sweet-n-s4lty

[sweet-n-s4lty]

TAKE ME WITH YOU?! PLEASE?!?! (ᗒᗣᗕ)՞

i don’t want to live in america anymore will you help me move to australia 🥺🥺

COME HERE BB I'LL PROTECT YOU.

[sweet-n-s4lty]

I hate America.

[sweet-n-s4lty]

reblog if your inbox is always open for new members of the fandom who may be a little shy or intimidated. doesn’t matter whether or not you’re a “popular blog”; everyone here is equal and if you’re reading this as a new person/someone considering entering the fandom, we will not turn you away!!!! talk to us!! make friends!! i more than understand being shy but trust me this fandom is chill come join us in this hellhole

[sweet-n-s4lty]

You’re js as cool too, so it checks out 😋

i can't see out of my right eye

[sweet-n-s4lty]

I can NAWT hear from my right ear. we should form an alliance

i can't see out of my right eye

[sweet-n-s4lty]

SEDATE ME :(

Artober day 1: Minato's kids

[sweet-n-s4lty]

Winter's Warmer With You.

The coming winter season was always well welcomed, at least by you. Nothing compared to the content that came with the chilled gales and the childish giddiness that followed the first snowfall of the season, each ivory petal that danced through the sky acting as your own bundle of joy wrapped in icy comfort.

The ashen blankets that swept over the suburban streets of your town seemingly brought comfort with the inevitable nights by the fireplace, curled in jumpers much too big for you,  the knitted wool swallowing you whole— or the walks home from school, where the snow crunching under your boots was audible despite the soft melodies that lulled you into a comfortable stroll. 

But not everyone enjoyed winter. You knew that because your best friend didn’t.

Ino Takuma was a sucker for the milder seasons. The only cold he was able to handle was the soft whistles of chill delivered every Autumn. And Spring was, if anything, perfect. Despite spending most of it sneezing, the tip of his nose hilariously dusted a familiar shade of pink, he enjoyed the gentle rays of sunshine that melted away the ghastly icicles and brought forth the beautiful site of fresh blooms. 

He hated Summer too, make no mistake, but he could handle the sweltering hell. And at least summer was fun. 

But Winter? It was dull, gloomy, his days were filled with less time to get everything done as if the cold nights he hated so much grew greedier, swallowing the already short hours whole. 

Ino Takuma was, if anything, an avid winter hater.

“How cold is it, damn!” He chattered. He was wrapped in a huge jacket, engulfed by the black material. His mask that usually lay graciously on his head was replaced by a thick woolly hat, a courtesy of you. Thick gloves engulfed his fingers, ones that previously were around your own hands. For someone who hated Winter so much, you’d assume that he’d perhaps ready himself for the harsh climate well before the first snowfall had even started, but you’d learnt quickly that Ino hated planning maybe more than he did winter. 

“Forecast said 2 degrees. C’mon, it isn’t that bad, usually, it's worse, much much worse.” You hummed, smiling behind the scarf wrapped around your neck, the fabric coming up to cover your lips slightly.

“I hate December.” He grumbled.

“If you think about it, this is like our own version of the olive theory.” You hummed in thought, lending him an earphone. He took it gingerly and scooted closer to you, seeking a warmth you weren’t sure you could provide. 

“...We must have a lot of olive theories then, we disagree on a lot.”

“That coz you hate everything.” You laughed, resting your head on top of his as you felt a welcomed weight on your shoulder. He scoffed at that. 

He stayed with you after that. Refusing to leave the comfort of your home, situating himself snugly by the fireplace. You smiled as you walked over with a cup of hot chocolate which he graciously accepted with a wobbly “What would I do without you?” and a lopsided grin. You smiled and took a seat on the armchair, curling into a small bundle of warmth yourself.

“Thank you again for letting me stay, {Name}. I think I would’ve been pronounced dead if i stayed at my place— this is good cocoa too.” He added the last part with a boyish grin.

“What, heating doesn’t work?” 

“Nope. Shitty Landlord won’t do anything about it either— stingy pig.” He scoffed. Ino was always welcome at your home. Frankly, he was such a frequent visitor that your parents dubbed him their son, your mother fed him whenever he stopped by, and your father constantly gave advice to him, whether it was requested or not. It was sweet how his presence had wormed its way into your life, how every family photo had a little feature of him in it, whether it be him smiling alongside you, arm around your shoulder, or his skateboard in the background, aimlessly blending into the scene, or even you smiling wide, wearing a shirt he’d left during his last stay, so him here to seek refuge from the cruel sweeping gales wasn’t out of the ordinary, in fact, it was welcomed.

“You could stay with us—”

“Outta the question, ya Ma and Pa are already so welcoming, I don’t wanna intrude.” You shook your head,.

“No, stupid, they love it when you’re over, I think they like you more than me—” You chided, laughing slightly.

“ I still feel bad…” He sighed, taking a sip from his mug. You rolled your eyes, a little annoyed about how much he viewed himself as a burden than anything else. 

So now you were at his house, it was late at night and tonight, Ino declined invitation to your cosy abode— His work piling up so much, he was sure it’d take him a decade to finish it. So an unexpected visit was maybe a little more welcome than he let on. 

“Thought we could stay warm together.” 

“Wha— huh?” He chuckled through chattering teeth. You set down the many many bags you had held in your hands on the living room floor, setting down blanket after blanket, plushie after plushie, and brought a small mini heater, struggling to pull it out of your backpack. How you even fit it in there, he didn’t know, but he wanted to hug you close, so thigh you’d pop, just for even considering his hatred of the cold. “All o’ this for me?”

“Yep–” You smiled. “Thought warmth and company would be appreciated on this cold winter evening.”  He sat carefully next to you, his laptop tucked under his arm. His body was thick with the multitude of layers, it was like he’d morphed into a human pillow. You wrapped him in a particularly fuzzy blanket before covering yourself in one and resting your head, watching him work. In the next few minutes, the apartment was shrouded in snugness it lacked before.

taglist: @stillnotherapy

Lwk, not tewww proud of this one, but we move

[sweet-n-s4lty]

I send my sincerest apologies, you shall be added to the tag list when it is posted. I apologise again, mb pookie 😔

wintery fluff with ino is on the brain rn and i havent thought of anything else since the idea came to me.

[sweet-n-s4lty]

wintery fluff with ino is on the brain rn and i havent thought of anything else since the idea came to me.

[sweet-n-s4lty]

Sweater szn <3

life feels more comfortable when it's cold and cloudy outside

[sweet-n-s4lty]

sorry that i ended two consecutive messages with "lmao." i don't know why i did that. it looks really dumb doesn't it. i'll edit one to get rid of it. you can end my stupid pathetic life if you want

[sweet-n-s4lty]

SAY IT AINT SO?! WHATTTT

i'd be loving the apt redraws if bruno mars wasn't a raging zionist and if the song's producer wasn't israeli . by the way. so instead it just makes me nauseous

[sweet-n-s4lty]

ME TOO BRAH!!

"المَرْأَةُ الَّتِي تُغَلِّي نَفْسَهَا مِثْلُ الْأَلْمَاسَةِ"

"A women that covers is like a diamond"

[sweet-n-s4lty]

i hope i can wear a niqab one day :(

"المَرْأَةُ الَّتِي تُغَلِّي نَفْسَهَا مِثْلُ الْأَلْمَاسَةِ"

"A women that covers is like a diamond"

[sweet-n-s4lty]

AH, IM SORRY I FORGOT, BUT I WILL FROM NOW ON!!

and tysm, i was lwk feeling meh abt this chapter but I'm glad you like it anyways :D

Cupid & The Crown: Chapter The First.

ꪆৎ ˚⋅Yuji Itadori x reader -> Fluff + Royal AU Content Warnings: None 1.2k words. ˚⋅ᡣ𐭩

Yuji Itadori; surely a name that belonged to someone extraordinary, you’d assumed.

That was the only feasible means by which a commoner boy could be recognised by your father, especially in such a lionised manner. In fact, for the past week or so, it seemed that the angels may descend from heaven just to sing praise to his name.

At present, it felt like all that pricked up one’s ears.

You were sick of the name, sick of hearing it, and frankly, sick of him.

Autumn’s serenity eventually crept in, its cooler lull gracefully sweeping over the kingdom, leaving a familiar, cosy, rustic hue in its wake. The air constantly smelled like oncoming rain and the scent of freshly brewed coffee filled the palace walls, the residents taking refuge in a warm brew at the crack of dawn. Autumn meant a lot of things; the end of the sweltering hell that was summer, the pleasing crunch under your boots, the cinnamony change in the menus at breakfast, and finally, perhaps your favourite reason, school. Truthfully, your education never really stopped like everyone else’s did, a princess’s duty never ends, says your father– he’s like a broken record, chanting the same philosophies like a mantra– but summer does mean you’re allowed very scarce freedom that the usual academic year doesn't provide. A few more hours of free time you’d normally use for sewing or learning to play the piano were spent with frequent visits to the oasis that was the library, or better yet, accompanying the maids in the garden and gossiping like cracked bell clappers. But nothing on this earth mattered more than the pride that swelled in your chest, threatening to make you burst at the very seems, than the praise that accompanied the hard-earned results that inevitably came after your many fruitful endeavours. 

So your ambition-masked covetous nature meant that the constant praise that left your father’s mouth about this unknown boy had you green with envy. 

“Who even is he? I’ve heard his name more than my own at this point…” you huffed, embroidering patterns into a handkerchief. Nobara, your beloved, faithful friend, sat next to you, sipping a cup of freshly brewed Earl Grey tea as she listened, a smile on her lips. “What on earth are you laughing for? You’re hopeless–”

“I’m hopeless?!”

“Yes! I’m ranting my emotions to you, pouring out my poor, broken heart and you–” You sniffled dramatically, hand on your heart in faux woundedness. “You mock me?”

“Well, yes— {Name}, my love, need I remind you that you don’t know this random boy? He’s an angel according to everyone else, his reputation precedes him, boo.” You sighed, a dramatic grimace on your face, nose scrunched in stubborn defeat. 

“Dad talks my ear off about him, and he completely disregarded the fact I managed to master ‘El Contrabandista’ this morning, all gruelling 10 or so minutes of it. I feel like that’s an achievement…is it not?”

Nobara let out an ‘aw’, setting down her teacup and scooting closer to you on the stone bench, slender arms hugging around you, the deep coffee brown of frilled gown tickled against your collarbone. “Poor, academically validated princess— for what it’s worth, I think you did amazing. phenomenal, even, don't be disheartened, poor baby.”

She did have the tendency to coddle, bless her heart. Frankly, she joked whenever she sensed you were sad, but she meant well. “I’m not a baby.” 

“To me, you are–”

“We’re the same age?!”

You sat at your vanity with a frown on your face, soft, small hands entangled in your hair, belonging to the esteemed lady’s maid, Momo. She looked younger than she really was; in fact, the first day you were introduced to her, you thought her delicately framed appearance belonged to that of a child. 

Currently, she was standing behind you, carefully placing your tresses into an elegant updo before delicately placing your tiara on your head. “Perfect.”

“Yeah, perfect” You echoed.

“Say, y/n–” Momo hummed in thought. “Pray tell, why are you to be dressed as such? Don’t you usually have embroidery classes?

“I do.”

“So?”

You let out a heavy sigh. “Dad hates me.”

“Now, I doubt His Majesty could ever hate you.”

“...I digress.”

She rolled her eyes. She’s been used to your dramatics for years. Your vignette was laced with irritation and that familiar frown found its way onto your face, brow line creasing in your utter vexation. Distaste was painted all over your pretty face and she couldn’t help but pinch your cheek in teasing ire of her own. “You’re such a drama queen.” She scoffed. “You’re gonna get wrinkles if you aren’t careful.” Her shrill voice mused. Her fingers let go of your sourly puffed cheek before the pads of them replaced it. Delicately, her touch was almost like feathers dusting past your skin. She dabbed some rouge onto your skin, before cupping your face examining it and smiling.

“As gorgeous as ever, your Royal Highness.”  You felt a flush as you smiled and stood, smoothing out your dress and taking one final glance in the mirror before Miwa, your lady-in-waiting, trekked behind you, feathery steps making subtle thuds in the carpet below, so subtle it would be easy to miss if not for the silence in the halls leading up to the throne room. 

The giant oak doors unbarred, swinging out of your direction to let you through. The corroded hinges groaned in sluggish movement before screeching to a halt, your cue to finally walk in, adorned flats leading you behind your father who was sat a his throne. You took your seat at the throne behind him, nodding greeting at the head of royal knights, Maki Zenin, a woman of the strongest stature you knew, ex-duchess and lady of the Zenin family, one of the most esteemed names in the kingdom. 

The doors to the throne room slowly moved aside, a young boy in his teens having walked in. His hair was short, tufts of rose exploding off of the top of his head, the underside buzzed. His skin was sunkissed, boring the colour of a tanned ecru. He was knelt down, the knee of his breeches digging into the crimson of the soft rug below. Maki spoke up. Taking a step forward as the leader of the royal knights.

“We are here today to honour not just a squire—” Her voice boomed, bouncing off the walls of the palace. “But a young man who shows ambition to protect our kingdom. Let me reinforce that knighthood is nary just a title, but responsibility, a sworn duty to place one’s life on the line to protect our realm and our Royal Majesties.” She took a step back as the King stood. 

“Do you— Yuji Itadori— solemnly swear to serve your King in duty, serve your country, and specifically serve her Royal Highness, the princess?”

“Yes, Your Highness…”

“Then by the power vested upon me by the crown, I hereby knight you.” The sword unsheathed, glimmering steel slowly descending upon Itadori’s shoulder. As the King tucked his blade away, the boy’s eyes looked up, for a second, meeting yours. Gleaming tawny held your gaze, pools of honey swirling in mousy brown. It was hard to believe that this was your now assigned knight.

Your now sworn protector.

Lmao idk why this took so long to make but hopefully, you enjoy this but omg my first big girl project here, everybody cheer!!

©Sweet-n-salty -> MINE!!

[sweet-n-s4lty]

AH, IM SORRY I FORGOT, BUT I WILL FROM NOW ON!!

and tysm, i was lwk feeling meh abt this chapter but I'm glad you like it anyways :D

Cupid & The Crown: Chapter The First.

ꪆৎ ˚⋅Yuji Itadori x reader -> Fluff + Royal AU Content Warnings: None 1.2k words. ˚⋅ᡣ𐭩

Yuji Itadori; surely a name that belonged to someone extraordinary, you’d assumed.

That was the only feasible means by which a commoner boy could be recognised by your father, especially in such a lionised manner. In fact, for the past week or so, it seemed that the angels may descend from heaven just to sing praise to his name.

At present, it felt like all that pricked up one’s ears.

You were sick of the name, sick of hearing it, and frankly, sick of him.

Autumn’s serenity eventually crept in, its cooler lull gracefully sweeping over the kingdom, leaving a familiar, cosy, rustic hue in its wake. The air constantly smelled like oncoming rain and the scent of freshly brewed coffee filled the palace walls, the residents taking refuge in a warm brew at the crack of dawn. Autumn meant a lot of things; the end of the sweltering hell that was summer, the pleasing crunch under your boots, the cinnamony change in the menus at breakfast, and finally, perhaps your favourite reason, school. Truthfully, your education never really stopped like everyone else’s did, a princess’s duty never ends, says your father– he’s like a broken record, chanting the same philosophies like a mantra– but summer does mean you’re allowed very scarce freedom that the usual academic year doesn't provide. A few more hours of free time you’d normally use for sewing or learning to play the piano were spent with frequent visits to the oasis that was the library, or better yet, accompanying the maids in the garden and gossiping like cracked bell clappers. But nothing on this earth mattered more than the pride that swelled in your chest, threatening to make you burst at the very seems, than the praise that accompanied the hard-earned results that inevitably came after your many fruitful endeavours. 

So your ambition-masked covetous nature meant that the constant praise that left your father’s mouth about this unknown boy had you green with envy. 

“Who even is he? I’ve heard his name more than my own at this point…” you huffed, embroidering patterns into a handkerchief. Nobara, your beloved, faithful friend, sat next to you, sipping a cup of freshly brewed Earl Grey tea as she listened, a smile on her lips. “What on earth are you laughing for? You’re hopeless–”

“I’m hopeless?!”

“Yes! I’m ranting my emotions to you, pouring out my poor, broken heart and you–” You sniffled dramatically, hand on your heart in faux woundedness. “You mock me?”

“Well, yes— {Name}, my love, need I remind you that you don’t know this random boy? He’s an angel according to everyone else, his reputation precedes him, boo.” You sighed, a dramatic grimace on your face, nose scrunched in stubborn defeat. 

“Dad talks my ear off about him, and he completely disregarded the fact I managed to master ‘El Contrabandista’ this morning, all gruelling 10 or so minutes of it. I feel like that’s an achievement…is it not?”

Nobara let out an ‘aw’, setting down her teacup and scooting closer to you on the stone bench, slender arms hugging around you, the deep coffee brown of frilled gown tickled against your collarbone. “Poor, academically validated princess— for what it’s worth, I think you did amazing. phenomenal, even, don't be disheartened, poor baby.”

She did have the tendency to coddle, bless her heart. Frankly, she joked whenever she sensed you were sad, but she meant well. “I’m not a baby.” 

“To me, you are–”

“We’re the same age?!”

You sat at your vanity with a frown on your face, soft, small hands entangled in your hair, belonging to the esteemed lady’s maid, Momo. She looked younger than she really was; in fact, the first day you were introduced to her, you thought her delicately framed appearance belonged to that of a child. 

Currently, she was standing behind you, carefully placing your tresses into an elegant updo before delicately placing your tiara on your head. “Perfect.”

“Yeah, perfect” You echoed.

“Say, y/n–” Momo hummed in thought. “Pray tell, why are you to be dressed as such? Don’t you usually have embroidery classes?

“I do.”

“So?”

You let out a heavy sigh. “Dad hates me.”

“Now, I doubt His Majesty could ever hate you.”

“...I digress.”

She rolled her eyes. She’s been used to your dramatics for years. Your vignette was laced with irritation and that familiar frown found its way onto your face, brow line creasing in your utter vexation. Distaste was painted all over your pretty face and she couldn’t help but pinch your cheek in teasing ire of her own. “You’re such a drama queen.” She scoffed. “You’re gonna get wrinkles if you aren’t careful.” Her shrill voice mused. Her fingers let go of your sourly puffed cheek before the pads of them replaced it. Delicately, her touch was almost like feathers dusting past your skin. She dabbed some rouge onto your skin, before cupping your face examining it and smiling.

“As gorgeous as ever, your Royal Highness.”  You felt a flush as you smiled and stood, smoothing out your dress and taking one final glance in the mirror before Miwa, your lady-in-waiting, trekked behind you, feathery steps making subtle thuds in the carpet below, so subtle it would be easy to miss if not for the silence in the halls leading up to the throne room. 

The giant oak doors unbarred, swinging out of your direction to let you through. The corroded hinges groaned in sluggish movement before screeching to a halt, your cue to finally walk in, adorned flats leading you behind your father who was sat a his throne. You took your seat at the throne behind him, nodding greeting at the head of royal knights, Maki Zenin, a woman of the strongest stature you knew, ex-duchess and lady of the Zenin family, one of the most esteemed names in the kingdom. 

The doors to the throne room slowly moved aside, a young boy in his teens having walked in. His hair was short, tufts of rose exploding off of the top of his head, the underside buzzed. His skin was sunkissed, boring the colour of a tanned ecru. He was knelt down, the knee of his breeches digging into the crimson of the soft rug below. Maki spoke up. Taking a step forward as the leader of the royal knights.

“We are here today to honour not just a squire—” Her voice boomed, bouncing off the walls of the palace. “But a young man who shows ambition to protect our kingdom. Let me reinforce that knighthood is nary just a title, but responsibility, a sworn duty to place one’s life on the line to protect our realm and our Royal Majesties.” She took a step back as the King stood. 

“Do you— Yuji Itadori— solemnly swear to serve your King in duty, serve your country, and specifically serve her Royal Highness, the princess?”

“Yes, Your Highness…”

“Then by the power vested upon me by the crown, I hereby knight you.” The sword unsheathed, glimmering steel slowly descending upon Itadori’s shoulder. As the King tucked his blade away, the boy’s eyes looked up, for a second, meeting yours. Gleaming tawny held your gaze, pools of honey swirling in mousy brown. It was hard to believe that this was your now assigned knight.

Your now sworn protector.

Lmao idk why this took so long to make but hopefully, you enjoy this but omg my first big girl project here, everybody cheer!!

©Sweet-n-salty -> MINE!!

[sweet-n-s4lty]

Cupid & The Crown: Chapter The First.

ꪆৎ ˚⋅Yuji Itadori x reader -> Fluff + Royal AU Content Warnings: None 1.2k words. ˚⋅ᡣ𐭩

Yuji Itadori; surely a name that belonged to someone extraordinary, you’d assumed.

That was the only feasible means by which a commoner boy could be recognised by your father, especially in such a lionised manner. In fact, for the past week or so, it seemed that the angels may descend from heaven just to sing praise to his name.

At present, it felt like all that pricked up one’s ears.

You were sick of the name, sick of hearing it, and frankly, sick of him.

Autumn’s serenity eventually crept in, its cooler lull gracefully sweeping over the kingdom, leaving a familiar, cosy, rustic hue in its wake. The air constantly smelled like oncoming rain and the scent of freshly brewed coffee filled the palace walls, the residents taking refuge in a warm brew at the crack of dawn. Autumn meant a lot of things; the end of the sweltering hell that was summer, the pleasing crunch under your boots, the cinnamony change in the menus at breakfast, and finally, perhaps your favourite reason, school. Truthfully, your education never really stopped like everyone else’s did, a princess’s duty never ends, says your father– he’s like a broken record, chanting the same philosophies like a mantra– but summer does mean you’re allowed very scarce freedom that the usual academic year doesn't provide. A few more hours of free time you’d normally use for sewing or learning to play the piano were spent with frequent visits to the oasis that was the library, or better yet, accompanying the maids in the garden and gossiping like cracked bell clappers. But nothing on this earth mattered more than the pride that swelled in your chest, threatening to make you burst at the very seems, than the praise that accompanied the hard-earned results that inevitably came after your many fruitful endeavours. 

So your ambition-masked covetous nature meant that the constant praise that left your father’s mouth about this unknown boy had you green with envy. 

“Who even is he? I’ve heard his name more than my own at this point…” you huffed, embroidering patterns into a handkerchief. Nobara, your beloved, faithful friend, sat next to you, sipping a cup of freshly brewed Earl Grey tea as she listened, a smile on her lips. “What on earth are you laughing for? You’re hopeless–”

“I’m hopeless?!”

“Yes! I’m ranting my emotions to you, pouring out my poor, broken heart and you–” You sniffled dramatically, hand on your heart in faux woundedness. “You mock me?”

“Well, yes— {Name}, my love, need I remind you that you don’t know this random boy? He’s an angel according to everyone else, his reputation precedes him, boo.” You sighed, a dramatic grimace on your face, nose scrunched in stubborn defeat. 

“Dad talks my ear off about him, and he completely disregarded the fact I managed to master ‘El Contrabandista’ this morning, all gruelling 10 or so minutes of it. I feel like that’s an achievement…is it not?”

Nobara let out an ‘aw’, setting down her teacup and scooting closer to you on the stone bench, slender arms hugging around you, the deep coffee brown of frilled gown tickled against your collarbone. “Poor, academically validated princess— for what it’s worth, I think you did amazing. phenomenal, even, don't be disheartened, poor baby.”

She did have the tendency to coddle, bless her heart. Frankly, she joked whenever she sensed you were sad, but she meant well. “I’m not a baby.” 

“To me, you are–”

“We’re the same age?!”

You sat at your vanity with a frown on your face, soft, small hands entangled in your hair, belonging to the esteemed lady’s maid, Momo. She looked younger than she really was; in fact, the first day you were introduced to her, you thought her delicately framed appearance belonged to that of a child. 

Currently, she was standing behind you, carefully placing your tresses into an elegant updo before delicately placing your tiara on your head. “Perfect.”

“Yeah, perfect” You echoed.

“Say, y/n–” Momo hummed in thought. “Pray tell, why are you to be dressed as such? Don’t you usually have embroidery classes?

“I do.”

“So?”

You let out a heavy sigh. “Dad hates me.”

“Now, I doubt His Majesty could ever hate you.”

“...I digress.”

She rolled her eyes. She’s been used to your dramatics for years. Your vignette was laced with irritation and that familiar frown found its way onto your face, brow line creasing in your utter vexation. Distaste was painted all over your pretty face and she couldn’t help but pinch your cheek in teasing ire of her own. “You’re such a drama queen.” She scoffed. “You’re gonna get wrinkles if you aren’t careful.” Her shrill voice mused. Her fingers let go of your sourly puffed cheek before the pads of them replaced it. Delicately, her touch was almost like feathers dusting past your skin. She dabbed some rouge onto your skin, before cupping your face examining it and smiling.

“As gorgeous as ever, your Royal Highness.”  You felt a flush as you smiled and stood, smoothing out your dress and taking one final glance in the mirror before Miwa, your lady-in-waiting, trekked behind you, feathery steps making subtle thuds in the carpet below, so subtle it would be easy to miss if not for the silence in the halls leading up to the throne room. 

The giant oak doors unbarred, swinging out of your direction to let you through. The corroded hinges groaned in sluggish movement before screeching to a halt, your cue to finally walk in, adorned flats leading you behind your father who was sat a his throne. You took your seat at the throne behind him, nodding greeting at the head of royal knights, Maki Zenin, a woman of the strongest stature you knew, ex-duchess and lady of the Zenin family, one of the most esteemed names in the kingdom. 

The doors to the throne room slowly moved aside, a young boy in his teens having walked in. His hair was short, tufts of rose exploding off of the top of his head, the underside buzzed. His skin was sunkissed, boring the colour of a tanned ecru. He was knelt down, the knee of his breeches digging into the crimson of the soft rug below. Maki spoke up. Taking a step forward as the leader of the royal knights.

“We are here today to honour not just a squire—” Her voice boomed, bouncing off the walls of the palace. “But a young man who shows ambition to protect our kingdom. Let me reinforce that knighthood is nary just a title, but responsibility, a sworn duty to place one’s life on the line to protect our realm and our Royal Majesties.” She took a step back as the King stood. 

“Do you— Yuji Itadori— solemnly swear to serve your King in duty, serve your country, and specifically serve her Royal Highness, the princess?”

“Yes, Your Highness…”

“Then by the power vested upon me by the crown, I hereby knight you.” The sword unsheathed, glimmering steel slowly descending upon Itadori’s shoulder. As the King tucked his blade away, the boy’s eyes looked up, for a second, meeting yours. Gleaming tawny held your gaze, pools of honey swirling in mousy brown. It was hard to believe that this was your now assigned knight.

Your now sworn protector.

Lmao idk why this took so long to make but hopefully, you enjoy this but omg my first big girl project here, everybody cheer!!

©Sweet-n-salty -> MINE!!