface. Royals must make their superiority known. Leaf knew (F/n) wanted to also carry some of the bags, but he refused.

There were several notions Leaf refused that noon. When (F/n) entertained the thought of going out as herself and by herself, he disapproved with haste. Leaf had to know where she’s going, who she was going with, what she’s going to wear— just about everything. His voice alone overwhelmed the princess enough that you’d mistake him for the king. The knight practically ordered what she would wear and what route she’d have to take if she wished to see the ongoing festival.

Being herself was a safety hazard and being alone by herself was a death wish.

To his eyes, at least. He had always been a twinge too overprotective.

It was a hectic morning with a picture-perfect, almost cliche scene of bustling streets and frolicking kids on a medieval setting. While children would swerve around adults' legs to avoid getting tagged, adults walked slowly to hear each gossip. One kid had nearly hit the princess herself, but Leaf would not allow it.

Leaf pulled (F/n) away by putting an arm over her waist. The smell of her sweet perfume surprised him. Her smell reminded him of the forest. For the knight who professed to guard her innocence, her warm body lightly pressed against his was a fleeting but almost immoral moment. He set her down slowly, gasping quietly. The princess chose not to draw attention to the troubled expression on her most reliable retainer.

It was better not to acknowledge his growing romantic interests.

To her, he is only a sword.

Even if he is a friend, at the end of the day, he’s only a weapon to be used.

The princess quickly pulled the cape down further to hide her face— mostly her ears. For reasons unknown to him, she seemed to find that part of herself worthy of great insecurity.

He cleared his throat, face dusted in a pink hue.

“You say that time affects you, but you haven’t aged a day.”

The princess laughed.

“Finally, a compliment from a man as stoic as you? Oh, what a day to rejoice!”

Leaf shook his head with a small smile.

“I had given you one on several occasions.”

“That may be true, but random bouts of flattery from you are scarce.” The princess hummed. “I vaguely recall how getting anything out of you was like trying to get a frozen little duckling to quack. Who am I? Your mother duck?”

The smirk on his face was quick, but (F/n) definitely saw it.

Several staff once questioned Leaf’s ability to speak. Many, including (F/n)’s father, were convinced he was mute. Everyone in the castle knew of the princess’s peculiar tastes and thought Leaf’s recruitment was a mere byproduct. His masked appearance and strange scars added more fuel to those rumors. When Leaf defended (F/n) from another assassination attempt in front of the king and inquired about her condition, King Regan nearly toppled from where he stood.

After being bombarded with questions, Leaf merely said he refrained from speaking since he saw no use if he wasn't talking to the princess herself. (F/n) still finds it absurd that she has to give orders for him to talk to other people.

For Leaf, it was simple: he just didn’t see the point of forming other interpersonal relationships.

(F/n) was the only one that mattered in his eyes.

Only her.

Only she is worthy to serve and protect.

“You truly are like a little duckling following his mother’s tail,” Princess (F/n) sighed. “But you have vastly improved in our time together. That, I can commend.”

“Thank you, Your Highness.” Leaf laughed softly, mocking her tone in his signature subtle way. “Oh, what a day to rejoice.”

She playfully gave him an elbow nudge. “Do not copy me, Leaf.”

“My apologies.”

Princess (F/n) was meandering around because the harvest festival was drawing closer. With her own eyes, the princess intended to see how her people were faring. Rarely did she change into a more "common" outfit and styled her hair with simplicity. Though, if you were to ask Leaf, seeing her in her most simple clothes made her far more youthful than the garbs and crown that wrinkles her smile to a frown.

“Madame, would you be interested in buying your lover here a brooch?”

Both of them stilled as a merchant called out. The undercover royal pointed to herself.

“Yes, yes, of course I’m talking to you, gorgeous!” The merchant grinned. He had silver hair that slightly covered one of his blue eyes. “Do you want matching rings instead? We’re selling for fifty percent off!”

Leaf’s gaze was stern. Despite his reservations, he knew the merchant as Alfstan, another young knight who hailed from a family of vendors. Two moonshines ago, Leaf was (forcefully) placed on training duty and had the fortune of mentoring this aspiring knight.

Mind you— nothing was particularly dubious of his wares. Leaf just simply despised having another man brazenly take your attention away. He did not find their previous exchanges pleasant. Not when Alfstan often joked about replacing his position one day.

What hubris.

While he busied himself glaring at the poor man, the princess awkwardly laughed and dismissively waved a hand. “Oh, no, he and I— we are not—”

“Haha, I know, I was just pulling your leg, Your Highness.” Alfstan grinned, giving Leaf a quick nod. “Morning, Sir Leaf! Were you showing the princess around?”

“Shhh! Be quiet!” (F/n)'s eyes widened.

He protectively wrapped an arm around (F/n) again, this time far more confidently.

“Yes.” Leaf spoke, voice as solid as his resolve.

“Mind if I tag along?”

His stare sharpened. “I would very much mind, now return to your stall.”

The princess shook her head, poorly judging her retainer’s possessive words as acts of protection. Instead, she dwelled on their attire. “Drats, was our disguise that fragile?”

Alfstan assessed her from top to bottom, which made Leaf even more tense. “Eh, you’re really gorgeous that no cloak can hide your beauty, Your Highness.”

“I have to agree,” Leaf said stiffly, clearing his throat. “Perhaps I should hide her in a hay sack. WIthout your prying eyes.”

(F/n) raised an eyebrow. “And what? And be suspected of kidnapping me instead?”

Leaf shrugged. “Does that sound like an offense I would commit?”

Alfstan rolled his eyes. “Well, obviously. Besides, the only way you wouldn’t get caught is if you hid her in something as small as a teapot.”

And he would be right. But it will take eons to prove those suspicions as truth.

“Going back to your wares, Sir Alfstan,” (F/n) digressed. “These iron-framed tassels, are they made by your hand?”

Alfstan's respect for the princess grew.

“Yes, how did you come up with that conclusion? Most passersby believed I had ‘em commissioned from the East.”

(F/n) smiled crookedly. Leaf caught a glimpse of discomfort, but it was gone in a bat of an eye.

“I… I admire your skill with molding iron.” To the untrained ear, (F/n) sounded flustered and embarrassed. To Leaf, he was certain that she was unsure of herself. “It is commendable, how you smith your very own weapons, that is. I know many of our soldiers come to you when their blades are chipped.”

“You’ve heard of my skills?!” Alfstan beamed proudly. “Really?!”

The princess nodded. “Y-Yes…”

It was odd. Despite her high praise, her wariness remained. She looked at the blonde man. “He had also made your new Ulfberht sword too, right? It certainly pierces much better than his old one.”

Leaf didn’t bother with a reply, Alfstan made it for him.

“Yes, Your Highness. I thought it would make for a thoughtful birthday present!”

“Speaking of presents…” The princess gazed down, analyzing the items he sold once more. “What do you recommend as a gift for someone important?”

If Alfstan was elated by her earlier compliments, he could practically jump over the moon at her newest proposition.

“Oh? OH?!?”

Leaf gave (F/n) a strict yet gentle glare.

“Your Highness…”

“I still won’t let it slide!” (F/n) huffed. “I couldn’t possibly be satisfied with just new sets of armor. Alfstan, by my order, suggest a pleasant gift for the stubborn knight beside me.”

“On it!”

Without delay, the two bent down to select the ideal accessory for the man who vehemently refused. Alfstan was the only one touching the gems and (F/n) refrained from doing so. Tiny flecks of gold and iron infused the tassels, but she feared she would handle the stones carelessly.

Leaf palmed his face with one hand as the two chattered. Still, despite Leaf’s disapproving looks, he finds (F/n)’s enthusiasm to make him happy a wonderful notion in itself. To think that (F/n) would continue to insist on a present for a birthday that had since passed… She was more stubborn than he was.

“So troublesome…” He muttered with a soft smile. “I see no point in this, Princess (F/n). Serving you is a miracle enough itself—”

“Halt! Speak no more, Sir Leaf!” (F/n) exclaimed. “There! That one, Alfstan— that gem resembles his eyes, does it not?!”

“You have great tastes, Princess (F/n)!” Alfstan nodded eagerly like a motivated student. “That does look like his shade of blue— and so quick to find it among the pile, too! Are you sure you’re not some sort of custodian of natural treasures?”

Princess (F/n)’s awkward and stifled laughter can be heard again.

“What? Haha, what nonsense.” She shook her head. “Everyone calls me Princess (F/n), any other name would surely sound terrifying and mismatched.”

A nonanswer, but that made the conversation more humorous.

“Here you go!”

Alfstan reached his hand out with the tassel. (F/n) stared at him, silent and unsure. He blinked and snapped his fingers.

“Oh, right, you need a box— my deepest apologies, I was too caught up in the moment!”

The princess sighed in relief.

Leaf crossed his arms. “You’re doing well for your first time setting up a stall, Alfstan.”

“This isn’t my first and you know it, Sir!”

(F/n) laughed.

The merchant wrapped the gift she brought with care. The hush looms large around them as the merchant boastfully goes about his business, his tone comforting to her ears. The Princess walks over to the gift box once the merchant has finished. She can't help but smile because she can feel the tassel inside.

“Not exactly a surprise since Sir Leaf is here, but the packaging adds some charm, right?” Alfstan asked.

The princess couldn’t hold back a smile as she looked at the knight behind her.

“I think most of the charm comes from the person who’ll receive it,” (F/n) chuckled.

“Don’t you think so, Leaf?”

She wouldn’t know. And she’d never know a lot of things.

She never got the chance to ask her most precious knight if he liked that gift.

And she never will. No matter how many days, months, years, centuries— eons Leaf would wait, he would never hear the princess ask that same question again after this.

It would not matter if he was a judge, a prince, a knight, or a mere animal— it did not matter how many sweet new styles he would take. In the end, his arms will always be empty. Everything was pre-ordained. Dying in his arms, whether it’s slow and painful or mercilessly quick— will remain as the last line. He will always hold on to your corpse, warmth draining.

This was your fate, (F/n)— no, (Y/n) (L/n).

This was just the first of many branches of the Irminsul. The first of its many reiterations, possibilities, or better yet, alternate tales or "universal resets".

Princess "(F/n)" coughed, wetting the side of her lips.

"I haven't been able to p-personally attach that tassel on your s-sword, b-but… but I can spare you enough seconds to fly away…"

"Don't make haste!" Leaf gritted his teeth as he applied some pressure down her stomach. "This is not your decision to make!"

She didn't reply to his desperation, but she silently disagreed.

In her palm was the tassel, out of its box. The blue threads darkened with the taints of her blood. The metallic scent was nauseating. It weaved in a disorganized fashion around her fingers.

What a beautiful and tragic loom of fate, to love someone you were bound to hold with ruin.

It would’ve hurt less if it weren’t in his colors too.

"This marks the worst day of my life," the “princess” smiled, tucking the stray hair behind Leaf's face. "And even if given the opportunity, I wouldn't dare c-change not even a minute detail about it."

As if she— as if you— have the power to change destiny.

You're not a descender.

You're just a pawn.

That's when Leaf realized how fragile life ultimately was. With the curse undoing itself, he recalled and reflected on his animal days. He understood the Divine Dragon's intense frustration over a lowly duckling's will to perish. The curse of becoming human meant knowing the greed men had, but also the beauty of their kindness.

His small bird heart was not meant for this much sorrow. His life was meant to be simple. To learn that he was not a duck, but a swan.

How was he supposed to cope that the woman he had sworn to protect was not human, but a fae?

Everyone in the kingdom knew that the king would sooner disclaim his paternity than allow the crown princess (F/n) to truly lead— but they never had any real reason to support the king for this. The princess’s words were always more kind and ponderous than that of her supposed father’s. They thought him mad. They thought him deplorable. They thought him old and senile.

But he would not be king if he were not sharp.

Why, oh why, would the princess make great efforts to constantly hide her ears? Why would the princess utter roundabout ways in speaking her “own” name? Most of all, why would the princess fear the touch of iron?

There was a simple answer: she was not the princess, but a liar.

And yet, Leaf was the sole person who did not care, for he thought himself as the worst sinner or “quack” in comparison.

The kingdom won't learn the full truth for some time after this, but the fae made a bargain with the real princess. The real princess would elope with a farm boy and, in return, the fae would take her name. The trade was not malevolent. The two women were secret friends since childhood and neither wished the other harm.

But the townsfolks had little patience. They would sooner throw pebbles and stones than kneel for a false princess.

The moral of the story, like most Brothers Grimm’s fairy tales, was simple: virtue will be rewarded, iniquity will be punished. The storytellers do not care beyond that, no matter how dark it sounds to the children who will hear it. The fae lied, therefore the kingdom shall rightfully punish her.

They better thank the dragon they oh-so admire that the court fae did not think themselves evil. They better sleep soundly, knowing that they have slaughtered a well-intentioned guardian.

For he will not and never will.

Not even with a change of title, name, and universe. Whether the land he walked on was called Gaciea, Fodlan, Belobog, the Continental, or Teyvat— what the world steals from him, he promised to take back.

There the two were, back to where it started. The same forest and patch of land where the bear had attacked her. Fate had a funny way of telling tales. Leaf can only scoff at how unimaginative it could be, sometimes.

Why couldn’t fate think of more comfortable deathbeds for the one he loved?

"You cannot allow this! I cannot allow this!" The knight gritted his teeth. "You will not die— you cannot die. You and I have a promise… You cannot break that one promise!!!”

“(F/n)” grinned.

The look in her eyes disturbed him.

She knew. It is finished. She knew that it was the last page of the book. Just living in these immortalized pages for the fae was well worth the want she had wanted.

“Consummatum est.”

Consummatum est….

Leaf gasped shakily.

“Did my life… even have meaning to you as well?”

Her expression was enough to tell him the words “who knows?” She surely did not. Her mind was buzzing and her thoughts were fizzling out. No one knows anymore. Maybe the Divine Dragon would but he would not accept any offering or prayers for these two heretics.

This is fine… He’ll forget his tears soon, surely…

He’s only a sword at her side… She never asked him to be anything more…

He should be okay, once she’s gone…

She grinned, lifelessly tracing her thumb across his cheeks. The curse is undone. The loom of fate was slowly disintegrating. Soon enough, he shall return to his original form. That of an animal. That of an ugly duckling. That of a swan who will forget his human memories.

It is finished.

On the book’s final page, there is only ever a fae’s corpse and an elegant bird watching over them. With its wings clipped back, curiously watching the light leave their eyes, he will return to the nearby riverbanks and forget what had happened. As retribution for stealing another’s identity, there will be no one left to remember who she truly was.

And that was all there was to it.

With the fae banished, the Kingdom of Gaciea lived happily ever after. THE END.

Dainsleif closed the book and lovingly looked at the “person” beside him in bed. He stroked the “person”’s light brown hair— its color reminiscent of the bear he had slain in his first life. It’s a shame he had to reunite with you in this condition. But it’s not like he would stop loving you. He doesn’t care if you’re a fae, a sinner—

Or a hilichurl.

He scooted closer beside you.

"So, does the story ring any bells, my beloved?"

Zhongli, upon recalling what happened and the curse he had inflicted on both of you to fulfill some children’s fairy tale, sought the “ugly duckling” and the “false princess”. Retired as he is, he cannot undo the fate you must play nor terminate his contract with Celestia. For consolation, he merely offered the Khaenri’ahn a teapot. Unlike the Chasm, the teapot was forever peaceful and serene. The brightness of lumenstone ores was not as comforting as the adeptal light that peeks through the drapes. This is your current place of residence. Whether you liked it or not.

"To think Nicole would entail the story of our past life." He laughed softly. "And these names... Hah... Are those the best she could conjure up to bypass possible erasure…? I suppose I should still thank her for her best efforts. I can see how challenging it would be to document our story, given how we lived through so many resets."

There’s a slice of cake paired with wooden utensils on the nightstand. If your mind had not deteriorated, you might’ve assumed they were gifts from the aforementioned Nicole and the Geo Archon. Unfortunately, forming a coherent thought required a mental fortitude akin to iron. You currently do not have such willpower.

“Alfstan— no… Halfdan was right. There will come a time that he’d protect you from harm and not I…” Dainsleif mumbled defeatedly, his eyes burning with tears he couldn’t let out. Far too tired to dwell on it. “He must’ve forgotten his old jests in his previous life because as far as he’s concerned, he’s simply doing his duty as a Black Serpent Knight…”

He pecked your forehead, closing his eyes.

"Did you remember, my beloved? Vacation may not have any business being in my vocabulary but it is my birthday today…" Dainsleif leaned his forehead against the cold stone that covered your face. "I know you— do not feel guilty over your lack of gifts. It is not as if I bothered to count my age since the cataclysm. I didn't want to celebrate this occasion for the past five centuries. Not when you weren't at my side..."

The blonde man turned his gaze to the floor.

How many times will he have to “reincarnate” just to see a happy ending for the both of you?

"Happy birthday… to me…" He sang weakly. "Happy birthday to me…"

The man— the former sentimental judge— the former tyrant prince— the former "ugly duckling"— and now the current bough keeper, observer of fate in this new fairy tale, trembled…

“Happy birthday, happy birthday…”

… And sobbed.

You, in your ungreedy husk of a body, tilted your head in innocence. Pain coursed through every nerve now that the Abyss Order’s cleansing equipment broke. The man before you was no different from the shadows you fought and hid from that would terrorize the dark and cold places in the Chasm you’ve instinctively called home. But somewhere deep down, you carried a complex weight that hilichurls wouldn’t normally have.

That weight was a human emotion dubbed as "pity."

You pitied the shadow that loomed and embraced you.

And your lone reluctant arm that wrapped around him was enough to make him fully break down.

His throat constricted as he cried into your inhuman shoulders. Your scent was like that of a wet duckling, and he preferred that over the blood that disgraced your form several "fairy tales" ago. Dainsleif caressed the golden band on his finger. It was the most important ring between the two that Pari Zurvan found him clutching whilst unconscious in the wilderness.

At the very least, you were safe.

And you being alive today was a good enough present for him.

You tilted your head down, feeling his warmth one last time while Dainsleif took a deep breath, singing with more air than a proper tune.

Though it was barely discernible, he could just about make out the words you muttered a phrase from the old language of Khaenri'ah. Or at least, he deluded himself that that was the case. In his catatonic mind, you spoke the words:

Happy birthday, my beloved.

"H-Happy birthday to me…"

Taglist: @pix-stuff @sagekun @vennnnn-diagram @dilucragnidvr @tnsophiaonly @lsleepysimpl @kitkareen @dxprived4-starboys

#yandere dainsleif #yandere dainsleif x reader #dainsleif #dainsleif x reader #yandere genshin #yandere genshin x reader #yandere genshin impact #yandere x reader #yandere fanfiction #yandere male

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mellowwillowy · 7 months

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HEAR ME OUT!! Please please please!!

Yandere!prince who fell in love with the lady in waiting of the princess he is supposed to marry

A forbidden love that he is ready to do WHATEVER it take to make it happend

Why would he marry a princess when there this being who can but the queen of fae to shame with theire beauty ?

I'M LISTENING NONNIE!!

Yan! Prince x (neutral-f/m) Lady-in-waiting reader

I've actually written fics similar to this concept! This one is about a princess and a crown prince, the crown prince was supposed to marry another noble of higher status but the crown prince and priest found a way to make you the wife instead! (fem! reader)

This one is about reader being the former Empress' lady-in-waiting with the crown prince snatching reader from his brother's grasp! You were supposed to marry his brother (a knight) but he broke his legs and gave him the illusion of choice by becoming a priest instead. (gn intersex reader)

And as for this concept...

mmh... I can see the Yan! Prince going feral over you... you are the most beautiful woman (right?) he has ever laid his eyes on, even more than the garden of flowers he fancies so much! What do you like? What do you dislike? He wants to know everything about you this instant. He needs to.

I don't have much to say but yeah, Yan! Prince is capable of doing anything, even going as far as convincing everyone with the stage he prepares for you. Oh, you are a guy? Just keep up with the farce and no one will know though he would wonder why the princess had a guy dressed as her lady-in-waiting... were you her fucktoy or what? That irritates him and you are not spared with his gentle ass.

I'll use Erickson again for this idea (hehehe crown prince...). Erickson, falling in love with you? The crown prince? Say goodbye to your kneecaps or ankles once he gets his hands on you.

So how does he annul this whole wedding? With the help of his twin brother, they'll both dig or make scandals that will trample the princess family's reputation. It's nothing hard for two people of status and power after all.

Now that her reputation is tarnished, the prince's family will annul the wedding and he'll convince his mother to take you in as one of her ladies-in-waiting. He'll praise you and coax her mother into taking you in, anything, as long as you get to stay under the same roof as him. You bet your life would be a living hell the moment you upset or piss him off even just for the slightest.

Next would be having your hand in marriage. This will be tough, considering his status as the crown prince. Should he convince the former Empress to make his brother the next Emperor instead? He doubts she'll allow it as the prophet's dice had chosen him to be the eldest despite being born second.

If he can't do that, then all he has to do is make a stage for you, a fake family of reputation that was at the edge of a downfall, convincing rumors of you circulating around the citizens and a load of lessons about the royalties' history.

Now that you are completely perfect, suitable to be his suitor, this nation's Empress, another problem spurts out. Noel, his brother, has also taken a liking to you.

Seriously, of all the affections he had received, he wishes to have you as well? He sure is a gutsy bastard, perhaps he should strip him from his status as a knight to teach him a lesson?

The same turn of events happened again, Noel's legs were broken, he was sent to the church and you were wed to Erickson, everything was smooth perfect.

Depending on Noel's love for you, if it was high, it'll reach the same conclusion, with him coming back to overthrow Erickson in the name of the church and God. The only difference was that you did not share that much fondness for the two of them, alas the ending had you died without any last words to them.

If his brother didn't love you that much, he wouldn't return and you are forever stuck with him until he dies. (yup, you don't get to die first, magic is not as hard as it seemed.)

#yandere male #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere scenarios #yandere x you #yandere imagines #male yandere #yandere insert #yandere oc #yandere headcanons #yandere works #yandere writing #reader insert #x reader #oc #x gn reader #CatboX

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the-writer-arrived · 3 months

Text

Lonely Birthdays No More

Synopsis: in alhaitham's opinion, birthdays are like any other days, ordinary. on this year's february 11th, alhaitham starts to think it's not so bad to treat one's birthday as a special date once in a while.

Character: alhaitham.

Warnings: gender neutral!reader; established relationship; fluff with no angst *gasps*, down bad haitham is the best haitham.

A/N: something sweet for my first hubby, love you my pookie <3

A/N 2: i'm sorry i promise this is the last time i repost this fic idk why it's been giving me such a headache 😭

Birthday celebrations were something Alhaitham never quite understood the appeal of. Why would you do all that work just to commemorate the day you were born? And why make only that day special? Wouldn't it be better if people used that excitement for something productive and avoid bringing trouble to others?

But alas, not everyone (or anyone in that matter) would share this particular opinion.

It's not a secret that Alhaitham isn't the most social butterfly in all of Sumeru. Even when he was a child, he didn't have any interest in partaking in some meaningless conversations with people he had no desire to interact with, going as far as prefering to stay at home with his grandmother and be self-taught.

Knowing that, it's not surprising that he has never celebrated his birthday with anyone other than his only family. And after his grandmother passed away, the date of his birth became just another ordinary one for him.

Others may consider it sad, but Alhaitham isn't bothered by it nor does he want other people's pity. He'd much rather pass the day in peace and quiet than having to deal with strangers saying happy birthday the whole day and disrupting his work. After all, that was one of his grandmother's wishes: for him to live a peaceful life.

This year, however, he will learn that having a less peaceful day isn't as bad as he believed.

----------

Alhaitham stands at the entrance of his living room, staring at his roommate with a deadpan look. It's far too early in the morning (in the grumpy scribe's opinion) for him to deal with the blond man's sudden desire to redecorate the place.

"What's the meaning of this mess this time, Kaveh?"

"Huh? Oh, you're up already?" The architect steps down the ladder after noticing the other man's presence, leaving to Mehrak to hang the other tip of the decoration on the wall.

"As you can see, I'm putting up the decorations for the party."

"Party? What party?" Alhaitham frowns and takes a proper look around the room. Many colorful adornments fill the space, creating a festive look that seems quite out of place when compared to the rest of the house, the big 'Happy Birthday Alhaitham' on the wall giving the answer he was looking for.

Oh, right. Today is february 11th, his birthday. Is that what all this is for? Kaveh was never one to do such a thing on years prior. No matter, he should put a stop to this before it gets more troublesome.

"Kaveh, I don't--"

"Before you say that you don't want it, I should inform you that this wasn't my idea, but rather of a certain someone's lover. Surely you're not heartless enough to ignore their wish to throw you a party? One which they have been planning for weeks, mind you."

Alhaitham purses his lips, whatever it is that he was about to say being thrown out of the window. He should have known, your behavior the last few days had been quite suspicious, always hurrying from one place to another, meeting many people. You had told him it was for a project, so he didn't think much of it.

He attempts to hide the smile that wishes to bloom in his lips with a sigh. Kaveh, on the other hand, doesn't make any effort to surpress his grin, finding amusing that his roommate folds so easily at the mere mention of you.

Of course, the scribe won't let him have his fun for too long.

"What I meant to say was that I don't think the decoration is nice enough for my tastes." He walks to one of the shelves to get a rather... peculiar ornament (one of many that his roommate tried to convince him to not buy it). "I believe this would be the final touch it needs."

"Are you kidding me?! No way! This thing would throw off the whole aesthetic!"

"Oh? Surely you're not heartless enough to ignore my wishes today of all days?"

This time, it is Kaveh's turn to fall silent. Using his own words against him, how childish can he be?!

With a glare, the architect snatches the ugly statue from Alhaitham's hand while the other leaves to the kitchen with a satisfied expression.

----------

For a house that has been considered a tad too big for two people to live in, now it seems a bit too small to host a total of seven people. Fortunately, the guests are too preoccupied having fun to be bothered by it.

Cyno has managed to snag Kaveh to his team for a two vs two round of Genius Invocation TCG, the opponent pair being Tighnari and Collei. Meanwhile, Dehya and Nilou watch the intense match from the sidelines, cheering and chatting about various things.

As for Alhaitham, he's much too busy thinking about the one person that hasn't arrived to the party yet. You're the one who planned all this, there's no way you have forgotten about it.

After noticing the scribe's restlessness (something he would deny, despite his shaky leg being a dead giveaway), Nilou told him that you were finishing something important, so that must be what it is keeping you. Still, it has been some time and even the dancer has begun worrying about your whereabouts. You're not one to be this late to an event you've been so excited about.

With one last glance to the clock, Alhaitham raises from his seat, determined to find you.

"I'll be right back."

Ignoring the offers of his friends to accompany him on his search, he goes straight to the door of his house... Only to find you about to open it with your own copy of his key, a nicely wrapped box in your other arm.

You two stare at each other for a few seconds, before he huffs a complaint.

"You're late." He crosses his arms to show you he's upset, but it only makes him look adorable in your eyes, his frown being more of a pout.

"Sorry to keep you waiting." You grin apologetically.

Alhaitham can only sigh in defeat as he brings you inside, this whole situation being a reminder of the strong influence you have over him.

The party was full of life, laughther and good food the whole time.

He received many gifts, even from the Dendro Archon herself, who apologized in her letter for not being able to attend the party but still wished to show her appreciation for all that he does for the Akademiya and Sumeru as a whole.

But, if he had to pick a favorite, it would be yours: a pair of Aranara statues, carved in wood, that resemble you and him. You explained to him that the reason of your tardiness was that you were finish painting them and, considering they would be a gift for him, you had to make it perfect, which made you lose track of time. Despite your efforts, however, the statues ended up looking a bit weird, much to your dismay. Alhaitham didn't mind at all, arguing that the imperfections were what made them perfect in his eyes, not to mention that it's a gift from you, his beloved, there should have been no doubt he would like them.

As the festivities come to an end and the last guest leave with one last 'happy birthday' to him, the scribe can finally relax. As punishment for arriving late, he said you are to stay over tonight, something you were more than happy to agree with.

He finds you in the kitchen, putting away the leftover food in the fridge and finishing cleaning up. He tried to convince you to leave the mess for tomorrow, but of course you wouldn't budge, claiming that it'd be worse for the tomorrow you. Besides, everyone helped cleaning before they left, so there wasn't much to do anyway.

Alhaitham wraps his arms around you from behind and your hand goes straight to his hair, caressing his silver locks so gently that almost makes the man purr. He only allows himself to be more touchy when it's just the two of you and there's no risk of Kaveh accidentaly interrupt the moment since he has already retired for the night, feeling quite tired from waking up quite early to decorate the house.

"Did you have fun today?" You ask, enjoying the warmth of your beloved hugging you.

"I'd give a 8 out of 10, a good score for your first time being a party organizer."

"Well, that was higher than I expected. Still, what made you deduct two points?"

He takes a moment to hum in thought.

"The location is one thing. While it was nice being in the comfort of my own house, having to deal with the clean up at the end was a bit of pain. But that only takes half a point."

"Then, what was so bad that it took me a whole point and a half?" You drop the hand from his hair to turn around to look at him with a frown.

"The fact that you made me worried."

After you arrived, Nilou and Dehya pulled you to the side while Alhaitham was distracted speaking with Collei, to tell you about how your lover had been anxious for your whereabouts. (At least, that's what they thought, not noticing the man glancing at your little group from time to time, having a good guess of what they were telling you).

"I'm sorry, Haitham..."

"It's fine, what matters is that you're okay." He takes one of your hands, observing the small cuts on the skin due to you making the wood carvings, before giving it a kiss. "Thanks for party, I had fun."

He speaks quietly, as if sharing a secret for your ears only. The warmth of his kiss and words travel all the way to your heart, feeling glad that you could make your boyfriend happy on his birthday. Even so, that doesn't stop your playful side to show up.

"I've heard that earnest thanks should be given thrice, so--hmph?!"

He interrupts your cheeky words with his lips, thightening his arms around as he feel you melt under his touch.

Today, Alhaitham has learned that birthday parties were noisy, messy and quite troublesome, but also quite fun. He thinks he won't mind having another next year, the year following that and so on, as long as he has the people he cares about by his side.

thanks for reading <3 likes, reblogs and comments are very appreciated <3

heart divider made by @/cafekitsune

pink alhatham banner (fluff) made by @/the-writer-arrived aka yours truly ;)

#blue.writes: genshin impact #blue.writes: alhaitham #blue.writes: fluff #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #alhaitham x reader #al haitham x reader #my beloved feeble scholar happy birthday <3

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