#she's a knight in sour armor
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mediterraneanmenace · 1 year ago
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"My knight in shining armor" he cooed, with one arm around her shoulders - Astarion could feel her muscles tense under the hard scales that plated her back. "Anything for you, my liege" Azarel replied semi-sarcastically, as their fingers intertwined. Countless were the times the vampire would lay down on the dewy morning grass, his head on the tiefling's lap as she delicately caressed his hair. Astarion would fiddle with her long tail as it wrapped itself around his body and she'd put flowers between his curls. Nevertheless, between a longing look and the other, they would deny to be more than just friends. "Love takes the wildest heart and makes it tame. I much prefer being alone"
Pining for each other wasn't in their plans, but feelings happened.
They have similar traumatic events in their pasts, but Azarel's main issue along with physical intimacy also involve severe trust issues.
She is a very romantic person but admitting (even to herself) to feel something for someone outright brings her pain.
Also, detail close up.
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iamdeltas · 2 years ago
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It has been years and yet it still tickles me that Glimmer from SPOP counts as an Unscrupulous Hero. I mean I agree, she definitely does count as one, but it's just funny considering the usual characters that get to be this trope.
For minor context, Unscrupulous Heroes are on the Edgier(TM) side of the Anti-Hero scale. It's not the Absolute Edgiest(TM) end of the scale (that honor goes to Nominal Heroes, which... kinda self-explanatory IMO) but it's only one notch less Edgy(TM) than that.
The typical go-to example of an Unscrupulous Hero is your "ends justify the (very violent and morally dubious) means" types of guys, like the Punisher. The Punisher imo is kind of the best example of this, though some depictions can make him swerve into Nominal Hero territory. Huntress and Jason Todd are pretty good examples too, though I don't read a lot of DC so I could be off-base there.
So the concept of the examples of Unscrupulous Heroes being angsty, violent vigilantes in grimdark comic books, cynical characters who do What Has To Be Done in gritty crime dramas, troubled hardboiled detectives in the film noir genre... and a pastel pink glittery princess from a reboot of a 80s toyetic cartoon? It's fucking incredible.
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futurefind · 2 months ago
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once you're stripped clean, what's at your core?
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animal intuition
loyalty is the saint you pray to. if you ever were stabbed in the back by your beloved, you'd probably apologize. to your enemies, you're fierce. to your allies, even fiercer. you cultivate a thick inner circle built on promises and devotion, fit only for the best of the best. it's impossible for most to even begin to dissect the type of person you are, owing to your unbreakable emotional walls and confusing philosophies. dream careers? body guard, movie star, unwitting pawn. don't let people get the best of that loyalty.
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spun gossamer
the easiest thing to do is stay quiet when something’s up. you’re not bothered, and you know what? you shouldn’t be! it’s none of your business, even when it’s entirely your business. it’s difficult (read: impossible) to tell if your cheery demeanor is a cover-up for something sadder, or if it’s simply your natural state of mind. you see a lot of things: people coming through town, people leaving the house and never coming back, lies and deceit of the highest degree. what happened to you? will you ever be that kid again? your presence smells like cotton candy, and your fingertips sparkle like stars. whatever white rabbit you’re chasing isn’t going to lead you to wonderland if you don’t start reaching out when you’re not feeling okay.
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acerbic wit
you're a mentor — an old scarred wolf, an injured soldier, a disgraced paladin. your teachings read as shamelessly pretentious, speaking in rhymes and biting down hard into anyone stupid enough to make the wrong move. this isn't your first life, nor your second, nor your sixth — you'll make the most of your time shackled to this world, no matter how many loops it takes to get it right. with every defeat, you reincarnate; a little smarter, a little quicker, crueler and nastier. will you choose to be brutal, equalizing, that final strike in the face of your enemies? will you go soft, become tender and domesticated? the choice is yours. it's not like i can stop you.
tagged: @deiscension, others via yoinking (its been a minute) tagging: steal it and tag me!! :3
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novaursa · 2 months ago
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Crown of Fire
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- Summary: Aegon didn't conquer Westeros because of the prophecy. He did it because of you. And it started as a child’s game. 
- Note: Events that transpired in this short story happened before The Broken Crown.
- Rating: Mature 16+
- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @alyssa-dayne @oxymakestheworldgoround @fiction-fanfic-reader @fireandblood-mharmie @poisonedsultana
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The sun was high in the sky, casting warm, golden light over the cliffs of Dragonstone. The air was filled with the sound of waves crashing against the jagged rocks below, mingling with the calls of seabirds that circled overhead. The children of House Targaryen played in the castle’s courtyard, their laughter bright and free as only youth could be. Visenya, the eldest, was a blur of silver hair and dark armor as she sparred with one of the guards, her movements fluid and fierce. At fifteen, she was already a formidable warrior, wielding Dark Sister as if the Valyrian steel blade were an extension of herself.
Aegon, at fourteen, watched her with his usual calm intensity, a faint smile on his lips. He was tall for his age, his face still carrying the soft lines of boyhood, though his violet eyes spoke of a seriousness beyond his years. Rhaenys, all of thirteen and full of boundless energy, had draped herself dramatically over the carved stone bench nearby, pretending to swoon at the sight of Visenya’s prowess.
But it was you, the youngest at ten, who caught Aegon’s gaze more often than not. You, with your bright laughter and infectious spirit, darting around the courtyard like a flame that couldn’t be contained. Your silvery hair whipped around your face as you twirled, a makeshift crown of wildflowers slipping down to rest lopsided on your brow. You had always been their little sunbeam, the one who could draw a smile even from Visenya’s stern lips and make Rhaenys’ endless schemes seem tame in comparison.
“Aegon, come play!” you called, running up to him and tugging at his sleeve. He looked down at you, a rare, soft smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as he set aside the practice sword he’d been holding.
“And what game would you have us play today, little sister?” he asked, his voice gentle in a way that he used for no one else.
You grinned, eyes sparkling with mischief. “Let’s play kings and queens!” you declared, hopping from one foot to the other. “I’ll be the queen, of course. And you all have to be my subjects.”
Rhaenys laughed, clapping her hands. “I shall be your loyal knight, Your Grace,” she said with a mock bow, her face alight with amusement.
Visenya, pausing in her training, raised an eyebrow. “And who do you imagine will be your king, then?” she asked, her tone teasing.
You pursed your lips, pretending to think deeply. “Hmm… I suppose I’ll have to marry one of the kings of Westeros.” you said, a playful glint in your eye. 
Rhaenys burst out laughing, and even Visenya cracked a smile. “Which one, little sister?” Rhaenys asked, her eyes dancing with amusement. “The fat one in the Riverlands, or the one in the North who always looks like he swallowed something sour?”
You thought for a moment, then raised your chin, mimicking the haughty tone of the court ladies you’d seen at Dragonstone. “Maybe the King of the North! They say Starks are very handsome.”
The moment the words left your mouth, you felt the air change. It was subtle, but you noticed. Aegon’s smile faltered, his eyes narrowing almost imperceptibly. You were too young to understand the depth of his feelings then, but you knew how to get a rise out of him, and his reaction made your heart beat a little faster.
“Why would you want to marry a Stark?” he asked, his voice a touch too steady. “The North is cold and bleak. You wouldn’t like it there.”
You shrugged, looking up at him with wide, innocent eyes. “But if I’m to be a queen, I must marry someone important, no?” you said, your tone light and teasing. “Unless… unless you mean to conquer the kingdoms yourself, brother. Then I would have no need to marry anyone else. I could be queen, and you could be… king.”
There was a pause, a moment where the world seemed to still around you. Aegon’s gaze locked onto yours, something fierce and unspoken flickering in his eyes. He reached out, almost unconsciously, and brushed a stray strand of hair from your face, his touch lingering.
“Maybe I will, then,” he murmured, so quietly that only you could hear. “Maybe I will conquer them all. So that you’ll never have to leave.”
You blinked, surprised by the intensity in his voice. It was a game, wasn’t it? A child’s dream, nothing more. But something in the way he looked at you made your heart flutter strangely, a feeling you didn’t yet have a name for.
“Don’t be silly, Aegon,” you said, trying to laugh it off. “You can’t conquer the whole world just for me.”
But the look he gave you then was one you would remember long after, a look that promised he would do exactly that, and more, if you asked it of him.
“I would conquer it all,” he said, his voice steady, “just to see you smile.”
You shook your head, trying to hide your blush as you spun away, your laughter echoing around the courtyard. “Then I’ll be waiting, King Aegon,” you called over your shoulder, skipping away to join Rhaenys in her dramatics.
But even as you played, your words had already taken root in Aegon’s mind, planting a seed that would one day grow into a fire that would consume the Seven Kingdoms.
He watched you, his little sister, his beloved Y/N, and knew, even then, that he would do whatever it took to keep you by his side. He would break any betrothal, defy any tradition, and, if necessary, lay waste to the entire continent, just to make sure you were his and his alone.
The game might have ended that day, but Aegon’s resolve had only begun to form. And though you couldn’t know it then, your innocent words had set in motion a chain of events that would shape the history of Westeros forever.
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Aegon I Targaryen, the first of his name, stood atop the hill, surveying the devastation below. The smell of smoke and blood hung thick in the air, mingling with the cries of the wounded and the dying. His armor, blackened and scorched, bore the marks of battle, but he felt no pain, no weariness. Only a cold, relentless purpose.
He had begun this conquest with fire and blood, and he would end it the same way.
The Seven Kingdoms had once seemed so distant, disparate lands ruled by petty kings and warlords, their power fractured and fleeting. Yet now, as he gazed across the smoking ruins of Harrenhal, the shattered stronghold of House Hoare, he felt the inevitable weight of destiny settle upon his shoulders. This was his, all of it, as he had always known it would be. And he would bind it together under one rule—his rule.
But even as he claimed victory after victory, his mind kept drifting back to a single thought, a promise made long ago in the carefree days of childhood.
You.
He had known since that day, when you had teased him with talk of kings and queens, that he would never let you go. He had watched you grow from the lively, carefree child who danced through Dragonstone’s halls, to a fierce young woman whose spirit shone brighter than any flame. You were his joy, his anchor, the one thing in this world that made him feel truly alive. And he would not let you be taken from him—not by anyone, not even by duty.
The other kings of Westeros had fallen one by one before him. The Reach and the Riverlands had bent the knee. The Ironborn were broken. Dorne remained stubbornly defiant, but they would come to heel in time. Yet the North… the North was different. Stark men were proud, unyielding. Torrhen Stark had sent word of his intent to negotiate, to discuss terms, and with it, a reminder of the betrothal promised long ago—a political arrangement meant to solidify alliances.
Aegon’s grip tightened on Blackfyre’s hilt at the thought, his knuckles white beneath the leather. Torrhen Stark, King in the North, dared to speak as if the arrangement still held weight, as if he could claim you as his own. The very idea made something fierce and possessive rise within him, a dark flame that burned hotter than dragonfire.
He remembered your face the day your father had first mentioned the match, the way you had looked at Aegon, eyes wide and uncertain, seeking his reaction. He had said nothing then, merely turned and left the hall, his silence a mask for the storm raging within him. He had known even then that he would never allow it, but he had let the betrothal stand for a time, waiting, biding his moment.
That moment was now.
Aegon closed his eyes, the din of battle fading to a distant hum as he focused inward. He saw your face, your smile, the way your eyes lit up when you spoke of dreams and adventures. He remembered the softness in your voice when you spoke of the future, how you had confided in him your fears and hopes. You were not meant to be some lord’s prize, bartered and traded for power. You were meant to rule, to stand beside him as his equal, as his queen.
His resolve hardened. The North would bend, just like the rest. Torrhen Stark would come before him, crown in hand, and he would kneel. But not as a suitor. As a subject. He would relinquish any claim he thought he had to you, or he would face the wrath of Balerion’s flames. There was no compromise, no room for negotiation.
The betrothal would be broken. You would not be sent away, not to the frozen wasteland of the North, not anywhere. You would be here, with him, where you belonged.
And then, when the last of the kings had bent the knee, when the Seven Kingdoms were his and his alone, he would turn to you. He would take your hand and look into your eyes, and you would see that this—all of this—had been for you.
He could already imagine the scene, the way you would look at him, the disbelief that would give way to understanding, to the same fierce love that burned in his own heart. You had resisted him for so long, pushing him away, keeping him at arm’s length even as you had grown closer to his sisters. He knew it was because of that broken promise, the shattered dream of freedom that he had taken from you. But he would show you that this was the only way, the only path that would ever make sense.
The thought of you—of your stubborn defiance, your laughter, the fire in your eyes—gave him strength as he turned back to his men. The conquest was not yet finished. There were still battles to be fought, crowns to be claimed, and a future to secure.
But soon, soon he would return to Dragonstone, to you. And when he did, he would take you in his arms and tell you the truth of it all. That every kingdom he had claimed, every battle he had fought, had been for you. That he would burn the world itself if it meant keeping you by his side.
He mounted Balerion with a fluid grace, feeling the great beast’s muscles coil beneath him, the heat of the dragon’s breath warming his legs through the scales of his armor. The conquest would go on, and he would crush any who stood in his way. But his heart, his mind, his very soul, were already set on the moment he would return to you, victorious.
He would place the crown upon your head, not as a gesture of power, but of devotion. He would marry you, not because of duty or tradition, but because you were his, and he was yours, bound together by a fire that could never be quenched.
And if anyone tried to take you from him—be it Stark, Lannister, or even the gods themselves—he would unleash hell upon them all. Because you were his queen, his beloved Y/N, and he would let the world burn before he let you go.
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hufflefluff-stuff · 1 year ago
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hi! i was wondering if you could write how HL characters would act when they are jealous
Yes! Also, I'll add how these characters wind up confessing to their crush! 👍
Characters: Sebastian, Garreth, Ominis, Poppy, & Leander
......
Sebastian Sallow
Let's be fr..this guy gets jealous INSANELY easily in canon, even when platonically speaking.
It's hard to pinpoint where he exactly started catching feelings for you, but he certainly fell for you fast after your adventure into the library's restricted section.
Unfortunately, because of your growing reputation as a "hero" around Hogwarts, Hogsmede, and other hamlets...you've have strangers and students alike often come up to you and interrupt your conversations with Sebastian.
They mean well, only showing up to compliment you or thank you for some favor you've done for them.
But still it puts him in an sour mood, especially if he's unable to do anything about it without coming off as a prissy Slytherin.
During classes, he feels 10x worse if he's not partnered with you and instead sees you with classmates he views as "competition"...like Garreth, Leander, or even Amit, scowling at them in envy and unable to focus unless the professor specifically calls him out on it.
The only exception is Ominis, since he's a trusted friend and damn well knew his crush on you (he has certainly used this as blackmail to stop him from doing stupid stuff) but Sebastian will still huff about how "close" you two are growing.
Sometimes his jealousy gets so bad he needs to go blow off some steam in the Undercroft, casting damage spells on whatever poor dummy, pillar, or knight armor happened to be in his way.
It's nothing that Repairo couldn't fix.
While your assistance in his quest to find a cure for Anne was extremely important to him, that's not the only reason he brings you along for the ride.
He genuinely enjoys your company, and it's his chance to actually be alone with you and talk without any rude interruptions.
Well...there's trolls, rankrok's loyalists, spiders, ashwinders, Inferi, etc....but none of them are annoying students who try to hog all your attention just to spite him.
Aside from Ominis, Anne keeps encouraging her twin brother to make some move if he's that jealous (which Sebastian repeatedly denies).
Sooner or later...he may lose that chance, and he fears this. But he never knew when the moment would come..
Then one night, you were both fighting poachers and their leader, an Animagus, insulted him so horribly that it made his confident expression drop for a moment--as did his Protego shield.
You didn't hear what she said exactly, but his devastated face told you enough and you were pissed.
So you rained down a torrent of ancient magic lightning before she can even think of transforming.
Sebastian could only watch as you smite her like some furious god unleashing your wrath on the world, finding you both badass and ethereal.
When it's all over, you rushed to his side and ask if he's okay--but he just kisses you right there and then, silencing you.
He's so sick of waiting.
Garreth Weasley
His jealousy is nowhere near as bad as Sebastian's...but it's still there. Just subtle.
He pouts a lot when somebody steals your attention away, and he tries way too hard to impress you with whatever brilliant potion concept he drafted up (and definitely didn't have approval to brew in class under any circumstances).
Speaking of which, you're his usual partner in potions class, so he'll be highly disappointed if Professor Sharp decides to pair you with somebody else that day.
Garreth feels this sting in his heart if he overhears you praising them for their perfect brew, while he stares into his bubbling cauldron and sulks, wondering what he could've done differently.
He didn't know how you truly felt about him, so he got the genius idea to cook up a love potion the day you had a substitute for class (he sat at the furthest station and had secretly gathered the ingredients beforehand).
Just as you were about to try it for yourself, he accidentally knocked an incompatible ingredient into the pot and caused its contents to explode, staining both of your robes in pink.
While everybody laughed, the sub made the stains vanish with some magic and decided to dismiss class early, making you two stay behind to clean up the mess.
Luckily only house points were deducted due to your actions, so you won't be getting detention for this.
Still...Garreth was quite upset and you could tell.
You reassure him you're not mad in the slightest, and that you knew exactly what he was trying to do (followed by a small wink before continuing your cleanup).
His face turned as red as a maxima potion, and when he returns to the Gryffindor common room for the night, he gets confused stares from his fellow housemates as they wonder what's gotten into him.
But he can't stop thinking about you.
Maybe you ingested droplets of the love potion after it exploded, since you did seem particularly flirtatious with him in that moment and knew his intentions.
Looks like he got his wish after all.
Now to ask you out properly..
Ominis Gaunt
He's not an easily jealous guy. He'll never get angry at other people for simply wanting to spend time with you or if you're partners with them in class.
You've made a name for yourself at Hogwarts, and while he doesn't always agree with the dangerous stuff you get involved with, he only expects people to look up to you and pull your attention away from him.
Though deep down, it kinda hurts...especially since quite a handful of students from other houses perceive him as someone you shouldn't be around (some Gryffindors with "holier than thou" personalities even had the guts to say you're better off without him when he's standing right there).
Being a Gaunt + a Slytherin had that effect, unfortunately...
But he's sick of hearing that all the time.
Anyone else would've snapped at whoever criticized them based on blood status or rudely interrupted a conversation they're clearly having with you.
Yet when he does it..suddenly he's the bad guy?
It never made sense.
So any jealous feelings Ominis has stem from his own insecurities, and they grow even worse the more he realizes he's in love with you..
Like Sebastian, he'd probably storm off to the Undercroft to calm down if he's feeling heavily upset.
Fortunately, you're quick to defend him and decline other people's advances, saying you'd much rather hang out with him.
When you nearly got into a wand duel/fistfight over something insulting they said about him, that's when he realizes you cared about him as more than a friend...
Though he wanted to test the waters, so to speak, before hyping himself up to confess to you.
So throughout the week, Ominis expressed subtle desires to be in closer proximity to you (which you were fine with despite being initially confused at his sudden change in behavior)
These are, but not limited to, linking arms while walking in the hallways, napping beside you while you were reading or petting a random cat, "accidentally" falling asleep on your shoulder in History of Magic, and letting you guide him through assignments in herbology and potions class so he took the correct measurements (his grades improved, which is always a plus).
It takes a little bit of encouragement from Sebastian, but by the week's end, he courts you in one of his favorite spots outside the castle, gathering flowers, candles, and everything.
You truly made him feel loved..and he was going to do his best to reciprocate that.
How he wishes he could see the looks on those Gryffindor preps' faces when they realize the "hero of Hogwarts" is his date.
Poppy Sweeting
Considering how little she spoke to other students, even ones from her own house, this Hufflepuff found it difficult to get close to you at first.
You being hailed as a "hero" made it especially challenging, as you seemed constantly busy and people were bugging you for attention/advice/help....all while Poppy was standing in the background, forcing a smile.
Of course, you always made time to help her rescue beasts. It became your passion, and she was happy about that. Your adventures together allowed you to connect on an emotional level.
The moment she knew she was in love was the night when you both observed a Mooncalf dance, trying to make sense of the pattern those sweet big-eyed creatures left behind.
No matter how many times you've seen them, their dances are spectacular--ever captivating.
But when Poppy asked for your opinion on the pattern she drew out, she stops after seeing your breathtaking smile, eyes practically sparkling in the glow of the moonlight..
And suddenly that's all she could focus on.
Suddenly that was the most beautiful thing in the world.
Since then, her jealousy around other students has increased tenfold...especially when one jerk who disrespected beasts bragged about their poacher parents and invited you to visit their camp.
You've never seen a girl Depulso another student so fast in your life, but Poppy acts like nothing ever happened.
Similar to Sebastian, her jealousy manifests in the form of glares and general scorn towards anyone trying to ask you out on a date (which you, fortunately, decline).
She 100% rambles to the beasts about you.
If Highwing and Lord of the Shore could talk, they'd tell her to just stfu and confess to you already bc the tension is killing them.
It only (finally) happens when you invite her to the Vivarium for the first time, and they both nudge you two together, not backing down until you finally kiss.
If any of yall know that scene in Pokémon Scarlet/Violet where the box legendary pushes Arven towards his friends...that's this exact situation.
Leander Prewett
There's not doubt that this Gryffindor was going to grow jealous of your rising popularity in Summoner's Court and Crossed Wands.
He's a sore loser, while you have generally good sportsmanship..but he secretly appreciates you encouraging him to keep practicing. He only keeps going because of your words alone.
Outside of classes and competitions, he tries to hang out with you but oftentimes your attention goes to other people--whether it's professors keeping you after class to go over extra assignments or a friend sending you an owl with an urgent request.
You don't mean to keep ditching him, but to him it feels like you're always "too busy" for him.
Leander just scowls at the owls while they stare back at him like "hey, don't shoot the messenger".
Yet even when you do manage to spend time together, he only ever asks about your recent escapades....and then refuses to believe them despite you explaining them in great detail.
To this day, he still isn't convinced you possess ancient magic.
But the truth is that he wants to believe you. He admires your bravery and is insanely in love with that aspect of you....though he doesn't know how to express that.
He wishes he can relate and have cool stories to tell, but when people bring up his name they only ever talk about his constant failures.
He doesn't feel any better when others rush to defend your acts of heroism, thinking he's being a jerk.
The truth is you actually loved him and his company despite your frequent banter, but believed him to be way out of your league.
At least until the day Professor Kogawa assigned you to help him after flying class, citing the lack of respect he's been showing to his broom and your good influence on classmates.
He saw this as his chance to impress you...and failed miserably as he was unable to focus and snapped at his broom in frustration, causing it to whack him in the face just as a group of Slytherins passed by.
They laughed and teased him relentlessly, but after scaring them off with a chomping cabbage...you realized Leander had disappeared.
But he didn't go far as you discover him sulking near the lake, hiding himself with the Disillusionment charm (which you cancelled with Revelio).
It's there he finally talks about his true feelings towards you, and you see a more vulnerable side to the typically uptight Gryffindor.
In the end, you decide to give him a chance.
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cutieeva · 2 months ago
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Worth of a terror
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Female reader
Warnings : Murder. Deaths. Attempt of sexual assaults.
𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒
Married to the man one loves is magical even fairytale however if the man turns out to be a obsessed King is it really alright ? Or it is because there's much more truth in it.
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Words spread ear to ear to nation to another nations of how in the country of Imperia the ruler is obsessed with his wife, the most wisest woman to be known (Y/N).
It is said that at the first sight princess (Y/N) of neighboring kingdom of Tharagon saw the soon to be King one day and fell fast and hard. Deciding he will be the one to hold her hand and lift her white veil of marriage so she begged her father who succumbed to his daughter's wishes arranged an meeting between the pair, a pair brought by the deities themselves because the moment the prince saw once glimpse of her visages cerulean pupils transform into heart and boldly bowed his knee to have her hand for eternal, soon the vows of love were exchange as well as the bloodshed didn't remain in the battlefield rather inside the walls of royalty too after the love climb into of akin madness, obsession and desire because the prince wore the crown and sat at the throne of his country ruled with benevolent smile yet iron fist for those who glance little to his wife. The fairytale love story commoners love begin to sour a lesson of the reasons why not to marry elites.
The new maid of the castle heard the passing whispers, tales and rumors time to time, none escaped her even when in front it's spoken loudly at all times the moment the royals are out sight by blue ribbon maids yet she notice one bit of how no golden ribbon maids gossip at all rather their lips are seal with sectary oh— golden maid are known for the private maids who serve the royals directly and handle their schedule and the reason of their name is for the noticeable difference between the hair bow color, the colors are important in the castle to identify one's position and the golden are the supreme and the new maids are the whites— oddly to define their purity and naïvity too, one older female maid with blue ribbon commented. Blue applys for the upper level after blooming their training.
In passing few times of sewing clothes and watering gardens did she caught glances of the wise queen she come to admire even respect deeply after an occurrence she would to this day have shivers in her spine. At dinner she was hosted to be one of the many maids to serve the royalty and when she went to gracefully fill the red wine like blood to the queen's glass god forbid again her weight on her hand slipped pouring few drops on the luxurious white dress. Paled her face was and fast her heart with darting eyes to the furious king who stood from his seat, marching to his wife with burning her though his glare to (Y/N) who rather of getting mad, yelling harshly and posing punishment worse, a laugh fell out of her rudy hue lips.
"Fear not. We are all prone to error, and from those mistakes, we shall glean valuable wisdom. Be at peace". Smiling ear to ear, her fingers touch the maid's white ribbon and gifted another comforting pat before wrapping a hand around her dear husband. Calming the beast that threat to spill out the maid could see and tremble her heart out.
"Compose yourself, my dear husband. Do not let your passions get the better of you, lest you succumb to apoplexy. She is but a mere child, prone to errors and innocent of malice." Wittly (Y/N) spin her wrist around for the servant to whisk away and she did excusing the pair where from the closed doors she could hear the muffled passionate kisses. Tips of ear burned when body flinched meeting the royal knight's gaze who stood blending in the shadows, he is known to be the queen's shining armor and the man the King failed to assassinate multiple times due to his skill experience and queen's help. The reason behind murdering the man is of jealous of course, no man alive should be closer to her heart then the king himself. What a hassel the maid believes running out ever grateful for the madam's kindness.
That at any command or meeting upon sights of queen never does she forget to get on both knees for the kind woman deserve all respect and it only increase when she was appointed from white ribbon to blue— one step closer to see more of her elder sister figure, every dress the queen wore becomes the maid's favorite too, never forgets to sing songs of praises with other blue ribbon maids who too tune to her child like nature unlike the golden ones whom seems to be as tight lips she recalls. Never forgets to mask a smell of expression nor word like perfect dolls they work with sealed lips.
Also there is another person who comes to see the queen more is the ruler and as the rumors believes he is a very much touchful person, never his hands left her body whether in public or behind closed doors as he boldly even kisses her startling the poor maid's heart yet a beyond level of understanding is come from her when each time the queen smile into the kiss and any touch and attention, never shy away however also not returning the same enthusiasm making pity stem in the maid's heart seeing the queen being a beauty to the beast for him to be a proper prince in this case the king.
"The royal family of neighboring kingdom is coming to Imperia nation". Is a pure chaos, the notice was late and the servants were barely able to match the rhythm of orders properly unlike each time. The dinner, the decoration everything expected to be perfect. Not a single mishap panicking the attendants even more.
Thankfully it was arrange hasty and beautifully. "Perfect". The queen utter, her chest swell in pride when her husband entered with all the servants bowing with their eyes on the floor. His arms find on her body along lips on her bare skin of side nape.
"Perfect indeed". His eyes half lidded, only for his utter heavenly wife.
"Not me, my dearest. The castle". Mellow chuckle escape her lips. Meeting his eyes.
"Still the most beautiful I can see is you". Truly (Y/N) sometimes believes her love of life could had been better off as an poet than an king. As a hopeless romantic is sweet it's quite endangering she is afraid.
"Thank you, love". Gratitude fill her heart with butterflies in her stomach. Staring right at the infuriating reflection of herself in his eyes just like the first time is nostalgic.
"Your Majesties, the carriages are few feets away". The royal adviser reminded the pair and intruded their session.
"Indeed I know". Frown brows cast his face, marred with annoyance the queen finds endearing. Her finger pads gently ease the wrinkled skin and brows even pressing as gentle as feather a kiss. Stealing his breath and heart altogether.
"It's alright, love. Better for the kingdom". Smile wide so much it crinkles her corners of eyes. "The more the merrier isn't it ?" She jested pulling a smile out of the stoic man, feared even.
"However, my queen, you are well aware that the neighboring kingdom is not particularly indispensable to our affairs?" King Vincent uttered, caressing strands of her hair.
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"I do". Press a hand on his shoulder she left to prepare for their welcoming and it was easy would be a blunt lie by the palpable tension is visible to any naked eye.
The neighboring king is not what a proper nobleman should be behaving more like a scoundrel with Queen (Y/N), kissing her hand more than needed, staring more than appropriate and not shy away to brush touches and the servants quiver from the dreadful consequences of such actions because each could see the twitch in the king's eyes and the beast hidden too well inside those smile.
And the tension only stretched more at the supper when the daughter of the neighboring king urged to be sit next to King Vincent wantonly seduce the married man by brushing skins and serving dishes. Such a wretched and filthy woman the maid curse freely in her mind. How dare his daughter without blinking an eye snatch the husband of the woman her father is so desperately steal virtue of ? Such women are shame to be grown out from mother's womb the maid thought, glancing in awe how no hint of outbust is seen from (Y/N), she even tender with the maiden she doesn't deserve to get all while handling the aged man's greedy hands.
Truly a woman worth to love and respect and the maid is out of words to describe. Gratefully the supper came to an end and the pair of King and his daughter went to spend their night in their castle for tomorrow's farewell.
The moon hanged exquisitely among the stars covet by the darkness the maid stare from her window when a sudden thirst come to her. Sitting up in her bed her fingers went to the jar only to feel lighter—empty she realize. Groaning she held a lamplight in one hand and went to wonder for the kitchen, her steps precise and careful to reach the lengthy walls to the kitchen and at last drench the thrist she wake from her slumber.
Chop ! Her nerves freeze. Chop ! Blood drain from her veins. CHOP ! Shudder her body to the core. The sounds are clearly of slicing something— or someone. Despite the warnings in her brain advising to ran away her feet drag her to the creator of the noises, solely relying on the noises her eyes blind in darkness went near the open door with golden light peeking though. Prying eyes meet sorrow's sight. A saying she knows yet not heed.
Chop ! Her eyes flinch close before opening to peek and met a sight that shatter her entire faith, beliefs and trust.
Chop ! Because in front is the body of neighboring princess laying on the ground, her widen eyes stare directly to the maid's that lost the life in it, blood bled endlessly like spilled juices out from her cut— chopped parts. The sliver sword soaked in crimson color and smell drip little by little held by the culprit of her murder. Queen (Y/N) herself, the same woman who utters gentle words, sweet voice, pretty smiles. A beauty to her husband chop and dice and slice the parts of the woman like an carcass of pig. Droplets of blood scattered across her face, dress and hand.
Near is the neighboring king's body only sliced throat once. (Y/N) bore special hatred for the daughter to still torture her.
Footsteps towards the otherside sucked the maid's pulse, still her eyes watched as the owner revealed to be none other than King Vincent. A helpless sigh and defeated look carved out of him. "(Y/N), my losana what have you done this time ?"
"Oh, my love, I fear you are correct regarding their unnecessary pursuit of power to foster our nation's growth. Alas, I have taken drastic measures and eradicated the impurities." A feverish blush paint her majesty's face as she gaze at her husband. Grinning like a mischief goddess.
And without sparing glance her sword stab the daughter's detached head to stick before walking to Vincent. "You know I love you ? Hence I had to do this. She was a whore who should not live". Slight shiver hands cup his chin, connecting their foreheads. "You know you are mine and mine only ?"
"Indeed I do". Feebly lift his lips to smile and lean more. What could he do, she is a woman who loves fast and hard.
Suddenly her (E/C) eyes slide to the maid's direction who buried her head behind the wall with palm tight clasped on her lips even forbid breathing in fear of getting caught. Her chest up and fell and pupils changing. Because missed dots came connecting all round.
The real obsessed one was nd is not the king. It was the queen (Y/N) all along.
The missing and murders people were her fault, the queen kill them in rush of envy and jealous of rivalry. The rumors were reversed and the reason the golden ribbon servants seal their lips because they had been the ones cleaning the mess of her majesty, they were unspoken witness to the madness of her obsession not his.
She was always jealous thus the murder was commented. She was simply good at hiding, behind that naïve smile. Same one the maid was bestowed. No wonder the king is tamed.
Quickly hers feets disspeared to the darkness to her quarter to not be discovered and be beheaded or worse fate.
The next rise of sun came faster than she wanted and she had to do her duty with empty mind is difficult with too many mistakes. When she notice the lines of servants behind the queen is appearing. The images invaded her thoughts again, gripping her in fear. Her knees bowed on her own.
The smell of lavender suffocated her and the sight of the queen's grown came to view. She could feel her leaning closer, closer and closer until her lips were near her ear. "Remember to have water on your jar before the bed". She knows. She knows. She knows.
With that her heels turn to see her husband. A husband who should have been a poet not a leader as he was not a man of bloodshed. How twist of fate.
A strangled grasp left the maid's lips meeting the back of the queen and her close knight. She is truly a worth of a terror.
FIN
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Notice : ⌜ I will soon focus and complete the lost series ⌟
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writing-intheundercroft · 3 months ago
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Ser Freckles // S. Sallow
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Rating: T
WC: 2,743
Summary: As heir to the throne, the princess takes appointing her sworn protector very seriously.
A/N: Submitted as part of a writing challenge because I'm a glutton for starting AU projects. inspired heavily by HOTD (I've been looking for an excuse to use the name Gawayne). Much love to the pals who keep Knight!Seb living in my brain <3
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“Now that you are of age, and officially the heir to the throne, it’s time you appoint your first sworn sword.”
She looked up to Fig as they walked down the stone stairs, the excited chatter from the courtyard echoing off the walls.  Fig had been her tutor all her life, and only now did she realize her lessons with him had a greater purpose.  She was the only daughter of the king’s dearly departed brother, a king who lacked any heirs of his own.  And now that she’d turned eighteen, with no hopes for a male cousin in sight, she had been formally invested as the heir apparent.
Fig was no lowly court tutor, she realized. He’d been placed with her from her youth, preparing her for what had seemed like a distant possibility that she might one day become queen. Lord Eleazar Fig, a member of the King’s Counsel, had been priming her to take power all along.
”I’m not sure why I can’t keep Lady Singer,” she mumbled, kicking her skirts as they continued their descent. “She’s been my guardian for as long as I can remember.”
”Lady Singer is a governess,” Fig reminded her. “And in no way capable of being your sworn protector.  The young man you choose today will become a knight, sworn to your king's guard.  Can you remind me what the function of your king's guard is?”
”My queen’s guard,” she snipped, emphasizing the word, “will protect my counsel and me from harm, as well as my future heirs.”
“Precisely, Princess.” Fig smiled. “It’s largely a symbolic role considering the relative peace our realm has seen this past one hundred years, even more so with the city watch taking guard of the castle.  But the king—er, queen’s guard is a deep rooted tradition each house takes very seriously.  The gentlemen we’ve assembled today for your selection come from some of the great houses of the realm.  Others have been lauded for their bravery and skill in the battlefield.”
The princess and Lord Fig walked to the balcony, the crowd below falling into silence. There were six men (boys, she observed, especially considering she’d grown up with four of them around court) standing in the courtyard below.  They all wore gleaming armor, save for the last, wearing a dull set without embellishments.  Each had a pennant with their house sigil, members of their families standing behind them. The animals on each pennant were embroidered with gleaming metallic thread–lions, eagles, badgers, and snakes taking center, representing the great houses each family bowed to. 
Lord Fig took her hand, helping her stand on a stool to catch a better glimpse of her future knight.
”The first proposed candidate is Ser Leander Prewett,” Fig stated loudly. “Ser Leander is the second son of Lord Lyonel Prewett.  He is a fine duelist, trained by one of the land’s most notable swordsmen.”
She cocked her brow, observing the redhead below.  Tall, lithe, with a glorious mane of red hair.
”And rather shit on a horse,” she muttered under her breath. “Did you see him in the last tourney?”
”Horsemanship is not a requirement of a knight, Princess.” Fig muttered.
”He truly had no idea if he was facing the front, or the back.” She joked. 
Lord Fig concealed his laugh in a cough. He waved his arm, and Leander’s gleaming smile vanished into a rather sour expression as the next option stepped forward.
”Ser Garreth Weasley,” Fig announced. “The third son of Lord Gwayne Weasley.”
”I know Ser Garreth well,” she smiled demurely. “Is it not one of the oaths as my queen’s guard to take no wife, have no children, and to be sworn to uphold the duties of the crown until death or dismissal?”
”It is, Princess.”
She clicked her tongue. “I know very well my dear friend Lady Natsai would be quite upset if I took her beloved to my service.  I’d rather see the two of them happily married than split apart by duty.” She waved him backwards, knowing Natty would be pleased.  Garreth stepped back, cheeks red, but a relieved look on his face.
“The next option is Ser Amit Thakkar,” Fig looked down at his notes. “Son of the Dowager Lady Tara Thakkar. No notable tourney experience, he’s been—“
”Away for his studies in the new world,” the princess interjected. “I know Ser Amit quite well. Tell me, Ser, how was your research on the skies?  Anything new to report?”
“I’ve identified at least twelve constellations once lost to our maesters,” Amit announced excitedly. “And I do look forward to finding more.”
She tilted her head to Fig, eyebrows raised. “I do believe Ser Amit’s talents are better used with the college of maesters, rather than as a member of my queen’s guard.”
”Moving on,” Fig tutted. “Ser Duncan Hobhouse, son of—“
”No.”
”Okay, on to the next.” Fig winced, letting the young Duncan Hobhouse step back with a sigh. “Next is Ser Isaac Cooper. Son of Ser Tristan Cooper, the Lord Commander of the city watch.  Strong, steady, and good with a lance.  Ser Isaac has topped the tourney lists, specifically winning the tourney of Aranshire this past spring. ”
The princess chewed her lower lip as she appraised Ser Isaac.  He stood tall, black hair cropped closely to his head. His parents stood behind him proudly bearing the badger on their sigil.  Isaac gave her a beaming smile, followed by a rather obvious wink.
“I look forward to serving you, my princess, in all ways you see fit.” Isaac said loudly, followed by a showy bow. A gaggle of young ladies on the upper balcony giggled audibly, Ser Isaac blowing a kiss to his admirers.
The princess gagged, wrinkling her nose as she turned back to her tutor. 
”A tourney knight,” she huffed. “Tell me, Lord Fig, do any of these knights have real combat experience?”
Fig sighed deeply, beckoning forward the sixth option.  It was the knight in plain armor; unlike the others, he did not have a large gathering of family members behind him.  A thin, peaky girl stood by his side, wobbling on her feet as their sigil shook in her hands. The green velvet of the flag looked worn, but a silver snake had been embroidered into the fabric with metallic thread, red beads for eyes.  Behind them was a stern looking man, beard peppered with silver hairs.  
The boy paid them no attention, standing forward with his head bowed to her. 
“Ser Sebastian Sallow,” Fig cleared his throat. “The nephew of Ser Solomon Sallow, a former knight of the city watch.  He was dismissed from his post after the death of his brother, taking on the stewardship of his young niece and nephew.  Ser Solomon and his nephew Sebastian have taken the responsibility of patrolling the lower highlands, protecting their hamlets from ashwinders and poachers.”
She leaned forward over the railing, interest piqued by the humble knight below. “Tell me, Ser Sebastian, of your experience fighting against the ashwinder rebellion.”
He lifted his head, big brown eyes framed by an explosion of freckles. He had a round, boyish face for eighteen, thick brown hair descending in waves. A blush took over his cheeks as he dipped his head once more.
”I have fought against the ashwinders for the past five years, Princess.  For as long as my uncle has allowed me.” He said, tipping his head back towards the stern man. “The lower hamlets rarely see reinforcements from the city watch, so it is up to the residents themselves to gather arms.”
“And when did you become a knight, Ser Sebastian?”
Sebastian turned briefly to look at his uncle, who merely nodded. “The Lord Commander of the city watch was passing through our hamlet when he witnessed me apprehending a cohort of ashwinder assassins.” He adjusted his grip on the helmet in his hands, metal clanking as he shifted.  Unlike the others, there were no grand decorations, no feathery plumes attached to the helmet.  It was practical, well-worn steel that had seen battle many times before. “He knighted me on the field, after the battle.”
”One boy against twenty ashwinders,” Fig whispered in her ear. “Quite a feat.”
She braced her palms against the stone ledge, hair falling over her shoulders. He looked up at her intently now, eyes wide.  even with his armor on, she could see his throat bobbing, swallowing down his nerves.  
“That settles it for me. I choose Ser Sebastian Sallow.” 
The hall descended into loud whispers; the girl holding his sigil gasped with delight, while the man behind her dropped his mouth open in shock.  Sebastian knelt, but kept his gaze fixated upon her.  It was as if the chocolate brown orbs were burning into her, somewhere between admiration and curiosity. 
Fig gave her a knowing look. “Ser Sebastian it is.”
”I’ll leave the details to Ser Sebastian’s investiture to you, Lord Fig.” the princess said, stepping down from the stool. Her heels clattered against the floor, hands folded behind her back. “And measure him for new armor.  Something befitting my sworn protector.”
”The customary armor, of course, with your sigil on the pauldron.” Fig noted.
She paused, turning one last time towards her counsel.
”Don’t forget his snakes.” She reminded him. “Silver with ruby eyes.”
Fig tried to conceal his smile. “Yes, princess.”
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“You know we’re not allowed in the armory,” Poppy hissed, trying to tug on her skirt. “Lady Singer–”
“Lady Singer can kiss my arse,” the princess declared, enjoying the way her lady in waiting’s cheeks flushed. “I would like to supervise the fitting.  Will you join me?”
“I think not,” Poppy lifted her nose. “I’ll be off to the library to meet with Imelda.  You should stay out of trouble.” the brunette warned.
The princess pulled open the heavy door of the armory, grinning at her friend. “Trouble is my middle name,” she sang, waving goodbye as she entered the room.  The normally bustling armory was quiet at midday, with most of the knights standing guard.  She stepped past the rows of white cloaks, all hung under their corresponding owner’s name.  Weapons were stacked against the wall on wooden racks; she wouldn’t dare go near the spears, swords, and morningstars for fear of tipping them over.  Her slippers pattered against the flagstone floors as she walked deeper into the chamber in search of her new knight.
“There you are,” she declared, seeing him standing on the pedestal. Ser Sebastian Sallow stood in his freshly tailored white breeches and shirt, half dressed in his new gilded armor.
“Princess,” the armorer bowed his head quickly, stepping away from Sebastian. “I did not realize you were coming in to supervise the fitting.”
“Is it not tradition?” she asked, circling the pedestal with an approving nod.
“It is,” the armor rubbed his hands together anxiously. “For the king.  But you are a young lady, it’s hardly appropriate for you to be in the armory with a knight in a state of undress–”
“Ser Sebastian is my choice,” she pointed out. “So I will supervise the fitting of his armor and his sword selection, just as my uncle did for his sworn swords.”
“As you wish, princess.” The armor nodded. “I’ll fetch his sword at once.”  He bowed, walking backwards out of the room.
“Are you always so commanding?” Ser Sebastian asked, a hand on his hip.
“Only when they’re so formal.” she grinned, crossing her arms. “The armor looks good on you.”
Sebastian’s cheeks flushed. “Thank you.” he stammered. “And thank you for honoring my house.” he gestured to his pauldron, decorated with the Sallow family sigil. Instead of the crudely carved 
The armorer returned, holding a glimmering sword with a checked handle. “His sword, your grace.” he handed it to her for inspection. “I shall return shortly with his cloak; the seamstress was just finishing the hem.” He backed out of the room once more, leaving the pair alone.
The princess bobbed her head as she held the sword in her hand, testing its weight. “Good balance,” she mused, tossing it from one hand to the other.
“You’re trained with a sword?” Sebastian asked, eyebrow cocked.
She gave him a toothy grin, swinging the sword from side to side. “My uncle thought it best that I was taught the same as any other prince of the realm.” 
“I certainly agree,” Sebastian offered. “I trained my sister as best as I could before coming to the capitol.”
“Well then, should we practice for your investiture?” She asked. “On your knees, then.”
Sebastian sank to the floor, beaming up at her obediently.  He tipped his chin upwards, right hand resting over his heart. 
“Do you swear to uphold the code of the kingsguard?” she asked, trying her best to remember the vows Lord Fig had tasked her with memorizing.
“I do,” Sebastian echoed.
“Do you swear to guard the king with all your might, and give your blood for him and his heirs?” She recited the words slowly and thoughtfully.  The sword was beginning to feel heavy in her hands, but Sebastian didn’t budge.  He stayed, knelt below her on the ground, closed fist bound to his chest.
“I do.”
“Do you swear to take no wife, father no children, hold no lands? Do you swear to guard your king’s secrets, obey his commands, defend his name and honor?”
The princess blinked down at her chosen knight, hovering the blade over his shoulder. His big, brown eyes stared back at her, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.  She hadn’t noticed the freckles on his lips; then again, she’d never been so close to him before.  He looked both like a knight and a boy all at once–his armor was unfinished, missing the pauldron on his left shoulder that would bear her sigil.  Sebastian’s messy hair stuck up in the back, and the princess felt the strong urge to pat it down.
She instead remained steady, blade in hand.
“Do you swear, Ser Sebastian?” she asked.
“I swear to take no wife, father no children, nor hold any lands.  I swear to guard my queen’s secrets, obey her commands, defend her name and honor. For as long as I breathe, my life is my queen’s.” Sebastian gave her a coy look, eyes glittering with mischief; he aimed to flatter her, charming the princess with his change in verbiage.
Two could play that game, she thought. The princess lifted her sword, tapping it on both of his shoulders.  “By the grace of the future queen, I name you Ser Kiss Arse.” she declared dramatically.
Sebastian choked, and the princess laughed.  Her whole body shook with her giggles, and Sebastian pouted. 
“No fair,” he complained. “Pick a better name.”
“Fine,” she wiped a tear from her eye. Feigning composure, she straightened her posture and gave him her best queenly glare. “By the grace of the future queen, I name you Ser Freckles.”
“You’re making a mockery of it,” Sebastian whined.
“We’re practicing, remember?” She snorted. “I promise, I’ll be much more official during the actual ceremony.”
Sebastian huffed. “Fine then.  But if I get a nickname, then you get one too.” he warned. “Princess Picky is what I’ll call you.”
The princess scoffed, backing away. “Who called me picky?”
Sebastian gave her a sheepish look, rubbing the back of his neck. “Everyone at court, actually. They thought you were too picky with your requirements of the kingsguard.  The public is fairly certain you’re making a mistake in picking me as your sworn sword.” his smile faltered, a wave of doubt crashing over his face. “My family has no riches, no influence at court.  I have nothing else to offer you.”
The princess chewed her lower lip, dragging the sword behind her as she leaned down to face her knight. “It is no mistake,” she murmured, pressing a hand to his shoulder. “You are the most deserving of the title.  I chose you. And if that makes me picky, so be it.”
Sebastian touched her wrist; the gesture shocked her, eyelashes fluttering from the surprise embrace.  But she did not move her hand–the princess kept it on his uncovered shoulder, her hair falling in her face as she looked down at her sworn protector.
“Princess Picky and Ser Freckles,” Sebastian joked. “An eclectic pair.”
She gave him an earnest smile. “I’d have it no other way.”
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358jours · 2 years ago
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Yanqing x GN!Reader⎢But I’m so ‘eepy
Word Count⎢1300
Genre/Tags⎢SFW, fluff, Reader is a big introvert and is sleep deprived, shopping dates, PDA, written and posted before game launch⎢Crossposted on AO3
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You stifle another yawn as Yanqing drags you around. You’re holding hands, fingers laced together. He walks ahead of you, loud joy in his steps. He’s almost always sporting a smile in public, but the happiness radiating off of him right now is something else. He forced you out of your room today, and though you love his presence, your social battery can only last so long. At this point, you’re practically dead weight he’s carrying on his own.
Yanqing is an energetic young man, extroverted, optimistic, though perhaps a bit naive. He enjoys anything that has to do with swords the most such as taking care of them, training, competitions. He’s also a big spender on his hobbies, always ending up begging his father –or even you– to finance his basic needs. Many people are aware of who he is due to all that, and also the fact he’s the lieutenant. 
You are the opposite. An introverted soul, sleep deprived, fond of staying inside. You tend to stay up far too late into the night, kept up by good video games, and bad decisions. “I can still play, like, fifteen minutes more”, cue three am beeping on your alarm clock after hours passed unnoticed. You could count on one hand those aware of who you are too. First General Jing Yuan, the leader of the Luofu himself, then an unnamed accountant, whose existence only matters for a single reason (your pay), and Yanqing himself. Perhaps Marshal Hua might count as well as she knows about everything, but you never met her personally. 
Yanqing is the only person able to drag you out of your room for more than an hour, and the only person able to drag you out outside at all. Perhaps ‘drag you out’ is too strong a word as you always consent to going out with him, but your mood is a bit sour from your dead social battery and the fatigue in your body. As far as you’re aware, everyone on the Luofu market street has dubbed you “Yanqing’s sleepy partner” (You can’t really blame them, it would be quite awkward to ask “so what’s your name?” while your self-proclaimed knight in shining armor is right by your side). You have a very “cat and dog” personality contrast that makes people laugh, opposites attract or so they say. 
.
Yanqing pulls you forward amidst the crowd. “Finally, we’ve arrived at the Artisanship Commission!”
You take a moment to take in the sight. The sun is high, barely two in the afternoon, and illuminates the red city radiantly, this shop as well. The view is beautiful, yes, but honestly your mind is so jaded, it’s hard to grasp reality. Hopefully this is the last stop for today, Aeons know you won’t survive if you don’t get your afternoon nap. You hear Yanqing's voice and– oh he’s talking to a vendor, nevermind. They seem to know each other, by the way they laugh at least. 
You look over to the swords on display. They’re all impressive, a vast range of different colors and sizes. The one you like best is mainly clear blue and has a yin-yang on its guard, it looks pretty though perhaps a bit heavy for Yanqing? The second one is thinner, it’s mainly black with white and blue accents. It would look good in his hands. The one beside it is ew full-gold yellow, and though the color is less than attractive, the details forged on it are stunning. 
You don’t notice the vendor handing Yanqing a sword. He lifts the hand you’re holding, and looks at you curiously. You let go sheepishly to which he only smiles. The vendor giggles. Ah, embarrassing. 
You space out once more while Yanqing listens with grand attention to the explanations about the ki-controlled attacks the sword can perform. You’re kind of staring at him as he tests the sword through different movements, touching the blade with the tip of his finger. It looks alright, but the swords on display are prettier. He hands it back, the vendor leaves for a moment, and comes back with another. The same happens, and again, and again, and you feel your legs more and more. Trying not to yawn becomes harder and harder.
Your interest is peaked when the vendor brings him the sword with the yin-yang guard. They talk about the features again, he moves it a bit. He hums, does bigger movements, it seems he likes this one too. You rest your head against his shoulder “I like this one.” 
He shifts his head slightly. “Really?” 
“Yeah. It’s pretty and it goes well with your outfit. You should take a dark gray scabbard to go with it.” 
Yanqing hums. He looks at the sword one last time before handing it back. “Alright, I’ll take two, and two dark gray scabbards.” 
The vendor looks very surprised, but happily obliges. They shuffle, occupied in preparing his purchases. Your partner sports a smile on his face, his happiness showing through his proud stance. You don’t fight your yawn this time, and close your eyes. You open them soon after at the sound of a pathetic whine and your name however. Yanqing’s face is contorted in dread. You’re a bit confused about what is wrong, your mind foggy— oh. 
.
His wallet is completely empty. 
You laugh loudly, which makes him even more embarrassed. “Hey, come on! How am I supposed to pay now? And I already said I was taking it home too…” But it only worsens your fit. You grip onto his arm to not fall. The vendor comes back, and Yanqing hastily hides the hollow pouch. He looks at the vendor worriedly as you continue laughing against him. 
“You two are adorable together. Mind repeating your joke?” The vendor smiles at you both. 
“Yeah, thank you. Uh.” Yanqing let out an embarrassed laugh as he scratched the back of his neck. 
You recover enough to hand your credit card to the vendor. “He forgot his money at home.” Yanqing stutters as the vendor snorts. You’re handed back your card, and your partner receives his new swords. He carries them with his left arm while his right hand is occupied, as he refuses not to hold hands with you whenever you are out. 
You walk together for a bit, saying nothing. He’s not dragging you everywhere like before anymore, thankfully. The sun is still high, but at least forty minutes have passed, if not more. Yanqing is the first to break the silence, “You should name it, the sword. But it’s important so you should think deeply about it, yeah?” 
You hum, your mind occupied by other priorities. You pull him in a direction. “Nap time.” 
“What?!” He’s taken aback, clearly confused and in shock. “No way I’ll let you name it that!”
You pull him again and— push him to sit on a bench? He’s still lost, looking at you for clarification. He’s by the far side while you go sit in the middle. He’s about to ask more when you suddenly lay down. Your head goes to rest on his lap. “Nap time, wake me up in one hour or if it starts raining.” 
Yanqing opens his mouth and closes it, still confused although now flustered. “Really? Right here, right now? I thought you disliked being in public.”
You hum a bit, shifting, making yourself comfortable on the hard bench. It would take longer than one hour before getting sunburned right? So this is probably fine. Between the sun high in the sky, the soft breeze, and the comfort of Yanqing, you don’t think you’ll have much trouble resting in public. “Bed is too far, and I’m so ‘eepy.”
He huffs, although there’s a smile on his face. “Alright.” 
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bump1nthen1ght · 7 months ago
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Lovers in Arms (Living Armor x Fem!Reader)
Pairing: Fem!Knight x Living Armor (He/Him)
Genre:Fantasy, Established Relationship, Slight Exhibitionism
Warnings: None
Word Count:1507 words
Summary: As a famous knight, you’re quite used to receiving unwanted attention from others, romantic or not. Your partner, however, has found another way of coping with it.
Request: Hear me out a female knight x living Armor. Outside is very protective plate armor but the inside is a sticky, slimy mass of tendrils. When she is out fighting everything is normal but when she is talking with people and doing errands is when it starts to become hard to ignore. Doesn't help that the armor dirty talks and praises her while its fondling and screwing her. They both have a great relationship.
“I don’t like this man.”
“I’m aware.” You mumble under your breath, feeling the way Rust squirms and wriggles against your skin, a tell-tale sign of his annoyance. It’s a far cry from his usual movements, which have a way of syncing perfectly to your limbs, slipping right into the natural crevices. “But he’s willing to pay for this next campaign, so we gotta suck up a bit.”
You’d normally not speak so freely with Rust like this, but the man of discussion, some lord or something, is talking about himself so loudly you doubt he notices.
“I’ve heard much about your past battles, good knight! When I saw you would be leading this battalion, I knew I had to come and meet you.” You nod along, used to the simple back and forths of these sorts of conversations. You play the part, stroke their egos, and your knights and squires have full bellies and well-maintained equipment for the rest of their next mission. It’s embarrassing, but worth it. “I must say too, you are much more…beautiful than I expected, captain.”
You internalize a groan, your armor shuddering as Rust’s tentacles tense up.
This happens a lot too.
“I mean not to offend but when I first heard of your epic tales, I thought ‘surely someone so accomplished can’t also be attractive.’ And yet you-” The lord bites his lip in what he mist thinks is charming, “-have enchanted me.”
You muster your best flattered grin, despite the way your stomach sours.
“Thank you, my lord. I assure you the feeling is mu- hngh!” Blood nearly draws from thr forceful bite against your lip, a moan nearly clawing its way out of you mouth. The lord’s eyebrows shoot up. “E-excuse me. I think some of my old battle scars are-” another breathy sigh, your cheeks growing hot, “-acting up. I apologize.”
You don’t stay to hear the lord's worried questions and sympathies, instead running to your tent. You pass by drinking soldiers and courtiers, all celebrating your last victory. None spare a look at their serious captain, knowing how often you retreat your quarters. Surely to look over battle strategies and war routes, always the hard worker.
“F-fuck, Rust.” You pant, nearly collapsing once you reach your bed. The appendage currently circling your clit stops, your cunt aching from the lack of stimulation. “You have to stop doing that.”
“And why should I?” Rust's smug voice echoes in your helm. “Not like that buffon would’ve noticed. Pigheaded, ignorant fool, flirting with you-”
This was a common occurrence as well. Something about military success and captain’s armor has a way of drawing people’s attention, several nobles looking to leech off of the prestige of courting you. While you’ve perfected a method of deflection, seeming humble yet appreciative, Rust can’t help but seeth whenever they start sweet talking. His jealousy comes to a head, all the sass and the passion all bursting out like a broken dam. You’re usually able go escape somewhere private before it becomes too overwhelming, but there have been times you struggle to finish your sentence because of the tentacles fucking you like a piston, his low voice whispering laviscious that echoe in your ears.
“You’re an immaculate treasure, captain. They don’t deserve you.”
“I don’t know when you look more beautiful, on the battlefield or cumming on my tentacles.”
“Cum for me, Captain.”
You learn to give a grated smile, utter an excuse about your old injuries, and hobble away while cum runs down your legs in rivulets.
It can get a little frustrating, but in this moment, you can't say you hate the effect jealousy has on him.
“Forget about him.” You collapsed onto your bed, all thoughts of reprimanding Rust fading from mind. The only need at the forefront of your mind is lust, your body craving the taste of pleasure. “It’s just us now.”
If he could, Rust would surely be smirking.
“That's right. As it should be.” Rust’s voice rumbles all across your body, accompanied by the familiar slipping of his tentacles, all slotting into place. One slides right between your pussy lips, now slick, and resumes circling your clit. “Just you and I, together.”
Your head is thrown back in a moan, helm falling off and letting your hair lie loose. Rust’s inner body only extends to your chestplate, his voice now echoing off your collar and into your ear.
“Yes, pretty girl. Such pretty noises.” Two tentacles encircle your breasts, squeezing and fondling. “My gorgeous captain” The metal shakes with Rust’s purrs, plate joints rubbing against each other as all the tentacles move. “Hmm, I love the way this pussy tastes after a long battle.”
“Rust.” You whine, hand thrown over your face as a hot blush spreads up your neck.
“What? Its true.” A tip of a tentacle prods at your entrance, dancing around it like a tease. “The sweat that drips down between your thighs, your sweet juices…” That tapered tip slowly enters your whole, tabtalizinignly slow, “It’s addictive.”
A shaky sigh is muffled by your palm, your legs instinctively spreading wide as the tentacle stretches you open. Lines of ridges along the side scrape against your walls, sending shocking bolts across your stomach. Your free hand digs into your blankets.
“Divine.” Rust moans, two limbs pressing your breasts together as another slots in between them. The tentacle inside burns as it reaches its girthiest part, the tip now curled against your g-spot. “If those fools ever saw you like this, captain, they’d know how out of their league you are.”
“Aah!” Your hand becomes a fist and you bite down on your knuckles, Rust finally starting to thrust inside of you. In private he likes to take his sweet time setting the pace, unraveling you like a gift.
“I want you to sing for me, general.”
“Oh, fu-uck.” You draw out your vowels, back arching as the tentacles around your nipples twist even tighter. The ones deep in your pussy go frustratingly slow, drawing out to the tip before pressing you open again. “Rust.”
If your enemies could see you now; The fierce Captain of the Crimson Brigade, whose command brought countless victories for the crown, who never rested until the fight was one, begging like a common whore. Your voice all high and needy, so different from the gruff persona you put on when shouting orders.
On the battlefield, you and Rust are all business. Everything clicks, your two bodies moving in perfect synchronicity, throwing javelins and wielding a greatsword with ease. You’re the perfect pair; You bring the technique, he brings the strength, and together you can bring down titans. A force to be reckoned with, that bows to no one.
But it can be exhausting. All those decisions, life-changing decisions, are in your hands. You are the face of this operation, after all, and any missteps reflect on your leadership, no one else's.
So what's wrong with handing the reins over, every once in a while? Let someone set the pace, move your body for you. Let you be the obedient soldier, following the lead.
“Good girl.” Rust purse, and all those troubles from before melting away.
Your thighs fight to clench together as he begins fucking you faster, vision blurring as he hits your g-spot with precision. The merriment of celebration and drunken victory outside are loud enough to drown your wanton noises. Let them have their image of their general, let them have the person you pretend to be on the battlefield. These noises are for Rust, and only Rust.
“I’m getting close.” Your lips quiver, the skin nearly worn thin from your incessant biting. “Please, Rust.”
“How could I ever say no to you, Captain?” A second tentacle slips inside you, joining its twin and thrusting in you like a well-oiled machine. A gaso claws its way out of your throat, hips jumping from the burning stretch. “Especially when you ask so nicely.”
The tentacles twist together, writing against your walls. Your eyes roll back into your head as a buzzing sensation travels up from your core to your face, like you're starting to go numb.
“Oh, gods!” You cry out as the crescendo finally hits, pussy clenching the tentacles in a vice. All of Rust’s appendages shudder, a sultry groan echoing out of your collar.
The armor feels hot, almost too hot as you lay in the end, the high of climaxing slowly fading. Sweat drips down your entire body, loving tentacles lapping them up eagerly. Words still escape you, your thoughts a jumbled mess of sensations and emotions. You should really take a shower, shed Rust and clean him as well, but everything is sore, and your brain calls for sleep.
“Rest, my captain. We can bathe in the morning.”
Rust whispers, low tone only pulling you further into unconsciousness.
In the soft embrace of your lover, you can fall asleep peacefully. No thoughts of battles, or blood, or death. Just the two of you, as always.
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lost-in-fiction-like-ur-mom · 9 months ago
Note
Can I request a Hunter x female Y/N comfort/whump paternal fic plz? <3
Btw I loved your Crosshair x Y/N fic <3
Knight in Rusty Armor
Hunter x Reader
Summary- After a bad run-in at a market, Hunter has to save you and Omega. You can't help but feel like a failure for not being able to protect Omega by yourself...
A/N- Thank you so much for requesting! I'm not completely confident in my ability to write Hunter, but I tried my best!! Hope this is what you had in mind, XoXo.
Word Count- 2,118
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You could feel his gaze on you from a mile away. It seemed that no matter the circumstance, Hunter was there.
While you were grateful for him, always- you couldn't help but feel like he didn't trust you. Well, maybe trust wasn't the right word. Nevertheless, he had to accompany you and Omega for a trip to the market.
Everyone had been flying for days and needed a place to resupply. Stretch their legs. You offered to take Omega to shop for some new clothes. She had rips in her shirt- ones that were barely held together by your sewing. So it seemed natural that you would take her, being the only other female on the ship.
Even before landing, you brought up the idea of you and Omega going to Hunter. You wanted to spend some time with her alone. One might have even said mother and daughter bonding...
He turned you down immediately. Rightfully so, as it was a foreign place. But you still wanted to compromise.
That's where you were now, looking through bounds of outfits. Varied from dresses, pants, jackets, and finally shirts. Hunter kept his distance. He did understand that Omega needed some 'girl time' with you, as Tech called it. He also understood that you two were the most important people to him, and he wanted to protect you at all cost.
When you and Omega stepped into an actual establishment for children's clothes, Hunter stood outside the door. Close enough that he could hear Omega laughing.
She picked through a rack, showing you the shirts she thought looked silly. The two of you got a couple odd looks, but neither of you cared.
A particular neon-green tube top grabbed her attention. She picked it up and joked that she wanted it.
"Yeah, very stealthy Omega." You said, playfully.
She giggled and put the shirt back. The two of you proceeded to go to the cashier with the 3 other shirts you found. Ones that fit her and were darker tones.
You immediately noticed that the owner of the store had a sour look on his face. This resulted in you putting on an cheery attitude, being extra kind.
"Ten credits." The yellow man stated, ignoring your pleasantries.
"T-ten?" You sputtered out, shocked. The tags on the clothes clearly stated 'one credit each.'
"Three for the clothes, and seven for the ones you insulted. Now an additional two for arguing with me." Since when was asking a question arguing.
Omega looked up at you, wondering what you would do next. You didn't have Ten credits on you, though you knew Hunter would let you tap into his personal stash if you asked. In this matter however, three shirts were not worth ten credits.
"Sir, i'm sorry about the comments. But we meant no harm. I can give you three credits for the shirts, as they are priced. No more." You reasoned with the man, knowing how bad Omega needed new clothes.
"You are not leaving this store until I get fifteen credits from you." He grumbled and reached for his blaster.
"Excuse me?" You were taken aback. Who did he think he was? Your own blaster was already raised.
"We don't have fifteen credits, and will be leaving now." You said, dropping the clothes. You were frustrated that the day had turned bad.
"Then she can work them off." He shoved his blaster to Omegas temple. Omega had left her energy bow back at the ship, and her borrowed blaster was on the side of her leg.
"We really don't have time for this, sir." You said before effectively disarming him. Your own blaster shot right past his shoulder, missing on purpose. It distracted him long enough for you to knock his blaster out of his own hand. Omega reached down to grab it- both guns now pointing at him.
It was as simple as it seemed, the guy was inexperienced. What the two of you didn't anticipate was Hunters call.
After rushing outside, the building was surrounded by men that looked like the store owner. Yellow with three horns on their ugly face.
What you would find out later was that the store owner had a bad temper, and went ahead to call for back-up. He was determined to make you all pay. Insanely petty if you could say so yourself.
Nevertheless, firing commenced. Again, it was easy. Even though they had numbers, they didn't possess the same skill as the three of you. Maybe that's why you got cocky?
Maybe that's why you found yourself with a blaster pointed at the back of your neck. The store owner! How did you forget him, you and Omega had rushed out without a second thought.
"This time, disarming me won't be so easy." You felt his breath on your ear, disgusting.
"Put the blaster down. Now." Hunter commanded. If you had your thoughts straight, it would have been really sexy.
"I don't think I will. I want 100 credits. For my time, and having to deal with these ratchet things you call humans!" The man insulted.
You smirked, "Not a wise decision." You remarked. Now it was personal- Hunter did not take insults to his girls lightly.
"Yeah, and what do you know? You're the one with a blaster poi-" He was interrupted by Hunter shooting him. Hunter wasn't as forgiving as you. The man fell, you didn't even look to see if he was alive.
With a puff Hunter started, "Let's get back."
"Are you okay!" Omega jumped to your side, calling your name.
Her voice sent a pang down from your spine to your stomach. She shouldn't be worried about you... She should feel safe and protected. All she saw was you getting risky and dumb. Now she thought she had to worry about you... You felt shame rush to your cheeks in a pink hue.
This Hunter took notice of, he was confused. There was nothing to be embarrassed about? At least he didn't think so.
The walk back to the ship was mostly silent, except for Hunter confirming we would try another market soon.
You kept your head up, now being over-cautious, hand hovering your blaster. That was until Hunter took your hand in his. He smiled at you. He could feel the tension off your body. He'd ask about it the second you got some alone time.
You looked at him and swallowed. You only felt more guilt. How was he so collected but ready to engage in combat at any moment. All of it just made you more insecure, what did you bring to the table?
Your thoughts were interrupted by Omega, pulling on Hunters free hand.
"Hunter! Can I pleeeeease get some!" She gestured to a bag of sweets for sale. A mix of fruity candy, lolli-pops, and chewing gum.
"I don't know Omega." He started, but after seeing her face fall he followed it with- "Okay, but you'll have to share it with Wrecker."
She jumped up, hugging onto his arm. "Thank you! You're the best dad ever!" She giddily said, snatching the credit he held out for her.
His face brightened up, it was his turn to wear a light pink hue. Omega didn't even seem to realize what she said, but you gripped Hunters hand tighter.
"Dad... I like it." You leaned onto him, resting a head on his shoulder. Your arm now fully wrapped around his.
"She probably didn't even mean to say it..." He doubted, not wanting to think anything that wasn't mutual.
"Don't sell yourself short, Hunter." You said, not looking up at him, but rubbing your cheek on the material of his shirt.
Omega bopped back over and the three of you headed back to the ship.
Sleep escaped you, tossing and turning. The thoughts of the market kept you awake. This was not normal. You had all been in crappy situations like that one, why did it affect you so much?
Having Hunter save you wasn't something you resented, it was quite attractive. Just this instance. You had been so careless... You could have put an end to it all, but forgot to immobilize the main threat. You huffed and puffed, trying to get out your frustrations.
You were so lost in thought, that when Hunter placed a concerned hand on your shoulder- you jumped. He pulled away instantly, thinking he might have hurt you in some way.
"W-what?" You asked, squinting up at him. It seemed that no one else was awake, Hunter being the only one on watch.
"Hey, hey, what's wrong, sweets?" He asked, hearing his nickname for you was enough to calm you down. At least, enough to get up and settle in one of the cock-pit seats.
You took a deep breath and sat up. He steadied you, an arm wrapping under your armpit to hold you.
"Just can't sleep." He knew there was more to the story. That was a big part about why you loved him. He was more than attentive, and the most selfless lover you could ask for.
"Come sit with me." He suggested, pulling you up with him as he stood to his feet.
He still had a hand rested on the small of your back as he led the two of you to the cockpit,
"So, what happened at the market?" You looked down, shame flooded out of you. Seemingly for no reason. You opted to sit down before answering.
"I let Omega down... There's nothing else to it. It was obvious." You almost felt angry that he didn't see the situation as you did.
His face scrunched up, eyes burning at you. He blinked several times before replying- "What are you talking about?"
With a groan you spoke again, "I can't even protect her from an angry, stupid, vender! You had to save us!" Your voice cracked at the end.
"I thought you didn't mind wh-" You cut him off
"I don't, I just-" You grumbled, frustrated that you couldn't find the right words.
"It's okay, you didn't let anyone down. Everyone is safe, it was just a small mishap." He reasoned, hating that you felt anything less than perfect. If only you saw yourself as he saw you.
You took a quick breath, "One day it won't be a 'small mishap' and something might happen to Omega. I was careless! Now she knows I can't protect her. I'm supposed to be the person she can run to... She must be so disappointed."
You let your head fall into your hands. You rested there for a moment, that was until Hunter made his way in front of you. He gently grasped your hands in his.
He lifted one of your hands to rest on his cheek- the tattooed one. You moved your thumb across the black lines.
"Omega thinks the world of you... nothing will change that. Who knows what would have happened if I wasn't there. If I hadn't called you out, you would have been able to think on what to do with the owner, right?" He explained, trying to shift some of the blame to himself.
You nodded at his words. At this he brings his free hand to rest on your cheek, matching yours on his. His words made you feel some relief, but you couldn't deny how you still felt guilty. Guilty that Omega may have thought differently now.
"Thank you..." You sniffled out, his words making your eyes water.
You leaned in for a kiss, only to be interrupted by a rustling.
Omega. Her light voice called your name, just before jumping onto you and Hunter. He held her steady as she fell into your arms.
"Today was so fun... I'm not disappointed!" You gasped slightly at her words, "You heard all that?" You had a worried look on your face.
"You guys are my family. I'll always feel protected with you." She leans into your arms, head resting just under your shoulder.
"I don't care about the mean guy, I had the best day ever... Can we visit the next market we find as well?" She said, excited, looking up into your eyes.
How could you say no to her sweet face?
"I think Hunter, Wrecker, Tech, and Echo should come too. Maybe they will have as much fun as we did shopping!" You and Hunter both laughed at this.
"i'm not so sure shopping is Tech's thing." Hunter joked.
You laughed again, wiping off the last tear on your face. Your anxieties had finally died down.
Hours later, Hunter would find you both asleep in the pilots chair- Omega rested snugged in your arms. That is, with evidence of the last candy all over Omega.
A/N- Thank you so much for reading! I didn't have a strong vision for this one, but I told myself I had to finish it before starting another. I also went off of some Star Wars article saying that 1 Credit is equal to 5 USD. Sorry if I got that wrong! As always, I am open to constructive criticism!
Tags- (lmk if you want to be tagged as well!) @thethreeeyed-raven @knight-of-flowerss
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mediterraneanmenace · 1 year ago
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Whoever made that edit of Raphael with salt and pepper hair: I can't get it out of my head so I will be implementing it in this illustration I'm working on
Fun own lore fact: *part* of Raph's attraction for Azarel comes from her having some personality traits similar to his. Other than being a lvl. 20 Paladin captain before he tricked her into signing his contract. Back to lvl. 1 you go In the story (pre-BG3) her downfall is brought by her own arrogance. Now who else thinks that he will be able to rule the Hells after getting a certain crown...
And yes, they sing together.
Update:
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The death stare she gives him while he kisses her 👀 This illustration is based on a song I've been listening on repeat non stop in the past days.
"Come, my love Rule with me for eternity Drown all dreams so mercilessly And leave their souls to me" *** "Wild and strong you can't be contained Never bound nor ever chained Wounds you caused will never mend And you will never end"
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lovebotmo · 4 months ago
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like the movies
chapter six - early morning quidditch
series masterlist
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pairing: theodore nott x reader
wc: 1370
author's note: so...
it's been a couple of months...i would like to formally apologize for the delay. i graduated from university and am currently studying for grad school entry exams while working!! i appreciate you guys' patience and kind messages. i hope you enjoy this next installment!!! thanks xx
also i had a bunch of people ask about the taglist so pls if i missed you lmk!!!!
song inspiration: dreams by the cranberries
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The next morning, you found yourself trudging towards the quidditch pitch with Hannah and Hermione in tow. Autumn was making a grand show of her arrival. The forest surrounding Hogwarts’ vast grounds was already bleeding into warm reds and oranges. Crisp air bit at the ruddy cheeks of Hogwarts students buzzing with excitement at the first match of the season.
As beautiful as it was, it was also nippy, and you were starting to regret having foregone your outerwear. Your admirable, but ultimately stupid, decision to wear your maroon and gold sweater in support of Gryffindor without a jacket resulted in chattering teeth and your palms’ frantic attempts to rub warmth back into your body.
“If I ever decide I need to be so school spirited again, bonk me over the head, will you?”
Hannah laughed at your ridiculous request as you trod together towards the stands. “I hardly think that will be necessary.”
Crossing your arms over your chest, you hunched over in a vain attempt to contain your quickly dissipating body heat. “I think my fingers might actually freeze off, Han. Are my lips turning blue?” You turned to the blonde, playfully pursing your lips.
Hannah grasped your chin, giving your mouth a quick glimpse before a grim expression overtook her face. “Looks like you’ve got a bad case of frostbite. Might need to amputate, honestly.” You gasped in mock horror.
Another gust of autumnal wind had you cringing at the chill. “My nipples could cut through diamonds, right about now,” you muttered. That had Hannah pealing over with laughter.
Hermione rolled her eyes. “Enough with the dramatics. You’ll be warmer once we’re in the stands.”
You shuffled closer to Hannah as you began to walk up the countless flights of stairs of the stands, grasping her arm in yours and intending to steal her body heat. “You’re no fun, ‘Mione.” She ignored you.
Rude.
“Don’t you worry,” Hannah said, moving her arm out of your grasp to pull you in by the shoulder. “I’ll keep you nice and warm,” she giggled, wiggling her eyebrows at you.
“My knight in shining armor!” You exclaimed, clasping your hands to your chest and batting your lashes at her in faux flirtation.
Behind you, Hermione groaned. “It’s too bloody early to be dealing with you two.”
You and Hannah quickly wrapped Hermione in your fold, trying to alleviate the sour mood of your dear friend. Finally, she gave you a reluctant grin. “Alright, alright, let’s just get a spot in the stands before they’re all gone, hm?”
“Yes ma’am.”
The three of you eventually found seats beside the Patil twins who had also come to cheer on the Gryffindor team. Parvati seemed surprised at your arrival.
“I wasn’t expecting to see you, Y/n. You’re not usually one for early morning quidditch.”
Parvati wasn’t wrong. You took sleeping in on the weekends very seriously, considering how little you got to once the school year got into the swing of things.
You shrugged, “You know, it’s our seventh year—have to enjoy it while I can, yeah?”
Not that a certain Slytherin was counting on your appearance or anything.
Parvati seemed to squint the slightest bit, as if sensing your response wasn’t the whole truth.
“Besides,” you said, bumping her shoulder with yours, “I’ve decided to grace the masses with my presence. I’m all about being generous.” Parvati let out a shocked breath before giving you a shoulder bump of her own.
“Whatever you say.”
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As with any match between the rival houses of Gryffindor and Slytherin, underhanded moves, bodychecks, and downright filthy maneuvers characterized the playing strategy of both teams. Tensions were high across the pitch and within the stands as everyone watched with bated breath and barely contained excitement to see which team would beat out the other. Lee Jordan’s voice occasionally rang out over the enchanted speakers announcing fouls and goals as blips of green and red crossed your vision. You could hardly make any of them out as they whooshed past and left you colder than ever.
If my mum were here, I’d never hear the end of not bringing a coat.
You continued to fitfully shiver as you tried to discern the players, looking out for Harry and Ginny amongst others. The one player you could definitively make out was the Slytherin keeper nearest to where you sat, who was none other than your Potions partner. It made sense that Theo was a keeper, considering Ron’s particular dislike for the Italian.
Ron was many things, but subtle was not one of them.
Despite being decked out in your house’s colors, you couldn’t help but cheer internally each time Theo skillfully deterred Gryffindor chasers attempting to score. There was a certain degree of elegance to his athleticism. It was calculating and methodical, but aggressive all the same. He was well suited to Slytherin. Theo belonged on the quidditch pitch.
He looked…good out there.
As if sensing your gaze from the stands, Theo’s eyes trailed over before settling on you. Meeting his stare, you gave a small smile and sent a small wave, keeping your other arm tucked into your body for warmth. He flashed a grin that you could only describe as roguish, before his attention was drawn back to the game. Katie Bell was rearing toward him, careening with the crimson quaffle in tow. Cutting through the air, Theo dodged an incoming bludger before swatting the leather-covered quaffle with his broom head away from the tiered goal hoops. As his teammates caught the quaffle and raced in the opposite direction, that heavy gaze of his returned to you. His mirthful eyes almost seemed to say, “Did you see that?”
You did. You saw him.
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210-130. The final score reflected Gryffindor’s unexpected triumph over Slytherin, thanks to Harry’s innate talent as a Seeker. Despite Slytherin having a lead on Gryffindor for the entirety of the game, Draco had let the snitch slip through his grasp, leading the team to a rough and irritating defeat. Around you, the crowd was in an uproar, raucously celebrating Gryffindor’s victory, setting the tone for the oncoming quidditch season. You cheered with Hermione and Parvati by your side, clapping for your friends on the team and their exciting win. Soon, you were all clambering down onto the wet green of the pitch, awaiting the team’s reappearance.
Huddling into the warmth of Parvati’s side, you and your friends recounted the best moments of the match.
“Can you believe that early save by Ron? I swear, I thought Pucey was going to take his head clean off.” Hermione exclaimed.
“Worried over Ron, are we?” teased Hannah, prompting a shove from Hermione.
“I’m allowed to worry about my best friend, aren’t I?”
“Oh, so that’s what he is, hm?” questioned Padma to your right, who, anticipating Hermione’s incoming push, deftly avoided it. Hermione glared.
You couldn’t help but chuckle at your friends’ antics, gaze trailing over the field swarming with students, professors, and the like. A group of green crossed your vision, the Slytherin team reemerging from their changing rooms, looking absolutely miffed. Theo’s head was turned toward the ground, eyebrows furrowed in what you had no doubt was a sour expression.
Poor Theo—he must be absolutely gutted.
You tried to make eye contact with him, but now he was avoiding your eyes, squaring his shoulders as he plodded away from the pitch, alone. The sight was all too familiar, reminding you of that day in Hogsmeade.
Someone should go after him…right?
You shifted your feet, unsure, before speaking to your friends, “Hey guys, I’m going to—” Your next words were interrupted by Ginny’s arm circling over your shoulder and her excited holler, reanimating the crowd into shouts of victory. The Gryffindor team was back. As your friends cheered and swarmed around you, the sight of Theo’s back disappeared from your vision, lost in a crowd of crimson and gold. Soon, you were being moved along with the rest of Gryffindor house and friends back to the common room to celebrate the first victory of the season. You took one last look in the direction the Slytherin keeper went, before moving along with your friends.
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taglist: @melllinaa, @randomgurl2326, @lovelyygirl8, @abaker74, @mypolicemanharryyy, @vanevafu, @laceandsuch, @agent-tempest, @themarauderswife7, @adoraspace, @spencerreidsthings, @crimsntwlip, @readingthingsonhere, @sbrn0905, @violet2022, @aemiliazzz, @hoeforvinniehackerrr, @chgrch, @the-sylver-dragon, @ahead-fullofdreams, @thoughtfultrashcolor, @valenftcrush, @shereadsandcries, & @teslaraven20
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futurefind · 1 year ago
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//Sasume as Chaldea's Master is so funny like yes shes the source of as much antics n bullshit n self endagering like a gudaguda event just by herself (NO sasume technically viable or not you are NOT pinning the nigh undefeatable enemy in place by LETTING THEM STAB YOU so ur servants can nuke them while pinned via gore) but like
Because she epitomizes the spirit of FGO MC: while not an everyman like them, sure, she's just as insistently and stubbornly determined and compassionate and determinedly compassionate no matter what the world throws at her
YES this shit sucks YES she doesn't want to do it YES she never wanted to do it but also fuck you humanity is going to survive she's going to make sure it does no matter how much she hates the process and how much it hates her you are not going to stop her
(And also make 'anonymous' vday chocolates for the entirety of the Chaldean staff + servants every year while she does)
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randoimago · 10 months ago
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Hi omg I’m so excited hopefully this request is ok and makes sense. I really like your work so I’m a tad nervous. But basically how would Yusuke, and Ryuji (and Mishima if possible if not that’s also completely understandable) be around their very short S/O like 5 feet 2 inches tall or less level of short. I hope that makes sense if not feel free to ignore me.
Fandom: Persona 5
Character(s): Yuuki Mishima, Ryuji Sakamoto, Yusuke Kitagawa
Note(s): Found a height chart for the group. Futaba and Haru are both short (5'2" and less) queens and I love them. Also, I'm always happy to write for Mishima, he's my goofball 🥰
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Mishima
He finds the height difference to be adorable. You're his very cute S/O and he'll gladly help you with whatever you need. Even if you don't really need his help, he'll still offer it. Sure, a step stool would probably be enough for you to reach something, but he still wants to be a useful boyfriend.
Mishima is there to defend you if he hears anyone else saying some kind of short joke to you. Even if you find them amusing, he's still defending you because he knows those jokes can get old quick and doesn't want your mood to potentially sour because the jokes get old.
Yes, you might be his short S/O, but if you want to maybe play video games with him (please) then he'll gladly be your knight in shining armor in that too. He'll happily be your healer if you want to tank. Even if it is in a video game, he finds it so freaking attractive if you defend him despite your smaller stature.
Ryuji
Absolutely leans on you, placing his arm on the top of your head and little things like that to mess with you. It's all done in good fun and he'd never want to actually hurt your feelings, but he's the type of boyfriend to do that stuff.
Ryuji accidentally puts things on high shelves where you can't reach. It's legitimately an accident because he's just placing things where he's always used to having them. He didn't even think about the fact that you can't reach. He is amused when he sees you struggling but then he moves to help you.
He would be happy to pick you up and give you piggyback rides and such though. Even if it's not the best on his knees, he will still try if it makes you happy. Ryuji gets a bit flustered with the affection, but he'll still do it if you ask enough.
Yusuke
Yusuke doesn't intentionally makes short jokes, but he bluntly comments on your height now and then if you need his help to get something from a higher shelf. Again, he doesn't mean for it to sound like a joke, he just says it without thinking of it. Will apologize when he sees you're upset.
Despite the accidental insults, he doesn't really treat you any differently. You're his S/O and that's what he sees you as. That said, if he does have art on the mind then it is interesting for him to see the perspective change for you. Might ask you to take photos of things at your eye level so he can try some new painting idea or something.
Is a bit hesitant with introducing you to Futaba. She's also very small and the last thing he wants is for her to corrupt you and then he's dealing with two tiny gremlins, one being his S/O. If you're already a gremlin then he just sighs and deals with it.
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Taglist: @reo-the-leo
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inspiredrawaw · 11 months ago
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The Eclipse team!
Myrvin McGrove a star mage apprentice and next in line for fox protector of the local forest.
Jaxie Richard a knight in training who also works really hard to have a social life
Lemon “Lemy” Blixt a lemon orchard farmer who is very tired and is the life that gives you lemons
Charlotte Richard, a sneaky rogue of the land and also Jaxie’s sister!!! Family dinners are a bit tense
And now things I’ve changed for the design and whyyyyyy and how it fits in the storrryyyyyyyyyyyyy
First off! I had no desire to draw these characters for a while which told me that I needed to change some things to make them exciting to draw again.
Now originally this story was set in a modern world and the characters were placed into a fantasy world. I apparently don’t like modern settings for my stories so full on fantasy we go! I’m also a SUCKER for fantasy give me full control of the world to sandbox in
Because of this some designs were changed.
I changed Myrvins deer mask to fox because I feel like it’s a better insight into this guys character and there is a fox constellation! I also already have a deer character in my other story Opal Reapers and I didn’t want repeats
And due to my experiences with (hopefully temporary) vision loss I wanted to change a bit on how Myrvins vision loss worked. Such as having a short white ID cane that’s great to help with depth perception and having his mask cover 1 eye to make things easier for him. I did change his scar to be more star shape and his cape to look like that of a fox!
Now Jaxie, jaxie has been the one name from when these guys were septic ego OCs that kept the name so I also switched it and put an x in there. X marks the spot for Myrvins affection apparently and also probleeeemmmsss. He needs a break! 👏👏👏 went for more knight armor but kept some elements from his previous design such as ginger hair and his double lit candle tattoo. And the red hoodie that is his STAPLE
LEMY!!!!!! I love Lemy. So I never shared this character but they were suppose to be a guide for Myrvin in the original fantasy world. But now they don’t need that and I still wanted a reference to the original title dealing with orchard. But we already got our red character so yellow it was! Our sour lemon lantern orchard farmer. I designed her hat to look like a straw hat but still be part of her head design I am so happy with it. Also gives scarecrow vibes
AND CHARLOTTE!!!!!!!!! GOD SHES FINALLY BEEN GIVEN TRAITS DEAR STARS. So originally went from being Jaxies brother, to goth sister named Charlie, to now Charlotte problem was that I didn’t know what role she played in the story. She’s a lesbian mess with a knife I love her. She’s a rose both pretty and will slice ya. Big dramatic anime villain vibes for someone who is not a villain. Both Charlotte and Jaxie are trans because I think it’s funny to think that they were told to share as kids and shared everything including their gender and never asked for it back.
The story is still gonna revolve around the Solar and lunar Eclipses drama and poor communication skills and take up Myrvin and Jaxie as there champions as celestial entities DO. Which I shall design….. eventually
ANYWAY if you made it down here thanks for reading let me know what you think.
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wilderness-of-thoughts · 2 months ago
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Before:
Gojo wasn't a feeder. He just liked watching you eat.
Ever since he first saw you, quickly stuffing the remains of your dinner into your cheeks to rush to training with Yaga - You reminded him of a hamster. He knew from your gaze that you liked the food. No matter what. Sweet, salty, sour. You ate everything. And when you really liked something you moaned as if you were coming.
On all his trips, missions, or just walking around town - he was looking for new dishes for you to try. Gojo wasn't a feeder. Really. It wasn't an unhealthy obsession, he just loved watching you eat. Because when you ate you were happy. And when you were happy his smile seemed less artificial.
And it's not like you were greedy. When you ate something, you were happy to share it.
At first he was surprised when you stood on your toes and without a word put a cookie in his mouth. Ijichi was explaining something then. He lisped and stuttered because he had to work with Gojo. This was the beginning of their collaboration. Even though you had known Gojo longer and had been given a job as Ijichi's backup, you didn't rebel. You just waited patiently for Ijichi to finish talking. And then you gave him a cookie as a reward.
Yaga once accidentally mentioned that you had been starving for a long time as a child. Maybe that's why you loved eating, sharing food, and feeding others?
With time, Gojo actually waited for you to give him something to eat when he was just standing and you were nearby. It wasn't always something he liked. Especially when you once put a spicy pretzel in his mouth.
Gojo also loved to annoy you, put you in embarrassing situations, see how you react emotionally. And the icing on the cake was when he was able to combine it all into one. He wasn't a teacher yet, but he was close to passing his teacher's exam. He met many women at university, and the fact that he was a womanizer was as obvious as the sun shining.
He was on a date with one of his older "friends to date" in a café when he saw the place's specialty - a large fruit sorbet with whipped cream and cookies. He and his date had already had their sorbets, so he knew the snack was first-class. And Satoru immediately wanted to watch you eat your portion.
Of course, it would be good tact and manners for him to come here with you, for example, the next day. But Gojo is Gojo, when something came to his mind - he had to do it immediately.
He didn't even know what his date was talking about anymore, he wasn't listening to her, he was just nodding along. It was a farce, he had to play it every time so as not to look like a total asshole - which he was - Chit-chat, a pseudo-date, and then the fucking.
"What are you doing Satoru?" the woman asked when she saw Gojo typing something on his phone.
"I forgot to buy condoms." He said with amusement and a mischievous smile before he put his phone aside to look at the woman flirtatiously. He saw her blush, knew the look she was giving him, she was both embarased and excited.
"We can buy some on the way..." She whispered, gently moving closer to him. Great, at least she wasn't playing hard to get.
"No need, I've already taken care of it" he replied like a knight in shining armor who had just freed a princess from the clutches of a bloodthirsty dragon. And indeed. He settled the matter.
After about two quarters of an hour, you entered the local. Pissed, red in the cheeks from shame and anger you searched for Gojo with your eyes. When you found him you simply walked up to him and without a word put the pack of condoms on his table.
"Condoms for the dick." You said spitefully through your teeth "I bought it like you wanted, for an EXTRA SMALL PENIS!" You made sure that you would be heard in the room. Gojo wasn't angry, rather amused. He looked at you the whole time with a wide smile worthy of a pixie.
"Thank you very much," he pretended to be polite, as if he hadn't just dragged you out of town on a whim.
"Satoru, who is she?" His date grabbed Gojo by the arm, the man feeling his biceps now sandwiched between the woman's two breasts. Gojo liked that his date was jealous and was delighted by the way you wrinkled your nose in disgust.
"This is my subordinate, Y/n introduce yourself nicely" he waved his hand. A sly dodge, he simply forgot his date's name. You exchanged glances, he knew that you knew and he knew that despite your reluctance, you would dance to his tune. You curtsied theatrically.
"I'm Y/n, nice to meet you." You smiled.
"Nice to meet you too, I'm Kimiko." The woman replied. Ladies and gentlemen, we have the Jackpot! But seriously? Kimiko? He thought Yume... Ohhh, no... Not Yume... Yume was the one with the mole on her...
"Since the shipment for EXTRA SMALL PENIS has been delivered... I'll lea-..." You started, but he quickly cut you off.
"Stay a moment longer. You've come such a long way. I'll buy you a sorbet," You looked at him suspiciously, but you never refused food. And so Gojo had what he wanted.
That twinkle in your eyes. He saw saliva gathering in the corners of your mouth as you held the spoon and wondered which side to start eating your dessert from. His date Kiomi? Kikyo? Fuck, he forgot again. Anyway, the woman who would forget her own name in an hour was chatting again while Gojo watched you eat.
You were used to Satoru taking pictures of you eating. Generally, to him supposedly taking pictures of you on the sly. You didn't have an opinion to care about, and so far he's never used those pictures against you. So you didn't care when this time Gojo snapped a not-so-stealthy photo of you gushing over the taste of dessert.
∆∆∆
Gojo hated that he was small. Especially now. After you made up and fixed computer, he was sitting on your desk. You were curled up in a chair watching anime while he tried to sneak a photo of you. You were eating cereal (what does it matter that it's night?).
Seeing his hard efforts you rolled your eyes and simply picked up his phone and took a stupid selfie.
"Here, can you please go back to your seat and be my mental support? I'm about to cry." You said, handing him the device.
"L is a loser, he deserved to die. I'm much cooler." Satoru said with satisfaction looking at the picture you took. He kept purring and gently moving his tail. He saved your photo in his secret folder: My private slave ❤️
"Sure thing, you would have defeated Kira in the first episode."
"And then I became friends with Ryuk." He added with a smile, climbing onto your shoulder.
"myhym, and speaking of friends, my probably-boyfriend is coming over tomorrow evening to fix the faucet."
"M-kay."
...
...
...
...
"WHAT?!" He hissed loudly.
Next:
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