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#{the lady behind the knights}
achirding · 10 months
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SatBK Prompt Week - Day 7: Peace
Even knights take days off, and what better way to enjoy a peaceful day that to share stories and laughter over some hot tea and snacks?
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nonuggetshere · 7 months
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Shiptober day 2: New ship
Not my newest new ship but I love these two so they get to be be drawn :] I drew this pose and decided hey what if I made it their wedding day AND THEN I DID
Prompt list under the cut
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antelabbitdoods · 1 month
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she who slayed saved the last of the unicorns
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ruthlesslistener · 1 year
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Thinking about WL/Dryya again...I tend to headcanon Dryys as a mantis from a tribe outside of Hallownest (close enough to communicate with and understand the native mantises of Hallownest, but not close enough to be trusted), and just...what if the reason why she left her homeland was because there was a famine imposed by the elites to control those of lower rank/make them dependant on the upper class, and one of the things that she demanded from this pair of newling gods was that they would never abuse their power the way that her superiors did theirs, and she fell in love with the White Lady when she promised that as long as Hallownest stood, she would never let any of them go hungry. What if her loyalty was forged bc of that simple reassurance that no matter what might await in the future, Hallownest would always be rich in both plant and prey aplently, because she spent too long watching younglings starve to ever serve under someone so power-hungry again. What if
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gloopdimension · 23 days
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and i do think pongorma fluffing up for dedus is the best thing ever
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marykaxmuses · 1 year
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✏️ (Let's spin the Crazy Roulette and make it completely random between our Enstars muses 😂😁)
♦ Alright, let's see what's waiting for us. ~ XD
Hanae: So... This is my full potential? Niki: Yes. Hanae: So, then it's... Niki: All downhill from here. Hanae: Like Rinne. Niki: I do not know what this Rinne is. But it sounds disappointing.
Rinne: Where are my fucking keys? Niki: Rinne, Misakye is around, can you say it a little nicer? Rinne: May I ascertain the whereabouts of my FUCKING KEYS?!
Niki, grinning: Before you were what? Rinne: Before I was- Niki: What? Rinne: Before I was inter- Niki: Before you were interrupted? Rinne: Cut me off one more time and I swear I'll- Niki: What? Rinne: *makes frustrated sound* Himeru, nervously: Stop that. Before they hurt you.
Sanae: What’s the status up here? Mayoi: Fucked up, about to die, Aira’s a nerd. The usual.
Alexandra: Who the fuck broke the toaster? Leo: It was Tsukasa. Arashi: It was Tsukasa. Izumi: Tsukasa broke it. Tsukasa: Tsukasa: ...yOU PROMISED-
Tsukasa: If you took a shot for every time you made a bad decision, how drunk would you be? Arashi: Maybe a bit tipsy? Alexandra: Drunk. Leo: Wasted. Izumi: Dead.
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Thank you: Devon Balsamo-Gillis, Nate Gualtieri, Nicki Holcomb, and Summer Plair for my favorite episode of Gotham Knights✨
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earthtooz · 8 months
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you're the only one that can tame diluc's anger. reader is called 'lady' but other than that no pronouns are mentioned, fluff, diluc being a softie in this, 1.2k wc.
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your husband is notorious for being the stoic, level-headed character that he is. unperturbed by all things so long as mondstadt was safe and at peace, and when the city had someone as diligent as diluc protecting it, there was virtually nothing that ever made him falter. as much as you love and adore his rationality and straightforwardness, there was nothing that you hated more than his unwillingness to compromise in an argument.
his bullheadedness caused you to storm out of the manor, trek through the expansive fields of the winery in order to reach mondstadt. there, you calmed yourself down with a quick bite from good hunter before heading to the library because a quick rant to lisa would generally soothe the anger you felt. 
however, your original plans of returning to the winery changed when a book that was recently returned caught your eye. noticing your fleeting glance, the electro-user recommends it, detailing its popularity and captivating storyline.
when lisa feels so passionate about something, how could you not be curious? she rarely gets a sentence out without a yawn nowadays so to hear her speak animatedly about a book is bound to get your attention.
without a second thought, you postpone your plans of returning home and find a comfortable couch to sit on before reading.
you must have spent longer than planned, and a favonius soldier barging through the library doors indicates as such, whose expression so panicked you would have thought there was a hillichurl invasion. he takes a quick scan of the room and relief floods his posture when his eyes land on you.
“lady y/n, you must come with me this instant,” the soldier demands after a quick salute.
“what is the issue?” you ask, undeniably curious.
“master diluc is searching for you and i fear that he is very angry. not even barbara can calm him, some of flora’s flowers have been singed, and he might burn down monstadt next, please come with me before it’s too late!���
you know that the soldier is merely exaggerating because as long as you were in mondstadt, diluc would never dare harm the city. moreover, he would never dare lay a finger on the city he loves, but his anger is nothing to take lightly, and you understand the knight’s fear.
although, you really don’t want to meet your husband.
“fine, i suppose i can classify this matter as urgent,” you sigh. “lisa, could you please let me borrow this book? i’ll return it in two weeks.”
“not a problem dear. better run along now before your husband supposedly burns down the city,” the librarian waves her hand, beckoning you to go, so you do.
the knight leads you to the whereabouts of angel’s share and before you could even turn the corner, you hear a mix of kaeya and diluc’s voices.
“i don’t know where y/n is, which is why i have my knights running around to find-” exclaims the calvary captain, beginning to sound perplexed at his brother’s uncharacteristic display of irrationality and franticness. 
observing the scene, you see your husband right in kaeya’s face and suddenly you understand why the knight who brought you here was so frightened. the air had risen significantly in temperature and if you were a moment too late, he actually might have drawn out his claymore.
his red eyes glance behind the navy-haired to see you and in the blink of an eye, the red-haired pushes past the knights before storming down the street, right towards you. 
“where have you been?” diluc asks, stopping only two feet before you. the deep frown on his face is evident of his displeasure, but the concern swimming in his eyes tell you that you don’t need to be scared.
“i was reading in the library,” you gesture to the book you were holding. “enjoying a peaceful afternoon until i got word that you were creating a ruckus.”
the winery owner visibly relaxes, tension flooding from his shoulders whilst a gloved hand runs through his hair, causing his bangs to fall messily in front of his eyes. “let’s talk about this at home,” he states, tone returning to normal as he takes your book from your hand, his vacant hand finding yours. diluc’s grip is tight and unrelenting, leaving no room for you to slip away as he turns to apologise to the knights of favonius.
then, the two of you leave through the main gates. 
“are you still upset?” your husband asks and you squeeze his hand.
“a little,” you murmur before a small laugh escapes your lips, “but i wish you would have seen how terrified that knight was when he found me. it entertained me quite a bit, guess a thank you is in order for that.”
diluc doesn’t say anything but the guilt dripping from him is practically tangible, pooling around your feet and reminding you of the unpleasant argument you had earlier. as the sun begins to dip below the horizon and the sky turns a calming shade of orange, you realise just how long you spent away from him. no wonder why he was so frantic about finding you. 
“the next time you storm out of the winery, can you at least let me know where you are going?”
you laugh at his proposition, unsure of how to respond but he stops. you’re forced to stop too when his unwavering grip makes you turn and look in the ruby eyes that set ablaze in the gold of the setting sun. diluc’s beauty is truly undeniable, and it’s moment like these that make you feel a little jealous that he was graced with such a gift. 
“i’m serious, y/n, you worried me to end when you didn’t return after three hours. i thought something might have happened to you.” his gaze falls downward with his soft confession. “your safety is the most important thing to me, even when things between us are rocky, because- well, you know…”
your heart tightens and the step you take closer to him is instinctual, letting go of his hand to hold his face instead. “i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to worry you.”
“no, you have nothing to apologise for, it was my fault for being so unbearable in the first place,” the red-haired shakes his head, his hands finding a home on your waist. “i’m sorry too.”
“i forgive you,” you hover a kiss over his nose, causing it to scrunch at the sensation. when you lean back, the softness in his eyes and smile is unmatched and you’re grateful that you’re the only one with the luxury of seeing him as such. the only person he’s let into his kingdom of concrete walls is you, gifting you a more vulnerable side of him that the rest of the world has not seen in years. 
“i love you,” you murmur and diluc hums, tapping your waist three times in response. “oh but diluc, you must tell me how worried you were over me, i think i deserve to know.” 
the red-haired rolls his eyes before dragging you down the hilly path back home. you are perhaps the only one in mondstadt who could perplex him to no end, but that is just another testament of the love he holds for you. 
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© EARTHTOOZ 2023, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.
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saturnsorbits · 3 months
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Lessons in Serving your King
Fandom: My Hero Academia, Warnings: Prince!Bakugo, Suggestive. Word Count: 1.6k.
Summary: Closing in on his 20th name day, tradition dictates that Prince Bakugo choose his first concubines.
A/N: This might become a series, but don't hold your breath.
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'I don't want a fucking -.'
Grabbing her son by the cheeks, Mitsuki Bakugo fixes the young prince still with a cold stare. 'You will do as you're told.'
'But -'
'It is tradition, Katsuki. Not even your ego is large enough to put an end to that.' She smirks before releasing her hold and wipes a hand on the left hip of her dress. 'Now, come on... You're late.'
Huffing, Bakugo tugs at his shirt to smooth the wrinkles left by his mother, but follows on her heels obediently. Usually, he'd put up more of a fight, throw a proper tantrum, but the pit of curiosity growing in his stomach stops him making too much fuss. He's fucking human, after all. Of course, he's going to be at least a little interested in the collection of concubines that had been assembled specifically for his perusal.
That didn't mean he had any intention of choosing any of them, though.
The doors of the main hall seem more daunting than usual, but Bakugo hides his trepidation well.
Or so he thinks.
Mitsuki's hand touches softly on his shoulder, guiding him, not through the main hall, but down the corridor. She offers out her elbow, letting him cling to her as they continue to drift closer to a small, more intimate, service room.
The marble clicks under their shoes, the sound amplified endlessly as it rings behind them announcing their arrival. Large windows scatter light, bringing out the red in both Bakugo and his mother's eyes as they pass the selection of special guards already stationed outside the room. All seven of them, five sworn to his mother and two to him, are dressed from head to toe in royal finery with the lightest of chain mail glittering over their chests. Swords hang from their hips, but Bakugo knows there are much more deadly weapons hidden under their clothes and tucked away from prying eyes.
Captain Aizawa, one of Mitsuki's most trusted knights bows low when they reach the door.
Reaching out, Mitsuki presses a hand to his shoulder and pushes him straight again. 'Enough of that, you'll put your back out.'
Aizawa's mouth moves to argue, but Mitsuki doesn't allow his voice to summon a sound.
'Shouta, you have more than earned the right not to bow.' She chides in a way that makes goose-flesh break out on the other guards, but the Captain simply laughs.
'Is the prince ready, My Lady?'
Mitsuki's hand wraps around her son's bicep giving him a firm squeeze. 'Oh, you know him. Dragged here kicking and screaming.'
Bakugo scowls.
'But, I'm sure he'll manage.'
Another guard, tall and broad in the shoulders with a close crop of dark hair and a booming voice clears his throat. 'If I may speak out of turn, Captain?'
'You will not Yoarashi.'
Mitsuki waves him off. 'Oh, let the boy speak Shouta.'
The guard, Yoarashi, smiles. His teeth are too big for his mouth, but somehow there's still something strikingly handsome about him. Bakugo hates it. 'The consorts have outdone themselves this time, I've never seen a more stunning array of -.'
Captain Aizawa silences his guard with a raised hand. 'That's quiet enough, I think the Queen understands your sentiment.'
'Quite.' Mitsuki smiles, locking a chuckle behind her teeth. 'Speaking of the wonderful job my husbands consort has done, I think it's time to see what Inko has found for us, don't you, Katsuki?'
Bakugo nods, it's all he ca manage with the nerves threatening to make his knees wobble like some common whore. His jaw is tight, teeth clenched in his mouth, but it soon looses as he the doors are thrown wide and he's allowed to step into the room.
Inside the room is dark, the thick red curtains covering the windows putting an end to any natural light that should attempt to slink inside. Instead, the room is illuminated by a series of high torches that cast a godly glow about and perfectly highlighting the row of people stood across the centre of the room.
At once, Inko is upon them. She wraps chubby arms around Bakugo without a second thought and greets his mother with a warm kiss to her hand when offered. Following at her heel is Izuku, her darling son. 'Brother.' Izuku smiles.
'Half Brother.' Bakugo spits the former piece of his sentence, enjoying the way it feels between his lips – the distance it offers him from the man before him. They're the same age. Both Mitsuki and Inko had been pregnant at the same time and the boys born mere months apart, although Inko had done the chief portion of the nursing; especially when Mitsuki's milk had dried up. Something that had lead both women to an unlikely friendship.
'I heard you've outdone yourself this time.' Mitsuki pulls at Bakugo, steering him around to the front of the room.
Bakugo's eyes wonder. There's a conversation flowing in the air around him, but he pays no heed. How can he, when the most beautiful man he has ever laid eyes on is looking directly at him.
The man lifts his head. He is bare to the waist with only the smallest piece of cloth to cover his dignity. If Bakugo where to walk around him, which he just might, he'd bet he'd be able to see his ass in all it's glory.
He has red eyes, violent carnelian, that pierce right to Bakugo's soul and red hair that is tied neatly in a bun atop his head. Licking his lips when he catches the princes' eye, the man smiles, flashing a row of blade-like teeth that threaten to bring Bakugo to his knees.
'Did you hear?' Mitsuki pats Bakugo's lapel.
He didn't, but he nods anyway.
His eyes slip further down the line, silently comparing each concubine to the next, but no-one compares to the red-eyed man until his eyes are blessed by you.
You're near the end, stood beside two others that don't even come close to your beauty with your chin tilted to the floor and your hands clasped neatly before you. Like the others, you're dressed in almost nothing, but it's the bright red 'V' painted onto your skin across the top of your breast bone that has him pausing.
He's seen the mark before and a cursory glance back down the line tells him exactly where. The red head, amongst two or three others, also bare the mark.
Bakugo swallows.
Already he can feel his breeches tightening uncomfortably.
'How many?' He snaps, forcing his eyes from the line and onto Inko.
She blinks. 'Pardon?'
'How many... For my... For my harem?'
'Oh. Most choose at least six to begin with, but after that is custom to add another concubine for each year until you reach 29. Sometimes other kingdoms will offer then as gifts, but you're more than welcome to dismiss -.'
Bakugo raises his hand. 'I don't want a history lesson.'
'Oh, I -.' Inko blushes.
'Brat, watch your tongue...' Mitsuki raises her hand to crack him across the back of the head, but the prince side steps her assault easily.
'I want that one...' He points at you, eyes narrowed and hungry before he turns, pointing at the red haired man at the other end of the room. 'And him. That's all.'
Mitsuki's brow furrows. 'Two? Inko here scourers the kingdom for the finest it had to offer and you choose only two?'
Bakugo folds his arms. He can feel your eyes, the red-heads too, burning through his skin. It makes him hot, makes him wonder what it'll be like when your eyes grow heavy, when they're spotted with ears and your mouths are full of his tongue, his fingers, his cock.
Clearing his throat, he tries to readjust his breeches.
He won't have to imagine soon. No, soon, you'll be his.
'Have them brought to my rooms tomorrow.' Turning on his heel he shouts over his shoulder before storming from the room before his cock begins to soak into his breeches.
Tomorrow, he thinks as soon as the doors slam shit behind him.
That should give him enough time to fist himself stupid to the thought of red eyes and glittering skin.
Hopefully, that would stop him making a fool of himself at the first meeting.
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Bakugo already looks bored when you're brought into his rooms at noon the following day. The door closes behind you, a guard having performed the customary introductions, and all too quickly you're swallowed by the nerves that climb up your body and twist around your lungs.
Adjusting his seat, Bakugo pulls a foot up onto his chair and spreads his knees. A bark leaves his chest that he hopes is harsher than it feels. 'I don't fuck virgins...'
You hear the wet click of Kirishima's throat from beside you in the silence of the room. Even though the red ink is gone, the fact of your both being intact remains the same. 'Uhm, my lord... I mean – Prince Bakugo, I'm... I think there's been some mistake, we're – we're both -.'
'I know.' He waves his hand. Anticipation creates pins and needles in his thighs. Even if he wanted to fuck right now, he's not sure his body would hold out long enough. Maybe, five orgasms in the space of a day was too much.
'Well, you can see how this might be a problem then...' Twisting his knuckles around each other, Kirishima chews at his lip and forces a weak smile. It's strange how he makes six-foot of man look almost as small as you are, but he does it easily and blushes pretty to boot.
'How -.' He clears his throat. 'How are we supposed to serve you if -.'
'You're going to fuck each other, first.' He arches an eyebrow, drawling as if the solution to his little problem has been more than obvious. A smirk curls his lip. 'I'll watch.'
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-> Masterlist
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comicaurora · 2 months
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So based on that last ask with King Arthur is he choosing to fall in love with Gwen even if she has a high chance of falling for Lancealot? If so, it's tragic. Doomed to love another that won't fully love you back.
Does Arthur even just tell Lancenalot to get the hell put of the kingdom some loops?
I think it's more like-
You become aware of your existence somewhere around the age of 3. You were born under mysterious circumstances you don't know the details of. The first time through, you were growing up in a castle. Lately you find you are growing up among peasantry.
Maybe you have brothers. Maybe you have a sister. Maybe you're an only child. Your family is distant either way. They speak welsh. They speak latin. They speak french. They speak english with american attempts at british accents.
The first few times through, there wasn't a sword. Now it's a consistent presence - a shimmering blade stuck in a plain anvil or a large boulder, haunting your hometown or a nearby forest glade. It looks different every time, feels different in your hands. It was made for you.
There are more trials every time. In the first stories the crown was yours from birth. Lately it's been further and further away, behind more tribulations and tournaments and beasts to slay. More guidance from the ageless old man you remember from the earliest days, the welsh days. He's different every time. Everything's different every time. And still nothing changes.
The crown is yours. It's inevitable. And when the crown passes into your hands, it carries the kingdom with it. It's yours now. And it's going to thrive! You hardly need to do anything. Heroes flock to you and pledge themselves as knights, then spend the decades tearing off on wild quests and adventures, getting into the kind of trouble that serendipitously always keeps the kingdom safe. The adventures feel familiar, but never quite play out the same way. Chalices, black knights, fairy women, questing beasts. You rarely see them for yourself. You're too important, after all. You're the kingdom's beating heart.
You have a queen. You don't spend much time with her. It's jarring how much she changes every time. You hate how much it surprises you the times she genuinely loves you; you never really get to enjoy it. The kingdom doesn't run itself, even if just having you around seems to make the forests grow thick and the rivers run clear. Mostly you spend time with her when you're rescuing her from abduction. You very rarely have children together. You miss them.
It didn't used to end in fire, but lately it never ends in anything but, and you never know when it's going to start. You're never home when it starts, but you spend so much time out tending the kingdom or questing anyway. But you always learn too late - treachery. Your knight, your vassal, your bastard child, your lady love. Camelot is burning. You watch your life's work precede you into the grave.
You die. You sleep under the mountain. You dream. It's quiet.
Somewhere in the world, a writer picks up a pen, and you become aware of existence somewhere around the age of 3.
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maitadori · 1 year
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WRAPPED AROUND YOUR FINGER sfw jing yuan x afab!reader
word count : 1.1k
content / cw : fluff, suggestive, making out, smug and teasing jing yuan, cutie yanqing
summary : being the general’s secretary is such a piece of work. why does he insist on getting handsy instead of doing his job? or: in which jing yuan has fallen for his emotionally constipated assistant and your lips look too inviting.
a/n: DISCLAIMERRR!!!! as a poc with melanin, whenever i describe the reader’s face as “hot” that is up for interpretation, it doesn’t necessarily mean i’m saying your cheeks are red. just wanted to put that out there have this piece until i can try to conjure up ideas for weak willed cloud knight mwah mwah
DARK CONTENT BLOGS PLZ DNI!!!
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“general.” you enter the room with a stack of papers in hand, trying your best not to groan when you already see a pile of undone documents sitting there. you expected as much, yet you still sighed in disappointment every time.
your general— who was on the verge of falling asleep— immediately perks up at the familiar click of your shoes as you walk into his office.
“[name], you’re here,” he sighs out, almost fondly. you ignore it in favor of giving him a scolding look.
“you haven’t done a thing since i left this morning, general. do i need to hold your hand through every single file?” your eyes are fierce and your mouth is molded into a frown. jing yuan can’t help but savor your features despite that.
in response to you, he mutters out wistfully, “maybe you do.”
you roll your eyes and set down his papers, right next to the other stack. “general, you can’t keep slacking off like this. lady fu xuan might sweep your position from right under your nose if you keep this up.”
“does that mean i get to spend all of my free time with you?” he ignores your words in favor of bringing you in by the waist. you grip his wrist and try your hardest to pry it off of you.
“don’t you do that already?!” your expression is flushed and he revels in it. even though you try to act and look angry, he notices the subtle way you lean into him.
he reels you into him, bringing you around his desk to where he’s sitting behind in his chair, making you stand between his legs. you’re tugged into his chest and you stop yourself from toppling into his lap by hastily pressing your hands against his collarbones.
“general! you are so inappropriate!!” your tone is scolding.
jing yuan sighs, a faux look of sorrow painting his features, “didn’t i tell you to call me jing yuan?” his voice has a small adoring tone to it, something that you don’t feel like digging deep into at the moment, aware of what you might uncover.
“didnt i tell you that’s improper of me? i’m your subordinate. what would people think if i called you by your given name? they’d suspect you favor me.” you shook your head in exasperation, sighing once more— you seemed to do that a lot in his presence.
“but you are my favorite, if they suspected anything of the sort they’d be absolutely correct,” he says, tugging on your formal wear. you stammer, putting your hand over his in a feeble way to stop him.
“could you shut up for once?!” you exclaim, yet in a whispery voice in fear of others who walk by hear.
“hmm?” he asks slyly, a smirk curling his lips.
“d—do your damn work! if you do, i promise to call you by your name.” by your face expression, jing yuan could tell this is taking a lot out of you and you’re extremely embarrassed. he would feel bad if he didn’t find you so adorable.
“will you let me kiss you, too?” he leans up into your lips.
“that’s definitely asking for too much!!!” you exclaim, face hot, and no longer worried about who might be outside this door.
but as he rubs circles into the fabric of your clothing, his breath hitting your cheeks, his lips nearing yours by the moment, your will is beginning to falter. before you can even realize what you’re doing, your eyes are slipping shut as your hands are sliding up to his shoulders.
“after this i’ll do my work, okay? i promise,” jing yuan whispers. from that alone, you’re nearly broken out of your trance, but before a word is able to leave your mouth his lips lock with yours.
he’s humming into the kiss, showing his obvious satisfaction. your face is warm and you reciprocate the kiss eagerly, almost embarrassed by the fervor.
you were really kissing your general.
he was nibbling your lips, pinching your waist to get access to your mouth, making your mind mush. you couldn’t believe this was happening.
jing yuan is stealing the breath straight from your lungs, and they’re replaced with breathy whimpers. his tongue is leaving no place in your mouth untouched, but by then, you’re already putty in his hold.
you can’t conjure up a single coherent thought, all protests from before becoming blurred and pushed to the back of your mind. his hand is at the seams of your top, his cold fingertips ghosting under it to ease his hands onto your warm skin. you shiver in anticipation.
his thumb rubs your waist before it slowly trails up to the fringe of your bra. he’s caressing the skin under it slowly, building you up for the moment his hand ventures under. you’re leaning into him further, trying to subtly goad him into giving in.
he smirks into the kiss, thumb sliding under the hem. but a loud, eager knock makes you both jolt apart.
before you can even comprehend the situation fully, you’re already backing away from him and adjusting your clothing, smoothening everything over.
jing yuan is watching you fondly, a tinge of smugness swimming beneath his eyes.
“state your name and business.” he calls out, eyes still on you.
“it’s yanqing, sir!”
you’re making eye contact with him now, your expression filled with flushed fury. “i cant believe you!” you whisper shouted before grabbing the small hand mirror that yanqing left on his desk to check your appearance.
your eyes nearly bulge out of your sockets once you catch sight of your swollen lips. “y—you..! how— i..!!! ugh!!!” you sputter, pointing between yourself and your general before giving up.
your general does nothing but chuckle at your misery. “i got too carried away.”
“don’t you always!?” you growl, your finger against your lips as you somehow try to get rid of the red puffiness.
“general?” yanqing calls from outside.
due to your conversation, you both nearly forgot he was even there.
before jing yuan could call him in, you’re stalking towards the door. your hand grabs the handle, but before you pull it open, you look back to your general who’s smirking. “you better do your work, jing yuan. or this will never happen again!” you both sensed the lie in your tone, but one of you was too surprised to point it out.
you were only given a mere second to revel in his baffled look before you walked out, letting yanqing in.
“[name]!” yanqing calls happily. “can i come over to your place tonight?” he asks, face glowing.
you smile, patting his head. “of course you can. i’ll cook your favorite too, alright?”
yanqing cheers, “alright!! i’ll train as hard as i can, so can you please make dessert too?”
you give him a noise of confirmation, smiling at his joy before you’re walking off.
jing yuan could only watch the scene in envy, glaring down yanqing as he practically skips into the office humming a tune of “[name]’s making me dessert~”.
yanqing turns to his general, brow quirking at his troubled expression.
“what got your panties in a twist?”
“nothing.” he grits out. you had the audacity to call him by his name in your beautiful alluring voice, and invite yanqing to your house, in front of him!! next time he saw you it was more than your lips he was taking for his own.
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a/n : anyone wanna be added to my jing yuan taglist? he’s been growing on me a lot so expect more of him too ^v^
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bet-on-me-13 · 1 year
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Danny runs for Mayor P.2
kgned3Part 1
Some more snippets of the Gotham Mayor Danny AU!
...
Danny would absolutely try to hire some of the Rouges as his Mayoral Cabinet, I can just imagine Waylon Jones, the Killer Croc, in a Suit and Slacks sitting in a the Mayors Office while awkwardly holding his resume.
Danny: So, Mr. Jones, why do you think we should hire you? Waylon: Well sir, I have something of a reputation and I feel like I would be an amazing Bodyguard. Danny: OK, one question though. What is your opinion on Clowns? Waylon: I don’t like them. Danny: Hired!
...
Danny: Now, Mr Nygma, what do you think you would bring to my office? Edward: Well sir, I am fairly well known for my expert planning and timing skills. Also I can give you fun riddles whenever you want! Danny: Hmmm, that’s definitely a good point. One question, if needed, will you attack a clown on sight? Edward: Yes? Danny: Hired!
...
Danny: Now, I can see that you used to have a very reputable resume Mr. Dent. Harvey: Thank you sir. Danny: I can’t see any reason to refuse your application, but I do have one question. Do you like Clowns? Harvey: Uhm...yes? Danny: I am sorry dir, but I am going to have to reject your application for a job in the Mayors office. Mr Jones, please escort this man out 
...
Danny would absolutely do an amazing job in decreasing the crime rate, just by virtue of the fact that his very presence is destabilizing the Curses put on the City.
But at the same time, his policies are also very efficient, based on Gen Z Humor/Ideas
Danny: As my new Law states, every year the most rich person in the City will be forced to give up 70% of their assets to Charity. You can avoid this by donating as much as possible in the weeks leading up to the Sacrifice Day, whoever donates the most is exempt from the choosing even if they are the Richest, we will then move on to the second Richest, and so on Reporter: Sir, isn’t this just the “Winner Of Capitalisms” Prompt from Tumblr? Danny: Yes.
...
Batman: Why did you just pass a Law that states that all Vigilantes are given the right to kill? Danny: Because I accidentally hired every villain in Gotham, so now there is nobody to try and bribe me. And if nobody tries to bribe me, then nobody realizes that I will only accept bribes if the Joker is dead, like I said in my Campaign. I know that you guys have a no-kill rule, but I know at least one of you who would jump at the chance  Batman: *realizes that Dick has already killed the Joker once, Jason is actively attempting to every day, Tim is chaos incarnate and would do it to feel included, and Damian just really wants to let loose* Well played...
...
Danny: Vlad, I am serious. Leave me alone or I will put you in Soup Jail for 3 months! Vlad: FINE! I’ll just go possess another Billionaire to force them to give me their company again Batman, listening from outside the window: What the f-
...
Danny in every conversation with the Batfamily: I re-respect your decision to not tak-take a life...but I must insist you kill the Joker...for the good of the peephol-People! He is not a good inf-influence on this city and he must be des...troyed. Batman: *Wondering why he sounds like he is reading from a script* Um, I don’t think thats a good idea? Lady Gotham: *Standing behind Batman with some Cue Cards, trying to communicate with her Knights through Danny* *Thumbs Up* Danny: Also I wanted to say that you need to- oh um, ok- to get over the deaths of your parents and grieve in a healthy way instead of adopting every child you see. You are doing a great job kid, parentheses, do not read this par- Oh-Oops. Batman: Hm. I’m not even going to question that anymore.
...
Tag List:
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calisources · 6 months
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ROYAL, FANTASY ROMANCE AND SPICE. all these quotes and sentences are taken from different sources as well some made by myself. change pronouns and places and names as you see fit. some of these are heavy with tension or sexual intention, though nothing too graphic, but you are warned some of these are full of spice and forbidden romance. if you have more suggestions, send them to me and i will add them to this post.
ACTIONS AND SCENARIOS. add +reverse to change the roles.
(royal ball): our muses dance at a royal ball. 
(captive in the tower): sender is held captive and receiver helps save them.
(arranged marriage): our muses are thrown together into an arranged marriage.
(childhood betrothal): arranged to wed since being children, our muses finally meet days before the wedding.
(ward): send is a ward at the receiver's house/home. 
(stolen kiss): sender kisses receiver before a battle, away from prying eyes.
(mystery knight): sender is unknown at court and receiver wants to know them further.
(secrets): our muses are together in a secret relationship as their families wouldn’t approve. 
(brother’s keeper): sender is receiver’s brother's best friend. Sender has been harboring a crush since they met.
(taken): sender is taken prisoner by receiver on their ship at sea after a shipwreck.
(horse ride): there is only one horse trope, our muses have to ride together.
(guard): sender is made receiver’s guard and they have to travel/spend time together.
(no one is here to help): receiver is taken to sender as their captive.
(aftermath): after a battle/war, sender and receiver reunite thinking the other was dead. 
(my prince): sender falls for receiver, who is the realm’s prince/princess.
(tourney): sender gives the receiver their favor during a tournament.
(piece of me): sender ties a piece of cloth on receiver’s hand to wrap around a wound.
(you left): sender left receiver years ago, now reunited, receiver is upset.
(last kiss): unsure if they will see each other again, sender kisses the receiver before distracting enemies so receiver can escape.
(under my protection): sender proclaims himself receiver’s protector while receiver is traveling/captive.
(starcrossed): our muses find out they have to marry other people and they reunite at night.
(we were in love once): our muses were together in a relationship in their youth and now see each other after years.
(my castle is yours): sender pledges their castle as a fortress to keep the receiver safe.
(gentle touch): sender heals the receiver of their wounds and inevitably grows close.
(magic): receiver is a being of magical properties and sender finds themselves enthralled by them.
(my paramour): receiver becomes sender’s mistress.
(the bane of my existence): our muses never got along and yet, they harbor feelings for one another after a heated argument.
(maze): our muses lose their guards in a maze and they find each other alone.
(it was always you): our muses are childhood friends about to get married.
(to make peace): from opposite houses, our muses are now married to bring peace.
(corner): behind a corner of the great hall, sender corners receiver after seeing them dance with someone else.
(advisor): receiver works as an advisor for sender, despite objection around court.
(rags to riches): receiver is a bastard now made legitimate and people around the realm came to meet them. Sender is one of them.
(at your service): receiver is a lady in waiting/personal guard to sender’s sibling and a romance develops.
(saved): sender is saved by receiver, who is a healer/witch.
SENTENCES AND QUOTES:
“You are enough to drive a saint to madness or a king to his knees.”
“He didn't marry you to become king. He became king because he wanted to marry you.”
“Little by little, the old world crumbled, and not once did the king imagine that some of the pieces might fall on him.”
“I want you—but I don’t want this."
“Rule with the heart of a servant. Serve with the heart of a king.”
“There’s a fine line between gossip and history, when one is talking about kings.”
“I will not share you."
“Well, princess, let’s see what you’re made of.”
“She added the flowers and incense to help mask your own scent.”
“Your eyes betray you. Your body even responds to mine no matter that you’re angry. You want me.”
“He is my ruin. My complete and utter devastation.”
“Just how long have you been sticking it to the girl who’s like a little sister to us?”
“There’s a certain sort of beauty in submission.”
“My story hasn’t been written yet, but I know it begins with you.”
“You will love this man. Do you understand? You will love him, serve him, and obey him in all things. This is your duty to me and to France. Am I clear?’
“She didn’t need a man. She wanted one.”
“Your wish is my command, my queen.”
“It is legal because I wish it.”
“Rejection is an opportunity for your selection.”
“She's magic, Cassandra. A single flower blooming in an endless desert.”
“Do you really want to put yourself through this? Is loving me really enough to endure everything you have to just to be with me?"
“Make no mistake.You are under my protection now, and I protect what is mine.”
“But perhaps, when you sleep, you will dream of me."
“I cannot come with you, my prince.”
“This woman was consuming him, bit by bit.”
“Call him. Claim him. Speak his Name. Make him thine before all others.”
“You are the harbor of my soul’s journeying.”
“We love what we love. We don’t need to justify it to anyone… not even to ourselves.”
“To love something despite. To know the flaws and love them too. That is rare and pure and perfect.”
“The heart is neither given nor stolen. The heart surrenders.”
“Give yourself to me.”
“I ask for so little. Just fear me, love me, do as I say and I will be your man to serve.”
“I married you to stop the bloodshed, and you keep killing. When will it be enough- when?”
“Marriage is a marriage- love or arranged. Both require the same level of commitment.”
“We are trapped by convention and must marry another.”
“We had both accepted the unwritten rule of arranged marriage: love, if it arrived at all, would bloom with time.”
“Be with me. Want me. Stay with me.I don’t know how to be without you.”
“We were doomed from the start. A lost cause. A losing battle.”
“Mr. Larsen, if you make me cry at my own coronation ball, I’ll never forgive you.”
“You are my very own forbidden fruit.”
“I’m scared, but I’d rather have one real day with you than a lifetime of misguided security.”
“And you, are mine.”
“You think a courtship and a hunt are two separate things. They are not.”
“I will share him with you, I cannot lose him.”
“Why must you resist me so dearly? When you tremble under my touch?”
“You must be made of magic itself. Your touch is warm.”
“One day, I will be able to leave you.”
“Did he touch you? Did you enjoy the way he held you across the room?”
"I will be your husband. I will take a solemn vow to protect you until death do us part. Do you understand what that means?"
“And why, pray tell, should I make it easy?'
"You are the bane of my existence--and the object of all of my desires. Night and day I dream of you."
"I did not ask for this--to be plagued by these feelings."
“I have loved you at every dance, on every walk, and every time we've been together. You must feel it in your heart, because I do."
“Because,by the time I’m done, prayer is the only thing that is going to save you.”
“Suppose I told everyone that I had seduced you.”
“You’re not planning to refuse me, are you?”
'Tell me if I do anything you don't like.”
“Say you do not care for me. Tell me you feel nothing and I will walk away.”
“I am a gentleman. My father raised me to act with honor, but that honor is hanging by a thread that grows more precarious with every moment I spend in your presence.”
“If I wed your sister, it will bind me and you together for eternity, and I will spend every day of my marriage wanting you, dreaming of you, dreading the day when my last thread of honor finally snaps.”
“I have never met anyone like you. It is maddening, how much you consume my very being.”
“That scent. It has remained imprinted on my mind ever since that night of the conservatory ball on that terrace. Lilies.”
“I desire you. I burn for you. I can't sleep at night because I want you."
“You’re the center of a star, and the force of gravity keeps pulling me closer, and I don’t give a damn that I’m about to be incinerated.“
“Whatever bad thing happened to you, it hasn’t made you less beautiful. There’s beauty in darkness, too.”
“I belong to you. Only you…I’ll always be yours. No matter what.”
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Tiny Brainrot about Argentie.
He is your devoted knight. He will do everything to protect you and satisfy your needs. Even if those needs end up with your hungry p*ssy eating his c*ck.
To the unaware public, Argenti indeed plays the part of your devoted knight oh-so-well. Wherever you are, he's bound to be within close proximity, always keeping a watchful eye over you and a hand on his sword at the slightest hint of trouble. He escorts you everywhere, even when you insist that you'll be fine all by yourself—Argenti is surprisingly stubborn when he wants to be. Like the devoted knight he is, he will present you with the most beautiful rose he could find, tucking it behind your ear as he murmurs the most beautiful of words to you. If he's feeling up to it, he may even bring your knuckles to his lips for a gentle peck. Whatever you may need, he is quick in quenching that need as soon as possible. Even if the two of you are an unlikely pair, it's undeniable that the strange chemistry is what ultimately keeps the two of you so close. In more ways than one.
Argenti, as your sweet devoted knight, was indeed very willing to satisfy your needs. He just hadn't anticipated that your needs would wind up with him getting sucked dry by your mouth in some back alley like some pervert. And from there, it didn't take long for you and him to wind up fucking like animals in heat, moaning and gasping as you clung onto each other. Now it's like routine, with you dragging Argenti off to some unoccupied corner, grinding down on his cock, and milking it for its worth. His cock just hits all the right places, rubbing right up against your g-spot and stretching you nicely. and if you pushed him deep enough, the tip would even bump up against your cervix♡ Your pussy has molded into his cock's shape by now, how could you possibly be satisfied by anyone else but him? Not that you want anyone else, Argenti's the only man you'd ever have eyes for♡
"My lady—please, ngh, please slow down," Argenti clenches his eyes shut tight, choking out a groan as you grind your hips down into his pelvis. He has to take a moment, hands squeezing your supple ass to steady himself amidst your frantic movements. Your pussy is devouring his cock hungrily, massaging and assaulting it from all sides without any mercy, desperate to be filled with his seed. You just can't get enough of his dick, it's just so good..!♡ "If you move so hastily, we, we will be discovered..." "So? Let 'em find us. Then they can know who's fuckin' me so good♡" It's true! There'd be no way to dispute your relationship if people knew that Argenti was sloppily fucking his beloved lady and was loving every second of it. "They'll even hear me moaning your name too♡" "You..." he looks exasperated at your provocative statement, no doubt about to scold you again for your behavior. Ugh, why can't he get rid of that stupid noble mindset for a minute and just admit that he loves it when you admit to being such a cockslut for him! So as payback, you clench up your walls real tight, and Argenti moans oh so beautifully. "Hehe, you gonna cum? Good♡ Make sure to cum inside, that way everyone knows that my pussy belongs to you♡"
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evanthefunky · 2 years
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Brisrol Renaissance Faire I love you <3
I haven't had a good day in so long. This summer has been rough.
I went with one of my best friends and then two other people that we went with during Ren Con and like. It was just. Phenomenal. My face hurt from smiling so much. My heart is full of joy.
Good, joyful memories. Not just happy. Truly joyful. Gratitude abounds
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eratosmusings · 27 days
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Loyalty (I)
Daemon Targaryen x Hightower!reader
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summary: the king decides it's time for his brother to produce more targaryen heirs. who better than another hightower daughter to carry them?
warnings: adults only, all characters over 18, dubcon smut in later chapters, arranged marriage, abortion allusion (moon tea), coercion, terrible parenting
word count: 2.3k
dividers
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“I won’t allow it.”
“You won’t allow it?” Viserys asks with an air of frigid humor. “Who are you to deny your king what he has commanded?”
Otto seethes, decades of practiced court manners faltering under the demand. “Forgive me, Your Grace, but she is my daughter. I will not have her married off to a man whose love of violence and debauchery trails him like a shadow. She is a pious child. To marry her to Daemon is—“
“A blessing. She will marry a prince and a valiant knight.”
The other men at the table are silent. They'd expected talks of reinforcing the kingdom's claim on the Stepstones or of quelling rumors that had cropped up of Daemon corrupting his young niece in a brothel a year prior. The king commanding a marriage between Otto Hightower's youngest daughter—his only child from a tragically short second marriage—is an unpleasant surprise.
"He is already married."
Viserys gives a taut smile. "Daemon's marriage to Lady Royce has been annulled. By royal decree and with the blessing of the High Septon. It is in the best interest of Westeros that the Targaryen line remains vast and strong and it has been decided your daughter will do what Lady Royce did not."
Otto's face falls in disbelief. He's heard nothing of it. This had been set up to corner him. "She is a child."
"She is nearly four years older than Alicent was when we wed. The queen has proven your daughters are strong vessels for Targaryen children."
"It is different. She is different. She is not as strong as Alicent."
The king shakes his head. "I will hear no more discussion of this. She will wed Daemon and this feud between the two of you shall end once and for all.”
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Alicent’s touch is feather-light as she takes hold of your hands. Her eyes wander across your form, taking in the exquisite ivory gown. Its crimson embroidered dragon along the skirt a special request from your soon-to-be husband. “You look beautiful, sister.”
You can say nothing to your half-sister, barely able to retain the tears brimming in silence. A fortnight was all you’d been given to prepare to wed the vilest creature in Westeros. Daemon Targaryen was all you could have ever hoped against in a husband.
Your father stands tall behind Alicent, head held high. "The image of the Maiden herself."
A choked sob escapes you at his words. This marriage was punishment by the Seven for every sin you'd ever committed. For the impure thoughts you'd had of knights. The white lies you'd spoken to save yourself the wrath of Septa Agerrea. The gambling you'd participated in when you’d bet your favorite embroidery needle in a game of cards with Lysa Tyrell. Had you only followed the Faith more faithfully, this torture would not be yours to endure.
“I believe it is time to take your place with the king, Your Grace,” your father says.
Alicent hesitates with glossy eyes. She draws you into a tight hug and whispers an apology and how much she loves you. You have the faintest memory of her wedding to the king a few years before. The happy sister who’d spent hours braiding your hair when the handmaidens failed to do it properly disappeared into a hardened queen round with child seemingly overnight. The smiles and giggles you’d shared daily turned to fond, distant memories. She withdraws a moment later, wiping at her face.
When the door shuts your father moves behind you. You watch in the ornate mirror as he drapes the green maidencloak of House Hightower across your shoulders. The new burden's weight feels uncomfortable.
He returns to stand before you, his expression sorrowful. "I am sorry, my sweet child, for this atrocity. You deserve far better.”
“I could have saved myself this fate had I been less worldly and become a Septa.” Your palm wipes at the tear that had fallen.
He cups your cheek. “Perhaps. But we cannot lament on what we could have done. Indeed we must focus instead on your duty to the realm.”
“To be a good wife,” you state. It was what he had raised you to be.
“No, sweet child,” he says softly, “I fear that I must ask something far more difficult of you. For your duty to the realm must supplant your duty in marriage.”
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The wedding takes place in a haze. You tremble, stumble over words, and can not meet the eyes of your now husband nor the Septon. Soon you would betray them both.
For the good of the realm.
You do not eat or drink through the feast. You barely speak. You think you might have danced, though all you remember of it is a blurring background and an embroidered dragon that matches your own. It had stared at you accusingly.
“Shall I call for the bedding ceremony to begin, brother?” the king slurs loudly. If there had been anything in your stomach, it surely would have come out now. It was one vile thought to have him touch you. But to have other men undress you as well?
Your hand is pulled from your lap, enclosed in another twice its size, callous and rough against your skin. For the first time that day you look at your husband. You’d never seen him this close. The lavender gaze cannot have been of this world. It’s too vibrant, too knowing. “Too many of the men here have wandering hands. I’d hate to spill blood on such a blessed day.” His lips brush against your hand. “My sweet wife should not have to endure such tragedy.”
The king responds dismissively. Something of disappointing guests, but to do as he pleases. Daemon takes it as a dismissal and pulls you from your seat. The last thing you hear is the call from many about bloody sheets.
Perhaps the Mother has decided to take mercy on you. For you cannot breathe as the doors to the prince’s chambers close behind you. Death can take you before he can.
He stands in front of the fire, pouring some drink into a goblet. The flickering orange light suits him. Like he was born for flames. “You must relax. There is nothing for you to fear from me.” A lie. There was much to fear from him.
A booming knock echoes through the room.
“Enter.”
Two servants carrying trays of bread and fruit enter. Then they are gone just as swiftly. The door closes once more.
“You must eat,” he says, taking your hand once more and leading you to a small table. You sit and a piece of bread is offered. You take it and, after an expectant nod, take a bite. It’s still warm and soft. You take another bite. And another.
It’s gone quickly. Too quickly for a lady. A bowl of berries clatters softly in front of you. You pick at it slower, though not as slowly as you’d like. They are sweet. Perfectly ripe.
“Would you like some wine?”
Despite the juice of berries coating your tongue, your mouth is dry as you speak for the first time since you’d said your vows. “Yes, please.”
“So well mannered.” A smug smile spreads across his face as he raises his goblet and sips. He reaches over and sets it down beside the half-empty bowl. “I forgot to have them retrieve another cup.”
The crimson red liquid ripples. A challenge.
“You are very gracious, my Prince. Thank you.” You lift it by the stem and drink. It was stronger than you’ve ever had before. The taste takes you aback, coughing as it soaks your tongue. Hastily you set the cup back down.
"I take it you don't often indulge in Dornish Reds."
"No, never."
His head cocks to the side appraisingly. "I suppose such a thing has never been offered to you before. Not within the confines of your father's authority. He has given you a rather sheltered life."
A prickly heat seeps up your neck. "My father did not confine or shelter me. He has only ever guided me to live as virtuously as the Seven wished for all their children to live.”
“How very kind of him to not let you endure the same vices as himself.”
You blink, his words sinking in. The implication that your father is a drunkard stings. He isn't, but you don’t fight his accusation. Selfishly, you do not wish to defend your father. Instead, you pluck a berry from the bowl, hoping to end the conversation entirely.
"Are the berries quite good?"
You nod, not wanting to speak again.
"Might I have one?" When you go to pick up the bowl, he stops you. "Pick me out the best one."
The best one? The bowl is still half full. Which berry was the best? Would he be disappointed if you picked one he did not like? Or one that was not ripe enough? Not sweet enough? What would he do to you if he disliked the one you chose?
It was the largest blackberry that you finally settle on, prepared to hear how terrible the choice had been as you hold it out to him. He doesn't simply take it. He leans over the table, taking the berry and your fingers into his mouth.
The act is heinously intimate. It leaves you frozen and breathless as he pulls away, his eyes alight in devious amusement. "I'm not sure which taste I prefer. The berry's or your's."
Fire spreads across your cheeks. You flinch away, embarrassed. In the escape effort your arm knocks against the goblet. To your horror, it clatters against the table. The liquid sloshes across your front, staining the white gown.
The crimson seems to seep from your womb, condemning you for something you had yet to do. You paw at the stain as the chair clatters on the ground from the force with which you'd stood.
Tears brim in your eyes as it continues to spread.
“There's no need to fret. It is only wine.”
“I have desecrated it.” The tears have not stopped falling and your hands have not stopped scrubbing at it with your fingers. “The stain will never come out.”
“It is only a dress.” He cups your face, encouraging you to meet his gaze. It searches for some understanding.
He would never understand.
“I am so sorry, my Prince.”
He shushes you softly and places a kiss against your forehead. This was the monster? The vile, unholy beast whose every action was an affront to the Seven? This man who had shown you nothing but kindness?
You cry harder.
He is not the monster.
You are.
You aren’t sure how long you cry. But he holds you through it all. He speaks little more than a few consoling phrases, but it is more than you deserve. His presence, arms around you, kisses on your hair. All of it more than you deserve.
You’re finally calm, only left with sniffles, when he says, “We should get the dress to the washwomen before the stain sets.” What good would it do? The stain can never be removed from your soul. Still you agree and turn for him.
His fingers are swift as they loosen the strings of your bodice. Practiced. He is practiced. Behind closed doors you assume, but there were numerous tales of his public debauchery. It has been gossiped that he prefers the thrill of open affairs and touches of multiple women.
“Why did you refuse the bedding ceremony?”
He pauses. “Did you wish to have one?”
“No,” you say quickly. “But given your…tendencies I…I thought…” A quiet hum has your words trailing off.
His work continues, though slower. “You are not a whore in a brothel.”
“Neither is your niece and yet...”
Air blows across your neck as he chuckles. “Has my pious little wife been gossiping about the chastity of the Crowned Princess?”
Your lungs seize at the realization of what you’d just said. It’s treason. Questioning her virtue is treason.
“Relax, jaesa.” His hands slip between the shoulders of your shift and the loose gown, pushing the sleeves down your arms. “I took you under my protection today. You may speak freely to me.”
“I,” you hesitate, freeing your hands of the garment, “I had heard that a year ago you snuck the princess from the castle and—“
He bunches the fabric at your waist and tugs. “Had my way with her in some brothel?”
“Yes.”
The gown struggles for a moment, snagging on the curve of your behind. Another tug and it is a pile around your feet. “My niece wished to see King’s Landing. I showed her and returned her to the castle, still a fair maiden like yourself.”
“Of course.”
“You doubt me?”
“No, my Prince.”
"It would do a great disservice to our union to begin it with lies." He prompts you to turn and hesitantly you do. He is shorter than your father, yet his presence is as commanding. More so. It makes you aware of how thin the fabrics of your shifts were when his gaze drifts down. "My niece's heart belongs elsewhere. As do my desires."
His touch is gentle as he cups your cheek, but the feeling's it stirred are rough and uncertain. Bordering on traitorous.
“Shall I call a servant to fetch the dress?” The words waver. You wonder if they’re comprehensible at all.
They are, it seems as he rejects the offer and slips out the door himself with the dress. The reprieve from his watchful, astute eye is welcome. You fall to your knees at the edge of the bed and recite the prayer your father had taught you minutes before you’d been led down the aisle.
Warrior, give me strength for what I must do. It is for the good of the realm.
Mother, forgive me for what I must do. It is for the good of your faithful servants.
Stranger, lead my children to peace. It is for the good of their innocent souls.
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a/n: all your thoughts and reblogs are appreciated 🌺
join my taglist
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