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naeverse · 26 days

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Fortis Et Liber (1/2)

A/N: Hi guys, this is my first story back from my 'hiatus', I guess I'd call it, lol. But I hope you all enjoy it, I enjoyed writing this a lot and was heavily inspired by my recent binge watching of Game of Thrones and now partaking in watching it's prequel, House of Dragons. After finishing watching GOT, I knew I had to write Miguel as a Kingsguard. I hope the story is enjoyable, and thank you once again for your patience!

👑⚔️staring: Kingsguard!Miguel x Fem!princess Reader

🔷 Preview: You were the future of Valoria, and he was but a Kingsguard sworn to protect you—the very duty he had accepted when he was given his cloak.

His hidden desires and thoughts for you needed to cease.

They must…

“Let us…put our swords away, Your Grace,” Miguel stated, his voice hoarse, deep, and strained, but unable to break his gaze from yours. He waited for you to remove his sword from his neck, his body tense, heart pounding in his chest, with a silent plea to the gods to keep him from making a grave error here—far from the Kingdom and in the seclusion of this very forest.

You gulped, almost missing his suggestion. Nodding slowly, you drew his blade away from his throat, setting it on the grass nearby; but you found yourself incapable of moving from the spot atop him.

Your eyes roamed his face once more, finding the Kingsguard of age eight-and-thirty years old to be exceptionally alluring. You’d always found him attractive, often marveling that this was the man chosen to protect you until the end of your days.

Yet, despite your constant fascination, he seemed to have a new glow to him—a glow that made you meet his conflicted amber orbs, and your own eyes to flood with desire.

“I-I believe…I deserve a reward for my victory, Sir Miguel,”

💜summary: Being the Princess of Valoria comes with expectations of being proper, respectful, caring, and, above all, perfect. However, such a title is one you detest. You seek escape to your hidden meadow in the forest to indulge in your favorite yet forbidden pastime—swordfighting—a hobby you grew to love from observing your Kingsguard, Sir Miguel O’Hara, practice in the training yard. With this adoration for the blade, nevertheless, come taboo feelings towards the one meant to safeguard and protect you until the end of his days.

Sir Miguel O’Hara, since his early days as a knight, has learned the importance of remaining dedicated to his duties and keeping his cloak unsullied. With a raging temper, brooding aura, and an undefeated reputation in combat, the Kingsguard takes his duty seriously and handles any misdeeds with an iron fist. Yet, he harbors improper feelings for his charge, you, the Princess of Valoria. Upon discovering you training once again in your secret glade in the nearby forest, Sir Miguel finds himself torn between his duty and his own desires once more.

💎tw/cw: Age Gap, Body Worship, Cockbulge, Class differences, Cunnilingus, Desperation, First time (kinda), Forbidden love, Oral Sex, Outdoors Sex, Power Difference, Virgin Y/N

🪻Pet names: Cariño (Darling), Querida (Dear), Mi Amor (my love), Alteza (Your highness), Princesa (princess)

💙 Rating: 18+ explicit I SMUT I

💜 Word Count: 5.8k

Heavy footsteps and the clank of metal rang through the quiet castle of Valoria, a scowl adorning the always stern Kingsguard, Miguel O’Hara. But this morning, he was angrier, more furious than usual.

Like normal, Miguel awoke at the hour of the bird, the sun just rising to kiss the peak of the tallest tower of his glorious kingdom where he began his morning routine. Waking up from his bed, stretching accompanied by a few strength exercises and combat training, a quick bath, inspection of weapons, application of his armor, and lastly, to check upon you, the Princess of Valoria, his charge until the end of his days. However, upon reaching your chambers, knocking on the door, and asking if you were awake, he didn’t hear a reply.

Miguel’s jaw clenched, his mind wandering to the possibility that your adventurous spirit had grasped you once more this morning, as he called out to you again, only to be met with silence.

A growl escaped the Kingsguard, announcing his intent to force entry before kicking the door open with his metal boot. As he feared, you weren’t there.His amber eyes narrowed upon the sight of your disheveled sheets that were missing your presence. With a huff, he spun on his heel and charged down the hall.

“Out of my way! Mudarse!” he shouted, roughly pushing servants from his path, annoyed that no one had noticed the princess’ disappearance. When his eyes made contact with the guard standing duty at the front entrance, his fury blinded him.

“You.” The word was a growl as in two long strides, Miguel grasped the collar of the man’s armor, hoisting him off the ground like a ragdoll. A surprised yelp escaped the lad as the Latino’s infamous temper engulfed him.

“The princess is missing, and here you are oblivious to it. A damn jackass could guard better than you,” Miguel gritted out, his jaw clenched harshly. The man’s stammered excuses went unnoticed as Miguel couldn’t bother himself to listen.

How could he when his sacred charge, the fucking princess, was the one missing?

With a snarl, Miguel slammed the guard’s against the pillar behind him, knocking the air out of him and instantly silencing the male. Harshly, the Kingsguard yanked the man close, his metal hands tightening on the collar of the younger lad's armor.

“I want six guards searching every nook and cranny of Valoria for the princess, or I’ll have you thrown into the dungeons for your incompetence. Is that clear!?” Miguel shouted, his anger getting the best of him as his gaze alone was enough to melt wax.

Hurriedly, the distressed guard nodded, his body shaking in fear in the eight-and-thirty-year-old man’s grasp. Miguel’s stern amber eyes glared at the trembling man for a moment longer before dropping him to the ground at his feet.

“Good,” The Latino muttered, turning on his heel, not sparing the troubled knight a glance, his blue cloak swaying behind him.

The older man hastily transverse outside of the castle, the morning sun beaming down upon his face and only stoking the hot scorching ball of rage that was rampaging inside of him. He moved down the stairs of the kingdom, his mind spinning with a tumultuous mix of emotions: fear, concern, irritation, and anger.

‘The King is going to be furious if I don’t find her,’ Miguel could only think.

The mere image of the troubled and disappointed face of his Highness hastened the Kingsguard’s pace, his metal boots leading him to the stables of the castle where his horse resided.

Secretly, Miguel already knew where his princess had run off to. You were an adventurous woman who hated the life of royalty and the suffocating vice it seemed to have on you. The Latino knew your troubles well as you spoke of them often; but he’d prefer if you didn’t cause such an uproar in the kingdom every time you decided to play the role of daring rogue.

“You better be there, princess. I don’t know what I’ll do if you’re not,” Miguel whispered under his breath, knowing you’d surely hear a mouthful from him when he found you.

Slinging a leg over the saddle and snapping the reins, Miguel’s black stallion raced through Valoria’s gates, into the city, and beyond to hopefully find you.

In the heart of a secluded forest, the clear swish of steel and the occasional sigh of exertion could be heard, accompanying the natural melody of chirping birds and rustling leaves. In the clearing, bathed in dappled sunlight, stood you, the princess, defying all laws of royalty, titles, and societal expectations. However, this wasn’t an uncommon occurrence.

You detested the lavish life of being a princess, from dancing with suitors to kissing babes and even the simple act of donning a corset. The entire castle knew of your disdain, especially your father, the King.

Your father despised your rebelliousness, always desiring you to be what the Princess of Valoria was meant to be: kind, respectful, well-mannered, ladylike, an inspiration and hope for the people, and most importantly, perfect.

Perfection wasn’t exactly an expected trait of being the Princess of Valoria, but you figured it should be, as one slouched back, faltered smile, or ignored suitor would instantly bring scandal upon you from the court. And you were certain any scandal would ruin your father, turning him into a madman. You always believed that in his deranged state, he might do something he’d never believed himself capable of doing to you, his beloved daughter: enforcing abdication upon you—leading you to give up your royal birthright and heir to his throne to become a mere commoner in Valoria.

The idea always made you shiver in terror; but you also deemed it quite vast, hoping your father’s love for you would overcome his need to erase the soot upon his once shiny reputation if a scandal did arise.

But one would believe the fear of abdication would deter you from sword fighting— from running away from your duties to chase a dream that was truly of imagination and fairytales.

But, honestly, you could not…

Cutting arcs of silver through the air, the wind brushing through your hair, and the exhilaration you felt with each precise stroke of your sword was everything to you. Although you had been training with your sword for only two years, the weapon felt like an extension of you—taking it away would leave you hollow, dull, and lifeless.

You were sure of it…

At the age of seven and ten, you encountered sword fighting for the first time when venturing down to the training yard of the castle, your adventurous spirit leading you all the while. At the time, you were merely escaping your handmaiden, Lady Mary Jane, who was seeking to fetch you to begin your early piano lessons; so seeking refuge behind the nearby wall of the training yard would be the least likely place you’d be found.

Peeking around to check if the coast was clear, you saw a duel—a battle between Sir Miguel O’Hara, your Kingsguard, and four soldiers. What seemed initially like a serious sparring match between four exceptional guards quickly turned into a farcical display.

Your Kingsguard, a man known for his raging temper, ability to strike fear into any being—man or beast—with just a glance, and always holding a deadly red glint in his amber orbs when his longsword was in his grip, easily evaded, parried, and played the three guards like fools.

Like playthings, the three men were handled just as quickly as the battle began, ending with them in beaten heaps on the ground all without Sir Miguel moving an inch out of his initial position.

From that day onward, your protector awakened something inside of you, but you were unable to figure out what; so every day, at the hour of the bird, you watched your Kingsguard train with the guards. And after training, which was your favorite, was the dueling with Sir Miguel O’Hara.

During these matches, you became engrossed in your Kingsguard’s strategies and fighting techniques. And sllowly, you fell more in love with sword fighting and the idea of defending oneself.

But there was one memory of observing your guardian fight that was held closer to your heart than others.

Mostly because that time was different…

Sir Miguel was always known for challenging himself, pushing his very limits to ensure his capability of protecting you. You had never seen him sleep and if he did, it was only a little, as he was always glued to your side like a hornet’s nest to a branch.

At times, you found the older Kingsguard’s presence overbearing, until that night when you discovered him in secret.

It was long past since the final birds tweeted their final messages for the night and the stars rose in the darkened sky when you heard Sir Miguel leave his rooted post outside your bedchambers. You knew your Kingsguard slept at some time of the night, but he never just…left.

Not this soon.

It felt…odd.

Being awake due to restlessness, you decided to discover the mystery of where your Kingsguard had wandered off to. Slipping out of your bed, you adorned your royal slippers, slung a thin cardigan over your nightgown, and followed him.

It wasn’t surprising that you found him in the training yard, sword in hand and cutting invisible intricate patterns into the air; but it was how he looked that shocked you.

Taking your usual hiding spot behind the wall when spying on the guards’ training, your innocent eyes took in your shirtless Kingsguard in the yard, practicing in his mere trousers under the moonlight.

His massive muscular arms wielded his massive longsword with ease, and his pecs adorned with a pair of dark nipples seemed to tighten with his every swift and powerful jab. The large male moved in a manner similar to a dance, however, different from when he sparred with the other guards.

Despite taking in the sparring methods of your protector like you normally did, you found yourself noticing everything else. His flexing olive abs of eight, sharp jawline of stubble, concentrated gaze, deep and occasional grunts of exertion, parted lips, and the happy trail of coarse hair that descended from his perfect navel to slip under his trousers like a cunning serpent.

A shaky breath you didn’t know you were holding while admiring your Kingsguard escaped you. Your face flushed a deep red at the mere thought of how long Sir Miguel had been hiding such a sculpted form underneath his layers of armor.

You couldn’t help yourself, continuing your spying, but this time, peeking your head out further than before, needing to see more.

Your Kingsguard swung his sword again, his footsteps light yet purposeful upon the gravel. His every movement calculated in taking down his invisible opponent. Following his counter, he swiftly dodged, his dark brown hair flapping in the wind.

Every gulp caused his defined adam's apple to bob, and your Kingsguard’s slender waist twisted to evade with practiced ease. The sheen of sweat coating his muscular chest and backside shimmered under the moonlight, causing you to begin to find your Kingsguard rather attractive…

This memorable moment was a complete shock to you as you had never seen a man so…exposed before. Your father was certain to remove any paintings and stories that expressed erotic or sensual displays of any sort with the intention of keeping his royal daughter pure for any eligible suitors. So seeing him like this was as if you were taking a bite of a forbidden fruit that opened your eyes to the wonders of man and…

Sensations…

Seeing Sir Miguel in such a state, practically unclothed before you made you feel things—feelings that you hadn’t noticed but felt familiar in a way.

Perhaps, being the same sensation that engulfed your being when seeing Sir Miguel spar for the first time—his ability to fight, defend, and protect in such a powerful and courageous manner being what led you back here, each and every time to see him train again and again.

Perhaps these feelings were love like in fairytales?

Did you hold affections for Sir Miguel?

The idea felt absurd, especially with him being a member of the royal guard—meant to protect and serve Valoria until the end of his days. Indeed, love between a Kingsguard and a princess would be a grand scandal, so why did your heart palpitate at the possibility?

Why did your body heat up at the thought of the older man kissing your knuckles, not in respect for your title, but in adoration for you?

Why did your stomach stir with butterflies at the desire to know what your Kingsguard’s torso would feel like under your fingertips? His bulging arms? His chiseled face? Perhaps…

Lower?

But, it didn’t matter what you felt—what heinous and disgraceful ideas plagued your mind just from that one memorable moment.

It was forbidden.

You, the Princess of Valoria, could not fall in love with your Kingsguard.

Right…?

Since seeing him in such a manner for the first time, your respect for your Kingsguard grew. From that day forward, you greatly admired your protector and most importantly, the thrill of fighting; so instead of simply watching Valoria’s knights spar from your hiding place, you began to take notes. Engrossing yourself in the techniques of wielding a sword, and weaknesses and strengths in opponents, and how to outwit them.

After nine moons of observation, you waited until the castle was asleep and the last bell for midnight to chime before donning your commoner’s attire, to blend in with the people of Valoria, to sneak off to the local blacksmith.

You desired to purchase the creation of your sword, believing it was time to put your knowledge of sword fighting into action. After some bribing, you paid for the requested price from the blacksmith and handed in an additional gold coin pouch for speedy labor and your desired stylization list of your masterpiece of defense.

Due to this being your first sword, you wished it to be the grandest, so you wanted it to be perfect. You had thought of the blade for moons, considering how the steel would be decorated, the comfortable hilt, and how light yet balanced the sword would feel in your palm.

You wanted it to be the finest and precisely how you’d envisioned it.

The next day, you waited in anticipation, and when night fell, you traversed to the blacksmith in town once more. There, you were able to hold your sacred weapon in the palm of your hands and see it styled just as you had requested.

To ensure a firm grip, the hilt was skillfully wrapped in dark leather, with a crossguard intricately designed with floral motifs and blue gemstones that caught the light with every movement. At the end of the hilt, the pommel was shaped like a blooming rose, crafted from polished silver that was as beautiful as you had imagined.

Reaching approximately thirty inches, the blade itself was made from high-quality Damascus steel, renowned for its durability and distinctive wavy patterns along the length. The edge was razor-sharp and honed to perfection, capable of slicing through even the toughest material with ease.

Yet, your eyes lingered upon the engraving elegantly inscribed along the fuller of the blade, near the hilt. The words, written in an ancient language of Latin, resonated deeply with you: ‘Fortis et Liber,’ or ‘Strong and Free.’ This flowing script was a mantra personal to you, symbolizing your inner strength and desire for freedom from your constricting royal life.

Indeed, the blade was a masterpiece…

In that moment, holding the sword, you felt a surge of empowerment. The weapon was not merely an instrument of defense but a manifestation of your will and determination. Each detail, from the rose-shaped pommel to the shimmering Damascus patterns, spoke of the silent promise you had made to yourself: to fight for your freedom and protect yourself and those you held dear.

Just like Sir Miguel does…

From there, with sword in hand, you traversed to the forest on horseback—your desired destination just on the outskirts of Valoria that you used to run off to in your younger years before watching the guards spar. There, in the hidden clearing of your sanctuary, you began your training in secret.

Like all things, initially, you weren’t good at it, but after endless training and some assistance, you became what you are today…

Holding your sword lightly in your palm, you moved gracefully, each step and turn like a waltz that your father ensured you knew to perfection. Your blade’s soft swish through the air was like music to your ears, the whispers of steel guiding you further in your dance.

Whipping your blade through the air, your unladylike boots moved featherlight upon the grass. Your form of elegance and determination, along with your focus, never wavered, staying engrossed in your training until the rustling of bushes behind you disrupted the usual chatter of the forest and the crunch of leaves under your boot heels.

Despite the interruption, you continued practicing. A smirk adorned your lips, already knowing the identity of such a disturbance. Spinning in your morning gown, the blue hem twirling with your movement, and your unrestricted breasts underneath swaying with the motion, you turned to face the newcomer, your blade aimed at their throat.

“Here to lecture me again, Sir Miguel?” You asked with a grin, the playful tone in your voice contrasting greatly with your raised sword.

Miguel O’Hara, your Kingsguard, who had raced here on horseback as swiftly as possible, stood before you. Miguel knew where his princess' secret training ground was, as he was the only one with the knowledge of it. He always found your desire to sword fight like some commoner conflicting, but he knew where he stood when you decided to escape your royal duties to partake in the forbidden activity.

Your protector’s height and build always made him appear massive compared to you; perhaps he truly was. His metal armor only brought more width to his being as you peered up at your Kingsguard. Despite always holding a scowl, the evident glare upon his features was simply hard not to notice.

“Scolding, perhaps.” He agreed, his voice a low rumble, pushing the blade of your sword away from his neck with a shove of two fingers. “You’re not in the castle, I found your bedchambers empty, and you’ve done all this before the morning bells of the Kingdom have rung.” He stated sharply, his anger clinging to every word. “You’ve no idea the trouble you’ve caused by vanishing like this. I’ve had the entire city turned upside down in search of you.” He scowled in irritation down at the Princess of Valoria, whom he surely knew didn’t care how much he would rip the city apart for you, as your adventurousness would never cease.

“And I not only find you in this secluded glade once more, sword in hand, but clothed—” Miguel’s eyes drifted down your body, taking in your mere sleeping gown that you didn’t bother asking the servants to undress you out of and into proper clothing before escaping here. But what really caught the older male’s eyes was your lack of a corset.

It wasn’t the first time the Kingsguard had seen his princess without a corset. It was practically something one must become acquainted with inside of the castle. You detested the constricting undergarment, choosing to not wear it even outside of your chambers, which was greatly improper but not uncommon to the Kingsguard.

Yet, every time his amber orbs caught sight of those beautiful, perky tits practically begging for one’s attention through the fabric of your dress, the Latino felt somewhat similar to a starved beast.

Clearing his throat and shifting his narrowed eyes back onto your face, he continued the scolding that he had thought of on his travels here. “—But clothed less than appropriately,” he continued, making sure your eyes were on his, his face moving with your wandering one whenever you turned your head.

“This forest is no place for a princess, much less the future of Valoria, and you are hardly dressed as one should be for combat of any sort,” Miguel lectured, searching the princess' gaze for any sign of defiance, only to find bucketfuls of it.

His attention faltered down to your distracting breasts once more before quickly looking away, heaving a sigh of exhaustion. “Your Grace, I only implore you to think of your safety. What have I incessantly told you about that?” Miguel inquired, looking down at the princess, hoping to not hear any words of rebuttal, but simply a straightforward answer.

You rolled your eyes at his dramatics, lowering your sword to your side. “You’ve always told me that my safety is top priority, but you and I both know I despise being locked up in the castle, dancing and conversing with individuals that only wish to be in my place.” You retorted, sheathing your sword to your hip, the soft hiss satisfying to your ears.

“As you've stated time and time again, Your Grace,” Miguel muttered in irritation as you pressed on. “And I will not be forced to endure the torture of the corset. Women of Valoria do not wear one, why must I?”

“But you are not a mere woman of Valoria, princesa, you are Valoria!” the older man of eight-and-thirty- years shouted.

Miguel ran a hand through his dark brown curls, trying to control his temper at the sight of furrowed brows and slight jump at his sudden outburst. He had frightened many people countless times because of his temper, but never did he desire to scare his charge, you, his beloved princess.

After taking a deep breath and recollecting himself, the Latino spoke once more. “The corset is a symbol of your station, a reminder that you are Valoria’s future. It’s not for your enjoyment—nor discomfort, but it is necessary for the protection of your person, and indeed… your honor.” Miguel stated, unable to stop himself from glancing down at your free bosom. The breeze of the clearing seemed to make your nipples more prominent—noticeable, seen.

An annoyed snarl escaped the Kingsguard, mostly in anger with himself for his insistent and dishonorable staring. “Please, simply tell me what I can do to assist? What must be changed to make things better suited for you in Valoria, because this,” he growled, pointing at the blade on your side, “this cannot be your outlet, Princesa.” He insisted with a shake of his head, his wavy curls swaying with the motion.

You always found your protector’s voice to be deep and soothing to you, but currently it was only causing the burning feeling of frustration to bubble up inside. “Why must everything be so… constricting?!” You exclaimed in agitation.

“Why must I feel content in a garment meant to tightly squeeze me like a grape whilst damaging the very bosom it’s meant to conceal?” You asked, running your disheartened fingers through your wild hair, free from the usual royal styles of Valoria to take on a more free look—a look you adored.

You met eyes with the alluring amber orbs of your guardian, your gaze begging for acceptance. “Everything in Valoria only further distresses me—only this helps, Sir Miguel. Please, I implore you to understand that.” You tried to get him to see, a soft sigh escaping your lips. You hated arguing with your Kingsguard, as it always led to doubt.

You very much respected Sir Miguel, always finding him wise, and his dislike of your ‘hobby,’ as he called it, constantly made you believe it wasn’t right to choose it over your life in the palace, no matter how despicable it was to you.

Silence filled the space between the two of you, the chatter of animal life and the rush of the passing wind replacing the lack of words. However, to your surprise, this time it wasn’t you who broke the silence.

Miguel stepped up to you, his heavy boots crunching the soft grass underneath him as he closed the distance. His hand rested on the pommel of his sword, and his normally hardened face softened upon seeing your troubled expression.

“I’m glad to see you haven’t forgotten everything I’ve taught you, alteza.” He uttered, wishing to calm the situation. A rare smile graced Miguel's lips as he cupped your chin to lift it, wishing to meet your gaze.

When you reluctantly did, Miguel’s eyes roamed your soft features, his metal thumb giving your chin and cheek a stroke. “You are strong, Y/N, no doubt about that, but you must be wise as well.” He advised, his gruff tone a tender rumble throughout the clearing.

“Your safety and our kingdom’s security should be your utmost concern, not the… discomforts, no matter how hard they might be.” Miguel stated, his thumb lingering longer than it should upon your face, tracing the line of your jaw slowly as if trying to imprint it to memory. “You are Valoria's future, after all, princesa. I implore you to behave as such.”

You thickly gulped, his words and touch striking your heart sharply. When his hand left your cheek, the coldness of his gauntlet seemed to leave a cold handprint upon your skin, ensuring your remembrance.

Despite how crucial Miguel’s advice was, it just didn’t settle correctly in your mind, in your skin, nor your bones.

Valoria’s future.

This title was the cause of your escapes—the reason you sought refuge outside of the castle. That title was too much to bear—too much for one to hold, especially a princess like you.

Slowly, you shook your head, watching the handsome features of your Kingsguard fall. “I did not request nor ask for such a title, Sir Miguel.” You admitted. “I do not wish to live the boring life that has been planned out for me. I desire fun, freedom, and happiness—something that isn’t of attending balls nor forcing a smile at every suitor my father brings me!” You exclaimed in exasperation, heaving a sigh and turning away from him.

“I am Valoria’s future. I am Princess of Valoria, yet, I am never, simply Y/N.” You whispered, feeling like it had been forever since you had uttered your own name. “My father, the people of Valoria, and even you want perfection, someone to hope for, but that is something that I cannot give.” You confessed, grasping the hilt of your sword tightly for comfort.

“And I try, goodness, I try. I wear a smile, I try to go to gatherings, luncheons, gosh, I even try going on simple walks through Valoria just so the people may see me, and I…can’t handle the pressure.” You declared sadly. “The need to be perfect, to always smile, stand straight, speak properly—it's too much.” You said, shaking your head as your Kingsguard was so quiet, one would believe his presence behind you nonexistent.

“But this,” you said, tapping a thumb upon the rose pommel of your sword, “this doesn’t require me to be Valoria’s future. This doesn't require me to be Princess of Valoria—to be perfect. It just needs me…

Y/N…”

You acknowledged aloud, the thought making you smile. “And sword fighting isn’t structured; it can be wild and free, and that’s what I yearn for.” You concluded softly, running your finger along the ridges of the perfectly shaped flower of your sheathed sword, the action always calming you.

Miguel’s gaze roamed along your backside, your being showcasing a blend of sadness and delight that he’d never seen in any other being; but he couldn’t shake his annoyance with you.

He felt for you, his princess, he truly did. The Kingsguard always believed your duties were too much for you—too demanding on anyone who must hold such standards upon their shoulders.

But what you desired instead wasn't any better.

It was his duty to protect you, the Princess of Valoria, and what you wanted would only get you hurt…

Or worse.

With the clanks of his metal boots, Miguel approached you, placing his hands on your shoulders and turning you to face him once more. “You do not want sword fighting, Y/N, you want adventure—that’s what you truly seek.” The Latino told you sternly, his features returning to their usual stoicness.

“And adventure comes with a price, Your Grace. There are dangers in the world, and I won’t have you waltzing into them without a thought.” He said, his piercing eyes holding a silent plea behind them, hands caressing your shoulders under your ruffled sleeves.

“Your safety is the most precious thing I guard. I’ve seen men die from a well-placed dagger, women kidnapped into slavery, children left alone in this world without a mother nor father to protect them.” The Kingsguard stated, hands moving to brush a strand of your hair behind your ear, the idea of anything happening to you tugging greatly at his cold heart.

“The life of a commoner—the one you seek when you run off with your blade—is a harsh one, and one no being with their right wits would go seeking if they knew it well.” The older male told you in a sharp tone, wanting you to understand that his duty was to protect you, even if that meant protecting you from yourself.

Your lips trembled, your frustration and overbearing feeling of entrapment engulfing you like smoke filling a pair of lungs. “Then why teach me even a quarter of sword fighting if I am never to use the skill?” You demanded. “Tell me, Sir Miguel? Why broaden my knowledge on a skill you deem dangerous?”

Your protector’s jaw clenched, hating to see you in this way. Eyebrows knitted together, nostrils flared, fury found in your beautiful eyes. This wasn’t a look he liked upon his princess' features, always finding himself wishing to erase it as swiftly as possible.

“Your tutelage in combat is to ensure that if someone wanted to harm you, you’d have a fighting chance, not for you to run into battle with a head of iron.” He scolded, letting the gravity of his words settle. “And I would remind you, I’ve only taught you the basics, so while you’re skilled, you are not of high standard. Not like a normal guard. Not like a soldier.

Not like I.”

Your guardian emphasized, needing you to know the hard truth, hoping to ease the hurt of his words with a gentle squeeze of your shoulders. “And I advise you that it goes against my cloak to teach anything of the sword to a woman of royalty—especially, the princess,” He reminded. “If the King so happens to discover your fascination in the sword and further knows I had a hand in it, my head would be upon a spike by next sunrise,” The older male warned, his last words cutting you deep, your hand tightening upon the pommel of your sword.

“I…acknowledge the reasons and importance of my learning of the sword isn’t for entertainment, and that it is dangerous for both of us to be here, but I can't help but want more, Sir Miguel.” Youimplored, looking up to him with furrowed brows.

“You said so yourself, the adrenaline one feels from danger is exhilarating, did you not?” You asked, watching a flash of regret cross his features for a moment before disappearing as you continued. “I understand the danger of adventure, and like you, I wish to feel the same, even just a mere moment of it.” You tried to coax, the wind lapping up at your disarrayed strands of hair.

Your guardian’s lips twitched at your recollection of his own words, feeling like a fool for saying such a thing in front of you. “Adventure…does have its allure, my lady, but that thrill of danger pales in comparison to the terror of losing the one I swore to protect.” He said, pulling away from you with a final stroke to your shoulders.

You scoffed, shaking your head in defiance. “A small trip to a neighboring village to purchase mere trinkets is too much?”

“Sί, I cannot and will not risk putting you in harm’s way, my lady. You being in this meadow so far from the kingdom is already too much a risk.” Your protector replied sternly, his words bothering you further.

You couldn’t help feeling upset—upset that your skills felt like a waste. Upset that you’d never be able to use them truly, and even further upset that the man you secretly adored was the one to tell you these things.

As you stood there in silence, his scolding of the day resting heavy upon your chest like a boulder. The highlights of the lecturing on danger, scandal, trouble, entrapment, duties, and being Valoria’s future came rushing in like a tidal wave. And once more, you clung to sword fighting as your escape. Hand gripping the handle of your sword, you allowed your mind to wander.

All the memories of your secret retreats here, your discreet practices with your blade filled your head.

You knew you were an exceptional fighter, believed so anyway. You just had to get your Kingsguard to see that too.

‘One small adventure, that’s all I wish. If he witnesses my skills in person, perhaps he’d feel more comfortable joining me in just a small task.’ You pondered, meeting his gaze that was already staring back at you. Giving the rose pommel of your sheathed sword a final squeeze for good luck, you expressed your proposal.

“I do wish to express that despite your teachings of the basics, sword fighting is extensive, Sir Miguel.” You explained with a small smile, eyes tracking every feature upon the older male’s face. “One can learn uniquely and expand upon the skill on their own, and with the many times I ran off to practice…

I have no doubt that I can take you, Sir Miguel.”

A/N: I know, I know, cliffhangers are the worst, but I promise it's worth it! I hope you all enjoyed the first part of Fortis Et Liber, like mentioned previously, it was quite fun to write and I adore the two characters so very much!

If you also found this part just as delightful as l did reading and writing it, comment down below some of your favorite parts or what you liked most about it! I adore reading all of your wonderful comments!

Make sure to like, comment, reblog, and follow! If you'd like to add a request to the kink series, Entangled Desire, or have an idea in general, just message or submit an ask! Don't be nervous, your idea could be really good!

I hope you all have a wonderful day and stay safe!!

<3 Taglist:

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imkittyjustkitty · 1 year

Text

① all that's dead and gone and passed

🔱 — i'd meet the sea ༄ ⠀finnick odair x tribute!reader series ⚔️ 🔖) CHAPTER ONE [two] [three] [four] [five] [six] [seven] [eight]

chapter summary; Your backstory. Growing up in District 10, training for the games, being reaped... And coming home. warnings; unhealthy family dynamics/childhood, knives/weapons, blood & mild wounds, mentions of animal death & reader killing them, missing persons, mentions of reader killing several people, like one swear word A/N; this chapter is just to establish reader's backstory and set up the timing for everything. it's pretty heavy but i don't describe anything too graphically so even if you're a bit squeamish this should be fine!!

The Hunger Games are an entertainment show in all the ways that matter, if anyone plans on surviving them that's how they need to view it. Yes, they serve the purpose they're stated to — they keep the districts at bay, they keep the people's ambitions down and their behaviour in-line — but that's only for the districts.

For the Capitol? When it comes down to it, It's the entertainment event of the year - and a tribute intent on survival needs to treat it like one.

Growing up your mother would teach you how to wield knives and other weapons on the weekends. The memory of losing her brother to the games when she was only 14 and he was only 13 stayed fresh in her mind every time when you were growing up that you'd watch the reaping each year with her, lectures reaching your ears about how one day that would be you, one day you'll be sent off and she'll be damned if you don't make it back.

She'd grip tightly onto your hand every time, almost drawing blood as her nails duck into your soft skin and her hold on you strong.

She would whisper to you in those moments everything about combat she had taught you, mere minutes before each year's reaping she was no longer your mother but rather someone who had known loss and refused to meet it's merciless face yet again. You were not a warrior, you were a soldier who would hang intently onto her every word and order as you would stand with your mother, understanding that in only a few years you would be stood with the other kids your age, waiting to see if you would finally be thrown into the war your mother had been preparing you for.

She treated it like an unavoidable reality, you had been anticipating being reaped your whole life.

Your father on the other hand, saw the games for what they were, entertainment. He'd heard tales passed down generations of family's, friends, brief acquaintances who whispered of the Covey — of the singing girl — how the people of the Capitol latched their claws into her innocent flesh and ate away at her like she was some sort of idol to be held in the limelight and shown off to the world.

Your father understood that what the Capitol wanted was a good show, keep the eyes of their people on the drama and the 'plot'-twists as they punished the descendants of rebels generations after the damage had already been long-since done.

After you'd come home from your mother's training sessions, slight smears of blood grazing along your fingertips and creeping across your warm cheeks, your father would pull you aside as you both would tend to the livestock. He would recall previous tributes, the Covery girl's story always on the tip of his tongue during the lessons, and other young girls who played the part of innocent daughters who were just so excited to be in the Capitol to experience it all - and thus grabbing for the hearts of the Capitol and holding them gently in their grasps. He spoke of the sisters and brothers who simply 'wanted to get back home to their family, please', and who would tear up during their interviews as they recalled all the loving details of their upbringings.

Your father would mention all the facades that tributes tried their desperate hands at, going into detail into every single one and encouraging you to mimic the attributes these children would put on to find any angle that would endear the audiences to themselves.

As you grew, your preparation for The Hunger Games became a second nature. Wake up, feed the cattle, train with your mother, have dinner, practise your act. You were okay with most of the weapons your mother would drop into your hands, you were cool and calculated and never once let it get to you - you hadn't been phased by the fact that this was training for a life-or-death battle since before you'd started middle school.

You and your father had agreed on an act you both had labelled 'The Capitol's Misplaced Jewel', he described it to you like a needle in a haystack. A young farm-raised child that embodied everything that the Capitol citizens would imagine a District 10 citizen to be like, thick accent, crooked smile, but a twinkle in their eyes, all the attributes of a kid who'd grown up in a place where they'd early-on had to learn how to snap a chicken's neck — but without those details, no-one would root for you if they thought you were anything but the digestible image they'd created in their uneducated little heads. You would play the part of a young child who yearned for the glitz and glamour of a world that felt just so tragically out of reach.

And then you turned 12.

Your first proper reaping felt like the end of worlds, you stood among your peers perfectly still. You waited, for your name to be called, to be sent off to the Capitol to do what you'd been taught to do, at twelve years old you closed your eyes for a moment and waited for the rapture, knowing deep down that this was your moment.

And then it all went back to normal, exactly one day went by where it was like you were a five year old just helping out on your family's farm again — and then it was back to the training and acting practice.

Your father was relieved — but even then at only twelve, you could see the confliction in your mother's eyes. She'd given you all of her time and energy to train you to survive something she was so sure you'd get reaped into as soon as you were of age... And yet?

This repeated the next year. It was like the world had ignored your call, forgetting what you were meant for and just dropping you on the side-lines without a care.

Your mother left the next year when you yet again failed to be reaped. She left in the night with almost sign of her departure, not even a note, just a brand new knife stabbed into your bedside table and an air of injustice sweeping through your home that was now only shared between you and your father.

Year after year you were denied your passage to the Capitol.

You stopped waiting for it, you stopped staying up late at night wishing for your name to be plucked out of the signature glass bowl. You moved on.

18 years old and still you lived in the same old farm-house with your same old life that seemed to never change with the tides.

You remember the day vividly - something you're not used to being able to do anymore — you remember the scratch of the over-all's you'd worn to every reaping since you were sixteen, the collared shirt you'd borrowed from your father sticking to your rough skin in the dry summer air as you slowly moved with the flow of other District 10 citizens to the town hall.

You hadn't been listening, well aware of the safety net you'd been granted that seemed to decide you would be free of the games forever.

And then several of your classmates were pushing you away, towards the makeshift stage in front of the town hall. Your eyelids were heavy and confused as the peacekeepers had grabbed you by both your arms and practically dragged you up to the podium.

A man was talking to you, his skin was pale and paper-thin, makeup caked on his slim body and an air of superiority that made you view him as a seventy year old who'd just taken his first dose of morphling and had yet to experience the actual effects — the paper-bag of a man looked like he felt he was above it all, and you bet he felt like such a charitable person for lifting you up to there with him.

The other tribute was fourteen years old and rather good at pretending they weren't scared shitless — you were pretty sure you'd never seen them before in your life.

Your goodbyes consisted of your father reminding you of your 'ditzy farm-raised persona' and how you should act as them. You didn't know how to feel about that at that point, the act you and your father had curated fit a small chubby-cheeked wide-eyed twelve year old, not the hardened closed-off eighteen year old you'd grown into.

One other person came to say goodbye, an old woman who you were pretty sure had been an enemy of your mother's after she had taken too long to find the right amount of hay one winter's day.

She simply reached out to you and held your hand, nodding to herself more than to you. The moment was silent, until you'd grown suffocated by her presence and pushed the frail woman away. She smelt like your mother, she probably thought like her too, probably only came to wish you luck because of some guilt she had felt in the past.

You didn't help her back up after she'd tripped over the carpet and hit the ground harshly, but you didn't kick her while she was down.

You found yourself wishing that your mother would join you for one last time, and perhaps even sneak a knife into your pocket for good measure.

She never did of course, she was long gone and you knew it.

Stepping out of the town hall towards the train that would be your ticket to the Capitol was easy for you, you felt a déjà vu that told you you were doing what you had meant to be doing in all those years prior.

Everything from there was crystal clear, from the chariots to your interview to every single moment spent in the arena. You remember every single kill, everything you said, every gasp you elicited from disgusted Capitol members during your three minute interview with Caesar Flickerman. You had dropped the idea of the farm-girl act, you were eighteen and looked even older — not a single person would believe you to be a bright-eyed bushy-tailed girl who just dreamed to indulge in the glitz and glamour of the Capitol.

No, you had the rough blistered hands of someone who could be gossiped to be a cold-blooded murderer back home and people would believe it, the sunken eyes that should belong on the face of a worn-out single mother who refuses to let go of her dwindling hope. You were a ghost of who you were meant to be, so you took a different angle in curating a Hunger Games Persona.

You told Caesar the detailed story of the first time you'd had to kill an animal, staring right into a camera lens or right into his bright eyes. You fabricated a story of countless friends you had lost due to your violent inclinations, of your yearning for blood. The Capitol hated you, they were your villain, the one everyone wanted gone.

But you were the one who refused to 'just die already!', who in turn took up a considerable amount of screen-time just for the shock-value of it all.

You'd struck up an alliance with your district partner — Aleks — they turned out to be somewhat capable with tracking setting traps. You immediately 'befriended' them, noticing the merit in having a sort of ally by your side would up your chances of survival.

You spent 2 days in the arena with them, they grew to trust you, you were almost like an older sibling figure to them. You didn't make that mistake, of forming an attachment to someone who was only one of the pieces in the puzzle that would get you to winning the games. Their back had been turned to you as they walked carefully in front of you, their assumption being that the two of you were searching for food. You drove a dagger right through their chest and could practically hear the cries of indignation flying from Capitol citizens' mouths.

Winning the 68th Annual Hunger Games, to you, was inevitable — it had to happen — it was what you were always meant to do.

You had heard wind at one point of some Capitol citizens protesting against your victor's tour, but when you stood in front of the crowd of all the colourful people, they cheered. You were their ugly duckling, someone who's name would be mentioned followed by a statement of 'I can fix them'. You'd even heard of the odd citizen who found you morbidly attractive in a sense, dedicated fan clubs flocking to your bloodied feet with giddy squeals.

You were spared the 'opportunity' of staying in the Capitol, no matter how crazed your 'fans' were, they were few and a bit of a guilty pleasure that Capitol citizens mostly hid, the larger population lightheaded with fear at the mere possibility of you walking their streets.

You returned home to find your father dead and your childhood home shattered, years of life lost to ruin.

And so, with your past all but burnt to the ground and your purpose fulfilled, you supposed the victor's village became a sort of tomb.

But it seems even the dead don't get to rest, not with the third annual quarter quell stalking right around the corner.

series taglist: @universal-s1ut @stitch-lele @starrgirl4444 let me know if you want to be added or removed!

#finnick odair x reader #finnick imagine #finnick x y/n #finnick x you #finnick odair #hunger games x reader #the hunger games x reader #the hunger games x you #the hunger games x y/n #finnick odair fanfic #finnick odair imagine #finnick odair x you #finnick odair angst #finnick odair fluff #hunger games finnick #hunger games fic #hunger games fanfiction #hunger games fandom #i'll be a leading lady if i get my shot — my writing

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catiuskaa · 1 year

Note

Bestie, am taking revenge :D (not really)

Dropping here to make your fist request too! Let's do the same idea and see what happens :3

Bang Chan flirty rivals/crushes to lovers + dancing

Let's see how it works :]

Bring it on babes >:]

Level up: fencing for dummies.

sum. soulmates don’t exist, but why are all these corny memories suddenly in your head, and why is your rival the main character?

wc. 3.7K

cw. soulmate AU (past life kinda deal but it's a mess) mentions of anxiety, swords, swearing, angst if you blink too fast, technical fencing lingo (explained).

[☆☆⚔️☆☆]

Like a punch in the gut, almots and you couldn’t hold back the need to curse.

Shit. That didn't feel good. What did this even mean?

You sighed, getting angry at yourself. Was it already? Would this be the time that, like your pent-up anxiety sometimes whispered, the day you would finally go down in history as the world’s biggest idiot?

Close, but not just yet. Let’s get back to when the disaster initiated.

You shook your head sideways, shoving unwanted thoughts about the person in front of you to someplace far away in your mind, wanting to fight without emotions taking the best of you. You put back on your fencing helmet.

Striking the straightest pose your back could handle, you faced your rival.

Christopher Bang. ‘Chan’ for his mates.

Fencing, top class. Majored in music, again, top class in most of the career’s subjects. At 23, he played more instruments than you could remember, and between his job (one that you hadn’t found out) and fencing, you’ve heard he still produces music on the side with some people.

Yeah. But you didn’t care much. Nope.

You disliked the man. Why? He was rich. Stick-stuck-up-in-his-ass level of rich. And he used it. Not like you could prove it, but you still believed that he, along with the other wealthy members of the old fencing club, were paying for victories to the referees in competitions.

No wonder they were all so nice to him.

You couldn’t complain about it, though. These people had basically sustained the entire club for years, and, surprise surprise, there was no way you could pay for the expenses the club required. The coach could think likewise, but when Chan was named, he would always pick his side and run away before you could even react.

To be honest, Chan wasn’t your favourite person.

You hated his cockiness, how he teased and invaded your personal space, wandering about and spitting whatever thought he could come up with. It was much easier to not pry on why he annoyed you, not wanting to know if he just bothered you because he could, meaning that making him stop would be thrice as tough.

Or worse, that he hated your guts. Unfair from your side, ok, but when you first met, you were stupidly hoping to acquire a solid friendship, someone you could count on to have your back, someone whose skills you admired. It felt like a scene straight out of a Hallmark movie. Banter and teasing lines were thrown, and you could’ve sworn he was flirting with you, but when you saw a pretty girl entering the locker rooms with him that day, your heart cracked a bit.

He made you remember that whatever could happen between you two, he could make it happen in a flash with anybody, anytime. He had all the money and skills anyone could wish for.

And he knew it.

“Scared I might pinch you, buttercup?” He said, his helmet resting on his head and striking more of a suggestive pose than a defensive stance.

“I’d suggest you watch out. I might just stick this sword up your refined ass, Mr Bang,” you snickered, not sounding as playful as he had, the nickname rolling off your tongue before you could rethink it.

Chuckling, he prepared his pose, sword ready for any attack or defence when he nodded to the referee, ready to start.

Seungmin signalled, and the combat started. Sounds of the material of the swords clicking reverberated in the old building, along with the others from the remaining fights other students were having.

You tried looking for weak spots, aiming here and there in hopes of finding something, when instead, he grinned, a Chesire-like smile on his features as the tip of his épée touched your ribs.

Fuck.

Before you could notice, you were already falling behind.

“13-12. Next round,” Seungmin stated, waiting for both of you to return to your positions.

You stood as calmly as you could in fourth position as he came to attack right after signalled, surprising enough for you to be too late.

Or so he thought, because for some reason, through the masks that protected your faces, he felt your stare burn right into him.

Moving turned to a less crucial problem because the criminal violence that was suddenly happening in his body made Chris extremely confused and awkwardly flustered. He could picture those so-called ‘butterflies’ people often talked about being destroyed by some flamethrowers.

That’s the intensity I’m talking about.

With him frozen, you stopped for a second, wondering if he could’ve stepped wrong or if something had happened. You wouldn’t play an unfair fight just for the sake of mere decency. You felt a deep sensation trailing up and down your body, which awakened you enough to counterattack.

“Match point,” the referee managed to add.

Seungmin was perplexed, to say less. He had been a referee on several duels between you two and separately and never had seen such a quick build-up of a mysterious tension that magically appeared out of the blue. It was no secret to you, one of his closest friends in the club, that he was 100% sure you’d end up befriending Chris, but this?

Damn, he was proud of his intuition. Something was happening, and he had first-row seats!

“Hey, you ok?” You murmured low enough for Seungmin to not notice, approaching Chan just for him to realize how close you were and blush right away.

“D-duh.” He mumbled. You frowned.

Seungmin gave Chan a look before starting the following round. You couldn’t miss how his attacks looked weaker, his defence opening in front of you like a walk-in closet, his overall control getting smaller and smaller.

“13-14.”

You were… actually? Scratch that. You couldn’t really word it, but an anxious feeling crept inside you.

You were winning. Against Mr Bang Chan.

Why wasn’t he saying anything? No teasing, no flirty comments? He couldn’t… no, he wouldn’t just let you win, right?

That would be an ugly ass move from his side.

But unbeknownst to you, his side dealt with plenty of other issues.

Sudden flashes of unlived memories with a certain someone popped into his head.

“Your hair is so soft…”

“Can I sit on your lap till you’re done…?”

“You’re so beautiful it's breathtaking.”

“What’s a place like this doing around a pretty boy like you?”

“Shh, you’re safe, my love. You’re strong, plus I’m with you, and I’ll never let anything happen to you.”

“I’m not a delicate flower, c’monnn…! Kiss me like you mean it.”

“Uh?” His eyes almost watered, equally astonished as scared, because what were those memories? How could they be there?

“Did something happen?” You whispered, baffled as to why he had lost all the cockiness in his manner and tone, sounding defenceless, like a small child.

“N-no? I think I just…”

Chris froze. What was he going to say? ‘Hey, I know you sorta hate my guts, but I suddenly feel like you’re the love of my life…?”

Because that sounded perfect. He almost snickered. What the fuck was going on?

“Guys,” Seungmin interrupted with a warning tone.

He hated to be that guy, but flirting in front of the building owner and the coach wouldn’t look too great on the club’s side.

You and Chan stepped out of the tense bubble that formed around you. Quickly, you took off your protective gear and smiled warmly at the two persons.

Chris’ chest tightened, his heart skipped a beat.

Since when did he find you… so…?

“Cute.” He whispered, before realizing his surroundings and quickly taking off his helmet too.

“Good morning,” Coach greeted kindly, to which you both smiled. “I’m guessing both of you have already met Mrs Delaney.”

“Of course, Mike.” She smiled, small wrinkles appearing in her eyes. “Glad to see you fencing.”

You felt a stone on your stomach when you quickly noticed how she stared at Chris, much different to when she looked at you. You hated that.

Chan smiled awkwardly. The last thing he needed right now was someone who looked at him like a sexy, filled-to-the-brim bank account. Fuck that.

“Is there any reason as to why you’re here?” Seungmin questioned, curious.

Mrs Delaney smiled. “ I was speaking to Mike about organizing a fencing competition as fundraising. It’s getting trickier to maintain this building, plus it could attract more members to the club. And you two are the star athletes, so what do you think?”

You blinked, surprised that she had acknowledged your presence and valued it as much as your opinion. It was evident she was there for the money, but let’s be realistic. You would do something similar in her situation.

“I’m up for it. That sounds fun.” You simply stated, not wanting to annoy the woman with anything else so she wouldn’t stare at your soul meanly again.

Chan gave you a look, then shrugged. “Why not. But I think that the more the merrier, so why not put up an add?”

Mrs Delaney’s eyes sparkled. “Such an inteligent young man. I’ll make one right away.”

Coach and her eventually left, but you felt a shiver run up and down you back when her last words before exiting were “See you next week, good luck!”

“Not to throw anyone under the bus, but I’m not the one explaining that to the rest of the club,” Seungmin flew away.

“Good luck then, Mr Bang!” You laughed teasingly as you left with your friend.

[☆ ☆⚔️☆☆]

“You’re bluffing.”

“I’m telling you, either he stubbed his toe with thin air or his muscles were cut with an invisible thread,” he slurped his noodles, concentrating on his explanation.

Kim Seungmin wouldn’t need to go to military service because he sure served in every scenario in his life.

“Guys like Chan don’t just freeze during a fight, girl. I’m surprised you’re not all ‘panties in a bunch’ about it.”

You deadpanned. “Ok, gross. One more of those, and I’ll puke my fried chicken.”

“But actually, why, though? Do you owe me money?” He grinned.

“You owe me. I’m winning that bet cause there’s no way in hell that Chan and I can get along. But, just look at him.”

Seungmin turned around shamelessly, staring at the dining table Chan’s friend group had picked. He was laughing at some joke you hadn’t caught, allowing you to notice his dimples. Cute.

Another intense shiver gave you chills.

"If that's supposed to be a hate stare, I'm going to start thinking my landlord is in love with me," Kim laughed cruelly.

"What? Shut up! Your landlord is such a bitch, don't even try." You threw bread crumbs at him, giggling. "Besides, me, in love with him?" You couldn't hold back looking at him again, in some way that felt different than before, and perhaps it would be the first time of many because you liked what you saw. The man's beautiful brown eyes focused on you, his brown hair naturally curly for a change, a bit shorter, enough so that exposed the white and sensitive skin of his neck, and although from the angle where you were standing, you couldn't see him fully, you felt amazed.

Shutting down. Rebooting.

"I mean, look at the way he slurps up his soup. What an asshole."

[☆ ☆⚔️☆☆]

The competition had arrived before you could notice. Several members had signed in, and the crowd felt bigger than on its opening day. You sighed, nervous. The semi-finals were today, so of course, several curious people would pop their heads to see what all the noise was for. For even more spice to your mood, your opponent wasn't 'Mr Bang' yet, but someone who was even more unbearable than him.

Lee Soomun.

He had no discernible personality, but if you had to say anything about him, the only thing that made him stand out from the rest of the rich gang is that the stick up his ass would probably be the thickest.

You tightened your fist around your épée, the fencing sword, and stared at it blankly.

"Hey, you are up next," A guy named Felix mentioned, his voice as deep as anyone could imagine. "Go there and make him shut his stupid ass mouth for once."

You high-fived him. "You bet."

Getting out of the locker room, a silhouette suddenly appeared in your way.

You sighed. "Do you mind?"

He smiled sheepishly, showing his stupidly cute dimples. "Mind? In my mind? You, all day, all night."

You weren't sure if that made sense or not. You frowned. "Well, I fucking mind." You almost walked past him when he grabbed your arm in a gentle yet decisive move.

"Don't get your eyes off his grip, Yun."

You were frozen. The fact that your surname had been mentioned by him, who you doubted even cared enough to remember... only his cold tone made you wake up again. You scoffed, shrugging him off in hopes to regain your lost focus.

"I know how to fence, dummy, but thanks for the pro tip."

He stared at your back as you walked away.

"Oh, fresh meat,” your opponent greeted.

Lee Soomun.

You may dislike Chan, but this guy was even worse.

"How many points should I let you have so you get your hopes up?" His snicker could've made you sick. "Seven? Nine? Oh, maybe you've never reached so many points in one fight..." He gave you a condescending look that was so infuriating. "Let's agree on six, then."

Fuck. Breathe in, breathe out.

The referee settled on his place, and you both stood en guarde.

The fight started. You weren’t holding back, you were trying your best right from the start.

But it just wasn’t working.

You were on your second minute-long break, and if the score didn’t change in three minutes…

“10-6”

Then you were going to lose. Game over.

The referee called you back to your spots. You felt pressure on your shoulders, the grip in your épée felt weak, and the mask felt heavy.

“Yun!”

Your body stiffened. You looked towards the source of the sound, confused to see Chris, who was entering his last round for the day.

What? Chan couldn’t just forget that screaming in a fencing fight was considered really rude.

But his raspy voice that said your surname so differently from others had made you aware and catious of your surroundings, his words repeating in your head.

What could he have noticed that was important enough for him to say it?

You shook your head sideways, in hopes of getting out of your anxious state and slowing down your heart rate. The referee called you up again, and you faced your opponent again.

“I told you. No more than six. So be good, yeah?” His tone made you feel repulsively small. You hated it.

You stood en guarde when suddenly you felt a stare piercing into you. It made your entire body shiver, and the rush was so intense you couldn’t even think about the fight anymore.

You felt heat hit you in your face, and the sudden intense emotions made you too dizzy to react before Soomun’s sword was right in front of you.

And just when you thought you had almost seen it touch your chest-

Wait, what?

It… didn’t.

You moved suddenly, facing the scoreboard.

Why did it score?

“But I wasn’t touched,” you whispered.

He laughed, a rather menacing sound coming from him.

And in that moment, something clicked. That’s what Chris was trying to tell you before.

He had a rigged épée.

You see, with electric épée fencing, which was the chosen one for the competition, scoring is done in the following manner: the tip of the épée has a push button on it with wiring that, when combined with the wiring on the body cord and box of the opponent, would form a circuit, which would then signal that a hit has occurred. But what Soomun had probably done was to rig his épée so that he could close the circuit himself. But how…?

"Don't get your eyes off his grip, Yun."

Of course.

He probably had some pressure-related device hidden in the grip of his épée whenever he would appear as though he got close enough to an opponent to register a hit then it would count as a hit.

He was cheating.

“12-6.”

And he was fucking winning.

Anger stroke you through your veins. You couldn’t deal with is. You weren’t going to lose against some cheater, you didn’t care who was going under the bus because of him because it wouldn’t be you.

That was your motto during the fight, but then, weird memories started appearing in your head.

“Mmm... your hands are warm."

"You're such a tease..."

"I'm not flirting... or am I?"

"I really can't get you out of my head."

"Kiss me."

"If you stick your tongue at me again, you might as well be prepared to use it."

"Who did this to you?"

The confusion hit you hard, an impulse making you shiver in a sudden motion.

"12-7."

You had scrunched your eyes in hopes of understanding what was going on in your head. You opened them in a sudden motion.

You had fucking scored? Holy shit. Holy shit!

You smiled, feeling the anxiety's pressure lighten on your shoulders, a piercing stare that could have burned holes in your mask, not even having any sort of effect over it.

"You had one instruction."

You couldn't see his expression because of the mask on his face, but solely his voice made you tremble.

No. It wasn't anxiety now.

That thing you were feeling as soon as the next round started was pure fear.

And it was seconded when not only was he one point away from winning but, when in a dirty move, he made you stumble in your stance, faking another touch.

"15-7."

You felt a sharp pain in your chest, the bitter taste of knowing you had lost because the contrary cheated felt worse than ever. The match had ended.

Game over.

You both had to step out of the competition place together. He took his mask off and smiled gently.

"Does it hurt?" He asked in a mocking tone.

Asshole. He had gotten closer on purpose, which made you stumble in the first place.

"Not as much as how it must hurt your mother to feel your disgusting presence." You murmured, a sentence filled with poison.

He frowned, angry again. "I'll fucking kill you. I'll fucking kill you. I'll fucking murder your face, fuck you."

But suddenly, he took a quick glance behind you to just tsk and smile a cruel, dirty-rotten smile. "Have fun!"

Fuck him. Fuck him.

You walked back to the most hidden corner of the locker room. Everyone was outside, probably celebrating with whoever they believed would be the champion of tomorrow's finals.

Then, the door opened quietly. A silhouette with broad shoulders approached your sulky corner in small steps and silently sat close to you. You hugged your knees close to your chest, tearing up silently, feeling somewhat mocked.

"Do you want me to leave?" He asked in the softest, most soothing tone you've heard in a while.

You turned to face him with red, watery eyes that made Chris' heart tighten in his chest.

Instead of doing what his heart was screaming, he had to ask again.

"Do you want me out?"

When there was no response, he sighed and stood, ready to let you cope however you wanted, respecting your decision.

But he hadn't walked even two steps to the door when he felt a hand on his forearm, your sobbing not silent anymore.

"You won't laugh, right?" You whispered in between your cries.

His presence had felt like a sun ray shining through a snowstorm. Just by standing close to you, his sweet tone of voice almost lulling you to sleep, he made everything suck less.

Fuck, since when were you both so screwed?

He held you close, in the warmest embrace you had felt in a long time, so much that it allowed you to break into pieces in his arms, knowing that just by his side, you would be able to reassemble.

"It's ok, you're safe now. I'm so proud of you." Chris didn't know what to say, his hand mechanically running calming strokes through your hair.

After you had calmed down, still in the same position, you mustered your courage to ask what had been on your mind for a while.

"Why did you tell me about his rigged sword? And why be here, with me crying in some old locker room?"

Chan sighed. "I know... we have never been close, but I still worry about you. Maybe I have that because I always have taken care of my sister, but I care about everyone that I love." He shrugged, and you blinked.

God, a fucking sister. Of course. You felt so stupid.

He continued. " I thought you would've done the same if it was me, and I would have wanted to know. No one deserves to be left alone, princess." He explained, the nickname rolling off his tongue before he could rethink it.

You snuggled closer to him in a silent motion. He smiled sheepishly as he kissed the top of your forehead.

He gently swiped away your tears.

"I suck."

"You certainly do not, princess. It's not bad to cry. It proves how strong you have been." He said, tracing soft shapes on the back of your hand until he raised it and kissed your palm. You left it there, cupping his cheek, poking his dimple when he smiled. You smiled too.

"Princess, I think...?"

You interrupted him and gave him a small peck on his lips. You laughed as he stared at you wide-eyed. You grabbed his hand and stood, but he just kept looking at you from below.

"Get up, silly."

He smiled, grateful that you had cheered up.

"Is this kidnapping?" He joked.

"No. Let me grab my stuff and get changed."

"I'm scared."

You giggled. "You should be. I'm taking us both on a date."

"Where?"

"At this time, I would just go to my roommate's dance studio... care to join?"

He smiled, kinda excited. "If you insist..."

[☆ ☆⚔️☆ ☆]

~Kats, who is currently procrastinating five different projects, all due this week.

@iszaranothere because your absolute genius prompt list came right through a block like idek but tysm it made me laugh a lot T-T<3

P.D I KNOW THERE IS NO DANCING BUT YK LETS COUNT THE SWORD FIGHT AS A CHOREO + HC THAT THEY DANCED IN THE DATE LIKE IK IK BUT IT WAS TOO LONG ALREADY I STILL HOPE YOU LIKE IT THO

#stray kids #stray kids scenarios #soft hours #bang chan #stray kids x reader #stray kids fluff #skz soft thoughts #answered #first ask #chris bang #skz bang chan

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ariellewm · 6 months

Text

Character Profile: Prince Edlin Silverleaf, The Moon Prince of Nem Naalore

!! Note: Please do not use my character for roleplaying or fanfiction. (with the exception for Ycey Narrates). He is still a developing character. If you wish to draw him out, please contact me for more information !!

"Those dazzling eyes of yours. Why, even under the moonlight, turly its like gazing into a galaxy of stars. Now, what's bothering my star?" - Prince Edlin from "Under the Moonlight" Part 1

Full Name: Prince Edlin Amadeus Silverleaf

Aliases/Other Titles: Moon Prince of Nem Naalore, The Silver Prince, The Clumsy Elf (from his beloved)

Gender: Male

Race: Elf

Age: 20

Height: 6'1 ft (185cm)

Eye Color: Amethyst

Hair Color: Snow, long length sometimes in loose braids

Skin Color: Soft Beige

🌛💫About/Backstory💫🌛

With the great war between humans and elves coming to an end, King Lafvan and Queen Saevanna decided it was time to bring a child into the new world. Edlin, however, was very weak when he was born. He was barely breathing and had very pale skin. If it were not for the mysterious maiden that Saevanna allowed to heal the child, Edlin would not be part of this world. No one, not even the Moon Queen herself, knew what ancient powers the maiden possessed. And so Edlin was raised just like any ordinary elven boy throughout the years.

Edlin, while still learning his place as Moon Prince of Nem Naalore, took a liking in swordsmanship. As a youngling, he learned from his uncle and learned everything that he knew. When his uncle wasn’t around, he had others teach him. His uncle would even send him swords, which sparked a new hobby in collecting swords, which Saevanna didn’t like the influence Lafvan’s brother was having on her only son. His sword play would be limited as he still had to learn prince etiquette and the lectures Saevanna scheduled. Edlin, however, would still sneak off during those lectures, riding upon his great albino elk, Cloud, into the forests.

The elf had shown great connections with humans, especially with the sun princess of Sol Estrela. He was first introduced to the human princess when both royal families wanted for them both to promote peace amongst humans and elves. Over time, this friendship blossomed, and they became close.

However, elves, at the age of twenty, begin to slowly age. This is why elves don’t normally bear many children due to this revelation that Edlin discovers from the sun princess. It would prevent their relationship from growing further. So, they would keep their relationship a secret from their families.

💜🌌Personality🌌💜

Edlin is a kind-hearted, charming elf. Many female elves have gawked over his friendly personality, most especially his good looks. Royal lines from around the continent (even beyond the shores) wanted to marry off their elven daughters to the resilient moon prince of Nem Naalore, but he had refused every contract with the other kingdoms.

He's been known on many occasions for helping Naalorians in the kingdom. He’s brave, going off against dangerous monsters that invade his home (most of the time he gets assistance from his friends or palace guards). His mother, Saevanna, gets worried every time he runs off to assist his people that he may not return. But he does come back, ruining his princely wardrobe every time.

The elf is clumsy, often falling off his great, large elk Cloud or being around the love of his life, the human princess of Sol Estrela. He trips, falls, and stumbles. He almost broke his back once when falling off the princess’ balcony one night after the Sunset Gala; however, he was just overreacting that one time when he did (it wasn’t that large of a fall).

🦌⚔️Abilities⚔️🦌

Swordsmanship – Skilled in sword fighting in combat. Edlin owns a large collection of handcrafted swords, from scimitars to long swords to short swords. He switches them out occasionally, to be sharpened and placed back upon the wall until switched out again. He prefers to have one sword in hand; however, his kind is known to duel with two swords instead of one.

Darkvision – Edlin can see through the darkly lit forests and caves. This has proven to be useful when returning to the Moon Palace or searching through the dark forest for lost creatures.

Heightened Senses – The elven prince has keener senses compared to humans. He is graceful on his feet (most of the time) in dueling and has excellent eyesight.

Riding – He rides not only horses but also great elks. Cloud was taken in as a calf after its mother abandoned it in the rain one night. Both bonded, and Edlin would ride upon him every sunrise and sunset for his “walks”. Edlin also likes to give Cloud treats after riding, such as sugar cubes (which he shouldn’t have, but Edlin gives it to him anyways, seeing as it has no effect on him) or special tree leaves he’s gathered in the forests.

Understanding of Creatures/Talking with Beasts – Although this doesn’t work on all animals, he can speak and comprehend all sorts of creatures, such as his elk Cloud. His mother found Edlin’s ability to be useful when having him get serpents and other reptiles out of her gardens, as she hates scaly reptiles.

⭐Concept Art⭐

Artwork by Shio

📖Stories✏️

🌙 Under the Moonlight Series 🌌

Part 1

Part 2

SFW Valentine's Day Special Headcanon

Summertime with the OC's

More Stories TBA

Inspired Spotify Playlist: TBA

Inspired YouTube Playlist: TBA

#elf oc #original charcter #oc #elf prince #my oc stuff #my ocs #under the moonlight #elf #sun moon and stars #moon #fantasy writer #writers life #writer

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systastic · 2 months

Note

May I rq a lvl3 Fontaine trio w/ Wrio as one member?

your request came in juuust as the patch came out nya~ great timing!! :3c -🍥

queued 4 later. playing update rn -🐝

name :: chlorinde, chlor, cory, lynn, quinn, avery, emery, rene, renee, mercy

age :: 25 to 27

pronouns :: she/her, zap/zaps

roles :: swordsperson, gunslinger, hunter-queller, jailer / warden, gatekeeper (forcibly move alters to wriothesley’s layer)

species :: human

gender identity :: cassgender

orientation :: sex-repulsed lesbian

source :: genshin impact

aesthetic :: rangercore, rococo, french girly (on her days off)

appearance description :: typically in formal wear, always carrying a weapon of some sort, analytical eyes that assess everything on first sight. scars lie under her clothes, as do rock-hard muscles from years of experience. serious purple eyes that never leave her target. if you find yourself in her sights, be wary. off the battlefield is fine… but when clamoring for a duel? that look spells certain death.

personality description :: bit stiff on a first meeting, cold and calculated when it comes to fighting, has a unique sense of justice that guides her every move. constantly weighing whether or not the kill is worth the risk. stickler for rules and despises those who try to weasel their way out of their punishment. fair and just, yes, but just as equally cold. loosens up significantly around her closer friends like navia and wriothesley, being comfortable enough to try new things and talk openly about her past. it’a weird how people think she had a hard life… that’s just how things were. learning to hold a sword at three and fighting bears at seven is a part of life.

likes :: hunting, riflery, fencing, learning new styles of fighting, hunting down criminals, batman (in the sense of him being a do-gooder) sparring with wriothesley, her role as champion duelist, honoring the fallen marechaussee hunters, tabletop roleplay games (specifically the role of the dungeon master, live action roleplay, maintaining her physical form, her visits to the fortress of meropide (all the criminals are too fearful of her to start anything)

dislikes :: criminals, villains, breaking the law, corrupt officers, malignant paranormal entities, those who tell her “you should be traumatized!” or that her childhood sounded awful, doing her second job in the daylight hours, false reports and made up rumors, going against her personal code, judgements stares, criticism on her methods or execution of her job (they can go kick rocks)

front triggers :: being in a fight, upholding rules or standards, combat (physical), live action role playing, tabletop games. being a dungeon master for a ttrpg

signoff :: ⚔️,🪻, 🪶, or 🤺

art source here!

name :: sigewinne, wynne, winnie, melo, aurora, aurelia, celeste, clementine

age :: 502

pronouns :: she/her, fae/fayr, bun/buns, mel/melu/melus/melusi/melusineself

roles :: healer, medic, soother, comforter, caretaker, catkid

species :: melusine (changed forms thanks to a magic potion gifted by her mentor)

gender identity :: demigirl, nonbinary, cutecoric, femstalic, bungender, fluffyrabbitgender, fluffycloudgender, kaeifluidcollector

orientation :: asexual and aroflux, focusing more on making friends than finding a lover

source :: genshin impact

aesthetic :: nursecore, kawaii, yume kawaii

appearance description :: soft blue hair, melusine feelers on her head, a curly Melusine tail, pink eyes with hearts in the center. often seen wearing her nurse uniform and toting around her medkit. sigewinne has a water-based body, so she jiggles and is cool to the touch. bun will often let close friends and family hold her hand or touch her head when they feel too hot or have a fever, as bun knows it helps to cool them down. mel dresses in anything mel finds “cute”, and is a bit more extravagant with mels clothing taste when mel is off work.

personality description :: sweet as a bug’s ear and twice as kind, sigewinne always has your best interests in mind. she wants to see everyone healthy and happy. bun views humans as cute creatures that need tender love and care, and bun is more than happy to provide that for them.

likes :: anything that can be classified as “cute”, humans in general (they are “cute” to her), helping others, healing others, making ‘nutritional food’, her medkit, being recognized as a doctor, new friends and old friends, fayr infirmary in the fortress of meropide, visiting fayr uncle neuvillette, seeing fayr sisters when on vacation from work, swimming, diving deep into fontaine’s waters, wriothesley & neuvillette, chlorinde

dislikes :: excessively hot days, infected wounds, children who won’t listen, those unwilling to get treatment, those who push their bodies too far, reminders of her mentor, failing to help her patients, witnessing the death of a patient, being unable to help someone, gunfire… and not much else, honestly. wynne is a melusine, who have a different concept of liking and disliking something, so melu doesn’t really ‘dislike’ things as much as she does ‘disagree’ with whatever it is.

front triggers :: seeing someone hurt, injury or pain (body or others), medical visits/trips, uncooperative children in a doctor’s office

signoff :: 🐰, 💉, ❤️‍🩹, or 🩺

art source here!

name :: wriothesley, wrio, west, darius, alistair, amadeus, dmitri, draven, griffin, hendrix

age :: 32

pronouns :: he/him + the ones Sigewinne gave him that he doesn’t use very much, cry/cryn (cryoself), fan/fang (fangself)

roles :: guard, buffer, jailer, warden, athlete, gatekeeper (force unruly alters to stay in his layer)

species :: human w/ distant beastkin ancestry

gender identity :: demimale. he doesn’t do super specific labels cus he doesn’t rly get it.

orientation :: aspec (unlabeled), focuses on platonic relationships over romantic ones as he values them more.

source :: genshin impact

aesthetic :: scrapper, steampunk, bastardcore

appearance description :: often wearing his signature coat. dresses up to an extent. his button up shirts always get rolled up above his elbows to show off his arms. battle scars (and very faint s/h scars) line his arms and body, but he isn’t ashamed of them. if anything, they make him feel stronger. he looks at them and knows he’s improved. black hair, grey eyes. usually wearing darker clothing with splashes of red. will let sigewinne cute-ify him during off hours. and yes, he will keep wearing whatever bun did to him without removing it until the end of the day. (mostly because he doesn’t care to, but also because he trusts winne with his appearance.)

personality description :: older brother figure. fiercely protective of others but knows when to lay off. has a spunky streak that he can only cool when boxing or sparring someone else (even if he doesn’t show up in the ring much anymore). tea lover who enjoys having time to chill and not worry about work. motivated to finish his work properly instead of slacking off or handing it to someone else. gets irritated easily by cowards, mainly because he knows they won’t stand up for themselves — and if they don’t, then who will?

likes :: a good brawl, fighting, boxing, the wwe and mma, beat em up games, hand to hand combat (all forms), respect, justice for abuse victims and jail for abusers, laying down the law, scaring (rude) people off, caffeinated tea (earl grey is his favorite), brief moments of peace and quiet, his favorite chair sitting in his study, reading novels, sigewinne, the occasional visit from chlorinde

dislikes :: cowards, abusive parental figures, not being informed of things, the death of people close to him, seeing sigewinne hurt/pushing herself too much, coffee, rebellious idiots, abusers, being called a dog, being asked/told to bark (he will not, thank you very much!)

front triggers :: seeing others pick fights, unruly behavior, rulebreakers, slackers, being held up for cash, being called a wolf/dog, presence of law enforcement

signoff :: 🐺, 👊, ❄️, or ⚖️

art source here!

#alter packs #baa blog #bah blog #build a alter #build a headmate #build an alter #headmate creation #headmate pack #kitty creations #build a system #🍥 post #🐝 post #level three #level 3 #banner creds: unknown

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sonofthesaiyans · 7 months

Text

To my girl, to one of the Scouts' finest warriors, Happy Birthday Lynne. 🎂

(NOTE: Her birthday has always been listed as February 17th, people. NOT December 17th as is still believed by some on Twitter and elsewhere. So can somebody be kind enough to tell these folks not to make this mistake in the future? It's right on the Wiki. Thank you.)

To most folks in the fandom, Lynne is probably just another face in the background, another random gal who got swept up in the action and was gone just as fast as she appeared in the relentless insanity that is Attack on Titan. But to me, she's one of the most underrated gals and to me, she's become somebody very close to my heart.

I have long been intrigued by Lynne from the moment she first appeared way back in Season 2. She may not have been with us for long, but she left a lasting impression on me.

A member of Squad Miche, under the command of Miche Zacharius and serving alongside our old gal Nanaba, Lynne definitely earned her place on the squad of humanity's second-strongest warrior, showing herself to be courageous and determined in combat, even when faced with overwhelming odds. She remains professional all throughout, and is a capable commander in her own right, doing her damnedest to give her comrades in the Scout Regiment a fighting chance to survive as Zeke and his army of Titans were closing in. She's an invaluable member of her team, with whom she successfully fought off the enemy for quite some time before Zeke dealt his next hand.

It's really no mystery how she found her place on Squad Miche. One good look at Lynne and you can tell, she's something special that too often has slid under the radar. In my opinion, she's truly one of the most beautiful ladies in the show, and she has a look about her that just screams of an absolute badass, a dependable warrior who you can always count on in the thick of battle, and the one you always want to have by your side.

Plus, it's been shown that she is very kind and caring. Always looking out for her fellow Scouts, particularly those younger and less experienced than herself when the situation appears hopeless. And when danger is near, she will not abandon you. Truly, Lynne is a gal with her heart in the right place.

It truly is a shame I think that Lynne did not get more time to show what she was really made of. As someone who appreciates the characters in the background, I have a particularly soft spot for Lynne, and as such I have tried to give her the attention and love she richly deserves. For me, she's virtually tied with Sasha as my favorite AOT character. And for me, I think that's really saying something.

I don't know what draws me to Lynne, but I wish she had gotten another chance, especially as she counts as one of the most elite Scouts in the Regiment. For the last year and a half I have worked to give her a character and a backstory that gives her a much fuller and more active role in AOT. And I hope to share this in the near future with anybody who might be curious enough to look.

In my mind, Lynne is the hero of another story not yet told. As quite possibly her most devoted fan, I only hope I can help to draw more attention to her, as AOT's diverse cast goes way beyond the trio of Eren, Armin and Mikasa, or even the other members of the 104th.

Plus, she introduced me to the many voices and characters of Felecia Angelle, a truly phenomenal actress who I also hope more people will take note of. You've all heard her in My Hero Academia and elsewhere, and what she gave us with Lynne was brief, but dearly appreciated. For me, Lynne s just as near and dear as Sasha, Petra, or Hange, and for that she deserves another lease on life.

Until then it only seems fitting to acknowledge the birthday of my favorite AOT side character. Happy Birthday Lynne, lots of love for you and I hope she will continue to find infinitely more throughout the fandom. ❤️ ⚔️ ❤️

Oh and just to spice things up, I think I'll share this as well:

Credit goes to KrazyKamikaze44 on DeviantArt for this old but awesome piece.

Hers is not the only birthday today as I'm sure some are well aware, so keep an eye open for another as the day goes on. 😉

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silverselfshippingchaos · 4 months

Text

every single day i think about this thing i wrote in which. uh. f.elix pins ash to one of the pillars in the cathedral and starts making out with her 👍🏽 and when she pulls away for breath, he just starts kissing and biting at her neck. and whenever she gasps softly??

"you better watch your tongue... the goddess is listening."

#ash rambles 💚#heart-to-heart combat ⚔️#WHAT WAS I ON WHEN I WROTE THAT #BECAUSE OH MY GOOODDDDDD #😳😳😳😳😳😳😳😳#that shit has me blushing and kicking my legs holy shit #AHSKAHDKAJ AND THE WAY SHE CAN FEEL HIS LITTLE SMIRK..#this is so unlike my usual gush posts #but like #MAN. I THINK ABOUT IT A LOT

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ashton-ryder · 6 days

Text

moodboard & aesthetic game send a symbol and/or the description of one if you can't see it for the receiver to make a moodboard / aesthetic

@byenycfm asked: ⚔️CROSSED SWORDS — a past experience of my muse's

His final mission as a marine was a story Ashton never told anyone. He was Captain with his division of marine raiders he knew for a decade, good people he trained with since the beginning as recruits. It was an outpost mission only supposed to last a few weeks or so. But everything went wrong, they got caught in combat, taken hostage and by the time they managed to escape and make contact, some of his team was dead and others on death’s doorstep, including Ash. When he woke, he learnt that everyone else didn't make it. He was the one to go to every single one of his comrade's family to break the news, heart break after heart break. It was the one moment that broke him, he has promised to never put his mother through that nightmare again despite following his father's footsteps and that was the closest he ever came to it, knowing ever well that it could have been him, and maybe it should have.

#poor bean #it was like a fever dream i was sure i had written this down but i couldn't find it akjsdhd so i rewrote it #keeping it properly this time ty for the ask huehue #i cant believe there's a timespan of like at least a decade between all his gifs and his shows in this one moodboard #aussies truly are immortal #;memes #;answered #;moodboards #;more about #;aesthetics #;graphics #;the past #bnymeme

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clumsydragon28 · 4 months

Note

Let's bring back fun ask culture one ask at a time! 😁 ❤️

The last popular ship you drew/wrote/thought about is fighting the last rare pair you drew/wrote/thought about! 😱

Who's winning?!💪

Sensing good vibes frienddddd! 🎇

Hello friend ❤️

So, I have not written anything that isn’t Shikajin or a rare pair in a very long time so…gonna do this a bit differently hehe

Instead of two couples fighting, let’s talk about what would happen is Shikadai and Inojin fought eachother 🤭

To answer that, I will include a little snip from my pirate au 🏴‍☠️

So before Shikadai could utter a single word after crawling his way up onto the ship, Inojin sprinted across the deck, sword drawn, and clashed weapons with his secret lover.

After all, who doesn’t love a little foreplay?

He felt Shikadai push back with his steel fan, an annoyed expression gracing his otherwise beautiful features.

“Inojin! This was not part of the plan.”

Inojin gave away no hint of remorse as he shrugged his shoulders in response.

“Your plan was good, but I couldn’t help noticing a few flaws. So, I felt the need to improvise.”

Inojin jumped back to slash his sword at the other. The ringing of metal hitting metal echoed throughout the air. He heard Chocho in the background command her crew to hold their stations, confident in her first mate’s abilities just as Inojin knew she would be. He then lunged back in to cross arms with Shikadai once more.

“After all, we’re enemies, remember? Don’t you think it’s about time we acted like so?”

At that, Shikadai leaned in more, his breath hot and sticky against Inojin’s face. Being this close in combat, he could make out more clearly the grease paint surrounding those emerald green eyes. He loved how the makeup accentuated their shape. Whereas Inojin’s were large and round, Shikadai’s were more oval and almond shaped. Inojin imagined that if the sirens he’d heard tales of were truly to exist, their beauty could not be half as much as the man standing before him.

Inojin had to consciously bring his thoughts back to the fight lest his body betray his true motives. Unfortunately for him however, Shikadai was much more astute than his crewmates and had noticed the change in Inojin’s demeanor.

The smirk he shot sent a ripple down Inojin’s spine.

“You want to give them a show, huh? Well then. Let’s give ‘em a show.”

To find out who wins the fight, you can read the whole fic here ⚔️

#thanks for the ask spell 🥰#shikajin #shikadai x inojin #shikadai #inojin #fanfiction #ask game

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theaerialknight · 2 months

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a fairly detailed kirby ask meme

🪐 (Saturn) - What planet are they from? Is it in Gamble Galaxy, Another Dimension, the Mirror World, the New World, or somewhere else? Where do they live now?

⚔️ (Crossed Swords) - What weapon(s) do they wield or specialize in, if any in particular? Any special properties? Do their weapons have names or epithets? [e.g. MK’s Galaxia, Morpho’s Doomblade]

🪄 (Magic Wand) - Are they capable of wielding magic? Is it a learned skill, or is it innate? What sorts of spells can they cast? Do they possess any magical items or artifacts? [e.g. the Dimensional Mantle]

💫 (Shooting Star) - If they were to wish on a clockwork star, like Galactic Nova or Star Dream, what would they wish for?

🪽 (Wing) - Can they fly, hover, or levitate? Is it through natural means or artificial means? If they have wings, what do they look and feel like?

🥘 (Stew) - Do they have any favourite foods or comfort foods? What are their eating habits like? If absorbed by the Cook ability, what healing item would they summon?

☀️ (Sun) - What’s their morning routine like? Do they take a lot of time getting ready in the morning? How do they groom themselves? What are they having for breakfast?

🌙 (Moon) - Is your OC a particularly light or heavy sleeper? Somewhere in-between? Do they take naps?

🍅 (Tomato) - If Kirby absorbed them or their attacks, what Copy Ability [or Abilities] would he get? Alternatively, if they themselves are capable of using the Copy Ability, do they have a favourite?

⚡️ (Lightning Bolt) - Which Power Effects [Blizzard, Bluster, Sizzle, Splash, Zap] would their attacks grant? Do they have any particular weaknesses or resistances, elemental or otherwise?

💌 (Love Letter) - How easy are they to befriend? Are they more of a social butterfly or a lone wolf?

💥 (Collision) - What’s your OC’s combat style like? Do they adhere to any particular code of honour or ethics in a fight, or are they totally unfettered by that sort of thing?

⚙️ (Gear) - Do they have any knowledge of, or connections to, the Ancients? What do they think of them?

⚖️ (Scales) - On the subject of a certain someone’s lengthy rant; is your OC moreso on the side of magic or science? Somewhere in-between? Do they incorporate the two together in some way?

🪞 (Mirror) - What would their Mirror World counterpart be like? If they are a Mirror World counterpart, what traits of theirs are reflected? Do the two of them get along?

🐛 (Caterpillar) - What are your OC’s greatest fears, and why? How do they act or react when they’re afraid?

💼 (Bag) - Inventory check! What items does your OC typically carry around with them? What do they carry them in?

🔮 (Crystal Ball) - Out of all the treasures in the Great Cave Offensive, Kirby is letting your OC pick one from his stash to keep! Which one do they pick, and why?

♟️ (Pawn) - Does your OC get possessed easily, or do they have the willpower to fight back against any possible attempts? Have they been possessed before?

💜 (Purple Heart) - If they were corrupted by the Jamba Heart, which negative traits of theirs would be amplified?

🩷 (Pink Heart) - If they were a Dream Friend, what would their moveset be like? How much HP do they have? Would they be a strong attacker, or would they take on more of a support role?

🛡️ (Shield) - Which Clash role would your OC pick - Sword Hero, Hammer Lord, Beam Mage, or Doctor Healmore?

🦋 (Butterfly) - Does your OC ‘fear the reaper’, so to speak? If they fused with Morpho Knight, what sort of form would they take on?

🍒 (Cherry) - Out of all of the Dream Friends [Kirby included], which ones would they get along with the most? The least?

🥀 (Wilted Rose) - Do they have a Soul form? What would it look and act like? How much control over themselves do they have? Is it still possible to save them, or are they too far gone?

#kirby #kirby oc

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whump-ventures · 2 years

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OC Personality Asks

Made this a little while back, but lost the original post. Anyway! I decided to use my useless psychology degree and make an ask game.

🎤 Are they extroverted or introverted? If they’re more extroverted do they have a big friend group, a lot of people they can trust? If they’re more introverted is there someone they can open up to and feel comfortable around?

⏳ Do they tend to focus more on the past, the present, or the future? Do they dwell on the past and let it drag them down, try to live in the moment, or are they constantly planning for a future they want?

⚔️ Is your oc combatant? Arguing for the sake of arguing, standing up for themselves in a confrontational manner? Or do they try to get along with everyone, keep the peace?

🤔 Are they impulsive or more thoughtful? Do they think through each action, or do they leap before they look?

🧠Will they act on logic or emotions? Do they follow their head or their heart when it comes to making decisions?

🥀 Are they pessimistic, optimistic, or more of a realist? Do they have a rosy look at the world around them, seeing all the good, or do they see more of the bad?

🤩 Do they have a lot of self esteem? What about self worth?

🧗‍♀️ Are they a natural leader or more of a follower? Or are they more flexible, able to follow or lead depending on what the situation calls for? Do they enjoy this aspect of their personality, or do they think it would be easier to do the opposite?

😢 How do they deal with trauma? Do they need the comfort of a close friend or family member? Time alone? Do they prefer to talk about what happened, or keep it hidden away?

⚡️Is your oc more energetic or laid back? Do they tend to energize a group when they come by, or do they carry more of a calming presence?

✈️ Do they like to try new things? New experiences, new food, new places to visit, or do they prefer familiarity?

🦂 Are they hard to get along with? Do they have a stronger personality that can be seen as aggressive at times? Or is it easy to get along with them?

🗝What does your oc like most about their own personality? What do they dislike? What would they change about themselves if they could?

#oc ask game #oc ask meme #ask games #personality asks #character development

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charmixpower · 2 years

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I made a list of all the girls spells! This is part one with Bloom, Stella, and Flora!

I broke it up because these can get long XD, please enjoy

🧚‍♀️🧚‍♀️🧚‍♀️

Incursion magic (creates harm on contact, made of volitle magic), symbolized by: ⚔️

Solidified magic, aka protective magic, (can be touched without immediate physical harm, or more specifically not created by volitle magic that causes harm on contact) symbolized by: 🛡️

Imbuing magic (magic that cannot be touched) symbolized by: 💫

🦋Bloom;🦋

Domina Ignazia Calida Zapalac, or Bloom Ann Peters, Fairy of the Dragon's Flames, Guardian of Domino

(⚔️🛡️💫)

🔥 Low-level spells:🔥

Fire's Heat (⚔️) - The caster makes a stream of misty fire

Flaming Attack (⚔️) - A small spout of fire is produced from the caster's hands

Fire Cloud (⚔️) - Flames poof out in the shape of a cloud around the caster, it takes two hands to summon

Heat Wave (💫) - The caster creates a warming effect in their immediate area

Fireball (⚔️) - A small fireball is created and launched

Flaming Combat (⚔️🛡️) - The caster covers their hands and feet with fire

Flamethrower (⚔️) - A large spout of fire is created from the caster's hands

Fire Catcher (💫) - The caster summons all fire in a certain range to themself, absorbing it

Fire Arrow (⚔️) - A concentrated projectile made of fire is created by the caster and shot at a target

Flame Shield (🛡️) - A small shield, that's warm to the touch, is formed

Flame Circle (⚔️) - A circle of fire is created around a target

Smoking Flames (💫⚔️) - A small flame that emits thick blue smoke is created that quickly fills the area with the opaque gas

Barrier of Fire (🛡️) - A barrier of partially on fire magic is formed around a particular area

🧨 Mid-level spells:🧨

FireBlade (⚔️) - A small torch of flame magic is formed, hot enough to cut metal

Flaming Armor (⚔️🛡️) - The caster completely wraps themself in flames

Fire Wall (🛡️) - A wall shield of fire magic is summoned

Constricting Flames (⚔️💫) - Streams of fire are created, wrapping around a target

Dragon's Fury (💫) - The caster shares a bit of their power, allowing allies release magic at a much higher rate while increasing their magic reserves

Dragon's Energy (💫) - The caster shares a large amount of their power, invigorating their allies through touch

Draconian Control (💫🛡️) - The caster forms a connection between themself and all nearby dragons, influencing and controlling them

Dragon Wing (🛡️) - A fire magic barrier wraps around a target, carrying them to a safe landing

Dragon Heart (⚔️💫) - A condensed ball of fire is created that explodes on command or when coming into contact with a solid object

Fusion Fire (⚔️💫) - The caster makes two controllable fire beams that trap a target between them, before exploding

Incandescent Sphere (⚔️) - A small, powerful, intensely heated, and concentrated ball of flame is created and thrown at a target

🐉High Level spells:🐉

Dragon's Valor (💫) - The caster shares some of their power, increasing the recipient's confidence and magical power

Burning Scales (🛡️⚔️) - A personal barrier of hardened dragon scales is formed directly on the caster's skin

Plasma Cutter (⚔️) - A short blade of superheated fire magic that can cut through most anything is formed from the caster's dominant hand

Dancing Flames (⚔️💫) - Two twin beams of controllable fire are formed from each of the caster's hands, that begin circling each other in a vortex

Dragon's Refuge (🛡️) - A large barrier covered in scales is created around an area

Pursuing Dragon (⚔️💫) - A attack in the shape of a dragon is formed and will follow a target until it makes contact

Blazing Geyser (⚔️💫) - A circle of fire is created under a target before the fire rises in a jet

Firestorm Grenade (⚔️) - The caster makes a small volatile sphere of fire and then throws it at a target where it explodes into quickly spreading flames on contact with a solid object

Impenetrable Flame (🛡️) - The caster surrounds their entire body with flames so hot, it's impossible to touch them

Total Dragon Energy (⚔️) - The caster summons all their magic from their body, releasing all of it in one devastating dragon-shaped beam

Inferno (⚔️) - The caster slams their hand on the ground, causing an immediate giant explosion, draining most of the caster's magic

Dragon of Domino (⚔️💫) - A spell only a Guardian Fairy can use, the caster summons as much fire and dragon magic from the dimension as possible to themself, before sending it back in a pursuing giant dragon-shaped attack

☀️Stella;🌙

Stella Eos Hyperion, Fairy of the Sun and Moon, Guardian of Solaria and Noctilucae

(⚔️💫🛡️)

🌥️ Low-level spells:🌥️

Glimmering Brilliance (💫) - The caster glows

Light Rays (💫) - The caster makes a single or multiple, beams of light

Sphere of Light (💫) - The caster makes a small ball-shaped light source in their hand

The Warmth of the Sun (💫) - The caster causes a warming effect

The Chill of the Moon (💫) - The caster causes a cooling effect

Solar/Lunar Charge (💫) - The caster absorbs energy from the sun or moon

Sunbeam (⚔️) - A beam of solar magic is shot at a target

Moonbeam (⚔️) - A beam of Lunar magic is shot at a target

Crystal Light (⚔️) - A lance of light is created and thrown at a target

Solid Light Shield (🛡️) - A shield of hard light is formed

Sunburst (⚔️) - The caster makes a small explosion of, hot, sunlight magic

Crescent blade (⚔️🛡️) - A sharp boomerang made of lunar magic is formed, hitting multiple targets in an arc before disappearing without returning to the caster

Light Fluctuations (⚔️) - Solar and Lunar magic are shot in a vortex formation at a target

🌗 Mid-level spells:🌓

Solar Wind (⚔️) - The caster puts either a hand or focus on the ground, making a wave of light that fans outward in every direction

Explosion of Light (💫) - Light is let out suddenly, covering the area in bright light, making it hard to see

Blade of Light (⚔️) - A sharp, hardened blade of light is sent at a target

Shining Shield (🛡️💫) - A shield of bright sun magic is formed, making it hard for enemies to look at the caster

Moon Light Barrier (🛡️) - The caster creates a barrier of lunar magic, reflecting attacks

Sunrise Energy (💫) - The caster uses energy from the sun to revitalize allies

Lunar Serenity (💫) - The caster uses energy from the moon to clear and sharpen the mind of allies

Prismatic Ray (⚔️💫) - A beam of light that splits off into multiple twisting beams, is sent at a target

🌞High Level spells:🌚

Ethereal Light (💫) - Lunar magic is channeled, covering the entire area, dispelling all illusions

Dazzling Spiral (⚔️) - A burning vortex of superheated sun light is created and sent at a target

Cloud Breaker (💫) - The caster removes all clouds from the immediate area while emitting a glow

Summer Drought (⚔️) - The caster creates a cloud of hot solar light, that eventually sets thing on fire

Lunar Healing (💫) - The caster knits back together an injury

Ocean of Light (⚔️) - The caster expels all of their light energy in one large concentrated beam at a target

Prism Armor (🛡️💫) - The caster creates a reflector shield in the shape of armor

Supermoon (⚔️) - The caster puts their solar and lunar magic in perfect harmony, in perfect alignment, making a perfectly balanced attack

Light Speed Travel (💫) - A teleportation spell that created a small barrier tunnel where the caster, and companions, travel light speeds though

Total Light Spectrum (⚔️) - The user creates light of all types, sending it all out in one large attack

Light of Solaria/Noctilucae (⚔️💫) - A spell only a Guardian Fairy can use, light is summoned from either all suns or moons in the the galaxy, which is concentrated it into one attack

Universe of Light (⚔️💫) - Combining the power of both of their sources, the caster creates a much more powerful Guardian Fairy attack

🌹Flora;🌄

Flora Huerta-Clemente, Fairy of the Plants, Guardian of Linphea

(💫🛡️⚔️)

🌼 Low-level spells:🌼

Green Growth (💫) - Makes targeted plants grow at an exponential rate

Natural Whisper (💫) - A weak connection to plant life in the area is established, allowing the caster to hear quiet impressions from the plants in the area

Wrapping Branches (💫🛡️) - Makes a plant grow and grab a target

Golden Pollen (💫) - The caster blows pollen from their hand, covering the area, making it hard to see

Natural Camouflage (💫) - A barrier of leaves is formed around a target, changing colors to match their surroundings

Constricting Vines (🛡️) - Vines are created by the caster that wraps around anything nearby

Venus Gobbler (⚔️🛡️) - The caster summons venus flytrap-like plants to eat a target

Spring's Shield (🛡️) - A small flower-shaped shield is formed

Seed Coat (🛡️) - A barrier in the shape of a flower seed is formed

💐 Mid-level spells: 💐

Voice of the Forest (💫) - The caster can hear nature as a voice that responds to their questions

Chlorophyll Bolts (⚔️) - Bolts of green magic are quickly formed, and can be thrown out in a barrage at a target

Winter's End (💫) - The caster causes a small warming effect in the immediate area

Blanket of leaves (🛡️) - Many leaves are summoned in the form of a wall shield

Luxuriant Ivy (🛡️) - Vines are formed that immediately grow around whatever it was formed under, completely covering it

Petal Flurry (⚔️) - A vortex of sharp petals is created, and sent toward a target

Bearing Branches (🛡️) - Thick wood branches are grown around a target, forming a fortress of wood, holding an item up or together

🌳High Level spells:🌳

Nature's Symphony (💫) - The caster connects to nature, and as the magical wind howls past them, they briefly understand nature perfectly

Fall's Twister (⚔️) - A tornado of sharp fall leaves are formed, and sent at a target

Natural Counterattack (🛡️⚔️) - A rosebush shield is summoned, that sends thorns at anything that approaches

Cage of the Snapdragon (🛡️) - Giant snapdragons are formed, pulling up their natural rocky habitat with them, trapping a target between them

Life's Essence (💫) - The caster pulls life energy from all nearby nature, channeling it back into a target, healing them

Gaia's Defense (🛡️💫) - All nearby nature moves to protect a area

Untameable Nature (💫⚔️) - The caster agitates all nearby plant life, making it grow and become hostile to any targets, independently attacking by any means to its disposal

(💫) Life of Linphea - A spell only a Guardian Fairy can use, this spell can bring someone back from the brink of death or revive a forest, it sends a pulse of life energy outwards

#if you have any Spell ideas I'd love to hear them #rus has ideas #winx club #winx headcanons #winx bloom #winx stella #winx flora #winx club headcanons

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