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suncoved · 2 months ago

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BIG MAN ON CAMPUS! — RAFE CAMERON

pairing; fratboy!rafe cameron x fem!reader

summary; you come to your first college party and have the worst panic attack of your life. who knew your knight in shining armour would be the captain of the biggest fraternity and the biggest fuck boy on campus

warnings ; panic attacks, anxiety, drugging, angst but like fluff!!

"Liv, i'm really not sure about this"

You're best friend and roommate looked at you with a blank stare, watching as you pulled the tight white dress down that had ridden up your thighs. She had dragged you out of your dorm only 20 minutes ago, telling you that if you didn't come she was going to wake you up with a bucket of ice water.

"Cmon babe, you made me promise i would drag you to at least one party this year. and i don't break a promise. Which also means that i promise if you don't like the first 30 minutes, then we can go home and eat 30 pounds of ice cream and pass out in our makeup"

You smiled at her, trying to push yourself through whatever anxiety was coursing through you. Liv was really a good friend, even if she was harsh about it at times, you know that she wanted the best for you.

The smell of booze and sweat hit your nose immediately as you walked into the frat house, the music blasting and the rainbow lights blinding against the otherwise dark space.

Liv pulled you to the corner of the living room, smiling brightly at you and giving you an extra tight hug. "Ok! I'm gonna go get us some drinks, stay right there and don't move!"

She had to yell because of how loud the music was, wasting no time before disappearing into the kitchen.

You stood in the party like a fish out of water, biting your lip as you looked down at your feet.

You'd like to say that you weren't that much of an introvert. I mean sure you liked to be curled up with a good book from time to time, and you were studying a bit more than healthy. But you like to go out and shop with friends, talk to new people in your classes and slumber parties on the weekends.

But parties were something you did not do. It had a combination of all the things you disliked most in life. loud music, people yelling, drinking, flashing bright lights and... frat boys.

You'd already been brought out of your shell at college, you were confident enough now to present in classes and partner up with new people on assignments, but this was pushing it.

You were a sweet girl, but naive. You didn't have enough experience with greedy men and even you would admit that you resembled a lost deer more often than you would like.

You lifted your head as you heard someone approach you, looking up quickly as you assumed it was Liv coming back from the kitchen.

But it wasn't Liv.

A brunette looked straight at you as you made eye contact with him, a red solo cup resting in his hand.

"What's a pretty girl like you standing here all alone in the corner" he stated, inching closer to you as you subconsciously stepped back a bit. "I'm Jeremey"

He reached out his hand to you to shake, only to receive a dumbfounded look on your face.

"Normally people reply back with their name, Babe"

"Oh! Sorry!" you replied flustered, repeating back your name as he grinned wide, showing his bright smile.

You didn't want to admit that when Jeremy was talking to you, you continually kept glancing over at the entrance to the kitchen, hoping that the next person to walk out was Liv, who was going to hopefully come to save you from this conversation.

"Hey, I was experimenting in the kitchen, wanna try my new concoction." Jeremy dangled the red solo cup in your face, the liquid pink and smelling of strawberries.

"No thank you. I don't drink" you replied sweetly, hoping to be polite and not upset him. "There's barely any in it, promise. Pleaseee, don't wanna hurt my feelings, do you?" He replied in annoyance.

A pang of hurt shot through you as you panicked, how could you have been so rude! Jeremy was taking time out of his day to talk to you and you rejected a drink he made you?

"Oh! no, I'm sorry. Thank you so much" you replied, taking the cup out of his hands and looking down at the liquid. He watched closely as you took a sip, your face twisting at the strong flavour of vodka.

"What do you think?" he smirked as he asked, bringing his hand up to your lips and wiping the extra liquid off with his thumb.

"Its- its great, thank you" you replied, your heart beating faster as you started to feel increasingly more uncomfortable. He watched you closely as he hinted to you to drink more, looking down at you like he was a wolf, and you were his prey.

You held back tears as you felt the room start to spin under your feet, your cheeks feeling hot and your hands shaking involuntarily. It hit you quickly that this wasn't alcohol that was making you feel like this, no, it was something else. Something much, much worse.

And you didn't want to stick around to figure out what it was.

"Um, sorry Jeremy, I need to go to the bathroom" you spoke up, using all your courage to push through the crowd quickly as he followed.

Your breath was now speeding up as you fought your way through the waves of people, your steps becoming faster as you felt the room spinning more and more, tears streaming down your face.

You didn't know where the bathrooms in this place were, but you didn't have time to think about that now.

You just needed to find Liv, or someone, anyone.

Your eyes fell on a room at the end of the hall, light spilling out of the crack where the door failed to meet the floor.

You didn't have time to think, just to act. Your balled fist made it up to the door, knocking over and over again as you looked behind you, Jeremy in the crowd but looking all over for what you assumed to be you.

You didn't even want to begin to imagine how stupid you looked, or how impolite you were being as your knocks became harsher and frantic as Jeremy came closer.

"Jesus, learn how to wait your fucking turn" a voice sounded as the door opened. you didn't even look away from Jeremy as you tumbled into the bathroom, accidentally bringing the person in the door with you.

"Yo, what the fuc-" the aggressive voice came to a halt quickly, but you all you could focus on was your breathing, which was out of control.

Your cheeks were wet with tears as you closed your eyes, bringing your hands up to your face and letting yourself sob. "I- I can't breathe" You let out, unknowing if you were talking to yourself or the person in the space with you.

You couldn't even handle your anxiety and emotions when you were in control of your body, let alone now.

That's the main reason you don't drink, because you tend to freak out to the point of no return, and this, this was much worse.

Your face was buried in your hands as the person softly closed the door to the bathroom. You didn't even register him softly moving you to sit on the toilet seat in the bathroom, kneeling down and removing your hands from your face.

You opened your eyes to see a man's face looking back at you, his features painted with worry and his body distanced enough away from you as to not upset you even more.

"Hey- hey. Its ok, what's wrong?" the boy asked, trying not to show how confused he was on how to deal with this situation. "Are you hurt?"

You shook your head quickly at his statement, your tears slowly coming to a halt as your vision became less blurry. You could now see his face more clearly. Fluffy dirty blonde hair, bright blue eyes, soft pink lips.

"Uh, um. Wait" He spoke, breaking eye contact with you for the first time since you entered the bathroom. He started frantically opening draws and cabinets, stopping when he found a box of tissues under the sink.

"Here" you looked between him and the box he was handing you before taking it in your hands, your fingers brushing past each other momentarily.

"Thank you, i-i promise I'm not this much of a mess all the time." You replied, earning a soft smile from the man. "It's ok, it happens to the best of us. Have you taken anything, or just drunk?" He asked delicately.

Rafe didn't understand what he was feeling at this moment. Because he'd never felt it before.

Sure he could be an asshole sometimes, He was rude and got into fights on occasion, and he had been known to make girls complete the walk of shame out of his room involuntarily after a big night out, but that didn't mean he would ever leave a clearly intoxicated girl alone at a frat party.

But this, this was different. He had to know what was wrong with you, and he had to fix it. Sure you were a mystery to him and only met you seconds ago, but he wasn't leaving until he knew you were safe and sound... and had given him your name.

"I don't drink- or, at least I didn't. This boy gave me something, it tasted weird. Then I got all dizzy and now- now I can't stop crying" You rambled, sighing softly and looking into his eyes.

He gazed back at you, running his tongue around his teeth before seemingly snapping out of the trance he was in. "Did you know the guy?" He huffed, obviously agitated with your reply as he ran his fingers through his hair.

You shook your head softly, a wave of sadness running through you because you couldn't give him the answer he wanted. Tears started running down your face again suddenly as you kept repeating 'I'm sorry' over and over again.

He lifted his thumb up to your cheek, softly brushing the tears away. "Hey it's okay, Don't worry. I'll keep you safe"

He didn't understand the feelings he was feeling, He had never craved to protect someone so much, He had never been this gentle in his whole life.

"What's your name?" he asked, distracting you to hopefully stop the flow of tears streaming down your face. He felt like if you didn't stop crying in the next minute, he was going to lose it.

You answered your name to him, earning a soft smile. "I'm Rafe, it's nice to meet you." He finished the sentence with your name, sending shivers down your spine.

"Liv" You gasped, making his head tilt in confusion before you shot up from your seat. "Wow, ma. Slow down, what do you mean?" Rafe replied, holding your hips to stop you from completely falling over. You sat back down quickly in defeat, your eyes wide with panic.

"Liv, I-I came here with my friend Liv. I'm gonna scare her. I need to find her." You gasped, your voice trembling as you spoke. "It's ok, We'll find her. Don't worry, it's ok." He repeated, desperate for your face to get back to your normal expression, aka, not struck with terror.

It was obvious to Rafe through the glaze cast over your eyes, the shaking from your hands and the drooping of your eyelids that someone had slipped something into your drink.

He had hosted enough parties at his fraternity to know what insecure, probably small dicked boys, not men, can do to women. And it revolted him.

"R-rafe. I'm gonna go to sleep now" You whispered, your body finally giving out before you could stop it, his arms quickly coming up to stabilize you before you toppled over.

He bit his lip as he tried to figure out what to do, pulling your body into his arms as you didn't even stir. He was scared. So scared.

He didn't know what you were given, how much you were given, what would happen after you woke up, if you even woke up at all.

He carried you up the stairs and into his bedroom, unlocking the door and locking it behind him again. His room was the only one with a lock in the whole house, because he was damned if he was going to walk in on random strangers having drunk sex on his bed.

He rested you softly on his bed, making sure your head was comfortably on his pillow and resting a blanket over your body after taking your heels off.

He looked at your sleeping form, your long eyelashes resting on your cheeks, your hair falling softly over your shoulders and your chest rising and falling with your breaths.

He looked at you one last time before leaving his room, ignoring every person greeting him as he made a beeline straight for the living room.

He scanned over the large crowd in the house, numerous people dancing, some making out, his frat brothers doing keg stands, and one very panicked girl going up to every stranger she sees.

Rafe took no time before walking straight to the girl in the middle of the dance floor, tapping her on the shoulder. She turns immediately to face Rafe, her face struck with confusion.

"Are you Liv?" Rafe asks, earning a confused nod from the girl in front of him” I am! Have you seen my best friend anywhere? She's about yay height, really pretty, heart of gold, she kinda looks like that baby deer from that Disney movie, she's wearing this white dress and-"

Rafe stops her ramble with a quick nod causing her eyes to widen. "What? Where is she?"

"In my bed" Rafe replied, remembering he wasn't all that good with small talk. "What? What the fuck do you mean, in your bed? What did you do? I swear to god-"

"Ok, calm down. Someone gave her something. I found her in the bathroom sobbing before she passed out. I put her in my bed then came down here, end of story" He replied, starting to get slightly agitated.

The girl he now knows to be Liv quickly walks off, heading straight for upstairs where the bedrooms are. Rafe rolls his eyes before following swiftly behind her, though he's glad that there's someone out there other than him trying to protect his newfound soft spot.

Liv halts at all the bedrooms, looking expectantly at Rafe before he walks in front of her and opens his door. Liv immediately rushes to you, still passed out on Rafe's bed.

She sits next to you, tucking your hair behind your ear before placing a kiss on your forehead. "Of course, on the first party she goes to, some sick fuck roofies her and she ends up in Rafe Cameron's bed" Liv speaks, not taking her eyes off you.

"How do you know my name?" Rafe asks, not even bothering to look at the person he's talking to as he focuses on your chest rising and falling. "Ha, everyone knows who you are Rafe. And if I find out you had anything to do with her getting hurt, I'm gonna chop your dick off and feed it to you and make sure everyone on campus knows it"

It would be a lie to say Rafe wasn't slightly amused by your best friend's words, holding back his smile and keeping his face stern. "I would never do that shit. Especially not to her" Liv's eyebrow quirked in confusion at the last bit of his sentence.

She knows for a fact that you did not know Rafe Cameron before this night, let alone any frat boys. Liv could cry at the sight of your passed-out form, taking full blame and responsibility for the fact that you got hurt when she was meant to protect you.

She pulled her phone out from her purse, about to call an Uber back to the dorms for both of you. "No, I'll drive you" He stated, not leaving room for an argument

Liv nodded slowly before pulling the blanket off you, your body involuntarily starting to shiver from the cold air.

Rafe walked over to his closet, grabbing his warmest hoodie. Liv looked up at him as he raised your body softly, placing the hoodie over your head and softly lifting you up into his arms.

Rafe walked with Liv down to the road outside the fraternity house, receiving hundreds of stares from people in the crowd. But he didn't care, all he cared about was you.

He let Liv open the door to the backseat of his truck, allowing him to place you softly inside before Liv climbed in next to you, placing your head on her lap.

The ride was completely silent, barring Liv's directions to the dormitories, but she didn't miss the way he was constantly looking in the rearview mirror at you.

It didn't take long before Liv was leading the way to your dorm, Rafe trailing slowly behind with you in his arms.

She flicked the light on in your dorm, Rafe quickly knowing which bed was yours from the multiple stuffies and pink blankets. He lifted the covers before placing your head on the pillow once more, knowing Liv was going to get you changed before she slept.

"Thank you, Rafe, for looking out for her when I didn't" Liv said as Rafe walked to your door, nodding curtly in repose to her statement.

He gave you one last look before he walked out of your door, watching as Liv was about to shut the door on him after saying goodbye. Panicked he placed his foot in front of the door before it shut, forcing it open.

"C-can I get her number, please?"

#i feel like this has potential to be a series so lmk....#rafe cameron drabble #rafe cameron #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron x reader #outer banks #rafe outer banks #rafe cameron fluff #rafe x reader #frat!rafe #frat!au

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sunny-milla · 3 months ago

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togame jo with a soft and feminine s/o headcannons

Shishitoren’s second in command was brutal, he had a black and white vision of things. Mistakes were not tolerated by Togame, so much as softness easily defined as weakness. So, everyone in Shishitoren was shocked when a sweet thing like you came up to the lion’s den in a cute white dress with pink floral prints, Mary Jane shoes with white socks.

You trodded beside him like a bright light that lit the shadows. You looked like a lone daisy in a field of barren land. Togame had his arm around your waist every time you were in their lair, he made sure no one stared a little funky at you or had a glint of mischief towards you.

Now, one may ask, how did such a sweet girl like you meet him? Togame Jo was a man of his values and customs, sure he ruled with an iron fist by following his leader’s ideals but it does not mean that he’s lost his morals.

You were getting disturbed by a some local thugs who were forcing you to give their numbers and go out on a date with one of the guys who seemed to be the leader. Your wrist was firmly held by the leader every time you attempted to walk out of the situation. Then, your knight in shining armour came swooping in by slamming the guy’s face down to the ground.

After the altercation, you had thanked him profusely in which he simply brushed off. You had insisted on buying him something like a coffee or dinner perhaps but he said he didn’t need something back. So, you had given him some bandaids which you rushed to buy at the convenience store for him.

Ever since that day, you bumped into each other more and more. By the time he knew it, he had taken you out on a date in front of your house, a bouquet of tulips in hand and a rabbit plush on the other.

Togame Jo always found things like plushies or any soft toys silly, he thought they were childish and unnecessary especially when someone’s reaching adulthood.

However, when he noticed your penchant for such adorable things his feet can’t help but wander into Miniso or KENJI. He also can’t help but grab a few plushies here and there, matching ones of course. He can’t help but tap his card when he sees a cute dress on a mannequin that you gawked at the day before.

When Togame Jo first entered your bedroom, he was shocked by the sheer amount of pastel pink on your room. He had never seen that much pink in his entire life. He found it cute— no, he found you cute.

Togame Jo would find his head laying on top of your lap, a pink fluffy headband pushing his hair back, a sheet mask on his face to help moisturise his skin as you said.

Togame Jo enjoyed having you in his lap, not in a sexual way or anything, he liked the close proximity and the warmth shared between your skin. He loved fiddling with the ruffles of your skirt whilst he has you on his lap and draw circles on your back.

Togame Jo would find himself sat in front of your dressing table, foundation on his skin, pink eyeshadow on his eye lids, his cheeks strawberry, his supple lips in a reddish lip gloss. You’d be sat on his lap whilst he held your hips as you put your makeup on him.

Togame Jo would find himself going on cute café dates with you followed by a photo booth where you had put bear ears headband on his head while you had a rabbit one. He’d find himself in the printed photos with a gentle smile which he unknowingly made, his cheeks slightly painted pink.

Togame Jo whose s/o loves to be in short skirts and dresses would be more than ready to pummel anyone down when they made fun of your or made any inappropriate comments. He’s the type of boyfriend who says, “Wear what you want, I can fight.” And he does.

Togame Jo whose phone case is clear, a picture of you in the back-- clearly boasting about his cute girlfriend. Togame Jo's brown leather wallet had a picture of you and him in the amusement park, which he showed off to Sako and Choji.

Dating Togame Jo also meant that you and Choi were familiars, close buddies which he enjoyed but found it annoying when every single date was bombarded by Choji's presence.

Togame Jo who was nervous about what to buy for their first anniversary, everyone in Shishitoren noticed how Togame Jo became more and more irritable like his nerves were laid bare. He was seen mumbling to himself and getting thrown off by every little mistakes his gang mates made. He threw a fistful punch to opponents that carried more aggravation than usual.

Togame Jo who’s walking back home after Shishitoren’s meeting and saw a small shop dedicated for gifts. Togame Jo who saw a cute pair of keychain clearly designed for couples, they were two fuzzy bear keychain with pastel pink and pastel blue ribbons around its neck. His first thought that came to mind was, ‘She’d love this.’ It was like his instinct, knowing what you loved.

On your first anniversary, you got him a new wallet to replace his slightly worn out one. It’s safe to say that even when his white threads has sown its way in his scalp, it will still be found in his back pocket. When Togame had handed you his gift, you leapt at him in joy and he carried you in his arms with ease. There was something about your eyes and excitement that made his heart erratic, he wanted to keep seeing your smile.

#windbreaker x reader #wind breaker #windbreaker anime #wind breaker x reader #wind breaker x you #wind breaker x y/n #wind breaker manga #wind breaker fluff #togame x reader #togame jo x reader #togame jo #wind breaker headcanons #wind breaker angst #wind breaker fic

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thinkingotherwise · 7 months ago

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Requested by: @kwo22 can you do one with Sakura with a s/o who just compliments him randomly at times and he gets all blushy ykk? Love ur writing for windbreaker !!!!!! <3

There are so many blushy Sakura panels in the manga. I adore all of them.

Haruka Sakura x reader

Randomly complimenting him and using pickup lines.

Even before your relationship with Haruka, you knew he was so, so, so easy to fluster. His blushing face quickly became one of your favourite features in the man. You thought he didn't like it in the beginning always yelling and awkwardly telling you not to embarrass him. Surprisingly, he didn't mind when you complimented him, even seeking out your praises whenever the possibility for one arrived.

Everyone in Bofurin was aware, that when you were near your boyfriend his face would be red most of the time. You just knew what to do to make him this way. Were you bad for using it for your entertainment? Maybe. But he loved you either way so..

Another minute passed before his cheeks and ears burned red and he spluttered some things you couldn't understand turning away from you. You, however, laughed at his reaction and grabbed his hand before pulling him towards the school.

"Your hair and eyes have been always bi-colour and you will always be-mine." You said to him once, while you walked to school.

"What?" He looked at you confused trying to understand what you meant.

You sighed deeply before turning to him.

"You know bi-colour, be-mine." You pointed first at his hair and then at you.

Haruka wasn't aware that it was the first of many pick-up lines you'd use on him just to get a reaction, you so loved.

The next one was when he'd just beat down some guys, while you were watching from the sidelines. You cheered him on throughout the fight and as the last guy fell down you bounced up to him.

"Oh wow, that last punch was something." You complimented trying to imitate your boyfriend.

He puffed out his chest his face slightly pink from the fight and, mostly, the praise. The smile on your face turned to a smirk as you brought your finger to your lips humming in thought.

"Is your dad a boxer?" You asked him your grin starting to show as you knew what you'd say next, while he wasn't aware what he got himself into.

"What no! You know well enough that-"

"Because you're a knockout!" You cut him off quickly sending a wink and finger guns in his direction.

Haruka knew your intentions pretty well when it came to these random compliments and pick-up lines. He thought that with time passing he would get used to them and they wouldn't have that kind of effect on him anymore. Oh how wrong he was.

He stared at you his face reddening but he was too stunned to speak.

"Ah, you prefer knight in shining armour more, huh?" You teased him and instantly tried to evade the light slaps he sent into your arm to make you stop.

He ran after you yelling for you to stop while you ran away laughing and arguing you would never, because you knew he secretly loved it.

Collecting Haruka from Bofurin you gave him some snacks you bought on your way. He thanked you but when he saw you looking left and right carefully, he followed your gaze before asking.

"What is it?"

"Be careful the police may be on to you." You whispered to him and he looked at you appalled.

"Why? I didn't do shit."

"For stealing my heart." You said swiftly kissing his cheek.

His face was once again bright red and a frown appeared on his face.

He just couldn't believe that instead of him handling the situations like that better it was you who got better at acting and tricking him.

"You're an idiot." He said munching on the chocolate you gave him, pretty much still flustered by you.

"But I'm your idiot." Your words made him choke on the thing and you helped him before erupting into belly laughter.

Haruka was still blushing no matter how many times you exposed him to your affectionate words. He finally came to realize that you just had that effect on him and he didn't mind it that much anymore.

Tags: @misticbullet

#wind breaker (satoru nii) x reader #wind breaker (satoru nii)#wind breaker x reader #wind breaker #haruka sakura x reader

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elliesmainhoe · 2 years ago

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literally begging for more of the modernau!ellie x femreader (you're feminine)

Ellie Williams Headcanons: Feminine!Reader (modern!au)

Part 2 of this

Ellie adores how unashamed you are of being 'girly'

You dressed in typically 'girly clothes', you had 'girly hobbies' etc. Etc.

Said hobbies being the classic knitting, arts and crafts and reading

She absolutely loves when you infodump to her about your books.

Her stupid smile as you talk about a mystical fantasy or a cheesy sapphic romance.

Pottery dates

"C'mon Ells- were gonna be late!" You cried, holding onto her hand as you began to walk faster.

"The pottery studio is literally just round the corner princess" she said as you turned the bend, a pastel pink shop front with the words 'Polly's Pottery' written in gold across the window.

"C'mon, c'mon c'mon!" You giggled rushing into the studio, the bell chiming as you walked through the door.

You made a pastel pink bowl with little red strawberries all over it with sage green stems!

She made a space themed mug. Dark blue base and planets and stars scattered all over.

You gifted them to eachother afterwards <33

You have knitted Ellie a sweater. It was pink and definitely not her style. But she wears it with pride! ✊

Loves all the decor you buy.

The comparison of her industrial, grungy decoration and your bright neons, pastel cooky nik-naks.

Ellie is a MASTER at doing your hair.

Doesn't matter what hair type you have- she is willing to learn.

Face masks with Ellie.

Ellie was sitting down on the closed lid of the toilet as you brushed on a cool paste onto their face.

"This feels so fucking weird." She grimaced at the texture.

"Oh don't be such a baby" you teased and pecked her cheek, already sporting the same mask on your face.

Is your knight in shining armour.... When it comes to catching spiders that are threatening you.

You:

Baby 9:46pm

Come home rn 9:46pm

I'm scared 9:46pm

Ellie:

What's wrong baby? 9:49pm

I'm heading home as we speak 9:49pm

You:

We have an intruder 9:50pm

Ellie:

What? 9:50pm

Fuck baby! 9:50pm

You alright- what's the fucker look like. 9:50pm

You:

It has eight legs 9:51pm

It has hair on it Ellie. I CAN SEE THE BASTARDS HAIR. 9:51pm

She comes home and kills it for you 🥰

Then lectures you for making her so scared- she was one tap away from calling 911.

"I love you princess. But never ever pull that shit again"

-----------

Taglist: @aunslie @lonelyfooryouonly @prettypeoniesx @daryldixonh0e @kittynnie @lovelyyevelyn @randomhoex @moonlightdivine @haerinwho @mufflaa @mial1l @sarahsmileslikesarahd0esntcare @moonlighting87 @escaping-reality8 @magicalfreakcowboylawyer @hejdevkdbdjsd @dergy @half-of-a-gay @ellieismami @cyberlainn @gollumsmygel @sseorii @kyleeservopoulos @taloulalila @ellieluhme @kiiyoooo @delusionalvioleht @joelscharm @hi2647

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sp00kworm · 11 months ago

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One Word

Pairing: Enchanted Armour/Knight (Sir Jurdanus Dawling) x Reader

Warnings: Fighting, Fantasy Violence

Summary: An Enchanted Knight finds you amidst a mushroom circle and your life is never the same after.

Rain dripped down the back of your neck as you flopped onto the mossy floor. There was no way out of a mushroom circle. They were carefully laid traps, hidden behind roots and dotted in intricate patterns which made them hard to predict. Whatever Fae had hidden this one was powerful indeed. The mushrooms were like iron and the small pebbles between skipped upwards at your face when you attempted to break the circle. Your fingers were numb from trying to force them between the littler mushrooms. It was impenetrable, and eventually you would be food for the Fae who wanted to steal you away. There was some Fae that didn’t eat mortals, but those were far and few between. The only thing you could do was try and think of deals you could try to trick the creature which came to collect you. If it took them longer than a few more days, you would be dead anyway. There was an odd comfort in that. You wouldn’t be subjected to the whims of whatever the Fae decided to do with you. The other hope was someone stumbling along your path, but few would be able to taint the Fae circle enough to let you free, and you didn’t have much you could offer them anyway.

How many more hours would you last, you wondered? Defeated, you cradled your hand and sat inside the circle, massaging the tender joints as you watched the sun move overhead. It was nearly evening time, the sun was beginning to set along the horizon, threatening the sky with orange and pink. The trees rustled and birds sang their evening tunes as you picked at the pebbles around you and flicked them against the ward. The pebbles pinged back at you like a game, and for a time it was entertaining. Sodden moss wet your bottom and you tried to ignore the wetness on your backside, sitting on the moss in favour of the agony of sitting on several rocks. The old trees creaked in the wind, and you removed your satchel to look at the mushrooms and herbs you had managed to collect before getting stuck.

Suddenly, the whole woodland went quiet. No animal made a murmur as the wind continued to blow gently through the leaves. The hairs on the back of your neck stood on end, waving with the wind as there was a great ‘thunk’ in the distance. The heavy clunk of armour thudded along the winding path between the old, twisted trees. The blood in your limbs went cold and your heart leaped into your throat. You stood up again and watched down the old dirt path as a great, heavy suit of armour rounded the corner. The armour was maybe six and a half feet tall, and the heavy cloak fastened about the shoulders made it all the more imposing. The steel was stained with black carbon, and the details were once orange copper. The details were green in most places but the emblem in the centre of the chassis, once bright, was a Swan, swooping upwards towards the sky, its neck bowed gracefully. There was a crown around its neck, resting on the top of where its wings were spread. The Knight rounded the trees closest to you, his armour clanking before he stood, the visor fixed on you trapped in the circle of mushrooms.

“Sir!” You shouted, “Please could you help me out of this faery circle?”

The Knight tilted his head, watching you carefully as his other hand not rested on the trunk of the oak, reach for his sword. He had two on his back, strapped underneath the great fur cloak which lined his shoulders. Watching him reach for the sword you panicked and reached for your bag, attempting to find something which would prove you were not Fae.

“Please, Sir...” You rummaged, throwing the pouches of weeds and herbs you had collected before you dragged out a small iron link you had found. You clenched it between your hands and showed him your skin, “Please... I’m no Fae. I got trapped here while foraging. I promise!”

The Knight looked at the link before he thundered over, the dark metal of his armour glimmering in the setting sun. The copper detailing was sickly green, almost falling off, and his neck piece squeaked with rust as he drew the long sword from his back. He turned his stance and looked at the mushrooms before there was a rattle through the armour and his hand reached forwards to where the magical barrier lay. The barrier rippled under his hand, the magic caving like a bubble, but still resisting. With another shuddering rattle the Knight grasped his sword by the hilt and stabbed it forwards. The warding screamed as the blade burst through the magic, sending sparks flying as he heaved the iron through it, to the floor. When he reached the floor, the Knight turned the blade swiftly and severed several of the mushroom caps. The barrier faded with a hiss and just like that, you were free.

You tried not to gawp as the Knight sheathed his weapon and stood back, resting his hands on his hips. You quickly hopped out of the circle and sighed with relief as you collected your items. When you finished you looked back at the Knight.

“Thank you, Sir...” You asked, wondering what the Knight’s name was. He probably had a House Name.

The Knight shuddered inside his armour again before the joints clicked and a voice echoed inside, “Sir... Sir, S-Sir...” He couldn’t seem to say his name.

“I’m sorry?” You asked, “Sir?”

Again the voice echoed from inside, “Sir...Sir...”

You frowned softly at him before daring to reach for the visor which covered his eyes. He let you grasp the metal, subdued and quiet.

“Here let me open this so you can...” You said before tugging the visor. It remained firmly shut. With a grunt you tugged it hard. It stayed down, as though it was glued.

The pieces fell into place then, and you let your hands fall to his broad shoulders. You fisted the fur. It was well cared for but old and holes had opened in the bottom of the soft leather upper. The crest wad old, battered and stained.

“You’re cursed aren’t your?” You asked as you stood flat footed again on the woodland floor.

The Knight nodded his head and tapped the crest in the centre of his chest. There was the house crest and a small moto painted intricately underneath.

“Alte Volant”

“I’m no specialist but this is definitely noble house armour... but, well I guess I could help you, as thanks for helping me?” You offered with a shaky sigh.

The Enchanted Knight nodded, his neck squeaking a little, and offered a hand to you. You looked down and then realised he was offering to carry your bags. Carefully you gave him the larger of the two and kept your satchel.

As your bag landed in his gauntlet, the air fizzed and a blue skinned Fae stepped out from a tree, their eight eyes twitching at the sight of the broken circle. Quickly, you whipped around, but the Knight was faster. The Fae span with another hiss of fury, her hands raised, crackling with blue magic as the tree roots curled violently under the woodland floor. As she clenched her teeth, magic shot from her, and the Knight grabbed his shield from his back, the great steel plated with old iron. He dragged you behind him in a flash as the bolt clanged against the shield and dissipated like water, falling as mist f. The Fae hissed again her body morphing into the trees as she skittered around and observed you both through one great black eye.

“A suit of armour playing Knight.” She gloated, “You died a long time ago, Knight!” She hung from the tree and reached her scales fingers for his helmet, “Iron is unbecoming. Iron is cheating.”

Instead of an answer, he sliced her fingers off with a strike of his blade and pushed forwards. The Fae screamed, and you covered your ears, watching as the Knight slammed her head against his shield then again, with a downwards arch, sending the Fae flying against the floor. There was a great screech before the iron blade sliced through her neck. You jumped as blue blood spurted up the trees and shook behind a trunk as the Knight wiped his blade with a clump or moss. He looked up and reclined his head at you. Without him, you would be dead.

You took a deep breath, “Come on, let’s get out of the woods.” You beckoned him to follow you as you grabbed your bags and made your way down the path. The thump of heavy armour behind you was the only indication you had of the Knight following you.

Luckily, your home was on the outskirts of town, tucked against the woods you had just been trapped in. The stone cottage had smoke billowing out of the chimney still, so that was a good sign that the cottage would be warm still. You opened the gates and looked back at the Knight following you. He paused by the gate and stared for a moment at the small, cobbled path to your home before he stepped inside the garden and waited again. You looked at the blue blood which had stained his armour before closing the gate and leading him inside to your home. The door creaked a little as you let the hunk of armour inside and you closed it firmly before turning the key in the lock and heading to the hearth. As you stirred the hearth the Knight stood by the table looking up at the dried plants and flowers.

“Come and sit down, I don’t know of you can still feel the cold, but it’ll at least be better than standing by the door.” You waved him over before getting a damp cloth from the kitchen area for him to clean the blood off himself. Graciously he reclined his head and placed a gauntlet over his chest. He began carefully cleaning the blood from the grooves of the paint.

While he cleaned himself you placed a couple of logs onto the stirred flames and looked into the ashes. Sat at the back of the hearth was the charcoal coloured egg you had found so long ago. It was a dragon egg. Abandoned or stolen, you didn’t know, but there was life in it as it wiggled gently and soaked in the heat of the new fire. The Knight caught your gaze and peered at the wobbling egg in fascination. A disapproving grunt was his only comment.

“Yes, I know. But I couldn’t leave it to die with the Fae.” You reasoned softly as you emptied your bag onto your work surface. The Knight shook his head but continued his work.

“How about we look for your crest? I have an old history book somewhere, and it has most of the noble houses in it.” You offered.

His visor turned slightly but he made no effort to tell you he wanted to have a look. Ignoring his silence, you went to get the book.

The book was very old. Your great, great grandmother had taken it before the great collapse. Many of the old houses no longer existed, after the revolution, but a few still remained in the far reaches of the country. You wondered just how long this Knight had been wandering. With a thud you placed the book on the table and leafed through to the catalogue of old house emblems. There were around a hundred, and you took a breath before beginning to scan for the old, battered coat of arms which was printed onto his chest plate. A swan in flight. It was a regal link. The Knight had maybe been close to the Queen before the collapse and that was many years ago. He could have been cursed a long time.

“Edelwyn… nope that’s a tree. Oakenfast… no that’s an acorn. Unicorn… a hare. That’s a peacock…” You turned the pages as the Knight creaked next to the fire, warming the leathers of his skirts before he began to brush the dirt from his cape with a hard brush. His weapons were next and you watched him for a moment as he pulled out carefully stored oils and cloths and began to meticulously clean the Fae blood from the iron. A few more pages revealed nothing until a crown appeared.

“Well, we might be down the right track, Sir!” You cheered as you reached for the kettle and filled it from a pail of water. Once it was over the fire you fetched the book and sat in the other chair on the large, overstuffed pillows. You looked at the crest on his chest again and hummed, flicking between three pages before you found it.

“Dawling!” You cried out as you hopped out of the chair and showed the Knight the book. The crest on his chest was penned beautifully with inks of good quality. You beamed at his helmet as you pointed at the crowned swan.

With a faint creak of metal, the knight reached up to take the book from your outstretched hands. There was the faint sound of wheezing breathing through the visor of his helmet as he touched the page with the crest and then carefully, like he was caressing a baby bird, traced the letters of his family name.

“Dawling was the closest family to the Queen.” You told him quietly, “Before the revolution the Dawling family were the last near her and all of them were said to have perished when they burned the castle in the North.”

With a soft nod he looked over the small descriptive notes, his armour flexing gently with tension.

“I’m sorry, for what it’s worth…” You offered a gentle hand to him.

He said nothing but you watched him reach up, his fingers twitching. The metal of his gauntlets was cold against your skin but smooth and well looked after. Warmth enveloped his fingers from your skin and the Knight peered up at you. His visor was shined and as he put the book down you saw a faint glow behind the slats. Behind the metal there were two haunting eyes. The blue eyes glimmered before disappearing again into the darkness of the armour. Wisps of light trailed out of his neck.

“Would you like anything?” You asked as you patted his hand.

The knight shook his head as he looked back at the dancing flames.

“I suppose now I have to call you Sir Dawling!” You joked as you let go of his hand, “I wonder who put this curse on you though…I suppose we will never know now, but you can stay here a while if you like?” You offered.

Sir Dawling turned to look at you and nodded his confirmation, the flames reflecting patterns over his armour.

“I’ll make you the spare room up then.” With a smile you went to collect some linens but you were stopped by Dawling standing by the fire shaking his head, pointing to the sunset in the sky. With a confused stare you followed him towards the door and watched as he stood by the door, collecting his weapons.

“Can you not sleep?” You asked as he packed his weapons. He shook his head again and then made the shape of a butterfly which his armoured hands. When that didn’t work, he pointed to the blue blood which remained on his shield.

“The Fae? I doubt they would come this far out of the woods and beside they can’t get in here without invitation.” You soothed, but Sir Dawling shook his head and insisted, opening the door. He closed it behind him, his leathers squeaking a little as he sat outside the door on a small log. You looked through the glass of the window as he took his whetstone out and continued to work his blades. It seemed as though he was to stand guard. Maybe he didn’t need to sleep? He was after all, cursed. With a sigh you went to the fire and decided to make dinner, pondering on the curses which could have been cast over him before the revolution truly took root in the country. You stoked the fire gently around the dragon egg still nested in the coals. There was an answer to the riddle that you could not see.

A few hours later, after reading numerous books on the subject of magics, you hadn’t found many answers. The key to the Knight’s curse probably laid in the type of magic used to curse him. With more questions than answers you stood from the fire, wrapped tight in a blanket, and took the spare to the door. Quietly you listened behind the wood. Sir Dawling’s armour creaked with the phantom movements of his breathing and quietly the thud of his metal finger against his thigh. Quietly, you opened the door. His helmet turned to face you immediately. Dawling made a shooing motion with his fingers, beckoning you to head back inside. You stepped out onto the stone step and smiled at him before offering him the heavy woollen blanket. You could see he was eyeing the red dyed wool, but instead of giving him a choice you thrust it over his lap and smiled. Carefully, he unfolded the fabric and laid it over his thighs.

“You don’t have to stay out here you know… I feel bad with you out here protecting me and helping me again.” You sighed and rubbed at your shoulders against the cold.

Sir Dawling held his hand up and shook his head, as though it was no trouble at all for him.

“But still… there has to be something I can do?” You asked, “Or maybe give you? I don’t want you out here all night bored…”

Again, Sir Dawling shook his head and you sighed at his protest.

“Fine but please, come back inside if you’re cold or anything. I’ll keep the fire on for the little one anyway.” You joked.

He shook his head at the idea of the dragon egg again and fixed his gaze on the moon and the stars above. You left him there, gazing up at the night sky, and went to bed.

For fourteen nights, Sir Dawling sat outside your cottage. Reluctantly, throughout the day you let him follow you too and from your jobs in town. You didn’t have a particular profession, but you had a lot of room for foraging and several of the plants on your property were useful to the locals. Alongside a bountiful variety of mushrooms there were several herbs like mint and rosemary which were used in salves. Sir Dawling watched the exchanges carefully, wary of the townsfolk who were wary of him. The people asked after him curiously, but most of the people in the town were far too familiar with the workings of the Fae in the woodlands. Once you explained a few of them were even sympathetic towards the poor Knight, though the others knew that a crest meant he was once someone of an important station. Not many looked on the Queen or her Court favourably out in the woods. Still, no one had said anything, yet. Sir Dawling followed behind you, his tattered cloak billowing, and his swords an obvious statement of prowess. He didn’t need to draw them for people to know he was a killer.

“Are you going to sit out here again?” You asked on the fifteenth night as you gave him a clean blanket.

Sir Dawling shrugged his shoulders, and as always, he didn’t reply.

“Well would you like a fire? I don’t know if you can feel cold but I got a little cast iron fire pit while I was out in town today!” You pointed to the edge of the small vegetable patch where the iron pit was located.

With a creak, Sir Dawling stood up, his armour clanking as he reached the fire pit and then bent over in order to drag it closer to the door. He reached for a log from the stack you had down the side of the house, but you had already beaten the Knight to it.

“Here.” You smiled and watched him take the log before you went inside to fetch some kindling and a small scoop of hot coals from the fire inside, “You know, the egg is really close to hatching I think.”

Sir Dawling shook his head at the mention of the egg you had pilfered inside of your home.

“I know you think I’m silly for keeping it…” You said as you handed the Dawling the kindling, “But I couldn’t stand the idea of a poacher getting it! That or the Fae. I just wanted to see if I could save it.”

A long wheezing sigh echoed from the chamber of Sir Dawling’s armour as he took the hot coals from your hands and carefully poured the scoop under the kindling. The twigs quickly caught fire with a few fans of his hands. Gently, he handed you the fire scoop back to take back inside and you did so before returning, running with your oven gloves on, with the dragon egg in hand. The egg gave another shake and a creak as you ran for the fire pit outside.

“SIR DAWLING! FAN THE FLAMES QUICK!” You screeched.

Sir Dawling took the fan from your pocket and fanned the flames as high as he could get them as you rolled the egg gently into the fire. The charcoaled shell cracked with the smoking wood, and you gazed at it in amazement as fiery lines erupted over the surface. The red patterns intertwined with one another, weaving an intricate image over the shell before a small, horned nose butted a chip in the shell. Sir Dawling leaned close enough to watch the egg shake and a small nose batter at the shell again. The flames licked the surface, like a caressing mother, and you dropped the oven gloves in favour of squatting by the pit.

The iron base glowed with the heat as another great creak sounded and a spiked tail flopped into the wood. The wood spat at you as claws raked at the thick calcium, gouging freedom from the egg. Horns prickled the egg and soon a small, growl sounded from the flames. A small, jade green dragon curled in the fire, grumbling in the fire, its tail poised high, and its neck flared defensively. It hissed and spat a small flame. With a firm hand, Sir Dawling removed the fire poker and watched as the dragonling growled, its sharp, ravenous teeth flashing. You looked at the jewelled creature in awe before sitting by the side of the fire and replacing your oven mittens. The dragon spat, its horned prickled in your direction, but you reached gently to move the eggshell out of the fire. Dawling’s helmet shifted to you, watching as you reached into the coals again and then placed the meat you were going to cook into the embers. The dragon grumbled, lowly, like a cat, but quickly turned its slitted pupils on the meat. Its eyes were a glorious orange, like amber. Carefully, its claws hooked the food, and you delighted quietly as it took the food and began chewing at the chicken leg.

“I know…” You whispered at Dawling as he looked to reach for the poker again, “Its stupid to try, but I think I can do this. Its such a beautiful creature.”

With another echoing sigh, Dawling nodded and watched you feed the dragon.

Another leg of a chicken had the small dragon clawing at the edge of the fire pit, its head raised, looking up at you with a gentle rumble. The scales down its neck glittered in the fire light like gems. The dragon was beautiful. Carefully you dared to let the hatchling sniff your hand. The dragon rumbled, sniffed and then carefully pushed its head up into your hand. Underneath its chin, as it raise its head, there was the glittering of a bright, pearl coloured scale, round and fat like a heavy gemstone. It glittered before the hatchling ducked its head again and growled, hopping out of the fire to curl around your legs. The dragon peered up at Sir Dawling from between your legs, and cocked its head, wondering about the suit of armour which clunked in its seat.

“He’s cursed.” You offered down at the dragon, “He did something in his previous life which upset a great sorceress, so she made him like this.” You smiled at Sir Dawling, offering him your hand and a comforting squeeze. His gauntlets creaked with the squeeze, but you smiled at him and then offered the dragon your hand as well.

“Wait… how do I tell if it’s a male or female…” You whispered as you turned back towards the house. The dragon followed dutifully, swinging its tail like a happy kitten as you both slipped through the door.

“How do you like Frasadu?” You asked the dragon. It chirped in response, “So maybe you are a boy…”

Sir Dawling shifted on the log outside, touching the crest on his chest as he watched you go inside, feeling an odd ache where once his chest was. The Knight shook his head, moaning inside the armour as he reached for the poker by the fire.

There was a disgusting sound, like two pieces of metal grinding metal together, which woke you up. With a scream, you shot out of bed, just as there was a great slam against the heavy stone wall of your home. You heard the sing of iron outside, indicating Sir Dawling had drawn his sword. The dragon by the fire stirred, and opened his mouth, his teeth lighting with fire. You rushed to the door, grabbing a dagger before you opened it. Frasadu howled at outside, and you froze by the door as Dawling’s sword sliced through the first fae who dared to get too close. With a rush of odd light, his gauntlet slammed through the chest of another, and you stood, clutching at the iron dagger as the bottom wall of the garden exploded into rubble. A great insect like beast crawled over the stones, its mouth parts slicing against one another again to make the awful noise.

“DAWLING!” You screamed as the insect beast slammed a great, needle like leg down towards him. The Knight rolled and sliced upwards, severing one of the monster’s legs before he made a quick roll back towards you. He held his hand up and you watched as Frasadu roared, flaring his wings before he shot a great ball of explosive fire at the insect. The beast screeched and reared before its abdomen set ablaze, and it sprinted for the trees, howling.

The fae watched their monster run and hissed, their black eyes glinting like oil slick in the fire. A few of them slunk behind the logs and rubbles of your walls, watching as you reached to touch the top of Frasadu’s head. There was a brief moment of silence amidst the crackling rubble, both parties staring at one another. Dawling flicked the blood from his great sword and turned the flat of the blade upwards at the slinking faeries.

“You have dragon lord blood.” A great tall Fae slunk from the rubble, her white hair was braided intricately around her head, holding poisonous thorns and dried hawthorn leaves. Gossamer wings fluttered behind her, placing her before you gracefully. Her face was narrow, impossibly thin in all dimensions, and her skin glittered green with a shine of iridescence. Black eyes bore holes in Sir Dawling as he stepped between the two of you.

“Silence Knight.” She scoffed. Her clawed fingers gripped into a fist and you felt the metallic scream of Sir Dawling as he was thrown in the air, writhing, his armour denting and groaning in on itself, “The incessant smell of your shame bores me.” The Fae spat, “You were cursed for it, and so you will end with it, curled in a ball of molten rotting metal.”

“Wait!” You begged, holding your hands out as you rushed in front of Dawling. He howled above you as his gauntlets were peeled open, each joint pulling outwards from his body. His arms buckled as you stared down the Fae.

“He is protecting me. He saved me…and I have looked after him. He does not deserve this…” You asked of her, “Please, leave him be.”

“I, Ushura, Lady of Glowing Stars, will not let the Fae Slayer live.” Ushura screamed, her fingers gripping the metal, tearing at it with the familiar glow of blue magic. It was the same colour that glowed inside of Sir Dawling’s armour from time to time.

“Please, my lady.” You begged, “What can be done to repay this sin?” You asked.

Ushura spat her disdain at your feet, “Your Queen has long since died. She was the one who asked it of him, but he was the one who carried it out, burning our burrows, slaughtering our children in their nests!” Fury burned in her veins, the weight of a thousand lives, her people, heavy on her shoulders.

“He suffers still for his slight, my lady, but please, let him live.” You asked, “I do not know what I am or who I am to you, yet, but I can only try and make things right.”

Ushura held Sir Dawling aloft, but the crushing of his armour halted, as did his howling. You watched her black eyes soften a little at the edges as she looked at the small hatchling at your side.

“Misee wi. Forni talmas, ui porteh alme.” She spoke gently, watching as the dragon at your side listened, his ear turned to her. The hatchling dipped his head and turned, his head stretched upwards, revealing the pearl beneath his neck. It was strangely, like you knew what to do, and you reached out carefully to touch the pearl. Frasadu hummed against you, and there was a great spark of white, brilliant light. You heard the Fae recoil and hide behind the rubble. There was an unending ringing in your ears before the light dimmed enough to reveal a great shape before you. All the sights and sounds of your ruined home disappeared behind the great shadow. Two wings spread out, shadowing beyond you, far into the corners of your field of vision, and you gasped at the silhouette of the dragon before you.

“Long have I awaited the return of a Dragon Lord. You are the last. The last of the line of glory, of brotherhood and blood ties beyond that of this continent. Frasadu was not a name you came up with, but it has rather always been my name, little one. Together, we are to restore what is broken, to mend the broken reaches of the world. We are destined to be, as your Knight is destined to follow you. Tell them, in the old tongue. As one we once were, and as one we are once again.”

The light receded as quickly as it had appeared and when you could see again you looked at your fingertips touching Frasadu’s chin. The dragon’s orange eyes reflected wisdom of thousands of years, and you smiled as you cradled his chin. With a resolute breath, you turned back to Ushura.

“Ret yue fristra, ret yue gugartha ne.” You told the fae.

“Then as one you must all remain.” She hissed. Her claws unravelled, dropping Sir Dawling from her grasp. The knight landed with a great crash, armour clattering against stone. You tried not to turn, holding the gaze of the Fae as Frasadu puffed his chest out before you, spreading his wings out in a threatening display.

“You must not return here.” You told the Fae, “Sir Dawling is to remain with me.”

Slowly, the Fae disappeared back into the trees, their eyes merging with the shadows as the firelight flickered far from view. You watched them for a moment before rushing to Dawling’s side. The armour laid motionless, laid in dented chunks.

“Please don’t be gone.” You begged quietly as you turned his helmet and desperately tried to place him back together.

There was a groan from somewhere within all the scattered metal and you found a twitching gauntlet in time to hold Sir Dawling’s hand. The metal armour groaned as you took his hand and tears burned in your eyes. You felt the wet drops on your cheeks as Frasadu growled and dragged a crushed greave over by your side.

“I don’t know how to fix this!” You told the hatchling, and the knight who’s head was laid in your lap.

The helmet visor clicked open with a sudden screech of metal. Your tears dripped inside the shell only to see the faint wisps of soul slowly swirling inside. The gauntlet by your feet twitched before it began to float, the dent groaning as the leather gloves stretched. You sobbed as you watched it float, the fingers reaching for you. The tips caressed the apples of your cheeks, slowly shifting downwards before they gave a gentle twitch. The chest plates expanded with a groan.

“Dragon… Lord.” Sir Dawling wheezed, his armour shaking, grinding along the floor as it attempted to fuse back together. You clawed at the pieces, pulling them together as your tears dripped down the once beautifully intricate metal work.

“Can we fix him?” Frasadu rumbled innocently. He sat next to you, his scales against your leg, “His soul is still here.”

“I don’t know how to fix this Dawling…” You wept on the armour with a thundering sob.

“Jurdanus…” Dawling wheezed, “Jurdanus… Dawling.”

“Jurdanus, please, Sir Dawling, I can’t…” You stuttered as you finally placed the rest of the armour together.

The knight gave one final, heaving breath, before the light dimmed behind his visor and the metal went slack against the stone. The fire continued to crackle behind you, dulling the sensation of reality for a moment before you placed your hands on Frasadu wept onto his scales. Sir Jurdanus Dawling didn’t move. The fires crackled as you held Frasadu close, and you looked to the stars in the night sky above. All was quiet, for a moment, before there was a gentle whoosh, like gas being lit. Frasadu grumbled, shifting in your grasp, stretching to look at the armour as a soft blue wisp drifted down towards you both. Amidst the fire you watched the light swift before it formed the shape of a large man. The silhouette drifted closer, and a hand reached to touch your cheek, tracing the same pattern Sir Dawling had drawn.

“Jurdanus?” You asked, hopefully.

The silhouette nodded before spreading its arms and laying backwards. The light disappeared back into the armour. A great whoosh sounded again before the ruined armour before you clanged, shifted, and banged, rumbling violently as it once again took on the perfect shape of a suited knight.

The light behind the visor glowed once more and with a delighted shriek you jumped over Sir Dawling’s hips, delightedly shaking his shoulders as he reached up to steady you by the waist.

“I’m so glad you’re okay!” You wiped the tears from your face, sniffling.

Jurdanus nodded his head and reached to wipe the tears from your cheeks. Tenderly, he cupped your face, and there was a whisper of thanks on the wind, although no voice echoed from within the armour. You smiled and howled with laughter as Jurdanus sat up and dragged you with him, holding you close to his chest as he span through the garden, with Frasadu hot on his heels.

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uniquevoidflowers · 6 months ago

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Y'all asked for it. Drawings and explanations under the cut of Legend, Wind, Warrior and Hyrule (just to be clear don't expect anything bc I dunno how to draw really):

Starting with Legend (top left): The prince ofc. He's 17 in this au, and it's ok to ship him with Marin and Fable. The getup he has on in this drawing, he never wears when he sneaks out but when mostly when he's in the castle. He dyed half his hair. It was supposed to be red but it came out pink instead. He ended up secretly liking the pink though. Although not coloured atm, his outfit is red with the exception of his pants and belt. The little details on the sleeve are gold, his belt is brown. His pants are a creamy brown.

Little facts about him ig:

-Hates feeling vulnerable

-Fears being trapped or losing reality

-was very sickly as a child

-very good at many instruments; he enjoys learning them

-refuses to sing though

-wants to learn how to swordfight

-collector (he also enjoys collecting things)

-born in Castletown, Hyrule

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Wind (top right): He's 14 and has a dark brown eye colour. Lots of freckles. His shirt is a bright green. He likes blue more but his Grandma liked him to wear green, so he wears it to honour her. His pants are a simple brown. His Grandma, passed when he was 12, and his parents had been missing even before that. He now lives with Green, Red, Blue and Vio. Aryll, his sister, lives there as well.

More little facts:

-loves seafood

-picky about other foods

-protective of his younger sister

-Aryll WAS kidnapped before :)

-used to pretend to be a pirate as a kid, still loves reading about them

-loves acting

-optomistic

-chaotic

-hates cold tempatures

-fears the dark, and losing his sister again

-loves bugs

-loves thunder and rain

-born in Outset, Hyrule

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Warrior (bottom left): He's 22. His armour is a uniform, but the scarf was made by his mother before she passed away. The back of his scarf has a signature by her. He rarely parts with it. The uniform was inspired by botw's Hylian knight armour. He's Legend's personal knight, promoted after helping greatly in the war. Armed most of the time.

Little facts:

-Has 5 other sisters

-good with kids

-twins with one of his siblings, Linkle

-was popular among many ladies when he first joined knighthood

-also hates cold enviroments

-fears being hated, or failing

-has a 'soldier' mode where he doesn't show his emotions and is very calculative and serious

-born in Castletown, Hyrule

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Hyrule: He's 16. It's ok to ship him with Dawn. His clothes were made by Blue, they're a darker green. Messy hair, never takes care of it. (even if he needs to) and gold outlines on his clothes. He's a great friend of Legend's, meeting him a year ago.

Little facts:

-timid around strangers

-had an older brother but he ran away awhile ago

-very good at survival

-has magic abilities that he discovers later in the story

-looks up to Legend

-kinda skittish and jumpy

-bashful

-self-worth issues

-born in Selina of Calatia

#unique talks #royal link au #if y'all have any questions just ask

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milkbobatyun · 7 months ago

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let you break my heart again

pairing: kang taehyun x fem!reader

genre: angst, fluff (if u squint really closely), bsf to more than friends to strangers, school au, right person, wrong time (sort of?), miscommunication (-ish?)

summary: in which you and taehyun are childhood friends, but as you grow older, some things make you think that you're more than friends. yet, the universe and fate love to play cruel games on you.

word count: 2.8k

a/n: this is my first time writing on tumblr and i did this instead of studying for my legal test (°ー°〃) this whole piece imo is a hot mess, but it was inspired by real life so this is in a way, a sort of speical thing to write. to the person that made me feel this way, thank u for giving me inspo for this. and also thank u to my faithful quality checker @yeonjunsfox, dude you had to read through this thing like sm times (｡ŏ_ŏ)

i. prologue

she could remember it clearly. it was a sticky summer day. it would have been perfect, blue sky for miles and fluffy clouds nowhere to be seen, if not for the fact that the sun was baking down onto the earth and causing sweat to come pouring down her back, yet this was not enough to deter her from hosting a teddy bear picnic in her front yard, plastic cups clinking against the pink and white plastic plates that came with it. but, as a five-year-old child, her attention span was short, playing with the teddies for an hour was already a feat in itself, yn wanted more. she wanted adventure.

just as she thought that, she caught sight of a white moving van rolling up to the newly-purchased house beside her house. in her childish excitement, she quickly stood up, almost tripping over herself in excitement, before she politely dusted her hands on her little yellow sundress, peeking on her tiptoes to see over the fence. to her surprise, she came eye to eye with a smiling little boy, round boba eyes bright with wonder and anticipation.

“hi! i’m taehyun! i’m…” the little boy paused, before he pulled out his hands and started counting. “i’m five!” taehyun held up five fingers in delight. ecstatic that she had someone else to play with, yn and taehyun became fast friends.

ii. when we were kids

throughout their younger school years, they had always been in the same class and their friendship grew stronger, until they were each other’s best friends. now, they had just begun their first year of middle school. with the process of growing up, their dynamic also changed. maybe it came with the arrival of adolescence, but their relationship, something, was different and yn couldn’t put her finger on it.

sure, as children they would hold hands, especially when yn was nervous. often, taehyun would tease her about how she was a ‘scaredy-cat’, but would secretly love the way that she would shy away, into his back. he often boasted about how he was her knight in shining armour and she was his princess. as children, when they were leaving a play date, one or the other would often give a cute little kiss on the other’s squishy cheek to bid them fair well. yn could remember so clearly, the cooing noises their mothers would make, seeing that interaction. in fact, they loved it so much that both mothers had matching framed photos on their living room mantelpiece of a secret photo they snuck.

but now, it was different. there were more fleeting touches, possessive holds, namely from a devilishly handsome teenage taehyun. sometimes, he would sneak up from behind her, while she was grabbing things from her locker, and his arms would circle her waist, before he lifted her into the air, with her legs kicking. other times, he would be more sensible, wrapping his arms around her from behind before leaving his quote-on-quote “stupid, heavy head” on her shoulder. what taehyun didn’t know was how hard yn would try to suppress her smile when his hair tickled her neck.

most of the time though, yn could curse his stupid height. now that he was taller than her, he would often rub it in by petting her head, before using those stupidly long legs to run away from her. goddamn it, why did god give him such spidery long legs! doesn’t he know how tiring it is to run after him every day just to get her revenge?

being the school heartthrob’s best friend was hard, many times a day would yn be stopped in the hallways by girls and guys alike, asking her if she could pass this on to taehyun, pass that message on to him, or answer such questions about taehyun’s hobbies. more often than not, she would diligently pass the message on to taehyun, not without a tone of teasing mockery, on their walks home together. those were the best times, when the setting sun was the only witness to their banter, as they zig-zagged across the path leading to their homes, playful shoving accompanied by sarcastic jokes and digs, a secret language created by the two of them.

iii. still you take up all my mind

the second year of middle school was no different. taehyun and yn were still attached to the hip, they were barely anywhere without each other, supporting each other both in public and private. they were each other’s comfort.

yn could remember as clearly as yesterday, when they were both in some stupid lecture, where the lecturer had jokingly said that if they got bored, they could sleep through it. excited at this rare opportunity to sleep through a WHOLE lecture, taehyun immediately turned to yn. he knew that in the past week, she hadn’t been sleeping well. who would, if they had 5 assignments to hand in, back to back in the past 3 days?

he wordlessly offered her his shoulder to lean on and without missing a beat, yn immediately took the offer, resting her head on his shoulder. what surprised her though, was the added weight she felt when taehyun leaned his head and rested it on top of hers. this feeling was foreign, but it made her feel warm and fuzzy on the inside and so, they slept peacefully through the whole lecture, heads resting together, hands almost touching on the shared armrest.

iv. im just trying to understand

she doesn’t remember when it started happening, but slowly, their fleeting touches and linked pinkies during their walks together began to make her feel something more. it ignited a flame and sparks of electricity when their skin made contact. those warm, comforting back hugs made her heart do somersaults and butterflies spawn in her stomach, tickling her insides with their fluttering wings.

she didn’t take notice of it, until a friend of hers mentioned in passing, “hey, have you ever wondered if taehyun liked you? he’s always attached to you, almost acting like a boyfriend.” initially, yn dismissed her friend’s claims with a nonchalant shake of her head and a laugh, thinking that the notion was hilarious and she was so funny for mentioning something like this.

that afternoon, while taehyun and yn were walking home, taehyun subconsciously reached out his hand, linking his pinkie with hers. this sudden contact sent a sparkle of shock up yn’s arm and her heart jumped in her chest. hell, she was so surprised she almost jumped off the sidewalk into oncoming traffic. that was when her friend’s words crept back into her mind again.

‘does taehyun like me? or are we just friends?’

she thought long and hard. did other people��s best friends bring them their favourite snack when they felt down? did their best friend try their hardest at rigged arcade games to win them the plushie they had wanted? did their best friend always leave the sweetest notes in their locker before exam season? did other people also call their best friends until late at night, talking about everything and nothing at the same time? or was that what a boyfriend did?

those ideas wormed their way into her brain, warmth blooming across her cheeks. it spread like a virus, before that was all she could think about the whole walk home.

when she got home, she flopped onto her bed, burying her face into the nearest plushie and, with a silent apology for the abuse her plush was about to suffer, she let out a muffled scream.

this was too hard. romance was too hard, how did the people in the books she read and in her school manage? did they also face the same predicament she was in? did they also have a more than 10-year friendship on the line like her?

sighing, yn stood back up, smoothing out her hair, her mind set on getting her homework for the day done, just so she could keep her brain occupied with useless information that she most likely wouldn’t need later in life, rather than the handsome, lovable, sarcastic boy who was her best friend and lived next door to her.

she should’ve known her efforts would’ve been futile. during class, her eyes would wander to stare at the sculpture of art that was taehyun’s face, sitting next to her. her hands drew restless doodles and her thoughts were plagued with the possibility that maybe, just maybe this boy, her best friend, would like her.

these thoughts haunted her day and night, resurfacing at the times she least expected. they sprung up in her mind every time she felt his arms wrap around her waist. the contact that used to bring her so much comfort and warmth now only brought about unwanted thoughts of doubt and confusion, causing her to dread the familiar weight of those arms and attempts were made to worm her way out of the long limbs that entrapped her.

taehyun first noticed how strange his best friend was acting when she almost threw herself onto the road from the mere contact of their pinkies touching. initially, he brushed it off as his overreaction, after all, they had done this often enough that she should’ve been used to it. but as time went on, he began to doubt what he called, his ‘ynnie instincts’. things just weren’t right, somehow everything he did warranted a very strange and out-of-sorts reaction from his most beloved best friend.

did he do something wrong? was he making her uncomfortable?

these thoughts plagued his mind, day and night, while he was doing homework, eating dinner, anything. his thoughts always drifted to her. her face, her favourite food, her comfort characters, everything they’d done together, he had everything memorised. so what had he done to make her react in such a way towards him? he thought, he pondered, he wondered, but nothing clear came to mind.

v. what i am to you

the warm summer days came and went, so too did the autumn days, and then the winter days before spring finally arrived. along with the changing of the seasons, taehyun and yn’s relationship also changed.

it was like a huge chasm had opened up between them. the pair, who once spoke about everything together, now barely talked to each other. after the break, yn had had the time to think things through and she finally found some answers for herself. yes, she did like her best friend. but did he feel the same way? that question, she left unanswered. as for taehyun, he was still in the dark about what rendered such actions from his closest friend.

in an attempt to restore their friendship, yn would seek out taehyun after classes ended, in hopes that they could rekindle their friendship, yet every time she looked for him in the corridors, he was with his new friends that he had made. frankly, they were intimidating, especially the one kid with dimples, who was super tall.

so, as any intimidated person would do, she avoided their group at all costs, but after school, she would often text taehyun or share some funny videos she saw online. however, as time went on, the replies she got were more distant, and disinterested. sometimes, she dared let herself hope, sending over a cheesy little pickup line, hoping he would take the hint and make the first move, or at least drop a hint.

one time, she took a plunge into the deep end, sending a maths pickup line. after thinking about it for a while, she followed the video with ‘hahaha jk (unless?)’. in the end, she was once again left disappointed, with his stupid, stupid, logical reply of how ‘u’ and ‘i’ were used in maths, just for something else. for once, the conversation bounced back and forth between the two of them, until taehyun left her on read and never replied.

he was conflicted. did she like him the same way he liked her? those videos that she would send and the follow-up message of how they reminded her of him suggested one possibility, yet her responses when she noticed he was within a 50-meter radius of him suggested otherwise.

god, girls were confusing.

so of course, taehyun did something that, thinking back, was so stupid. he messaged one of the girls who had yn pass on her phone number to him.

they began talking more often, but every time taehyun saw her name flash across his screen, he didn’t feel that familiar spark of anticipation, of excitement. he felt nothing. yet every time his phone vibrated with a new notification from her, his ynnie, he felt fireworks explode in his heart. at the same time, he tried to stamp out these feelings.

“she doesn’t feel the same way” echoed like a mantra in his head. maybe if he told himself that enough times, he would believe it.

maybe talking to another girl wasn’t the best idea, or at least, telling your loud-mouth friends wasn’t the best idea. not even 2 periods had passed since taehyun had told his friend, beomgyu that he was talking to another girl, that at least half the year level knew about this new girl.

yn was only walking past a group of friends huddled together when she caught wind of what they were talking about.

“have you heard? taehyun’s talking to another girl!” one girl stage-whispered. there was a collective gasp. “no way! i thought him and yn were a thing?” another girl gossiped. “haven’t you seen the way taehyun and yn would act? i would’ve thought they were practically in love with each other.” a guy countered. “no way taehyun is talking with a different girl right?”

vi. if only you knew

in a final attempt to save their failing friendship, yn sent taehyun a long message after she got back from school that day. she poured her heart and soul into her message, deleting things and editing it over and over again in her notes app, until she was finally happy with her message. she included how she hoped their friendship could continue, she enjoyed all the moments they shared. maybe they could talk more? the message also eluded to something more, courtesy of her friend, who cheered her on over text to say that.

taking a deep breath, she sent it.

like a woman possessed, yn checked her phone every couple of minutes. while she was doing homework. right after she finished dinner. she flipped her phone after every episode of the kdrama she was watching finished. yet to her dismay, he hadn’t even read her message.

late that night, while she was preparing to head to bed, her phone vibrated, from on her bedside table. her ears pricked up at the sound of the familiar vibration, her heart soaring in her chest when she saw the contact name.

‘tyunnie sent one new message!’

clicking open the message, she felt her heart plummet.

two sentences. it only took two sentences to completely shatter her heart.

‘hey, i saw your message, i hope we can continue being friends too, but as you’ve probably heard, im currently talking to another girl. i hope you understand.”

vii. pretend that we're more than friends

no matter how much effort she put into maintaining their friendship, taehyun’s delayed replies for days and weeks exhausted her. she told herself, it was because of this new girl. she wasn’t envious of her. all she wanted was the best for him and maybe, she wasn’t enough.

after staring mindlessly at her black phone screen, waiting, hoping for a reply, she finally gave up. with a sigh, she turned over her phone, before resting her head on her desk. maybe she should stop getting her hopes up again.

maybe that’s all they’ll be, once best friends, now they were…whatever they were now.

despite all that, she hoped and dreamed that one day, someday, she’ll stop falling in love with her best friend. maybe one day, he would find the one for himself, but until then, she would allow herself to have a bit of hope maybe, pretending in her mind that they were still friends or maybe more than friends, the blurred line between friends and something more.

maybe still, he would be the person she sought out when she entered a classroom or was lost in the crowded hallway, even if all she would ever see was the back of his head. that was enough for her. when the time comes that he finds the one for him, she would happily let him break her heart once again.

in the end, taehyun and the girl had split up. the girl realised her true feelings, while taehyun finally came to terms with his love for his best friend. little did she know that every time she turned away, his longing eyes would search for her familiar silhouette in the crowd, hoping she would turn around and catch his eye.

∧,,,∧ ( ̳• · • ̳) © curated with love by milkbobayun 2024 / づ ♡

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sayafics · 1 year ago

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Dance of Shadows - Chapter I

Hi guys, I hope you enjoy the first chapter of this series!

I know the teaser was an excerpt of another chapter after Aemma died, but I wanted to add some context/depth to Daemon and Saenyra's relationship before that, since there's such a long gap in the timeline before he returns to Kings Landing after beating the Crabfeeder.

I hope I got the timeline right, and I do hope this lives up to your expectations! Please let me know what you think, all comments and reblogs are appreciated <33 thank you to everyone who showed love on tha teaser excerpt!

Next Chapter

Masterlist

Saenyra had just spent the last few hours lounging in the library, browsing through books ranging from histories of the Seven Kingdoms and how they came to be, to the myths and legends of dragons and other beings which lurked the lands they inhabited and the seas they wished to rule, to charming scrawls of love written in between lines of literature and poetry.

She had finally found a book she was content with, eager to return to her room before divulging its contents. If she were to hurry, she was sure she would be able to finish before it was time for dinner.

With the book held in one hand, Saenyra used the other to gather the skirt of her dress. Whilst her sister preferred to adorn herself in gowns of black and red - the designs grand yet mature for her age, Saenyra deigned to dress herself in shades which resembled the skies on a warm autumn eve or the sun on a bright summer's day. She would parade around the Keep in hues of yellows and blues, greens and pinks - whatever it was that her heart so desired.

As she made her way through the Keep, eyes roving around the walls as she treaded through corridors and weaved past bowing knights and respectful Lords, she turned the corner only to bump into a solid figure.

Saenyra stumbled back, her hand letting go of her skirt to brush against her forehead as she took in the figure in front of her, a slight pout on her lips. Her eyes found her smudged reflection glinting in a shining and tainted armour, gleaming in the light of a new day but stained with the signs of a bloodied battle.

Her eyes continued their path until they met a set of familiar violet hues.

Oh.

Before her stood Daemon Targaryen, looking as though he had slaughtered an army single-handedly. His eyes were bright with the thrill of a good fight. He looked lively, and if she peered closely enough, she could see how he trembled with unbound energy that coursed through his veins.

At the sight of his niece, the one so quiet and quaint who looked up at him with wide eyes and parted lips, Daemon found an unfamiliar softness seep into his features, "niece, my apologies."

He rarely saw his little niece around the Keep when he did come, he preferred to keep company with whores and dragons.

It was with poorly hidden determination that Rhaenyra would find him, trailing his every step.

When Rhaenyra had found him before his bloodbath in the city, he had gifted her a necklace. A piece of shared ancestry, a piece of home. Now, glancing at Saenyra's bare throat, he wished it had adorned her instead.

Daemon was not one for apologies, even Saenyra was aware of that. So, to hear the words brought a heat upon her cheeks as her gaze became down-turned, "I fear I must apologise too, dear uncle. I must have become too distracted with my thoughts."

A smirk tugged at Daemon's lips at the sight of her bashfulness, amusement colouring his features as he spoke, a teasing tone tainting his innocent words, "ah yes. I believe it is only right if you make it up to me then, don't you think?"

Daemon had never spoken to his neice in such a way, too fearful of what his brother might do. Of what he, himself, might do.

Daemon could not be the reason his darling niece shed tears. He would not forgive himself if he was the reason she were to break.

Seanyra's head had never looked up so fast, eyes flitting around the corridor as she leaned closely, as though she was sharing a secret - "of course. Only if you promise not to tell Kepa." Father.

The easy slip of High Valyrian made Daemon heady with the desire to hear it again, and his eyes burned into her at the eagerness she showed as she was desperate to make things right. His smirk grew broader at the show of her naivety, but still - he would make no fool of his sweet neice, his little 'nyra.

"Anything for my Zaldrītsos." Little Dragon.

Her heart twisted slightly at the endearment, despite the heat that flushed her body once more - although said good-naturedly, the word was a stark reminder that the only dragon the girl had was the one pumping through her blood. It was a subtle reminder of the differences between Saenyra and her sister, of how Rhaenyra has conquered a dragon and emanated a fierce and challenging nature, whilst Saenyra was simply a dragon by name.

Daemon could see how her eyes dimmed at the word, hated how her smile wavered - the Seven Kingdoms would rave about the similarities between Daemon and Rhaenyra, how the two had fire running through their veins and charging their souls, how they would burn each other to ash should they get too close. And with Saenyra, they would whisper about her lack of spark, how she didn't have the charm of a Targaryen, nor the fire of one too.

All that tied her to the Targaryen line was her silver-white hair and lilac eyes.

But a part of Daemon, a dark and repressed echo that grew louder as the days went by, found that he preferred it as such. She was a calm summer evening, a quiet winter's day.

Daemon was chaos, and Saenyra was peace.

Her voice broke him out of his reverie, "so, what is it that you want?"

There was a curious smile on her lips, her eyes searching his as she became impatient. He huffed a laugh, teeth bared in a broad grin - "I guess you shall have to wait and see."

Daemon knew what he would ask. He had been thinking of doing so from the moment he had stepped foot back in King's Landing and seen his Saenyra. She had grown tall, her hair flowing down her back is careless ruffles, flowers twisted between the intricate braids that adorned her head as a circlet rested atop her brows. Her gowns were tight fitting, the neck would swoop low, or her arms would be bare of fabric, and sometimes, if he was lucky, careful patterns would be cut into the lining of her waist to reveal the milky skin that lay underneath.

Daemon would be lying if he said a part of him hadn't grown feral at the sight, something dark and desperate coming to life within him as his desires for Saenyra grew stronger.

It was something unexpected, especially by him. He had expected, if anyone, it would be Rhaenyra he would pursue. The two were in a silent battle for the place of heir at Viserys' behest, fervent prayers that the next child Aemma gave birth to would not be a boy. So it would make sense to present a united front. To present themselves as a joint option, a better choice to the other heirs Viserys would force his wife to bear.

But Rhaenyra and Daemon had the fire of a dragon running through them, and they would ultimately burn each other and leave nothing but destruction in their wake.

Daemon cleared his throat, forcing himself to stray from his traiterous thoughts and focus on his task - he had to attend the meeting with the Council, he had to reach Viserys before they filled his head with lies about Daemon - before they seeded doubt and had him sent from the Seven Kingdoms once more.

"I must take leave now, dear niece."

Daemon skirted around the girl, his golden cloak billowing behind him, the soft and bloodied material brushing against her cheek in an imitation of affection he longed to show himself. His moves were slow and sluggish as though he was hoping she'd stop him. And she did exactly that - "where are you going, Kepus?" Uncle.

He inhaled sharply at the Valyrian word, there was a frown on her lips as her head twisted in question and Daemon felt as though he would kneel for her and give all of himself right there, if she had simply asked.

Her hand came to hold his own as she tugged at his fingers. Daemon risked a glance down, eyes tracing over her nimble fingers and how they dwarfed against his own. She tugged again, "Kepus."

The word was stressed and elongated, hoping to catch the man's attention as he kept gazing off to a place far from where she could see.

"The King wants to see me," it wasn't a complete lie, but it was an easy one, "I wouldn't want to keep them waiting."

She nodded, understandingly. But there was a part of her left unsure by his words, Daemon was never one to obey with such ease - always at the ready to challenge those around him, including his own brother. Even if he was King.

It seemed, however, his words were enough to snap her into a state of disinterest, she turned away from him with such ease and continued on her way, a soft "I shall see you later, then," passed over her shoulders with a friendly smile as she walked away from him.

Daemon found he could do nothing but watch.

***

Saenyra hadn't left her chambers much after her encounter with her uncle - with no dragon to tend to, and the lack of duties as a second-born and the burden of being a girl, she had no pending responsibilities. Left in the confines of her room, she made due with what she had - her books.

There was not much else to do in King's Landing, with no Kingsguard assigned to her yet, she was not free to roam the cities that belonged to her father.

Saenyra ate in her chambers, despite the call for her to join her family in her father's - were she to join, she was sure the room would be full of praises for a successful Rhaenyra - whether it was how she was getting on with her lessons with the Septa or a new dragon-riding trick mastered, or whispers of possibilities of their future son - a new heir and a new King in the making.

Anything but Saenyra.

All throughout the hours of the night, even as she laid her head to rest, her mind would tiptoe back to the voice of her uncle.

Despite all his time in the Keep, and all his trips out, Saenyra had never been able to bond with her uncle the way she wishes she had. The way Rhaenyra had.

Daemon had been the Master of Laws, the Master of Coin, and now Commander of the City Watch. And throughout it all, she had been unable to bond with her uncle in a way she was desperate for ever since she was a child. She remained oblivious to his glances and heated stares, to the dark whispers in his mind and the temptation that lurked under every passive graze and touch.

It was instead Rhaenyra who found him, who bonded with him. Who found common ground in their love for riding and dragons and violence. Rhaenyra who adored her uncle as he adored her. As everyone adored her, in a way Saenyra craved for them to cherish her.

The two would gush over dragons and tales of battles and wars, a wistful tone taking over Rhaenyra's voice as she spewed questions at her uncle whenever he dined with them, and a look of admiration would sparkle in Daemon's eyes as he answered every question with ease.

Saenyra would sit quietly, never speaking aloud unless spoken to, and even that was quite rare. So, for her uncle to say he wants something from her? It was a surprise, indeed. And a bubbling sensation of guilt began to fester as she realised that she felt excitement build at the prospect. What would Rhaenyra think? Would she be hurt? Jealous?

Saenyra was not blind to how Rhaenyra was captivated by Daemon, how she craved him and called to him. Although Daemon was both of their uncle, there was an unspoken claim placed upon him from the moment Rhaenyra was old enough to articulate her fascination with the man. A silent boundary, a whispered challenge Saenyra had never dared to overstep. And she was worried she may now.

Would he ask to take her dragon-riding? Perhaps he would ask her to steal him some lemon cakes, as he had when she was much younger? Or maybe he would ask for a favour she couldn't provide.

Perhaps, he wanted her help to get Rhaenyra something. Or to tell her something.

Saenyra wasn't blind to Daemon's own infatuation with her sister, whether it was because of her claim to the throne or her violent beauty. The man was enamoured, even if he tried to deny so.

She resigned herself to the idea of having to wait until Daemon had finally asked her whatever it was he decided, a frustrated sigh escaping her as she rolled onto her side and faced the open balcony windows, watching as the soft winds blew a quiet tune through the curtains. Her eyes traced over the dark shadows of King's Landing, her eyes finding the moon and seeking comfort in its shallow glow.

With steady breaths, she fell asleep quickly, her mind flashing with images she had long learned to ignore. What good is being a dragon dreamer when you are unable to tame one?

***

In the cities of King's Landing, Daemon had taken to throwing himself in the arms of lust as he sought out ways to expel his energy and frustration in the brothels of Silk Street.

He had been here for perhaps hours now, gyrating and grinding against the softness of his paramour. Mysaria wasn't a quiet lover, her moans drawing an audience as he pounded relentlessly, chasing a high that escaped him at every turn.

No matter how hard he tried, how much he relied on his imagination - it wasn't what he wanted. This wasn't who he needed.

The meeting with the Small Council hadn't ended badly, but Otto's reminders of his duties to the Bronze Bitch of the Vale continued to follow him. A dark reminder that although his marriage was not consumated, in the eyes of the Seven Kingdoms and in the eyes of his brother, Daemon was a married man. And even if Targaryen men had taken on second wives before, he knew his brother would never accept such an ordeal.

But still, such moral obligations hadn't stopped him from chasing his pleasure in brothels and amongst whores. Yet, Mysaria's dark hair was a pitying reminder of the woman he felt no love nor lust for and so proved to be a dampener for his fun, amongst other things.

He sighed out of frustration, halting his hips as he laid his head against Mysaria's shoulders. He pulled out roughly, tugging a blanket over his naked form as he trudged towards the window in a hollowing mix of rage and despair. His eyes found the stars, seeking comfort in their luminous glow as his mind flitted over myths and legends of constellations etched into the dark sky.

Mysaria followed, consoling the man as she praised him. But her words had no effect on him, so she offered him something more instead.

"I could bring in another? Perhaps one with silver hair."

Daemon was tempted to say yes, urged to give in to his fantasies and imagine.

But it wouldn't be what he wanted. No, the whores of Silk Street - the bastards of the Targaryen line, although their hair grew white it wasn't the right shade. Too different for him to be able to pretend.

And Daemon didn't want to pretend.

Twisting his fingers and tugging strands of golden-white hair were a mere illusion for the girl he pretended he wanted.

The girl he truly desired was one he would never taint, her hair brighter and longer - the wisps of her soft, white hair were their own streaks of light, like beaming stars in the night sky.

No, it wouldn't be the same.

It wouldn't be what he wanted - what he needed.

Daemon Targaryen wanted Saenyra. But he knew he could not have her.

He would not take her, for fear of corrupting her. Of ruining her, and breaking her beyond repair.

Taglist: @marihoneywk @ahristata @gracielikegrapes @luanasrta

#daemon targaryen x y/n #daemon targaryen x oc #daemon targaryen x reader #daemon x reader #daemon targeryan #daemon targaryen #otto hightower #house of the dragon #hotd #smut #daemon targaryen smut #daemon targeryen x reader #daemon targaryen fluff #dance of shadows

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tigergirltail · 4 months ago

Text

Intruder in the System - Abstraction

"Synchronization achieved. Opening cognitive gateway. Five entities entering."

The synthetic voice of the Subconscious Mind Integration system rang out across the constructed virtual space, causing the assembled headmates of the connected systems to look towards the opening doorway.

"And that must be Alexis. Wonder what took her so long to connect?"

"Nerves, probably. It IS her first time."

"God, I remember our first time, she's in for a trip."

Through the glowing doorway, a series of silhouettes came into view, resolving into cohesive figures. A shorter woman, dressed in bright flowing robes with a circlet in her stark-white hair. A hunched-over bespectacled figure with blue hair peeking out from the hood of her comfy sweater. A tall and imposing armoured woman with long red hair and piercing, angry eyes. A purple-haired woman in a dark and elegant dress. A little girl with a bow in her blonde hair, seemingly trying to hide in the shadows of the taller figures.

Looking around the area, the five of them experienced their first exposure to a shared headspace, an abstract realm constructed by the combined wills of all the minds connected to the SMI session. The immediate area was a grassy clearing surrounded by trees, with various sorts of outdoor furniture set up for socializing, but in the distance was a skyline of a futuristic city, and the sky took the form of a starry night, with a number of colourful moons and planets clearly visible - a truly alien sky. Despite the apparent night-time appearance, the area was as well lit as if it were the middle of the afternoon.

The area was bustling with activity, as well. An entire crowd of headmates, alters, facets, fictives, all mingling and conversing, some of them just getting to know one another, others conversing like long-time friends. In one area, a strange masked figure sharing a quiet moment with a wolf girl. In another, a pink catgirl engaged in conversation with a fictive of Shadow the Hedgehog. Compared to this eclectic and varied group, the arrival of five apparent humans seemed utterly mundane.

Several of the more social among the nearby figures walked towards the new arrivals, offering welcomes and introducing themselves. The robed woman immediately took point, directing all of the socializing towards herself.

"Okay! So, introductions! I'm Hope, the one in the hoodie is Jade, the angry knight is Aurora, our resident goth is Lilith, and the little one is Ailsa! That's… That's A-I-L-S-A, not the princess from Frozen."

A cacophony of 'nice to meet you's and 'thank you for existing's followed, as the gathered headmates began to socialize. Hope and Lilith took to it well, while the other three were varying levels of apprehensive about the situation.

"So… no offense, but which of you is Alexis?", asked one particularly forward alter after a little bit of conversation.

"It's… complicated.", Jade answered uncertainly. "All of us are, but at the same time none of us are. Alexis is the vessel, the framework we all fit into. In a way, she's -"

"One entity entering." The synthetic voice called out again, interrupting the socializing and causing all conversation to be replaced with confused murmuring.

"No other bodies are connecting, who's…?"

"It didn't mention a new gateway, was there an alter staying behind?"

All eyes were on the cognitive gateway as a new figure entered the area - a tall and somewhat plus-size woman with long brown hair, dressed in a dark t-shirt and a long skirt. She had a distant and disconnected look in her green eyes, as if all higher thought had fully abandoned her.

"…Alexis?", asked Lilith. "But… how are we there, when we're already -"

She was interrupted by the new arrival collapsing the moment she crossed the threshold into the shared abstract space.

There was a collective gasp from the gathered systems. Hope rushed towards the fallen figure and knelt at her side, hands already glowing with healing light, then shrieked and recoiled backwards when the body started… glitching. Chromatic aberration, bursts of static, mismatched geometry, practically every unintended visual effect under the sun began tormenting the body.

"Uhhhh that's not supposed to happen, is it??" Jade was half asking herself and half asking the rest of the alters she had been in conversation with. Several of them were already shoving in to get a closer look.

"No, dear, I don't think it is!" Lilith turned to Aurora as best she could with a panicking Ailsa clinging to her leg. "Aurora, Jade, crowd control please! Hope, you've been distinct the longest, do you know what this is??"

Aurora began moving to interpose herself between Alexis' unstable form and the onlooking crowd. "You heard her! Give us some space or I WILL start taking it!" A handful of other system protectors took the hint and maneuvered to help form a barrier between the crowd and the scene.

Jade turned back to Lilith from her place at Aurora's side. "What are you going to do, Lil??"

"I'm… I'm not sure yet! Give me a minute here!" She turned to the child still holding onto her for dear life. "Ailsa, darling, I'm going to need you to stand back, go be with Hope right now, okay?"

Ailsa nodded silently, tears of worry in her eyes, and ran to Hope's side, Hope quickly leading her away from the fallen vessel and towards the crowd of onlookers as Lilith reached out for the fallen form of Alexis.

"What's happening?", an alter asked Hope once she was past the perimeter Aurora and Jade were establishing.

"I don't know.", Hope answered. "The whole, Alexis, she's never manifested in headspace, so we weren't sure if -"

"NEVER manifested in headspace?" The alter was incredulous. "Don't you switch out?? How do you communicate??"

"Look, it's… Our system is different, the five of us pass around control, but Alexis isn't a headmate, she's a shell!" Hope looked back at the glitching body with concern and anxiety, her eyes going wide as a realization struck her. "She doesn't know how to create a cognitive appearance…" She took a step back towards the body and shouted. "Lilith, I know what's happening! She's never been in a fully abstract space before, her cognition can't handle the unlimited possibilities!"

Lilith turned and stared towards Hope. "You mean, it's sensory overload?", she asked.

"More like cognitive overload, but maybe it's the same sort of thing! Can you force a shutdown??"

"I… can try."

Lilith's hands began to twist and extend into hideous claws as a creeping darkness began to climb up the rest of her body, aging and tattering her clothing, leaving her face gaunt and pale, her eyes now emitting an eerie glow, like distant lights through fog. Kneeling down, she laid her taloned hands on the fallen and glitching body and began quietly speaking.

"Just… let go. Let go of your effort, let go of your thoughts, embrace nothingness. Come into the dark…"

"She's doing the thing, isn't she?" Aurora was very consciously averting her gaze.

Jade nodded. "She's doing the thing."

Aurora winced. "I hate when she does the thing."

By now most of the gathered headmates had fully backed off, but many were still looking at the situation with concern and apprehension. A few more had gathered around Hope, as she at least seemed to be willing to answer questions.

"…She used to be our depression." Hope was answering a worried question about what exactly Lilith was doing to the fallen Alexis. "Sometimes she still is, when her will slips. It's… terrible, but there's no cure for an overstimulated mind quite like, well… emptiness."

"Look, it's working!" Ailsa had peeked out from around Hope to see what was happening. Jade and Hope turned to look as well, and sure enough the glitching around Alexis' body was noticeably reduced, replaced by a deep, dark shadow spreading out from Lilith's claws.

"Just… STOP." There was a low, gravelly quality to Lilith's voice. "Stop THINKING. Stop TRYING. Stop EVERYTHING."

"Might be overdoing it, Lilith…", Aurora protested, her back still turned.

"Shush. I'm working."

The darkness fully covered the last of Alexis' form, and Lilith withdrew her hands. They were in fact hands now, as Lilith was quickly returning to her typical presentation.

Jade abandoned her post next to Aurora, as calm seemed to have somewhat returned to the situation, and walked up to Lilith. "So what happens now?"

Lilith took a moment to breathe. "If I did it right, her cognition will reset, and she'll settle into a form derived from her most baseline mental processes."

"…And if you didn't do it right?"

"I'm… just going to hope I did it right."

Ailsa had walked up as well, and was gently holding one of the unconscious form's shadowy hands. "So if none of us are in there… Who's she gonna be?"

Jade turned to Ailsa. "That… is a very good question. Well, uh, her higher-level thought processes are all us, so without those she's basically a collection of autonomous processes and raw instincts. You know, pain response, perception of movement, need to eat and drink, that sort of thing."

"Oh. Like an animal?", Ailsa suggested.

"Yeah, like a…" Jade's eyes went wide and she slowly turned to look at the body. It was… shifting. Changing size, shape, form, to something… different. "…Oh."

"I know that 'oh'." Lilith turned to Jade. "What did you figure out, dear?" By now Hope and Aurora had returned and were watching the scene unfold as well.

"The answer to one of the questions that we've had for a long time. We figured out we're therian ages ago, so why -"

"Why do we all still present as human…", Hope interrupted.

Whatever re-shaping seemed to be occurring had slowed, and Lilith's shadows were melting from Alexis' form as her mental presence rebooted, revealing white fur, dark grey stripes, a long tail, paws and claws, and a feline head.

"Baseline processes…", Jade repeated. "Like an animal…" She shook her head and pinched her nose with a hand. "I should have seen it, her higher thought processes, everything that defines her as a person, it's all US! WE'RE her HUMANITY!!"

Aurora winced. "And when we crossed the threshold from the airlock, we took her humanity with us."

A renewed wave of curious and confused murmuring emanated from the assorted headmates of other systems as they observed this development.

And then Alexis woke up, and climbed to her feet - her four feline digitigrade feet. Still uneasy and unsteady, she stumbled to the closest figure - Ailsa - and stared deep into her eyes.

"…This is weird…", Ailsa whispered.

Alexis suddenly let out a happy chuff and gave Ailsa an affectionate headbutt. This one was a friend. This one was nice.

Ailsa cautiously reached out a hand and scratched the giant cat behind an ear, causing her to let out another happy vocalization.

The tension of the environment seemed to evaporate some as the situation had apparently stabilized. Some of the alters watching were concerned at having witnessed such a massive change in self-visualization, others were cautiously interested in getting to interact with the giant cat. Alexis was wary at the sudden attention and let out a few growls when the interactions were a little too familiar a little too quickly, but over time she settled comfortably into the role of a big friendly tiger.

"Awwh, she's so cute like this!"

"I know her sona's always been a white tiger, but I feel a little weird about this…"

"The whole point of SMI is to let us interact as our true selves, right? …This is Alexis' true self."

Meanwhile, Hope and Aurora were off having their own conversations with other headmates and facets, and even Ailsa was managing to shyly talk to some other inner children. Jade, though, was hanging back, brow furrowed.

"You've got that look on your face." Lilith's comment shook Jade out of her concentration.

"Wh-what? What look? I don't have a look."

Lilith took position next to Jade and wrapped an arm around her in a half-hug. "You absolutely had a look, dear. Whenever you're trying to solve a complicated problem, you get The Look. We're supposed to be having fun, so what's eating at you?"

"Just… should have seen this coming, I guess."

Lilith gripped tighter and pulled Jade into a full hug. "Listen, dear. I know between your analytical mind and my intuition we're practically precognitive, but even we aren't going to see everything coming."

"I should have known…"

"And what would you have done different, had you known? What consequences would have been avoided? We had a little bit of a scare, that's all." Lilith released Jade from the hug and pointed her towards the crowd. "Now look over there."

The scene was one of mirth - headmates and alters and facets from all the systems connected to the SMI session, sounds of laughter and happy conversation, and roaming through the crowd, a large white tiger, receiving all the attention and affection and species affirmation her therian heart could desire.

Jade allowed herself a little smile. "She IS cute like that…"

"You see? It all worked out." Lilith grinned. "Now let's go hit up that snack table."

"…You know it's not actual food, right? It's just the abstract concept of food given simulated form."

"You and I are both abstract thoughtforms as well, is there even a difference for us? Now don't be a spoilsport, I'm sure there's a very lovely sense of logic or organization we can get you to socialize with. That crystalline fairy over there seems quite nice, she's from the same system as a witch I've been speaking with."

The celebration continued on, scenery shifting as each entity left their mark on the shared headspace, and all too soon, the warning sounded that the session was about to end. Fond and tearful farewells were exchanged, with promises to do this all again soon, and then, each system's respective alters and facets left for their airlock spaces, and the shared headspace was once again no more.

Moments later, in the physical world, an attending operator was helping the human body that was Alexis out of the Subconscious Mind Integration machinery. All of the other systems in attendance were able to take care of themselves for the most part, but re-integrating multiple minds into one brain was always an ordeal for a first-timer. Even with the cognitive airlock having functioned as a buffer, she found herself gagging and retching as a subconscious reaction to the onslaught of memories and emotions and sensations.

"It's okay, I've got her." One of the other systems had walked up and was helping Alexis stay steady on her feet, helping her walk to a nearby cooldown room, somewhere with dim lights, sound-proof walls, and comfortable furniture, intended to minimize sensory input for minds that were having difficulties with the re-integration process.

Still in a mild daze, Alexis found herself being walked to and sat down on a sofa, and wrapped in a blanket. Her faculties gradually returned over the course of several minutes, but she was still pale and trembling.

The other system was sitting on the sofa with her, doing their best to help her readjust and reorient. "You're going to be alright, just take it easy for a bit and focus on your breathing. The first time is always a rough one."

"Hrrrrggh…", Alexis groaned. "Still trying to process having SIX points of view crammed back into my skull… Thought I was gonna be sick when I got out of that pod. Nearly WAS…"

"Well, now you know why they tell first-timers not to eat anything for eight hours leading up to it."

"Ugh… Speaking of food, I'm pretty sure one of your alters hand-fed me a steak while we were in there." Alexis pulled up the blanket, burying her face. "Fuck that's embarrassing… Can't believe I went full cat-brained…"

"Your protector aspect also punched someone, don't forget."

"WHAT??"

"Sorry, sorry, I'm just messing with you, that didn't actually happen, but I've seen it happen in another session with a different system. We had to sit them down once we got back to realspace and have an improvised therapy session about it."

"Holy hells… What happened next?"

"A whole lot of guilt, a whole lot of repressed feelings, and a little bit of ugly-crying."

"Mmn… I think I know the feeling."

The other system reached out and placed a hand on Alexis' back comfortingly. "I'm just trying to say, there are worse things that can happen in SMI than letting yourself be cat-brained. You looked like you were having a good time, too, and none of us thought we'd ever get to give a tiger head-scritches."

"I mean, I did have a good time I guess, it's just…" Alexis sighed and closed her eyes. "I didn't realize how much of myself I'd be showing in there. It's so much more… intimate, than I was expecting."

"…Do you want to do it again?"

There was a long pause as Alexis breathed and turned her mind inward, listening for the voices of her facets:

"I had fun!" "Yeah, I had a good time too." "It was… nice, to truly exist." "What do you think, little one?" "Let's go again! Let's go again!"

Alexis opened her eyes again, calmer, with a smile on her face. "Yeah. I think we do."

"Next month, then." The other system stood up and offered a hand to help Alexis up as well. "The rest of us were going to grab dinner, once you were feeling better, and you do look a lot better. Want to come with?"

Alexis accepted the hand and got to her feet. "Yeah, that steak was really nice actually, I kind of want a real one now."

"Do you want us to hand-feed you again?"

"Pfff, you shut up."

"Hey, if we're going to keep coming to SMI together, you need to get used to being cat-brained, I'm just saying!"

"Okay, yeah, maybe, but don't forget it's all of us back in this body now!"

Sharing a laugh, they left the cooldown room for the lobby together, where all of their system friends were waiting.

---

Inspired by Intruder in the System, a short comic story by @deadeyedfae, also featuring cameos of a few systems I know personally.

#transgender #transwoman #plurality #plural system #median system #plural #fanfiction #fanfic #trans writers #queer writers #my writing #tiger therian #therian #therianthropy

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myreia · 3 months ago

Text

Sketches of Times Lost

Day 17: Sally

three times rielle has cried. rielle POV & character study. appearances by rielle's father, ystride de caulignont, sidurgu, and fray. written for ffxivwrite2024. rated: teen 2200 words. ao3 link content warning: mentions & brief descriptions of child abuse.

The girl raises the doll high in the air, her little round fingers holding it suspended by its arms on either side.

A pastel green dress, like hers. Buttons for eyes. Yarn for hair. An endlessly toothy smile.

She smiles back and giggles. The doll’s head flops to the side, staring at her with the same joy she had when she unwrapped her only moments before. But time goes quickly for a child this young, and there is a difference between then and now. Before and after.

Before, she was perched on the windowsill of her bedroom, having pulled herself up onto the place Mama forbid her to go. She knows she could get in trouble for it—already she flinches inside just thinking about it, imagining Mama’s tall shadow on the wall, the way her face twists when she yells, how cold her fingers are when she grabs her and puts her back in her place—but some days she doesn’t care. No matter how many times Mama has said the windowsill is dangerous, that she could fall and hurt herself, the girl still climbs on it when no one is looking.

There is a world outside, a world far more interesting than the wooden toy blocks on her floor or the pages of a little book of King Thordan and his knights twelve with their glittering armour and golden lances. A world of wide green fields and clear blue skies and little pink and yellow blossoms that float in the wind. Sometimes she thinks she can see dragons dancing round the mountaintops, magical and bright. She pointed to them once, and Mama batted her hand away, telling her she should not look for such things. Dragons are a omen of the evil that lurks in near their home.

But Papa doesn’t mind. He lets her look out the window all she wants. Sometimes he sits on the sill and holds her in his lap, letting her scrunch up her face and press it to the glass. He tells her stories of dragons and Elezen long ago, before there was such a thing as war. Before there was such a thing as the evil in the woods and the secret things that go bump in the night.

That’s where she was when Papa came to visit. He sat with her by the windowsill, a sad look on his face, his hands clasped behind his back. Why did he look so sad? She can’t remember the last time she heard Papa laugh, save for these small moments when he comes to visit. He’s gone most of the time. He has a duty to Halone and to House Caulignont, you see.

“Rielle,” he said. “Sweetheart. Come away from the window.”

It’s different when he says it.

She did as he asked and waited patiently, sitting on a little stool by the hearth with her hands clasped in her lap. That’s when he gave her the box. Small, simple, wrapped in brown paper. Her eyes lit up and she could not hold back her gasp. Mama has given her gifts before—a pretty dress whose hem is now ruined (her fault, she stained it with mud), a locket with flowers engraved upon it (lost in the snow when its chain broke), a book of devotional prayers (Mama doesn’t know she moves the bookmark every day)—but not like this. She tore through the wrapping eagerly and found the doll within, smiling that joyful smile up at her.

Which brings her to now. After.

The girl swings her legs back and forth as she holds the doll, taking in her beautiful hair and her beautiful eyes and her beautiful smile. A friend, perhaps—a perfect friend for a lonely girl has little else than the warmth of her father’s fairy tales and dreams, and the cold of her mother’s pious devotion.

“What are you going to call her?” Count Caulignont asks, resting his forearms against his knees as he watches his treasured daughter with a distant smile. “All little girls need names.”

“I’m not a little girl!”

He chuckles at her fierceness. “Very well, I stand corrected. Not little. But your friend there still needs a name.”

She stares up at her father with wide, shining eyes, and grins. The name comes to her immediately and she declares it loud and proud, hugging the doll tight.

There is no more windowsill to get her in trouble. No more glass to press her face against. No more mountains or clear skies or green fields or dragons.

And no more Papa.

That all disappeared after the sky bled red and the moon came tumbling down and an everlasting snow swept over Coerthas.

Some days she lies on her cot and bundles her blanket together and hugs it. She’s cold and shivering without it, goosepimples breaking out all over beneath her threadbare dress, but at least she can pretend there is someone else here with her. At least she can pretend she still has a friend.

The doll isn’t here anymore. Mama took it from her, a punishment for not reading her prayerbook. She finally saw through the trick with the bookmark after all these years, even though the girl has��read it out of want for something to do. But it doesn’t matter how many hymns to Halone she can recite or how well she can retell the tale of King Thordan and his knights, no amount of prayer can burn a heretic’s blood from her veins. Mama was so angry that day. The doll was tucked between the girl’s arms. She seized it and pulled, expecting it to come freely, but the girl could not let go.

Her friend’s head tore clean off, stuffing falling limply to the cold stone floor in puffs like snow.

The girl wailed in the aftermath, eyes shining with tears.

“Look what you’ve done, Rielle,” Mama said, her lip curling with disgust. “Don’t cry. This wouldn’t have happened if you had just given it to me. Now who’s going to put it back together? It’s ruined.”

But the girl could only cry.

And Ystride de Caulignont sighed, exhausted by her little girl, and walked away, heels treading across the doll’s ruined remains. She slammed the door behind her and left without another word, her voice later echoing down the long stairwell to the cells as she complained to a guard about the weeping child.

The remains are still here. Bits of cloth and stuffing stuck between the flagstones, unravelled yarn twisted around her bedpost, broken buttons rolled int the corners of the cell. Sometimes the rats pick away at it, stealing another bit to carry back to their nests. She’s seen it before, at night, their yellow eyes glowing in the dark when she jolts awake. They stare at her, as if surprised they are caught in the act, then squeak squeak squeak as they scutter away across the floor.

She knows what happened to her only friend.

She can only wonder what happened to her father. She understands more as she gets older, from conversations between the guards when they think she can’t hear her. Heretics and dragons and something in her blood. Something in her father’s blood. Some days she finds herself praying—not to Halone, but to whatever else is out there—that it will awaken and she will burst forth from this tower and tear it down.

Papa wouldn’t like that. He didn’t like violence, he didn’t like fighting. His face was too kind for that. He was a knight and he performed his duties well, right up until the day he never came back.

Was it the sky that killed him? That awful, awful day of the moon? Or did Ystride kill him, too? Pop his head clean off and leave him for the rats? She hates that she can imagine it so well, blood and all.

It’s the nightmare that haunts her when she’s asleep and shivering, when she should be dreaming of those pink and yellow blossoms she never got to see up close.

“Godsdammit, Fray, where do you think we’re going to get the gil for this?”

“A problem for later. This is a problem for now.”

“It’s only a problem because you’ve developed a frivolous streak. What happened to frugal living?”

“Call it living a little. Besides, frugality is something only Temple Knights care about, Sid. I never thought you’d be one to pick up their habits.”

“Bloody hells—”

Fray laughs and adjusts his helmet, striding faster down the street. Sidurgu curses again and stomps after him, his hulking form cutting a swath through the crowd. Not that there’s much of a crowd here. The village is small, nestled on the border between Coerthas and the Dravanian Forelands, far enough down the slope to escape the snows. She’s not sure if it even has a name. Fray and Sidurgu stand out among the locals, but no one pays attention to her. She fades into the background, unnoticed. She can pick the pink and yellow flowers from the terracotta planters without anyone yelling at her. Steal an apple from a vendor’s table. Nick a bracelet from a merchant.

“…say what you want, but she needs something.”

“She doesn’t need a doll, she’s too old for things like that.”

“How would you know what she needs? Have you ever been a little girl, Sidurgu? No? Thought not. You’re far too spikey for that. Besides, I have it on good authority that it’s not only little girls. Perhaps the world would be a better place if we all carried a stuffed animal or two well into our adult lives.”

She makes a face. I’m not little, she wants to say, but when do adults ever listen to her.

Sidurgu, meanwhile, grumbles under his breath and reaches around his horns to scratch the back of his neck. Strange to think that she was afraid of him at first. She had never seen an Au Ra before. But no matter what some Ishgardians think, he isn’t the one who is part dragon.

She’s not so sure about herself some days.

“…gods bloody well dammit—”

“Must you swear so much? Children have ears, you know.”

“And children are smarter than you think, Fray, little cursing won’t hurt her.” He sighs and shakes his head, passing a hand across his face. “Let’s split up. We’re getting nowhere.”

The girl watches as her guardians part ways, disappearing through the crowd, each assuming that she is following the other without checking. She would call them dunderheads if she could get away with it, but for now she errs on the side of caution. As nice as they have been—swearing and all—she doesn’t know them and they don’t know her. She’s simply a girl in a tower, imprisoned by monsters and rescued by knights.

Papa told her a fairy tale like that long ago.

For now, she perches on the edge of a bridge, swinging her feet back and forth as she watches the river rush below. The sun beats down, warming her neck, and the warm air is pleasant on her face. She clasps the bracelet around her wrist and dumps the flowers in her lap, poking through them as she takes a big bite out of the stolen apple. It’s sweet and juicy, far better than anything she has tasted in a long time.

“Rielle!”

She finishes her apple and tosses it away, watching it plunk into the rippling water.

“Rielle!”

She swings her legs and plucks at a flower, pulling it apart. She scatters the blossoms into the air and watches them soar.

“RIELLE!”

The girl startles, looking up as Sidurgu runs down the bridge, armour clanking frightfully with every step. He’s gasping by the time he reaches her, either with relief or panting for breath or both.

“Bloody hells,” he rasps. “Please say something before you disappear like that.”

She blinks and rises to her feet, brushing down the front of her dress. “I thought it was all right,” she says. “You and Fray weren’t far.”

“I know, but…” He trails off, an anxious look crossing his face. “Tell us next time. Please.”

She nods. She can do that. “What’s that behind your back?” she asks, pointing.

“I, uh…” He pauses. “It was Fray’s idea… well, mine, too. But…”

“What?”

He exhales a breath and kneels down, lowering his towering height so they can see each other eye to eye. “We thought you might like something,” he says gruffly. “A friend to keep you company on the road, wherever we might find ourselves.”

She nods again.

“I, uh… Here.” He removes the object from behind his back and presses it into her hands. Not wrapped this time. The eyes are different. The hair, too. But the smile is the same. “The woman told me its name is Sally, but I suppose you can call it whatever you like—”

The familiar name hits her like a lightning strike. With a sob, Rielle takes the doll and crushes it to her chest, hugging it as if she will never let go.

#ffxiv #ff14 #final fantasy xiv #ffxiv fanfic #ffxiv fanfiction #ffxivwrite #ffxivwrite2024 #writing tag #myreiawrites2024 #rielle de caulignont #ystride de caulignont #sidurgu orl #fray myste #drk spoilers

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lilithsterrarium · 3 months ago

Note

I've been thinking about wearing you as jewelry

Maybe dressing you in a pretty sparkly ball gown and pressing you through my stretched ear leaving you dangling by your waist

Or wearing a cock ring on a necklace and suspending you in the middle of it with string wearing nothing but a skimpy bikini

Or a pair of rings that act a little like stocks, your neck and wrists locked in the ring at the base of my finger, your ankles locked in the one at my second knuckle, every time I bend my finger you're bent at the waist exposing you to the world

Or pinned to the front of a belt buckle, arms and legs spread, a tiny sybian pressed against you, your gagged screams and moans my constant companion

Or a tiara, with you as the gem

FFNDBCJCJCX I'D LOVE THAT OH MY GOSH <3

Blushing and squirming no matter where you pit me, little whimpers as I try to cover myself up the best I can- some positions are easier, others make it impossible... on full display for you and anyone else~

I LOVE all of these, oh gosh... I adore the idea of being fawned ovet, people examining you and your pretty little jewellry while I'm whimpering and weakly trying to cover myself... on full display for all to see... barely anything to cover my most sensitive bits~

Every little movement from you shapes my whole world... MMMMPH <3

I'd love to be your jewellry <33333

#ask tag #knight in bright pink armour

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pubbybutch · 2 years ago

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Towers Built, and Towers Falling Down

Medieval AU! Knight Abby x Chubby Princess Reader (Part One)

Minors, Men and general fuckheads DNI please 💚

Content Warnings: It’s pretty much just fluff… reader is thirsty for Abby’s muscles, damsel in distress type shit. No use of Y/N and lots of cutesy nicknames.

{Yes. This is for me entirely. My chubby gay ass needs love and attention.}

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Stepping out from the door leading into your bed chambers the dim lighting of the corridor makes you blink rapidly as your eyes adjust to the darkness, the large windows on the southward facing wall of your room always let in so much natural light that the contrast between the large openness of the spaces designed for you and your ilk and those of the common folk, the staff and your lover.

The soft footfall of leather and cloth covered feet followed by the easy swishing of smooth pink and green linens are the only sounds left to fill the winding corridors and stairwells that make up the tight and narrow servant’s passageways of the stone fortress and castle you call home. Ducking around dark corners, with only the light from the slight, almost slit, like windows in the wall at the end of each corridor, you rush as much as your slipper-clad feet will allow without tripping against the long trains and skirts of the gown that fall down from your hips. Coming around the bend, the thin wooden door that leads into the library lies shut.

She should be here. But she’s not.

The minutes you wait grow longer and longer, and an anxious pit begins to form in the depths of your stomach. The black snake of nervousness twists and turns tumultuously with no rest or break to its movements in sight. That is until the door you are leaning on is pulled backwards causing you to fall back with it and into the strong chest of the blonde woman you have been waiting restlessly for.

“Abby!”

Her large hand instantly clasps over your mouth as she brings her lips next to your ear.

“Shush, easy princess.”

Her hand lowers to wrap around your waist as you turn around to look up at her, eyes wide as you take her in. You always forget how little of her massive size is armour when on the field or patrolling, wide shoulders carry large muscled arms and frame a firm hardened torso. She’s the perfect parallel to the soft curves and rolls that royal life has thus far afforded you. And Abby loves it.

“I thought you weren’t coming, that perhaps you had forgotten?”

“When you’re involved and our time together is at stake, your highness, I’d sooner be dead than forget.” Her voice exudes sarcasm, and the title sends a smile across your face knowing the nature of her and her often relentless teasing.

“Oh, hush.” The hand you hold against her chest shoves into her, but it makes no difference to her stance.

She pulls your chin up so that her lips can easily collide with yours, as you kiss she takes a tentative step backwards and into the library pulling you with her. An intricately woven tapestry depicting an ancient battle from aeons past with soldiers wielding spears and bows carrying out their assault on a large grotesque creature with many limbs is all that hangs in front of the servant’s entrance. The tapestry acts as the only thing shielding you from anyone or thing in the large tome filled room.

Large windows allow for light to flood into the room, and with the bright mornings that come as standard for the early summer, slivers of sunbeams cut through the gaps and holes that time had left in the cloth of the tapestry. Breaking away from her lips, almost immediately you miss her chapped lips and their heat against yours, but the new angle allows you to admire your love and admire what you do. The sneaking golden light of the late afternoon that pokes through those holes adds an almost ethereal glow to Abby’s sun kissed skin and freckled cheeks, the loose dirty blonde strands of her hair that have fallen out of her braid turn into a crown around her face as the sun hits it at the perfect angle. Oh how much easier this all would be if that were an actual crown adorning her head, but alas…

A smirk befalls her lips as she removes her hands from your side, and bends to fall into a deep bow

“Well, your highness, if you would be so kind as to join me by the fireplace?” Abby’s forearm is offered to you as you’re left giggling at her antics.

“Why, kind knight! I’d be honoured.”

Allowing her to lead you over the fur rug that lies on the oak wood floor in front of the seemingly ever-roaring fire, as she moves to get comfortable on the furry mat the position she ends up in can only be described as completely lounging. With her back pressed against the birch chest used to store firewood, her legs spread as she looks up at you from her seated position. “Are you planning on standing there watching me,” A hand pats the space on the rug between her thighs, “or would you rather join me?”

Instead of answering, you drop to your knees and crawl up into the gap she’d left for you. “Good choice, princess.” Your hands are captured in one of hers, large calloused fingers wrap around the little chubby knuckles and lily-soft fingers all the while her other hand moves to its favourite position on your lower stomach, rubbing against the soft flesh under the layers of rosy linen.

“I do wish that you’d call me something other than ‘princess’, you know?” you mumble into her neck.

She laughs, the chuckles causing you to jostle lightly as you lean against her chest, “I know, but even you can’t deny it’s perfectly fitting.”

Pulling away from her warmth, icy eyes meet with yours and you frown. “True that may be, but it doesn’t pardon or excuse the teasing that comes along with it, Abigail.”

As her name leaves your mouth a pout subconsciously dons your lips, her gaze flickers downwards at your lips before she pulls you back towards her giving her the opportunity to pepper kisses across your face.

“Pretty girl, you expect me to not tease you? Even when we both know all too well how preciously adorable you become after such jabs.”

“Let’s just count ourselves lucky that I haven’t fainted from your jabs, and we haven’t yet had to call upon your father and his expertise.” Your response sends her into a fit of laughter, a heavy heat comes over her cheeks and her already warmth reddened face grows even deeper with colour as she attempts to catch her breath again.

“Okay, okay, I’ll hold back on my torture, to an extent... That is, I’ll hold back if you’ll give me a kiss.”

Rolling your eyes you place a singular chaste kiss on her lips before getting up from her lap and stretching, your face scrunching up as you do so and allowing Abby to admire how cute you are, eyes closed and little creases appearing as lines across your skin. She watches contently as you wander away and into the rows of shelves lined with various books.

“Princess, where are you headed off to?” Asking even though she could hear you clearly, moving various books.

“Somewhere…”

“Do you need any help?” She could hear the confusion in your voice.

“Nope, I’ll manage.”

The crackle of the wood in the fireplace and your footsteps soon were the only sounds to fill the library and Abby sighs, you’re being a lot more self-sufficient than norm-

“Abbyyyy! Help please?”

Your whines come just as she’d anticipated.

“I’m coming, don’t worry.” As she rounds the corner she sees the cause of whining. There you are halfway up the bookcase with your arm outstretched and one leg hiked much higher than the other a couple of shelves difference between them. You had gotten yourself stuck a full four five in the air.

She grins at you and your predicament.

“Has her highness found herself in a bit of an awkward situation?”

“Abby… it’s not funny. I can’t get down and I can’t reach the book I want.”

She rolls her eyes as she wraps her arms around your upper thighs and takes your full weight onto a single shoulder causing you to squeak above her, allowing her to bend at the knees and have you hop down safely. You don’t think you’ll ever not get warm in the cheeks when you feel how her muscles strain against the soft leather and linens of her casual wear, gods only know what you’d give to see her in a tunic without sleeves or a blouse that’s so thin the curves of her biceps practically burst from the cloth concealing her skin… her soft skin and her hard muscle…

“Which one?”

Abby’s talking to you and snapping you away from your train of thought.

“Pardon?”

“Which book are you looking for?”

“Oh the new one, ‘Sir Orfeo’ I think it’s called?”

You watch as Abby scales the shelves with far greater skill and agility than you ever could and as she reaches up to the top shelf she grabs a small book, bound in a deep blue leather with engravings on the front cover.

She drops back down to the ground, book in hand. Abby holds her arm out, “Here you go.” As you reach out to take it from her, she shoots her arm up into the air withholding the book from you by at least 2 feet.

“Abby. Give me the book.”

“So demanding? What if I don’t want to give it to you, besides I am the one who was able to actually get it from the shelf. I’ll give your precious book to you when I get my reward.”

You huff an exasperated sigh. “Fine.” You reach on tiptoes to plant a kiss on her cheek. And are thus granted access to your book.

You make your way to the armchair that had, up until this point, remained neglected and although its rather grand size would’ve easily let you both sit on the chair, Abby opts to take a seat on the rug by your feet, resting her head on your thigh. Opening the book you begin to read to yourself and get a full page in before being rudely interrupted.

“I wanna hear too, baby.”

You begin again from the top of the page.

“Grief filled the air upon the death of the dear wife of the beloved bard, Sir Orfeo. His lute that normally filled the walls of the castle grew silent and abandoned as unhappiness filled his heart instead…”

Neither of you know when you had fallen asleep, Abby drooling onto your dress and hair slightly tussled and you imagine yours is much the same. The fire has been whittled down to embers and the light coming in from the windows is deeply tinted red, the setting of the sun seemingly imminent.

“Abby,” you place a hand in her hair, “you have to get up.” Your movements cause her to stir and wake, instantly she’s up and rushing to her feet and pulling you to yours. She snatched the book from the rug and places it in your hand while grabbing the free one and pulling you to stand up.

Before you can ask what she’s doing she picks you up in her arms and carries you bridal style, back past the bookshelves, behind the tapestry and through the hidden door. She’s relentless as she passes through the corridors and up the stairs leading to the servant’s door to your bed chamber. Setting you down in front of the door she tentatively opens the door and glances inside, deeming it safe enough she proceeds into the room with a hand in yours, leading you.

“Get on the bed, princess.” Still a little tired and in no mood to argue, you do as instructed. Abby’s warm hands fix the quilt and tuck you in. “If anyone asks where were you?” She kneels down to make straight on eye contact with you as she speaks.

“I was in bed, feeling a little bit sick.”

“Good. And if someone asks ‘Do you need the doctor’?”

“I shake my head, say ‘It’s not serious enough to worry the doctor, but the doctor’s daughter might be free’ and I wait for you.” You follow through with the actions as you give her the memorised spiel.

“Atta girl.” Her hand ruffles your hair, and she stands up and turns to leave through the servant’s door once more. “Abby?”

“Yes, your highness?”

“I love you.”

“I know, princess, I know.”

This is my baby, my love child. I love hearing what people think about this stuff so any comments or reblogs are fondly found. 💚

Part 2 is out and on my master list

#abby anderson x reader #abby tlou #abby x fem!reader #chubby reader #tlou x reader #medieval au

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