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stellaeerrantes · 9 hours

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This is extremely hot. Shout-out to the yuumori tumblr artists.

No, I'm literally melting. HOT. AAARHHGG

MADE TO CONQUER THE STARS

→ WILLIAM JAMES MORIARTY x F!READER FANTASY ROYAL AU

CW!/##: misogyny

"no matter what anyone might say to you, (name), understand this; you were made to escape these earthly bounds and to claim your rightful throne alongside the celestial titans—"

"—you were made to conquer the stars."

✦ CH 1: A Vow To The Heir

as constant and stagnant the cycle of death and life is, the eon old war also continues on and on; forever and ever. an emperor rises, he serves his purpose against the enemy empire as long as his breath will allow him to, and in the end, falls into the great deep.

the hellish, almost eternal cycle went on for centuries. that was, at least, until you were born.

"hear me, all nobles. she is a woman! firstborn as she might be — you most definitely cannot appoint her as the next heir to the throne!"

"blasphemous, grand duke! lady (name) was prophesized to bring an end to the eon long war by the gods! how dare you try and refute the divine?!"

"and yet you refuse to call her the crown princess, marquis! how hypocritical can one truly be?"

"SILENCE!"

you hear the old emperor's voice booming. and though he has become weary with age and his voice has grown hoarse, he is still the emperor—a hush falls over the high nobles that had been arguing in the meeting hall. you wince, fingers tightening around your dress as you trudge away through the hallway, not wanting to eavesdrop further than you have.

you did not want to hover over the fact that a debate in the house of nobles has begun once again, due to your birth and existence — a cruel thing life could be.

"having a pleasant evening, sister?"

your fourth brother speaks wittily, appearing out of the blue when you turn a corner. "i found a pet for you. or rather," he grins. "a 'knight' to protect you."

you are met with a man of an imposing height yet falling on the slimmer and weaker side, hair as golden as the sun and eyes as scarlet as blood. blood that has been countlessly spilled on the battlegrounds.

(e/c) pupils fall to his clothes; ornamented in expensive jewellery, scarlet clothes. a finely decorated man. in other words; like master like servant — your fourth brother was poorly trying to convey that you were nothing but a mere decoration.

you flinch when those lifeless eyes, defiant eyes that says his heart doesn't have a place for anybody, meet with yours and it was clear that your brother was insulting you.

"your royal highness." the blond's upper body falls into a deep bow, his gloved hand over his beating heart. his lashes too, you realise, are golden in colour. "it is my greatest honour to serve and protect you."

you clear your throat, lift your chin high, make an effort to seem composed — as anybody of your stature should be at all times. "lift your head." you speak, and he does. you turn to your fourth brother. "and pray tell, brother, does our father agree to this?"

"of course." he scoffs. "i found this guy," he slings a shoulder around the blond. the blond stiffens. "but father is the one who recommended him to take the position of your knight. after all, his word is absolute."

this was just a snide way of the old emperor implying that he was indifferent towards you; his daughter. perhaps he was trying to kill you off but his severe, deep rooted fear of angering the gods was holding him back — that is why he resorted to sending you such a weak looking man to 'protect' you, as he says.

✦ ₊ ♡ . ₊ ✦ . ♡ . ✦ ₊ ♡ . ₊ ✦ . ♡

"if you are uncomfortable with me, your highness, would you prefer i call upon the maids instead?" the blond speaks as his back is turned towards you; facing the wall with his hands behind his back.

it's been a few weeks since this blond has become your knight. the two of you are very much in your own worlds entirely—an odd match. everytime you try and converse with him, he finds every chance to run away—as if he doesn't want to be in the same room as you, as if it is a pain, as if it is a chore.

serving a female master surely might be.

"no, i'm-" you suck in a deep breath, trying to make the chain armour fit on your body. a woman's body was not suited for it since they were made for and used by men in war or sparring practice. "-ugh. fine."

the blond can hear you struggle from the way you're breathing hard. "you are the heir to the throne, are you not? why do you not leave the fighting and the physical combat to the knights instead?"

that strikes a nerve somewhere inside you.

clatter.

"you are my knight, are you not? why do you not leave the advising & nagging to the advisors instead?"

your knight turns to look at the dagger between his index and middle finger that you threw at him with incredible speed, and which he caught with ease.

"....forgive this fool's insolence."

william never seems to truly respect you. even when being insulted by your siblings or ministers while you're on your walks, he stays on the sidelines, takes on the role of a chameleon and stays utterly quiet.

"you have quick reflexes." your eyes shoot up, straightening yourself. the knight looks down to observe the dagger in his hand; ornamented with fine jewels and designs emblazoned onto the blade. "how much have you trained?" you question him.

"as much training as any knight was allowed to have, your royal highness." william murmurs quietly. dull, you think. he doesn't seem to have his own personality. a ragdoll or a puppet, of sorts.

"but you agree you are talented than most peers."

he hesitates. speaks: "i am proud of my capabilities."

that makes you smile, makes you think there's something there—not just this large wall he's put up.

willam watches as your body spins around, grabbing something long and sharp. it's only when you turn back that he understands what that object in your hand is, and what you're implying. "catch."

his gloved fist wraps around the metal of the sword. "..your royal highness," were you insinuating what he thought you were? surely you weren't.

"spar with me."

the blond winces at that, shaking his head furiously. "how could i? a lowly knight like me should never-" his body tenses up when he feels the sword's cool metal against his throat — right over his adam's apple.

"afraid you'll lose?" you arch an eyebrow.

william sighs. "my head, yes." he sucks in air. "i'm afraid i may accidentally hurt you, your grace."

"i thought you were proud of your skills."

"not at the cost of drawing your grace's blood."

a noise makes it's way out of you, something between a chortle and an unbelieving scoff. "you will draw blood from me either way, directly or indirectly, if you are too weak to protect me when i need you."

william has his eyebrows furrowed, but is silent. his gaze is as empty as always, always dead, never truly on you, never meeting your eyes. he looks somewhere far, far away. a place only he can see.

"..as you say, your grace."

✦ ₊ ♡ . ₊ ✦ . ♡ . ✦ ₊ ♡ . ₊ ✦ . ♡

you grip the hilt of your sword tightly. a thin line of sweat trickles down your brow, and you can feel a dull ache in your muscles from your relentless training. as the firstborn child and heir to the throne, you've pushed yourself to the limit, determined to prove your worth alongside the male knights.

william circles you warily, his keen eyes scanning for any openings, but he's hesitant in his movements. "i don't wish to hurt you, your grace," he says, his brows creased in concern. "perhaps we should call it off?"

you feel a flash of irritation at his words, you've worked hard every day, harder than any male knight so you can be acknowledged — even if by the slightest. "do not treat me as if i am a delicate wallflower. i am your equal right now; your opponent."

a fresh cut on his cheek oozes blood, and his sleeve is ripped, exposing a nasty bruise on his forearm. he winces when he feels a particularly strong pang of pain on each of them. he's also panting, just as you are. good, you think to yourself. he's getting tired.

"hff..haa.."

you can feel a slight sting on your own skin where william's blade had grazed you earlier. with a huff and a sudden flurry of movement, he lunges forward, sword slicing through the air. you parry the blow, the clash of steel ringing out across the training yard.

there was no doubt about this; he was strong. you could feel it when his blade clashed against yours and he pushed against you with an almost inhuman strength. your lips curve upwards. pushing back, you counterattack, raining a flurry of blows upon him.

"you seem.. exhausted, your grace." william observes. sweat pours down your face, and your muscles scream in protest, but you refuse to give an inch.

"not as much as—" you grunt. "—you, though."

william struggles to keep up, his brow furrowed in concentration as he desperately blocks your strikes. seizing an opening, you lunge forward and sweep his legs out from under him, sending him falling to the ground. he tries to get back up, tries to search for his sword beside him but is too panicked to actually calm himself down and find it. he freezes when he feels the tip of your blade stop just shy of his throat.

and his eyes go wide.

"yield," you command, your voice firm and unyielding.

william stares up at you, his expression a mix of admiration and begrudging respect. you truly are on a level of your own. his breath is ragged and his chest is heaving up and down. from his perspective down here you look almost ethereal. divine. to him, the sun behind you and you yourself seem and are the same.

no wonder the gods chose you from every other being, no wonder you are their favourite daughter.

"i yield." he mutters.

the training ground is basked in a hue of golden. the trees rustle with the winds. "your grace," his voice is trembling as he speaks. he had underestimated you and that lead to his loss. no—even if he had been as cautious as one can be, he would have still lost, he would have still been overpowered to this extent.

you let your sword drop with trembling hands, only now realising how much of a fierce opponent he himself was now that the adrenaline has left your body. "speak."

william shakily drops to his knees, his head bowed deep. his fingers only now find his sword and he raises it past his head, holding each side. "i pledge my eternal devotion to you," he declares, his voice ringing with conviction. "i shall be your sword, your shield, your most steadfast protector. wherever your path may lead, to the heavens or to hell; i will follow you."

william's gaze lifts, and you are struck by the unwavering adoration in his eyes — a reverence that borders on the divine. for the first time you see his eyes glow. he would not just die for you; he would conquer kingdoms, he would lay waste to armies, he would move mountains to ensure your victory.

"i will follow you to the very edges of the known and the unknown worlds, if you will have me. for your breath is the very reason for my own, and your triumph is the only salvation i seek."

a knight's pledge.

"..." you can only watch in silence. it's almost beautiful the way he speaks, the loyalty that finally blooms in his gaze and his mannerisms when he looks at you.

your heart is drumming — how long you've yearned to hear this; to have your own willing knight, to serve you even if having a woman as a master is considered shameful and looked down upon by others.

slowly, you reach out and grasp the dagger, your fingers closing around the ornate hilt.

"i accept your vow, sir william," you say, your voice infused with the same reverence that shines in his eyes. william realizes that it's the first time you've spoken his name, and what a blissful thing it is, to finally serve someone worthy. "i will gladly have you at my side, as my most trusted knight.. and friend."

he smiles almost triumphantly and brings the back of your hand to his lips, pressing a soft kiss onto it.

in that moment, you know that with william by your side, there is nothing you cannot accomplish. for in his eyes, you are not just a mere princess, but a goddess, his goddess. a saviour — one to worship.

"thank you."

#grrrrrrrr #*bark bark bark*#william james moriarty

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stellaeerrantes · 21 hours

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SAVE A HORSE RIDE A KNIGHT

MADE TO CONQUER THE STARS

→ WILLIAM JAMES MORIARTY x F!READER FANTASY ROYAL AU

CW!/##: misogyny

"no matter what anyone might say to you, (name), understand this; you were made to escape these earthly bounds and to claim your rightful throne alongside the celestial titans—"

"—you were made to conquer the stars."

✦ CH 1: A Vow To The Heir

the hellish, almost eternal cycle went on for centuries. that was, at least, until you were born.

"hear me, all nobles. she is a woman! firstborn as she might be — you most definitely cannot appoint her as the next heir to the throne!"

"blasphemous, grand duke! lady (name) was prophesized to bring an end to the eon long war by the gods! how dare you try and refute the divine?!"

"and yet you refuse to call her the crown princess, marquis! how hypocritical can one truly be?"

"SILENCE!"

you did not want to hover over the fact that a debate in the house of nobles has begun once again, due to your birth and existence — a cruel thing life could be.

"having a pleasant evening, sister?"

your fourth brother speaks wittily, appearing out of the blue when you turn a corner. "i found a pet for you. or rather," he grins. "a 'knight' to protect you."

you flinch when those lifeless eyes, defiant eyes that says his heart doesn't have a place for anybody, meet with yours and it was clear that your brother was insulting you.

✦ ₊ ♡ . ₊ ✦ . ♡ . ✦ ₊ ♡ . ₊ ✦ . ♡

"if you are uncomfortable with me, your highness, would you prefer i call upon the maids instead?" the blond speaks as his back is turned towards you; facing the wall with his hands behind his back.

serving a female master surely might be.

the blond can hear you struggle from the way you're breathing hard. "you are the heir to the throne, are you not? why do you not leave the fighting and the physical combat to the knights instead?"

that strikes a nerve somewhere inside you.

clatter.

"you are my knight, are you not? why do you not leave the advising & nagging to the advisors instead?"

your knight turns to look at the dagger between his index and middle finger that you threw at him with incredible speed, and which he caught with ease.

"....forgive this fool's insolence."

"as much training as any knight was allowed to have, your royal highness." william murmurs quietly. dull, you think. he doesn't seem to have his own personality. a ragdoll or a puppet, of sorts.

"but you agree you are talented than most peers."

he hesitates. speaks: "i am proud of my capabilities."

that makes you smile, makes you think there's something there—not just this large wall he's put up.

willam watches as your body spins around, grabbing something long and sharp. it's only when you turn back that he understands what that object in your hand is, and what you're implying. "catch."

his gloved fist wraps around the metal of the sword. "..your royal highness," were you insinuating what he thought you were? surely you weren't.

"spar with me."

"afraid you'll lose?" you arch an eyebrow.

william sighs. "my head, yes." he sucks in air. "i'm afraid i may accidentally hurt you, your grace."

"i thought you were proud of your skills."

"not at the cost of drawing your grace's blood."

william has his eyebrows furrowed, but is silent. his gaze is as empty as always, always dead, never truly on you, never meeting your eyes. he looks somewhere far, far away. a place only he can see.

"..as you say, your grace."

✦ ₊ ♡ . ₊ ✦ . ♡ . ✦ ₊ ♡ . ₊ ✦ . ♡

"hff..haa.."

"you seem.. exhausted, your grace." william observes. sweat pours down your face, and your muscles scream in protest, but you refuse to give an inch.

"not as much as—" you grunt. "—you, though."

and his eyes go wide.

"yield," you command, your voice firm and unyielding.

no wonder the gods chose you from every other being, no wonder you are their favourite daughter.

"i yield." he mutters.

you let your sword drop with trembling hands, only now realising how much of a fierce opponent he himself was now that the adrenaline has left your body. "speak."

"i will follow you to the very edges of the known and the unknown worlds, if you will have me. for your breath is the very reason for my own, and your triumph is the only salvation i seek."

a knight's pledge.

"..." you can only watch in silence. it's almost beautiful the way he speaks, the loyalty that finally blooms in his gaze and his mannerisms when he looks at you.

slowly, you reach out and grasp the dagger, your fingers closing around the ornate hilt.

he smiles almost triumphantly and brings the back of your hand to his lips, pressing a soft kiss onto it.

"thank you."

#william james moriarty x reader #william james moriarty #william james moriarty x you #moriarty the patriot #yuumori liam #liam moriarty

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stellaeerrantes · 22 hours

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Omg I really like the 'scary dog privilege' metaphor! It's so accurate. I'm definitely keeping this.

I did well enough on my finals, though I think I performed better on the previous exams, but it's over now ig.

Helloooo I'm back from the dead!

Imagine this (it was playing in my head during finals lol)

(also this is obviously not a req)

William's wife (or spouse or husband, but I'll go with wife) must take the train from London to Durham, where William is, but he's too worried to let her do the trip by herself. So, he assigns Moran to escort her and ensure her safety at all times. Moran, being Moran, sees this mission as a chore, or a bother.

Moran and William's wife have contrasting personalities, and at first they hate each other, as she is more reserved and shy, while Moran is. Well, Moran.

But the train is attacked by bandits, and they attempt to rob and harass her, so Moran beats the shit out of them, and everyone's applauding including William's wife.

From that on, they develop an older brother- little sister relationship and they actually have fun together.

(William had planned the train attack 🤫🤭)

HI ROSE, WELCOME BACK :)) it's nice to hear from you again ♡

"moran is. well, moran." i snorted lmaoao

and honestly that's really cute. this is so in character for moran that i was nodding my head to every line you wrote, lol. he'd definitely think of escorting william's wife as a chore.

but yep, that doesn't mean he's a bad person or anything. he's just.. unwilling to do it, yet ends up doing it anyway lol. i wonder the reaction william's wife would have when moran's squeezing the life out of those brutes lmao.

i can also imagine just the LEVEL of smugness on his face and the pride that would bloom in his chest?? and then he tries saying something humble like, "this ain't nothing at all, they were just weak" but he isn't sincere at all when he says it lol. moran would most definitely get protective of william's wife from that point onwards and he would volunteer to go wherever she's going unless it's like the boutique or something, kinda like the 'scary dog privilege'

(LMAOO of course he did. that little schemer😭 this is reminding me of the bond and moran's friendship in their initial stages. but hey, at least his plan worked. [like it always does, that man is smart as hell] )

#and yes this man is so proud it's actually concerning #sebastian moran #sebastian moran x reader #william james moriarty x reader

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stellaeerrantes · 6 days

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I've said this before but, they're the most intelligent yet dumbest duo in this series.

#Moriarty the Patriot #Yuukoku no Moriarty #Sherlock Holmes #Doctor Watson #yuumori sherlock #yuumori john

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stellaeerrantes · 6 days

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Near death experiment

Reference from the story "The nightingale" - Christian Andersen

#nooooo #NOT his parents!#absolute pieces of trash #moriarty the patriot #yuukoku no moriarty #albert james moriarty #yuumori

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stellaeerrantes · 6 days

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just finished moriarty the patriot... this man always holds a special place in my heart

#w⁠(⁠°⁠ｏ⁠°⁠)⁠w #sherlock holmes #moriarty the patriot #yuukoku no moriarty #yuumori sherlock

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stellaeerrantes · 8 days

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William may as well be a really socially awkward man, for the lack of a better phrase, at least in hugh society events. And no one can convince me otherwise.

'Cause this guy really decided the best, and perhaps his only, way to interact with the noblewoman was giving a math lecture

AT A TEA PARTY

Also not all these ladies just casually bringing in mathematical questions for him to solve at a tea party. They probably know math is the only way they can converse with him at great length. (I doubt high society knows of any of William's interests aside from math, and that's only because it's his well-known profession).

#william moriarty #william james moriarty #moriarty the patriot #yuumori #yuumori liam #liam moriarty

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stellaeerrantes · 17 days

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I love these shoes 😔

I'd like to wear them myself actually

I will forever be salty about James Bonde's shoes in the yuumori anime

these were his shoes in the manga:

Tall and goofy, unique. No one else has shoes like him

These are his shoes in the anime:

LAME ASS HEELS

WHY

WHY DID THEY DO MY BOY SO DIRTY

He deserves better

They could have at least preserved the vibe of his shoes rather than giving him a completely different pair

Also, he was wearing the shoes to give him more height so he wouldn't be a small boi. Those lame ass heels aren't nearly as tall as his thick shoes which defeats the purpose of tall shoes in the first place

#moriarty the patriot #yuukoku no moriarty #james bonde #Bonde

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stellaeerrantes · 17 days

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I was curious how you dressed irl? Like is there a certain aesthetic you have?

Hi anon! Something between dark academia and darkest academia. ❤️♥️💕🩷💝💖

#yay funny tag haha #anon ask!

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stellaeerrantes · 17 days

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smudge of love & lipstick ✦ wj. moriarty

⚠️: a little suggestive, make out sesh with liam. not proofread.

author: creds to val dearest for the idea @.starsh1ne-va1ly btw

art by @.ogata69 on x // william j. moriarty x fem!reader

“lord william is certainly the very epitome of gentlemanliness out there, isn't he?”

“ladies...—”

“of course, lady adelaide! not only is he kind and gentle, but also smart, good-looking and...” chirping from noblewomen fade into the background. william exhales slowly, looking down at his pocket watch.

forty six minutes.

in forty six minutes he'd have to open up an entrance for his colleagues to slide in and go forth with their mission for tonight; however, with the way things were going on, women from high society clinging onto him—it certainly proved to be very difficult.

“hm..” william hums absentmindedly, gaze searching for you in the crowd. he seems to be doing this more often than usual these past few months. he tells himself it's because he's looking out for you—another colleague of his, but he knows the way he looks at you is different than the way he looks at others.

did he perhaps like you...? no way. certainly not.

“looking for someone?”

you pop up behind him, hands behind your back and a cheery smile on your lips. he stares at you too long, though, and you can't help but ask: “william?”

“ah, yes. i...” he clears his throat. “there is something i wish to talk to you about.” he glances back at the noblewomen all looking curiously at you two, eager to listen in to your conversation. a sigh. “privately.”

“oh.” you nod. “okay, sure. let us go, then?”

william gives you the smallest twitch of a smile and turns to the noblewomen with a bow to excuse himself, “pardon me, ladies. i will be right back.”

“exactly where are we going, by the way?” you question the blond when the two of you are scurrying away from the party with long, fast steps.

“somewhere private.”

“not much of a hint, willie.”

“please.”

“it was a joke.”

you could tell he was fidgety than usual. had something gone wrong with the plan? his calculations? what was the issue here? unable to ask and wanting to co-operate, you follow him silently.

“woah. pretty.” you look around when you finally enter a tall but cramped room, dark and heavy purple silk curtains draping everywhere, accompanied by the sense of incense, a table in the middle with cards along with a hand-held mirror atop it and an.. orb?

“it's a fortune reading room.” william explains when he reads the confusion and curiosity on your face.

“mm.. well,” your fingers travel across the fabrics of the purple silk lazily. “what are we doing here?”

“do you have lipstick on you?”

you pat the hidden pocket on your dress. “yep.”

“kiss me.”

you freeze. a brief, almost painful pause.

“...what?”

“kiss me.” he repeats, like the first one wasn't clear enough. “..for the success of the mission, of course. being swarmed by a horde of noble ladies would prevent me from entering the men's club and opening a route for fred to infiltrate, thus dropping the success rate from a whole 100 percent to—”

“okay, okay, okay.” you throw your hands up in the air. “i understand. just, y'know, don't speak maths.”

“my apologies.”

you make your way to the round table, take your seat, hold up the handheld mirror, pull out your lipstick and start painting your lips red. occasionally you'd happen to peek at the reflection from the mirror to william and what you'd see was:

a strange expression. heavy—yet not sad. contemplative—yet not harsh. soft and hazy—yet focused on you. fond; the way he looked at you.

“okay, i'm done.” you stand up and make your way to a william staring at you with folded arms, leaning against a wall. “how.. do i look?”

you can't help but ask.

and he can't help but answer: “ravishing.”

as always. he'd add, but that would be too much.

“here i go, then.” you lean in and william leans his head downwards. your heart beats are loud, drumming past your chest and into the open and..

a soft, barely there kiss, no—a peck on the cheek.

“...” that ended too quickly for william. he seems almost disappointed when you pull back and away.

you hand him the hand held mirror and he observes the light mark of your red lips on his right cheek.

although it was a mark enough and visible to the naked eye, it wasn't enough. for him, to be exact.

a single kiss on the cheek isn't enough for him.

“that won't cut it. we need to be convincing, (name). as much as possible.” he leans back in towards you, pulling you back to him gently by your wrist. perhaps he was being too selfish. “let me have some more.”

“..alright.” but it didn't matter anymore. especially when he feels the touch of your soft lips bless his skin once more. it starts innocent; a kiss on his nose first, then his cheeks again, one on his brow and—

“ah,” your lips press somewhere on his neck, somewhere that makes him shiver—somewhere that causes the adam's apple on his neck to move.

“oh—oops. too much?”

were you teasing him?

william looks down at you dizzily, pupils dilated and his voice is slightly hoarser, rougher when he begins speaking once again. “no.. please continue.”

and so you go on with your charity of kisses, placing them wherever his bare skin laid; more and more. bolder, harder, passionately. hotter and hotter—he feels his composure, the one he was known to hold during all difficulties snap in an instant with you.

a loud crash. and then silence.

“...liam?”

william's knee is between your legs, pushing you up against a wall—your wrists pinned against it's cold, hard texture by his long, slender hands.

“haa.. haa..” hot breaths tainting each other's skin; panting and panting. there's a look in his eyes; wild and feral, almost teetering on animalistic. his gaze falls to your lips; those soft, alluring lips of yours inviting him in for a bite. william gulps, licks his lips, contemplates, hesitates. and then pulls back shakily.

“sorry.” he mumbles hoarsely, staggering a step back in shock of his own actions. he clears his throat, trying to regain his composure. “i'm sorry, (name).”

he'd almost gone and done it. he almost, almost kissed you. almost pulled you in by your waist. almost ruined whatever relationship the two of you had—

william's eyes widen in surprise. hot, wet lips against his own trembling ones. you take a step further, fingers digging into the fabric of his sleeves, pushing yourself onto your tiptoes all the while you're stepping on his shoes. but he doesn't seem to mind.

not one bit.

he leans his head down, angles his lips to your own lips, holds you by the hips and kisses you back with the same passion, the same heat and desperation.

you pull back for air. “if you're going to do it, go all the way. don't back down—that's not like you.”

“..haha.” he's too drunk in your shared kisses, he chuckles half consciously; gaze hazy and nips on your bottom lip teasingly. your hands loop around his neck and attack him with more of your heated kisses.

and they go on for a while; lips smushed sloppily against each other—stopping only when the two of you head voices outside of the room, making you both flinch and bringing yourselves to a halt.

“before we go out..” he whispers lowly, forehead resting atop yours; his eyes are closed—his expression calm, but it was clear from his thundering heartbeat that it was the opposite.

“i must tell you something i've hidden too deep in the crevices of my heart for far too long.” a deep breath. “i do not remember when you first made an appearance in my life, all i know is you been there since—with and without your presence; you have made a home for you to live in every inch of me. every hour, every minute and every second i spend thinking and drowning in a possibility of you and me.”

and then he presses his lips against your own for the last time; infinitely softer. “i love you dearly, (name).”

he pulls back, detaching himself away from you.

both of your appearances are messy when you return from your secret little rendezvous, messy hair, half crumpled clothes and lipstick smudges everywhere. it is certainly a sight to look at and you realize nobles—men and women alike are practically gawking at the two of you. william slips past for a few minutes to finally clear a secret pathway for his colleagues to enter through and follow on with their mission, all while noblewomen swarm you with questions.

“my god, lady (name)! did you truly kiss lord william?”

“are the lipstick marks on him yours?”

“what is going on between the two of you?”

an arm wraps around your shoulder. william's back.

“i must apologise for my curtness, ladies. but i must ask that we all be calm with our queries and curiosities. can we do that? my darling seems to be feeling a little under the weather, you see.”

“p-pardon? ‘darling’? then—!" the noblewomen feel their eyes practically fall out of their sockets.

“yes,” he smiles kindly at the noblewomen. “if i'm allowed to, and would certainly feel honoured to, i can answer any questions you have in my her stead.”

click. all lights go off. people shriek. they are here.

and you are nothing but glad because at least in the dark nobody can see how red your face is burning up in embarrassment and fluster, especially when the blond pulls you in close to him protectively.

#🤤🤤#absolutely delicious #william james moriarty #william james moriarty x reader #william james moriarty x you #william james moriarty fanfic #moriarty the patriot #yuukoku no moriarty #moriarty the patriot x reader #yuukoku no moriarty x reader

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stellaeerrantes · 17 days

Text

lover of mine

pairing: William James Moriarty x reader

tags: angst, hurt/comfort but very bittersweet

summary: when i take a look at my life and all of my crimes, you're the only thing that i think i got right

warnings: mentions of death, lots of sad thoughts

A/N: ha ha .. guess who's back ... jk jk i've been away for a little while and i dipped in true fanfic author fashion BUT HEY im back now. and i was craving a bit of pain so here is a lil something angsty. its more of a character study that anything... also could you tell that ive been listening to lover of mine lmao

The serene silence of the night was interrupted by a strangled gasp, a broken intake of air momentarily cutting through the calm as a figure arose suddenly from their sleeping position, clutching their chest. Scarlet eyes flashed open, disoriented, hauntingly glancing around the room, the man trying to gather his bearings. He felt as if the walls were caving in around him, although the logical part of his brain was aware that those notions were only in his head. But lately, there was little difference between nightmares and consciousness to William.

And that was all that this was— a nightmare. A horrible fragment of his imagination seeping into his dreams and haunting his waking hours. Usually, the myriad of thoughts and emotions was kept tightly at bay in the furthest reaches of his mind, but at night when his defenses were lowered and his being slumbered, they seeped through and poisoned his dreams, his consciousness becoming a prison, caging him in. Faces flashed before his eyes, his own bloody hands, the weight of his own deeds and sins— oftentimes he felt less like a man and more like a whirling swarm of guilt, despair, and nihilty.

He directed his gaze at the ceiling, eyes tracing the veiny cracks weaving over it like spider webs, as his mind churned with thoughts. His soul was screaming out, but no sound seeped out. Power comes in response to a need, not desire. He felt no desire for bloodshed he dished out, found no enjoyment in it, yet he continued to drag himself further into hell, each step heavy as stone but unwavering, preserving what little hope was left at the cost of damning his soul. That was something he needed to do. He even abhorred violence, deeming it an absolute evil. Violence for violence was the rule of beasts, yet most days he felt as if it was the only language he knew how to speak. Maybe before long, he will become just like them, a violent animal of claws and teeth that did not know why it bit, crossing the blurry line of this dark gray area he roamed in and passing the point of no return.

A minuscule movement and soft rustling of the sheets at his side drew his attention away from his musings. He gazed down at the figure sleeping next to him peacefully, face serene and bathed in moonlight. Shadows splayed over her skin making her look even more ethereal, hair draped over the silky pillowcase forming a halo around her head. An angel— or perhaps divine punishment for his sins.

She was a being pure and unsullied by the darkness of the world; the darkness in him. Sometimes, he was almost afraid to touch her, in fear of tainting her pristine radiance with his stained hands. The mere fact that a person so far fallen like him was able to bask in the warmth she provided was as cruel as it was bitter-sweet.

She was an existence that he shouldn't have been able to approach, and the reality of that seemed too harsh and unkind in actuality, yet he often found himself wondering if that was really true, though.

Reaching out to brush away a stray lock of hair from her forehead, he once again contemplated that thought. Maybe fate wasn't evil or cruel for sending him this brilliant shard of light. Perhaps it was actually merciful, providing him with a single taste of heaven— something he thought he had no hope of ever reaching. Maybe it was kind enough to gift him with this momentary reprieve.

Her brows furrowed in her sleep as his ministrations disturbed her slumber. He slowly drew his hand back as her eyes opened, blissfully unaware of the turmoil in his. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake you."

She shook her head and inched ever so closer to him. "Why are you not asleep? You have to teach early tomorrow." Her worried gaze ran over his face. "Did something happen?"

"No, nothing." His throat was tight, each word rasping out almost painfully. "I am just... pondering."

She hummed lowly, considering him, then rose to sit next to him, leaning her head against his shoulder. "Hmm, a bad nightmare?"

He sighed deeply, bone-weary, resting his cheek against her temple. "Don't concern yourself with it. I promise I am fine."

She let out another hum, and he knew what she was attempting, yet he was too weak to refuse her. She gently cradled his hands in her lap from where they'd been clutching the sheets and started tracing little patterns with her thumbs over them. "Tell me about it"

A small wry tilting of his lips, too fleeting to be called a smile, accompanied her actions. Exactly as he predicted. She knew precisely what to do to get him to talk. And that was no fault of hers, for he always acquiesced and yielded to her wants. "When I put my life into perspective, and all of my sins and crimes I committed, you are the one singular decision in it that I think I made right."

Her hands paused their movements and her gaze flew to his face, confused and slightly vexed. "What do you mean?"

Her face was so sincere, so unwaveringly loving, that he was barely able to endure the depth of her gaze. Yet he was unable to tear his eyes away from hers as the words spilled from his trembling lips. "My only right choice was meeting you, despite all of my wrongdoings. But your place is not with me, in the shadows. You should be out under the sun, never touched by our darkness."

Her brows furrowed once again, this time more severely, and he observed her face becoming even more confused and irked. "William you are talking nonsense." She clutched his hands tighter. "I chose you, William. Promised to be by your side through the good and the bad. No one else. You"

Another piece of his soul bloomed and withered away with her words, leaving its rot embedded deep in his chest. He slowly rose one hand from her grip to rest it gently on her cheek. "How I wish I could've loved you under different circumstances."

"Stop that!" she protested, shock subsiding, replaced with indignation. "You fight for equality. You are noble. You are not evi—"

"There is nothing noble about what I do." The look he gave her was cold and mournful, closed off. Any semblance of warmth leeched out of it. "Taking someone's life— even for a greater cause— is never justice." Dropping his hand from her face, he inched away from her, pulling away as the thick walls he usually built to keep these thoughts away crumbled in her presence. As he confessed to her the depths of his despair. "I never told you this before, but I plan to die." He didn't know if saying these words was a weight off his chest, or the last nail in his proverbial coffin. "I plan to atone with my death, to disappear as the last blight on society. To end the great evil that the masses depict me to be."

"Don't you dare!" Her words were a shocked gasp. And suddenly she understood— he saw it in her eyes that she did. She saw his guilt. Guilt, and grief, and resentment, and loathing. An inescapable torment weighing him down, trapping him, crushing him under the immense pressure of his deeds. A bottomless pit pulling him into its depths of despair. She understood why he condemned wrongdoings so harshly, why he mourned the loss of life. There was probably no one who valued human life more than him, yet was forced to extinguish it to save the majority. And he saw her terror. He saw her grief, her anguish, her heartbreak.

With a sob, she threw herself in his embrace. She was shaking, trembling in his arms, and his chest caved in knowing he was the cause of her pain. Her plea was a broken whisper. "Don't you dare, William. Not like... that. Never like that. Remember our deal: Where you go, I go. If you die, I'll follow, since there is no me without you."

His mouth opened to protest, to refute her argument, to undoubtedly say something akin to her life holding more value than his, but she halted him with a firm grip on his shoulders. "Promise me!"

Her eyes were boring into his, and once again he found himself rendered speechless and unable to resist her. "I promise I won't." The falsehood tasted like ash on his tongue, and not for the first time he wanted to cut the lying appendage off. What good did it serve him if it only knew treachery and deceit? If it would only bring her more pain.

Her trembling hands wound around his figure as she hugged him tightly once again. "You are everything to me, William. I don't know what I would do without you. Please... Please never say something like that again."

A shuddering breath left his lips and he leaned completely into her, resting his head in the crook of her neck, feeling incredibly worn out and frail. "How do you not condemn me?"

Her hands slowly made their way up to brush through his hair, so achingly gentle. He couldn't remember when the last time that he'd been touched so lovingly was. Couldn't remember if he'd ever been before meeting her. "I love you, William, the broken parts and everything. Stained hands or not. I have always vowed to stay by your side. No matter how much our souls are tainted, we will spend the rest of our lives atoning for it— together. After all, is it better to just be born good or to achieve goodness through your own effort?"

She leaned back to smile at him, then brushed a soft kiss against his lips, still trembling from the onslaught of his raging inferno inside him. "Hurt and grieve but don't suffer alone. Use the pain as a motive to continue forward. You will heal and you'll rise above it all."

Oh, she was so cruel, unintentionally so. Her sincerity was like bitter wine down his throat or a poison slowly making its way through his bloodstream. The simple fact that she truly believed there was any chance of redemption for him hurt more than death by a thousand papercuts. "I was correct." His hand lightly traced her cheek once again. Every word was a wound slowly bleeding out, draining his strength with it. "I really do not deserve you."

She shook her head, somber once again. "Stop saying that. I can't think of a man more worthy of my love and redemption."

Darkness without light was an abyss. Light without darkness was blinding. You could not have a coin with only one side. Maybe they were like that. She was his perfect antithesis, his other side. The one that would grab and pull him out of the bottomless abyss of living hell, and he was the one that would ground her and shield her from flying too close to the sun. She would provide warmth to thaw away his frost, and he would keep her fire from burning out too fast. He only hoped he would be around long enough for her to not need him anymore. He hoped she wouldn't be too furious with him after he'd perished. What was another broken promise added to his ever-growing list of sins?

Because he couldn't stay with her in the light. She was still so incredibly radiant, not as far gone as he was. He knew that only the dead have seen the end of war. And that has always been his plan from the beginning. For how could he, a sinner as vile as the ones he was ridding the world of so diligently, be allowed to live in this new pristine world he was trying to create? How could she still see something good in him when he was the biggest evil that had to be eradicated? His fate has been set in stonce since the first day he took Albert's hand, maybe even before that, yet with every new day he found his resolve on that matter wavering more and more. With each kiss from her; with every touch; with every love-filled glance— she made his icy determination crumble under her warm light. He was nothing but a coward wearing the face of a revolutionary, desperately clinging to life— to her— when he knew he couldn't. But for her, he almost thought it was worth it to live.

Sometimes he felt as if he could feel time moving, slipping through his fingers, and that dreaded moment of judgment creeping up closer and closer behind him, breathing down his neck. A walking dead man— that's what he was. The person currently cradling her, whispering sweet lies and false promises, was just his shell, a ticking time bomb or a lit candle only waiting for its fuse to burn out. That is precisely why he said nothing more as she urged him to go back to sleep once again. Said nothing as she draped the covers over them. Said nothing as the stifling silence threatened to pull him under once again.

He would not be sleeping tonight, although she did not need to know that.

#this was... wow #beautiful #your writing is poetry #moriarty the patriot #mtp william #mtp x reader #william james moriarty #william moriarty #william moriarty x reader #yuukoku no moriarty

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