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dragon-ascent · 4 months

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Hello, how are you ? Since you have open request I’d like to ask something : How do you think our favorite dragon Zhongli will react to his wife being accused of lying because they have corrected an historian on a false fact about Morax ?

Since English isn’t my first language I’m afraid this is not clear, I’m sorry.

Ooh, I like it, here's what I've come up with <3

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The tension is palpable and certainly not what you were hoping to land yourself in when you accepted Zhongli's request to be his plus-one aboard the Pearl Galley.

"Forgive me, Mr. Changying, but that's where I'll have to correct you," you tell the stocky man before you. The food and drinks on the table are long-untouched. "Rex Lapis didn't take on such a grand ten-headed and eight-armed form to exterminate those sea creatures. In fact, he personally went door to door to trap them in little Geo contraptions, even having a bit of trouble with the.... particularly wrigglier ones."

Changying's eyes practically roll into the back of his head. "Do you truly believe that rubbish just because that is what's commonly peddled? That the Geo archon, who could raise the mountains and calm the tides without breaking a sweat, found the task of getting rid of tiny sea creatures tedious and challenging?"

Sighing, you say, "Even the gods are subject to being less-than-perfect in their methods. And besides, the damn things were inside people's houses - brute strength would not have been handy at all. Rex Lapis needed to be careful and meticulous so that none of his people were harmed. Hence the Geo cages."

Despite how neatly you'd presented your counterpoint, Changying merely scoffs as he adjusts his glasses. He jabs a finger at you accusingly. "You're lying, just like everyone else," he growls, "and you clearly have no respect for our late archon! Do you even like him?"

Your breath nearly hitches in your throat as you gaze up at him in shock. "Ex...excuse me?"

The man pulls no punches as he continues his rant against you. "How can you so blindly believe what the masses think? Maybe if you were a real Rex Lapis follower like me, you would learn some critical thinking skills and draw more accurate conclusions!"

"I'm afraid I am on the side of my partner here, Mr. Changying," cuts in Zhongli, placing an arm on your shoulder. Relief floods your veins as you let out the breath you'd been holding. "They are correct in explaining that Rex Lapis had to go the simplistic route when dealing with Liyue's sea creature infestation."

Changying's eyes grow wide. "Forgive me, Mr. Zhongli," he murmurs, and you're not ignorant to the way his tone mellows out and becomes more respectful as he continues to speak. "I didn't know you were also in agreement of that story. But let me explain why he likely-"

"It is alright for you to have your own interpretations of events, especially for a being with an expansive history that is always being debated over," says Zhongli calmly, poised as always, "but when these interpretations are unrealistic and you still try to present them as fact...while belittling other people, no less...the line must be drawn somewhere, yes?"

Changying blanches, stammering, "Er, but don't you think Rex Lapis would appreciate deviating thought processes more, especially when..."

Zhongli's eyes narrow ever so slightly, his visage still calm as a pond. "Perhaps so, but what he would not appreciate is his people trying to one-up others in an attempt to prove they are his most loyal followers." Your husband glances at you. "I know my partner well, and they love Rex Lapis dearly. Not only do you accuse them of lying, you also undermine the love they hold for the deity."

His hand brushes against yours and he interlaces his fingers with you, giving a gentle, reassuring squeeze. You smile softly.

Changying scrambles for words, useless excuses and explanations that hardly justify him being on his high horse.

Zhongli, unamused, fires his parting shot. "Far be it for an ordinary man like myself to tell you what to do, but here is some advice: gather reliable citations for your claims, provide succinct evidence, and be respectful of those with opposing views, and perhaps then Rex Lapis would consider you a favorite of his."

With that, Zhongli escorts you away from the scene, knowing full well you will always be his favorite by far - the approving smile he gives you conveys that perfectly.

#sini writes #zhongli #genshin impact #zhongli x reader #genshin x reader #rex lapis

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filthyslashertoad · 10 months

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The Slashers & Miscellaneous Reacting to You Breaking Your Leg

Patrick Bateman(You already know)

Asks you if you want sparkling water, not painkillers, or comfort, just sparkling water.

If you're in a "relationship" with him, he may bring you his signed record from Huey Lewis and The News so you have something to occupy yourself with.

Michael Myers

Tries to avoid you at all costs because he feels like he might accidentally hurt you.

Even when you're sleeping, he'll sleep somewhere else during that time because he doesn't want to move suddenly and risk you injuring yourself more. (Sympathetic Mikey)

Pyramid Head

Just quietly watches you.

Brings you things that he thinks may help you or that you'll enjoy.

Leon Kennedy

Doesn't really know how to empathize with you properly because he doesn't want to come off as an asshole.

He resorts to sending you little Post-it notes and cards that have horse jokes on them. (Don't ask why they're horses specifically)

(Btw, Chris and Carlos suggested the idea)

Carlos Oliveira

Refuses to leave your side .

Tries his hardest not to cling to you.

He's a super sympathetic boy, so he somewhat blames himself for your injury and feels liable for it. (Pls reassure him)

Poly!Ghostface

Stu brings markers to sign your cast and while he's doing that, Billy is in the corner stressing and overthinking.

Stu draws dinosaurs and little skulls all over your cast, if you're lucky he may even draw one of your favorite horror movie characters, though it has to be labeled because nobody knows who it is.

Heisenberg

Tries to glamorize your cast by making a metal one that has spikes and different decals all over it.

It ends up being a nuisance and he almost stabs himself in the leg when he hugs you.

Hellboy

Keeps a close eye on you for the duration of your injury.

Develops a bit of an attitude when people try to bother you when you're resting or in pain.

Danny Johnson

Sends you dumb articles that loosely or have nothing to do with the fact that you broke your leg and when you ask him why tf he sent it, he just says, "I wanted to make your day better😊"

When he thinks that you're upset with him he shows up with a cast of his own and shouts "TWINS!!! NOW WE CAN GET BETTER TOGETHER."(No he didn't actually break his leg, and yes he will be using it as an excuse to be lazy)

Hannibal Lecter

Becomes your own professional nurse.

Nurse Hannibal is now at your service. Prescribes you any and all medication you need and gives you advice on how to heal as fast as possible.

Takes time off of work to take care of you. (It's not often that he gets to pamper people this way and he enjoys doing it for you)

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lamemaster · 7 months

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Ways to Coax Your Beloved

Pairing: Glorfindel x Reader

Genre: Romance, fluff (i swear) , sprinkle of angst

Summary: What began as a minor disagreement now feels like an insurmountable chasm between you two. Never before had an argument lasted so long.

AN: written directly on Tumblr interface this is my mania. Enjoy!

"I've brought us some snacks," you carefully balance the tray on the balcony railing. "Cakes, tea, cookies, crackers, cream rolls – I've got everything." He remains facing away from you, his back tense and unyielding to your words.

"Glorfindel," you take a hesitant step closer, your hand hovering in the air. But before you can say more, he disappears once again. This has been the pattern for a week, the longest and most trying week of your life.

What began as a minor disagreement now feels like an insurmountable chasm between you two. Never before had an argument lasted so long. Your beloved simply did not care to hold on to grudges for long.

Sighing, you lifted the tray, contemplating an excuse that wouldn't draw the pitying gazes of the kitchen staff.

"How do you coax a sulking elf?" Erestor looks up from his book. You had never really conversed much with him before this. There was never a reason to. "Specifically a thousands of years old being whose been born twice and is quite a legend."

Much to your surprise, Erestor does not find your humor hilarious. Leave for slight amusement in his eyes there is little appreciation for your jest.

"I would rather you not discuss this with me," the stern looking elf replies as he simply turns back to his tomes. Yikes! Awkwardly swinging your arms you try to plan for a slightly less awkward exit. "Ah yes," picking up the closest book you plan for your emergency exit from the unforgiving company, "I would like to get this book."

With another scathing look directed your way, Erestor meticulously wrapped your borrowed book in a fancy-looking cloth. "Keep it away from any water, heat, or dirt. Any damage is unacceptable," he instructed curtly.

You solemnly nodded, understanding the gravity of his instructions. "Sounds good," you responded with a casual tone, but Erestor's raised eyebrow reminded you that casualness wasn't his forte.

As you turned to leave, you almost collided with the bookshelf, which seemed to have crept up on you. "Oof," you muttered, swaying your way out of the room.

Then, Erestor's voice halted your steps. "Try Asfaloth," he suggested.

With a wide grin, you turned around and threw a jolly salute to Erestor, who had already returned to his books as if nothing had changed.

Armed with Erestor's invaluable intel, you ventured to the stables. Before arriving there, you made sure to thoroughly search your quarters, Glorfindel's rooms, and other frequently visited areas of the dwelling. Finally, you descended to the stables, where your beloved's horse awaited.

"Asfaloth, my boy, how I've missed you!" Your heartfelt enthusiasm was met with an equally excited neigh from the elegant white stallion. Despite towering over you, Asfaloth possessed a temperament that invited nurturing from anyone.

Performing a playful dance with light stomps to celebrate your arrival was entirely unnecessary but undeniably enjoyable. Or perhaps it was the not-so-well-concealed carrots you held in your hands that fueled your jubilant display. "Have you seen him?" you posed a question to the horse, though you knew full well that, despite elven claims, horses did not possess the gift of speech.

Approaching the gentle giant that was Asfaloth, you deftly ensured that he didn't gobble the carrots too quickly. "Patience," you murmured, adjusting the treats to prevent any mishaps. Abandoning the idea of petting the eager horse, you directed all your focus toward preventing a choking incident. You were acutely aware that Glorfindel would never forgive you if Asfaloth were to asphyxiate on your offerings.

"Where is he, Asfaloth?" Your fingers continued to caress the munching horse as you briefly entertained the idea that, just maybe, the elves were right, and Asfaloth understood you.

No fancy braiding or delicate floral decorations adorned his mane this time. "Why is he avoiding you? What have you done?" you pondered aloud, earning a pitiful whine from your equine companion. "I know, incredibly rude, I must say," you commented, deciding against attempting to braid Asfaloth's mane for the sake of both the world's sanity and your own. Instead, you settled on a comfortable pile of hay, hoping you weren't sitting on Asfaloth's dinner from the previous night.

"I brought him flowers, snacks, I even endured the drudgery of laundry, and I despise laundry. I got him books, a random flute, baked him a cake, and even learned a new card trick. But not a single reaction!" You confided in Asfaloth, desperately hoping for some form of understanding and equally enthusiastic compassion. To your relief, Asfaloth seemed to offer a sympathetic snort at just the right moment.

"You wouldn't believe it, but I even dared to venture into Erestor's little cave for intel. I'm at my wit's end, my friend," you sighed, realizing that the hay pile was indeed quite comfortable.

"I mean, I could try going to the nearest town for something, but I doubt I'd find anything better than these snobbish elves. Besides, those townsfolk charge outrageous prices," you continued, and Asfaloth leaned in, sniffing your satchel in hopes of more treats. Allowing the horse to continue his investigation, you didn't stop him. "I might dip into some of those savings. Perhaps Glorfindel would appreciate some rustic tools, eh?" Tired of Asfaloth's curiosity, you playfully tossed your empty satchel into the corner, which, for some inexplicable reason, Asfaloth chased like an adorable hound.

Tucked away in Asfaloth's cozy abode, you couldn't recall when your consciousness had faded into that blissful six-hour nap – the kind you cherished above all others. In the realm of bizarre dreams, you found yourself pinned to a pile of hay, unable to relinquish the unconventional comfort. Maybe Erestor had been onto something when he recommended Asfaloth.

However, your tranquil slumber was abruptly shattered as a metaphorical tsunami wreaked havoc on your sleeping form. Gasping, you struggled to make sense of the blurry world that seemed to whirl too rapidly for your groggy vision to follow.

"Y/n, oh Eru, you're awake!" A voice echoed through your sleep-addled and hazy thoughts.

Grasping the strong arms that held you close, you attempted to piece together the disaster that had overtaken you. "Wha-" your words faltered as you laid eyes on the tearful and sniffling elf standing before you. It was your first time witnessing such an emotional display, and you couldn't quite believe that elves were capable of producing snot.

Shaking off your mental fog, you slowly realized the peculiar predicament you were in. You were seated on a pile of hay, within the stable, beneath Asfaloth's unflinching gaze, and enfolded tightly in the embrace of the Balrog-slayer himself.

"I-I thought you left. You left like you said," Glorfindel stammered, your hands gently cupped your hiccupping beloved's face as his words tumbled out faster than you could process. "I couldn't find you… I had to… I rushed here, and then, you were… your eyes closed like that." Using your sleeves, you wiped away the relentless tears (and yes, even the snot) that streamed down his face as you sought a way to soothe Glorfindel's overwhelming emotions.

You couldn't help but internally curse yourself for your rambling that had led to this emotional upheaval. Days ago, beneath the relentless blanket of snow and impenetrable clouds, your thoughts had wandered without restraint.

"It happens, Glorfindel," you offered in an attempt to console him, "weariness of the world is unavoidable, even more so for Men. A slight change in weather can trigger it. After all, we are bound to some place beyond this." Your words seemed to offer little solace, evident from your beloved's reddening face.

"It is only natural to ponder death or the end. We Men are born with this burden, so it's not unnatural for such thoughts to sneak in. We call it 'existentialism.' But those ramblings mean nothing right now. I would not leave you, vanish into thin air, or transform into an insect just because the snow wouldn't relent." Your words carried a hint of playfulness, but there was undeniable truth in them. You would depart one day, for a fate separate from his. Before that day came, you both would endure the passage of time, a force that dared not mar the Balrog-slayer.

You harbored thoughts about evading him before he witnessed such a sight, but you knew you had some time left. A few years before you would spend eons waiting for another reunion.

But you chose not to speak of those deeper truths.

"But," you interjected, and Glorfindel perked up at the unexpected word. "I would tell everyone about this if you don't stop being an absolute grump." Just like that, the tension surrounding you both dissipated. "Imagine, 'Balrog Slayer, The Balrog Slayer,' in the stables – hmph!" Your words were cut off as Glorfindel playfully covered your face with his hand.

Even with reddened eyes and a rosy nose, your beloved looked every bit his old self. All traces of your angst and his sorrow dissipated into the slightly stinky breath of Asfaloth.

#the silmarillion #tolkien elves #silmarillion x reader #romance #fluff #glorfindel x reader #glorfindel imagine #glorfindel #human reader #asfaloth #Asfaloth is a cutie

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twisted-wonderland-shenanigans · 9 months

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Also for the monster au, would the babies in Twisted be more mature than the human babies, cuz they are technically premature cuz of their big head. Which is why we are wired with cuteness protection (or worse cuteness aggression) to protect the youngins.

The moment I see cute baby animals:

When it comes to the monsters, it depends on the species! A good chunk of them would be rather small because their parent species is designed for more than one offspring (or "litters/clutches" depending on the species).

That doesn't mean it's rare for them to have only one or two kids at a time, though! For example, if we were to go with the reptilian species like the basilisk, only a few eggs are viable while the rest are decoys. This is a defensive mechanism caused by instincts that hadn't quite faded over time now that monsters and other predatory creatures around Twisted Wonderland aren't as much of a threat as before.

Anyway, monster babies develop pretty quick compared to humans as in the past, they had to grow strong enough to learn to hunt and fend for themselves when their parents had to go out hunting or foraging. Nowadays, monsters have developed a pack/flock/herd/pod mentality, meaning they can live with their family for as long as necessary until they're ready to set out and find their own path.

Does this mean they can learn to talk faster? In a way, yes. Does this mean they still know what they're saying or doing? Not quite! For them, instincts and learned behaviors can take over before their consciousness fully emerges like it would for humans. For example, I first started becoming aware of the world and the things I was doing when I was maybe 4 or 5 years old (memory is a fickle thing), though I never understood why I knew what to call the things or people the things I was calling them--I just knew it was right.

Same concept for the monsters!

If we were to talk about which species would develop even faster, it would likely be any equine/ungulate based monster! The reason being is that--in the wild--animals such as deer and buffalo or antelope and even horses and goats have babies that learn to stand and run within minutes or even hours of being born. This is to ensure the survival of the baby and that they can keep up, which means that they wouldn't naturally know how to crawl like human babies would.

Here's a silly little comic done by Litterbox Comics over on Twitter! This basically gives a bit of a comparison on how fast the baby ungulates get to their little hooves 😂

Now, despite this, please accept this imagery of a baby goat loafing and picture baby faun Riddle loafing:

Basically, a good chunk of the monsters would have (and still can) loaf and are absolutely adorable to imagine. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm gonna practice anatomy so I can draw baby monster boys loafing because I can!

Now, as for those that have human ancestry in their DNA, I can see some monsters growing a little slower than is normal for their species with no clear explanation why. There's nothing wrong with them physically or mentally. They're just taking a little longer to develop certain motor skills or learning things differently, and new young parents might be concerned and worried.

Doctor: "There's nothing wrong. They're perfectly fine and it happens sometimes. It's perfectly normal."

In the end, they do develop into the fine (chaotic) young men we know and adore~!

#twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland monster au #twst monster au

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deadlymistletoe · 10 months

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Charming Stranger

Pairing: Aragorn x f!reader

Genre: Romance

Description: When a charming stranger helps you regain control of your horse in the woods, you don’t expect to see him again. You definitely don't expect him to be the king of Gondor.

Warnings: None

Word count: 1989

A/N: Yes, this is inspired by how Ella meets Kit and doesn’t find out he’s a prince until later in the Live Action Cinderella. And yes, the title is a pun for Prince Charming.

“Caspian please!” You pleaded with your horse as you clung to the dark stallion in an attempt to hold on as he raced through the woods.

You’d ventured to the woods near your village on the outskirts of Gondor in order to collect herbs for the apothecary you helped your parents run when a squirrel had raced past your horse’s feet and given him a fright, sending Caspian bolting through the woods as you tried, unsuccessfully, to slow him down before you could fall off.

“Woah.” You turned your head as hoofbeats that belonged to another horse sounded and a chestnut came up beside you, the dark haired rider catching the reins of your horse and murmuring words in another language as he coaxed Caspian to slow down, your legs almost touching as he drew in beside you.

Finally, the man managed to draw Caspian to a stop, and you straightened in your saddle, trying to compose yourself as the man smoothly dismounted his horse, standing in front of Caspian and stroking his nose as he continued talking in that strange but beautiful language.

It wasn’t long until Caspian had calmed down and the man turned his striking grey eyes on you.

You swallowed under his gaze, your eyes tracing his figure without your permission as you took in the dark hair to his shoulders and the long, but shapely coat he wore.

His voice, soft and slightly accented broke through your thoughts, your eyes snapping up to his face again. “Are you alright, Miss…?”

You blushed, feeling as though you’d been caught doing something you shouldn’t as you answered him. “Y/N.”

He bowed his head towards you. “A beautiful name for a beautiful woman.”

As he handed Caspian’s reins back to you and mounted his own horse, you called after him, both feeling slightly daring and worrying that he’d leave without a word if you didn’t. “And does this woman get to know the name of her saviour?”

An unreadable look crossed his face, and for a moment you worried you’d overstepped, but then he smiled. “My family calls me Estel.”

You tilted your head. “Isn’t that elvish?”

He gave a nod, but didn’t expand on why a man had an elvish name.

You wanted to keep him talking, hear his voice again, you realised as you fumbled for an excuse to keep him here for a while longer.

“Are you a ranger?” You asked, nodding towards his coat that had clearly been well worn and repaired many times over. You wondered why he continued wearing such an old item, when the tunic and trousers he wore underneath were clearly of well making.

“You could say that. May I ask why a beautiful woman is on her own in the forest?” You had a feeling he was changing the subject on purpose, but you didn’t want to push in case he left. Besides, you quite liked the way it sounded when he addressed you as a ‘beautiful’ woman, something you hadn’t heard from a man before.

“My family owns the apothecary at the nearby village. I was hunting for herbs, but a squirrel spooked my horse.” You ran your hand down Caspian’s mane as you spoke.

“And does your horse have a name?” When you told him he smiled, looking at your horse. “A fine name for a fine horse.”

You giggled as Caspian preened under the attention. At Estel’s questioning glance you elaborated. “You’re full of compliments today, aren’t you?”

He grinned, about to speak when the two of you were interrupted by distant voices, clearly calling someone although you couldn’t make out the name.

He sighed, looking back at you. “That will be my companions, I rushed off without a word when I saw you pass. I have to go.” He hesitated before leaving. “Will you be able to find your own way home?”

You nodded with a smile. “I’ve been to these woods many times, my lord.”

He nodded, but before he left he reached over and took your hand, lifting it to his lips. “My lady.”

And then he left, calling out to his companions as he disappeared into the trees.

You were still smiling when you got home.

You’d spent the past couple of weeks drying out the herbs you’d collected, and you hadn’t been able to forget the ranger you’d met that day.

Everytime he crossed your thoughts, you’d find yourself smiling, a blush covering your cheeks whenever someone questioned you about what was making you so happy.

You were once again lost in your thoughts as you sat behind the counter of the little shop, writing purchases into the book, when you heard a disturbance outside.

“The king is coming! The king is here!”

Your mouth fell open. The king had come to your village? Of course, it had been said that he was visiting all the villages and cities in Gondor, but it had already been awhile since the mysterious king had been crowned and with no news since you’d started to think he’d forgotten your little village, being so small and on the border as it was.

Clearly you were wrong. You glanced at your mother, who nodded with a smile. “Go on. I’ll watch the shop. You can tell me about this king later.”

You placed the book and ink to the side, untying your apron from your waist and dusting imaginary dirt from your dress as you rushed out the shop and onto the street.

People were already lining the dusty road, having come out of the shops lining the main street to get a glimpse of the king nobody had seen the face of.

You joined them, watching in anticipation as the group from Minas Tirith drew closer to your end of the street.

The first thought you had when you saw them was that the king’s horse looked familiar.

Then the man on the horse looked in your direction and you realised exactly why the king and his horse seemed familiar.

Grey eyes met yours and you gasped. He nodded his head to you and, still in a state of shock you stepped back, bumping into the person behind you before you turned, breaking eye contact and hurrying back to the apothecary.

You gave your startled mother no explanation as you grabbed your bag and left out the back door, making your way to your house.

It was only when you were alone in your small house that you let yourself freak out properly.

It hadn’t been a ranger who’d helped you that day, but the king! Then again, weren’t there rumors that the king had been a ranger in his youth?

Either way, you groaned when you remembered how casual you’d been with him, how you’d not so subtly admired his figure, how you’d made excuses for him to stay, how you’d borderline flirted with him after he’d called you beautiful.

There was no way you could ever face the king again.

So you made up your mind; you would stay far away from the king while he was here, staying either in the apothecary or your home, and nothing could go wrong.

Your plan worked for less than a day. The next morning, your parents were unable to run the shop, so you agreed to do it for them while they ran errands.

Less than an hour after you flipped the sign on the door to say ‘open’, you heard the bell tinkle from where you’d been sorting herbs in the back room, announcing a customer.

“Just a moment!” You called, putting the lids on the jars and grabbing a couple to take with you to put on the shelves.

“Sorry, we just got some new supplies so…” You trailed off as you looked up and came face to face with the very person you were hoping not to see. “Oh.”

A jar slipped from your hand, but apparently the king’s quick reflexes extended from out of control horses to everyday life, because he easily reached out and caught it before it hit the ground, holding it out to you.

“Thank you, your majesty.” You murmured, taking the offered jar and placing it on the counter along with the others in your arms.

He sighed. “Must you treat me like a stranger now?”

You shot him a glance over your shoulder as you arranged the jars. “Aren’t we? All I know about you is your name, and even that may not be true now.”

“I never lied to you, Y/N. Estel was my name growing up, I was once a ranger and I believe you are a beautiful woman with a fine horse.” You fought back a blush at the last past, turning to face the king with crossed arms.

“Why are you here? Surely you have better things you could be doing.”

You tilted your head as you waited for an answer. Maybe he did think you were beautiful, but if this was just a game to him then you weren’t going to be made a fool of anymore than you already had.

He swallowed. “I know this is only our second meeting, but you intrigue me. You’re beautiful, talented, you aren’t falling over yourself to make a good impression on me.”

He hesitated, meeting your gaze. “If you do not already have a suitor, I would be honoured if you’d allow me to get to know you better.”

You shook your head with a sigh, looking away. Yes, you were attracted to him, and yes, every word he uttered only made you want to get closer to him but still… “I am not of royal or noble blood. It would not be proper…”

He cut you off, moving closer to you, so you were almost touching as you lent back against the counter, gently lifting your chin to face him with a calloused hand. “I don’t care, I have never cared about that sort of thing. I spent most of my life as a ranger, so if you think something like that would bother me, you’d be wrong.”

You swallowed. “Convince me, then.”

He frowned slightly. “What?”

“Convince me that you mean what you say and this isn’t a game to you.”

He didn’t reply in words, moving his head closer to yours until your lips were only inches apart, and for a moment you thought he would kiss you, but instead he pressed a small wooden box into your hand before stepping back.

“Open it.”

You did as he said, giving him a questioning look at the round, bronze disk inside, a small blue gem in the middle and designs you’d only seen on royal armor etched around it, sitting on a pillow of tiny white petals.

“I will be here for five days, of which I will spend wooing you as any man would. After that, should you be convinced, and willing, my friend will be passing through again in four weeks time. Show him this token and he will bring you to Minas Tirith to stay as long as you wish.”

You opened your mouth, not sure what to say, but he held a finger to your lips. “I do not expect an answer now. I know you may not wish to leave your parents, but it would not be forever. You would be free to leave and return as you wished.”

“Okay.” You agreed. “You have a week to convince me.”

He grinned. “Alright. But if we’re going to do this properly, you have to call me Aragorn. No more ‘your majesty’.”

You matched his smile. “Very well, Aragorn.”

And as Aragorn kissed your hand before mounting his horse five days later, you already knew what you would do when the time to choose came.

King or ranger, this charming man who had been nothing but a stranger mere days ago had stolen your heart.

Taglist:

@fizzyxcustard @bookworm-with-coffee

#imagines #female reader #lord of the rings #aragorn #aragorn x reader #my writing

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two-white-butterflies · 1 year

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coaxed you into paradise - c. 7

Description: The life of Saera Targaryen told in four acts. She was her father's forgotten daughter, cast aside as she looked nothing like her mother. Her younger days were spent beside her uncle. Years following her marriage with Ser Harwin Strong, she catches him in an affair with her older sister. She returns to seek solace in the arms of her uncle, that she's loved all her life.

(Coaxed You Into Paradise and High Infidelity Rewrite.)

masterlist for this series

Mysaria peeks her head curiously at the closed curtains of the Princess’ chambers. She clears her throat, and all the eyes are suddenly nailed upon her. “Yes?” Leila asked as the Princess continued embroidering her gown. “Your graces, I am the princess’ new handmaiden. I was wondering if I could do anything.” Mysaria ranted, intimidated by the command Leila bore.

Daemon placed Mysaria in Saera’s household - to protect her from harm. Leila nods, recognizing the woman to be one of her husband’s ex-whores. Every man in King's Landing has had their fill of Mysaria, everyone sees her plainly but Leila sees something more - she had potential, a hidden fire.

“The princess is currently occupied, would you mind drawing her a bath?” Leila asked, the other woman bows and walks towards the bathroom.

Leila looks back at her friend to see her removing the golden dragons on her favorite gown. “What is the matter, Saera? Are they not to your liking?” Leila asked the younger woman, and she shook her head. “There is no use fashioning this when my uncle is no longer commander.” she muttered to herself.

Leila was one of the few people aware of the relationship between uncle and niece. She’s kept their secret for many nights now - and it pained her to see Saera torture herself in his absence. “He will return. He promised - and he’ll take his position back.” she comforted, hearing the trepid water and seeing the candle-lit bath from her peripheral vision.

“I know - he’s never broken a promise, but I can’t be seen wearing this.” she excused, giving up once the fabric moved with her shears. The dress was ruined, and so was her heart. A tear flows down her cheek, and Leila pulls her hand away from the gown. “Saera, calm down.” she says firmly, shaking the woman into realization.

Saera takes a shuddering breath, refusing to let another tear flow from her eyes. “Father’s already talking about getting me married. I don’t want any other lord, Leila. I only want Daemon.” she cried, throwing the gown on the floor.

The lioness’ hands delicately cup her cheek.

“Don’t lose hope,” she whispered.

—

Lyonel stared at his oldest son: Harwin was dashing and dutiful, everything that a lord could desire from his heir - but he wasn’t married yet, and that posed a threat upon their dynasty. “You are the lord commander of the gold cloaks now. Your position warrants more responsibility.” he monologues, thinking of ways to ease marriage into his son’s mind.

“I speak of marriage, my boy.” the man added, staring at his son from across the luncheon table. “Do you have someone in mind?” Lyonel inquired, and his son turned crimson red. “The Targaryen Princesses are - well, I don’t want to impose.” he quickly retracted his statement, but his father already had the idea. Lyonel smiles.

“A fine choice, the King is already considering your engagement to Princess Saera.” Lyonel informed, and Harwin’s cheeks turned carnation pink. He’s seen the Princess - all the knights cannot stop talking about her beauty. She was a coy little thing - with round cheeks and a charming smile.

He wouldn’t mind being wedded to her.

—

Viserys was in the middle of a corn-field. He could feel the prickling Pentosi sun on his back - he wasn’t wearing the clothes of his kin, he was wearing clothes made of horse leather, native to the Dothraki tribe.

“Brother,” a woman with silver hair walks towards him. She was wearing the same clothes as him. She had round cheeks and straight eyebrows - she looked like his daughter, Saera, if it weren’t for Daemon’s nose on her face. “Daenerys.” he answered, a mere spectator of the show.

‘From the white dragon’s blood - come the stallion that will mount the world.’ He remembers the string of prophecies that he mumbled when Aemma was heavy with Saera. “The Khalasar tells me that the stallion that will mount the world resides in me.” she informed him with a charming smile, holding her stomach protectively.

—

Saera takes a cautious walk towards her father’s chambers. He’s called for her - for whatever reason. After the death of her mother, he spent his days in the company of the council and his favorite daughter. Saera knew that she’d never be a son, and thus will never earn her father’s attention. “Your grace.” She bows and he turns around, forgetting about the miniature model of Old Valyria.

“My daughter,” he smiled, patting the empty seat beside him. She reluctantly sits down - finding his kindness to be strange. “I had a dream before you were born,” he began and she almost laughed out loud. He had a dream with Daegon too, and Aemma died trying to fulfill it.

“You are the white dragon whose blood come the stallion that will mount the world,” he recalled, remembering flashes of a red door. She turns to look at him, eyes prying further into his dream. “What does that mean?” she questioned, tilting her head slightly.

What plan did he have for her?

“You are my dutiful girl, you know that?” he praised while gently combing through her silky locks. “You are wise beyond your years, and aware of what is expected of you.” he began and her heart thumped furiously. It sounded familiar. He was planning to send her away.

“A lady is expected to marry and provide heirs for her husband.” he explained, her eyebrows furrowed - eyes narrowing with every word. She knew where the conversation was leading to! He was going to send her to a random lord, who she’s never met before.

“Kepa, please.” she bit the insides of her cheeks. She expected this monologue long ago - but she couldn’t believe that it was happening right now. “I don’t want to go away. I don’t want to get married.” she pleaded, holding onto his arms tightly.

Saera belonged to herself. Her name was hard to pronounce. It needed the full command of one’s voice - and like her name, she was the same. One needed the full command of her soul to have her properly.

“I love Daemon, kepa. I do not wish to marry a man that is not him.” she asserted. He takes a deep breath, preparing for another explanation. “I loved a woman before your mother. I loved her deeply and greatly - but marriage is another thing. It is the only thing that one doesn’t have a choice upon. You are given someone to marry and you must choose to love them, not the other way around.” he answered firmly, hands settling upon Saera’s shoulders.

“There is nothing you can do, that will stop your marriage with Ser Harwin Strong.” he announced, using his loud and booming voice to dominate over his daughter. A switch flickered inside the young maiden’s brain, and her body collapsed - tears flowing out like a newly opened dam.

“Please, kepa - don’t do this.” She cried like a little girl who was treated unfairly. He wraps his arms around her, burying her face in his cinnamon scented robes. “You will learn to love him, Saera - and you will love him more than Daemon. I promise that.” he cooed, rubbing small circles on his daughter’s back. “No.” she cried out, staining his robes wet.

“Please, I’ll do anything - I won’t ride Melarys and I promise to never be mean to Rhaenyra again.” she begged, wiping the tears away from her eyes to prove that she was saying the truth. “It is not the end of the world, my daughter.” he smiled, wiping her cheeks dry.

“Please.” she whispered again.

next chapter>>

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#daemon x reader #daemon targaryen x oc #daemon targaryen #daemon targaryen x reader #prince daemon targaryen #daemon targaryen headcanon #daemon targaryen fic #daemon targaryen smut #daemon targaryen imagine #daemon targaryen fanfic #daemon targaryen fluff #house targaryen #house of the dragon #daemon headcanons #daemon prince #daemonism #hotd daemon

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gothic-thoughts · 5 months

Text

Lost and Found

(Happy Thanksgiving Yall)

Kyoujurou Rengoku x Black Fem Reader Angst (fluff)

RoyalAU, Princess!Reader, FriendstoLoversAU

CW: frostbite, implied parent death, Shinjurou is emperor, childhood friends

Word Count: 1057 (give or take)

My weak legs twitch, sending a spike of pain up my spine. I have to move, or I'll freeze to death. The faint sound of galloping draws near, now with the metal clanking to the rhythm of the horse's steps. Tears stream down my face as I try to scream for help only to have a small whimper rip from my tired and parched throat. The loud trotting slows to a stop no more than 10 feet away before something heavy drops to the gravel and quickly crunches toward me.

"My lady!" He crouches next to me and pulls my freezing body against his chest, "What's happened to you? Were you--?"

My tiara slips from my head and clangs against the pebbles of the road. Through my blurry vision, I watch as his worried gaze snaps to the headdress then back at my reddened face, horror consuming his eyes.

"A...a princess?" He whispered, "Who's done this to you?! Never mind; let's get you to safety. You'll be safe at the palace, you have my word."

Palace? He settles his grip behind my back and lifts my thighs, carrying me back to his horse. He sat on its back and had me in front and facing him to pull my face, body, and arms into his jacket. Feeling his body heat, I pass out against his chest.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I jolt awake and sit up at the sound of crackling and shuffling in my room. I quickly sit up to see a young woman putting wood into the furnace across from the bed I was on. It was a massive red and dark brown canopy, the silky sheets sliding underneath me as my body settled to the mattress.

"Aw, I'm sorry, miss. The fire was dying down." She soothed, "Have to keep you warm, don't we?"

"Right...where am I?"

"You're in the Hashira Palace; I'm your chambermaid, Sumika. I got you all cleaned up and back to your old self. You had us all worried; you were asleep for a while."

"What? But I passed out no more than a few hours ago."

"That was yesterday, Miss. You've been asleep for around 13 hours; it's seven o'clock now."

"Thirteen!? And I'm just now waking up?!"

"Yes, Miss. Would you like to speak with Emperor Shinjuro?"

"Yes, yes, please! It's been a while, and I need a familiar face."

"Well, I'll be right back with your clothes."

She puts down the fire poker and dusts her hands off before she disappears into the closet. When the wooden door opened again, Sumika walked out cradling a blue lace-lined dress. I step out of the bed and happily slip on the silky azure fabric, the skinny straps hugging into my shoulders which put the dress in a position to show just a little bit of cleavage.

Sumika led me out of the room and down the candlelit corridor to another room and knocked loudly. Once the king allows me inside she bows and leaves.

"Come in!" The Emperor's voice yelled.

"Princess (Y/n)'s awake and dressed Your Highness," Sumika says, opening the door enough to let me in, "There you go."

"Thank you."

"Emperor Shinjuro." I bow, "Thank you so much for--"

"Nonsense."

"Excuse me?"

"You're the daughter of my best friend; ‘Shinjuro’ is just fine, (Y/n)."

"But we've only met a couple--"

"I owe your father my life; the very least I could do is take care of his daughter in his....absence."

"Absence?" I scoff, laughing nervously, "Thank you, Shinjuro for your concern, but I'm confused."

He sighs, "What do you remember?"

"Nothing much." I say, voice breaking, "I was upstairs in my room when I heard guards rushing past my door. I thought nothing of it until my chambermaid ran into my room and told me marauders were attacking the palace."

"Hmm..."

"I don't even know she escaped..." my voice breaks, my lungs heaving for breath, "She stayed back to barricade the door in case someone heard me escaping from the corridor."

"Well...while you were resting, I had my guards investigate the palace and it seems the fire was started in your throne room."

"No...no, I'm sure it had to be the sitting room." Tears roll down my face faster than I can wipe, "That's where our furnace is, Shinjuro. It couldn't be the throne room because how....h-how would the fire start?"

"My knights found evidence of a Molotov cocktail there, (Y/n). I...I don't know how else to...."

Before I can open my mouth to speak, two loud and heavy knocks thunder from the wooden door shortly before it swings open. A well-built man in a white and flame-patterned haori rushes past me and stands before the Emperor's desk. The man turns to me for a quick bow.

"My apologies, but I must..." He blinks and his jaw drops, "(Y/n)?"

My tears stopped flowing with confusion, allowing me to wipe the excess on my cheeks as he happily stepped closer.

“How do you know me?”

“It’s me, Kyojuro!”

"Kyojuro...?”

He nods happily, leaning in to show off his features a little better. I raise an eyebrow at him, examining his features from his fiery hair and the fiery gradient in his irises. I note his round jawline and wide eyes and my eyebrows finally raise in realization.

“Ren!”

"Yes!"

We pull each other into a strong embrace as flashbacks of the times we played hide-and-seek in my garden and caused mischief around his palace flooded my mind. I smile into his chest and squeeze harder, feeling his hands sink into me before we pull away, looking at each other lovingly.

“You got...bigger." He smiles longingly, "N-not like...I meant, like 'older'. Older-bigger.”

“Well, you certainly got bigger. I'm surprised you didn't hit your head on the doorframe when you walked in."

He chuckles, "I mean it has been 11 years. Last we saw each other, I believe I was convincing you to eat worms."

"Tried convincing me."

"Heh, yes of course."

"And maybe I would've fallen for it if they weren't covered in dirt."

"Perhaps that may have been a factor."

"So, after being my nutritionist, you became a knight?"

"During the war, Father was away and I was in charge so I trained as much as I could and now I'm the Head of the royal fleet."

“Impressive. All I did was learn how to ride a horse, play violin, and archery. My...mother taught me."

My smile fades, and he does the same before he suddenly knelt and bowed his head to me.

"Ren?"

"My apologies. In my haste, I never properly showed empathy for your loss. My deepest condolences, princess."

I smile sadly, lifting his chin, "If it's all the same to you, Ren, I prefer (Y/n)."

He stands up and adjusts his shirt when I suddenly hug him again, my heart pounding as I bury my face into his neck. I feel him sigh as he holds me close and rubs my back.

"I'm sorry." He whispered.

I hum, melting into his touch. "I missed you." A happier tear slipped from my eye.

"I've missed you more."

"My apologies for breaking up your moment...

We quickly withdrew from our embrace and straightened up to give the emperor, who was sitting back down, our undivided attention. He chuckles lightly.

"Are you hungry, (Y/n)?"

"Oh yes, I haven't eaten since yesterday."

"I'm sure. Kyoujuro?"

"Right!" Ren smiles, "I'll show you to the kitchen, Shinobu can make you something while we catch up."

"I never thought you of all people would gain charm and maturity in adulthood."

"Oh please, I've always had charm." He laughs, "After you then."

#kny #demon slayer rengoku #rengoku fluff #rengoku kyōjurō #rengoku kyojuro #rengoku kyoujurou x reader #rengoku x reader #x black reader #black reader #black writers #x black fem reader #kny rengoku

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hanasnx · 8 months

Note

187 and 7 for anakin 😈

prompt: #187

prompt list | rules

minors dni 18+

word count: 0.9k | character(s): tcw!anakin skywalker x f!reader

notes: specifically written for the clone wars' characterization of anakin. i chose to go with #187 bcos ive been needing an excuse to make this specific idea happen lmao i hope u like it

warnings: light gambling, no smut, strip game, youre barely clothed in front of clones (implied), you're wearing a bralette mention, commander!reader, no y/n

"General Skywalker,” a trooper beckons, catching up with the striding officer to fall into step with him.

“Lieutenant.” Anakin greets with a nod. The pair pass by compatriots, ignoring the bustle of their surroundings as they share a conversation.

“Some advice, sir?”

Anakin quirks a brow, regarding the lieutenant with a side glance. “You’re asking?”

“The Commander, sir, she cleans us out every time we play scraps, and we’re almost sure she’s—“

“Cheating?” That’s well within your character, so much so it makes him scoff. You’re clever, and not to say his boys aren’t. They have more integrity than you.

The trooper remains uneasy, as if he’s implicated a higher ranking official by tattling to his battalion general. “Yeah… Er, yes, sir.” The only reason he came to Anakin was because of the close nature of his relationship with the Commander.

“It’s loaded dice, Lieutenant.” Anakin replies, certain without the need to check. He’s aware of your past, and how you use it to take advantage of those too trusting. Playing dishonestly in some light gambling isn’t the worst thing you’ve gotten away with. The thought of it pulls the other end of his lips into a smile. A devious plan forming in his head while his clone trooper bangs his fist against his palm in eureka.

“Ah, ha! Perfect, I’ll go tell the boys—“ That tone of triumph within the trooper, paired with his near escape, snaps Anakin’s mind to the present. His hand shoots out, clutching onto his subordinate’s upper arm, effectively arresting him.

“Lieutenant.”

Again, he’s nervous in his answer. “… Yes? Sir?”

Anakin’s close, lowering his voice so as to keep the matter between them. “Why don’t you let me handle this?”

“Oh, no way I’m playing scraps with a Jedi.” you interject as soon as your eyes lay on the smug face of Anakin Skywalker entering the room, cutting through the group of clones. You slump in your chair, crossing your arms.

“Not to worry, Commander,” Anakin draws a chair to sit down. “You have my word I won’t cheat.” he pronounces the word while holding your gaze, and you jerk your head away. Aside from being suspicious he’s remarkably accusatory, you’re worried his disapproval is driving him to expose your operation to humiliate you. It’s annoying how high of a horse he sits on. Anakin glances between the others at this little table, “Mind if I join?”

“—Not at all, General,”

“—‘Course not.”

The troopers reply, however you can smell the tension caused by their superior catching them in the act of partaking in a gambling game. Not just their boss, but a force sensitive as well. His word may be currency within the Order, but here it means jack when real money’s on the line. Luckily, the game only needs two to play.

You roll your eyes in reluctant compliance, and land all four legs of your chair onto the ground with a bang. Anakin remains unperturbed. In fact, he’s unwaveringly staring you down, awaiting your next move. So you oblige him, leaning forward to sweep your red pair of dice off the table into your hand. “Alright, well, you know the rules. Roll a seven, and you get the pot—“

Quick to interrupt you, you frown at the General for his outburst, “Unfortunately, I don’t have any money.”

You slow, and scoff in disbelief at his audacity. “So, why are you wasting my time then?” The foul disposition he created by inviting himself to this table is worsened by how obvious it is he’s keen on tripping you up.

“I thought we’d roll for a strip.” he responds. His body language is cool, and open. Curled forward with a palm on his thigh and his elbow resting on the surface. As if he’s so comfortable with offering that up, as if you’d take it. You roll your jaw while you consider it. When you take too long, his gaze sweeps across the crowding onlookers of clones. “Don’t you wanna give the boys a show?” There’s murmuring amongst the throng, and now you’ll look like a coward for refusing. Besides, there’s no way Anakin would win with a pair of dice like these.

You straighten, the dice noisily shaking in your fist, “Get ready to leave in your underwear, Skywalker.”

On dramatic cue, Anakin tucks his hand in between the layers of his robes, to retrieve a pair of white dice from his breast pocket.

“Actually, Commander, I want to use these. They’re lucky.” A phrase that derailed your confidence as easily as tipping over the first domino. Talking a big game, winning as much as you had before, it’d be obvious you weren’t playing fair as soon as you roll with these. However, you can’t deny it now or else look completely guilty.

Anakin witnesses you visibly shift in expression, adjusting in your seat to call attention away from it as you clear your throat. That cocky energy dissolves before his eyes as you shove your own lucky charms into your pants, and silently ask for his with an outstretched palm. He pours them into your hand.

It isn’t long at all before you sit, cold, in your metal chair. Disrobed and bare, save for your panties and bralette. You tap your arm impatiently, the stressed vein pronounced in the skin of your forehead as you pray on Anakin’s downfall for revenge. He cares not, delighted even, as he collects his winning die from the table one by one.

It’s what you get for taking advantage of his battalion.

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the-fiction-witch · 4 months

Text

Mrs Dawkins P6- 10

Media The Artful Dodger

Character Jack Dawkins

Couple Jack X Reader

Rating Sweet + Flirty

Series: Mrs Dawkins

P1 - P6

I sat on the piano bench as I gently played the song in my songbook. Miss Hardcastle walked back and forth as she listened to me play.

"You're speeding up. Somewhere else you'd rather be?"

Yes! At my desk drawing! or painting! or anything other than here! "No Miss Hardcastle," I answered as I slowed down,

"Enough." She demanded so I stopped, "The masters can only be mutilated so long." She sighed holding the bridge of her nose, "Come on." She demanded,

I nodded and got up, so we headed out of the music room and I followed her along to the largest room of the house the large hall. She led me to the centre of the room where I stood as she paced around me.

"Now, once your debutante dance with your father, you shall?"

"Wait silently for any potential suitors."

"Partners." She corrected, "A young eligible man approaches?"

"I shall greet him," I courtesied, "Offer a smile?"

"A small one. A wide smile is a sign of a willing girl, and we don't want you to look too willing now." She said,

"Yes, Miss."

"He will bow to greet you," She said as she stood in front of me and bowed as a gentleman would "He shall offer a hand," she said as she offered her hand to me,

"I shall offer a hand,"

"Which hand?"

"The right?" I asked, offering her hand right hand.

"You offer the opposite, left if right, right if left," She corrected,

"Yes, miss." I nodded, she had offered her left so I offered my right,

"Gloves will be on when approaching a young lady, if not you are to request he puts them on."

"But won't I already be wearing gloves?"

"He is to wear his own when dancing with a lady, it is etiquette."

"Yes, miss."

"He shall kiss it, One kiss on the knuckle bridge. No lower, No higher." She said as she faked a kiss on my hand "Then?"

"He shall ask to dance."

"He shall, a man does not simply take the hand and begin he must ask a lady for her permission."

"Can I refuse?"

"No."

"Then isn't asking irrelevant?"

"It is the proper thing."

"Then I shall hold his hand, he shall take my waist-"

"Waist not hip, never hip. he takes your hip?"

"I correct him."

"If he still moves his hand?"

"I politely thank him for his intentions to dance but fetch father."

"Good, Your other hand?"

"On his shoulder."

"His jacket." She snapped as she forced my hands like I was dancing forcefully she moved my fingers "Pinch, you pinch his jacket you do not hold him."

"Yes, Miss."

"Now step two it." She said,

I nodded and began my steps,

"Good, very good. Stiff backs and always room you should be able to fit a plate between you." She reminded, "he shall lead with grace and care as if leading the most tentative of ponies"

"So I'm a horse?"

"Do not be smart Y/n."

"Yes, Miss."

"We do not criticise our partners, with words or expressions."

"If they can't dance why are they coming to the ball?"

"To witness your debut. Some men have two left feet that is the truth of it, but always we smile kindly." She said, "We do not correct him, this is not the time for a dancing lesson," She said, "You are to dance gracefully, there will be no jumps, no fast spins, none of this dipping madness, it is only an excuse for hands to be in places they shouldn't."

"Yes, Miss."

"We can allow a small twirl and perhaps more but that is all, you may be the debutante but we do not want too many eyes." She explained, "We do not whisper. unladylike to be whispering secrets in the ears of our dance partners. We are mindful of others on the floor, and we do not! ever! give kisses."

"Yes, Miss." I rolled my eyes a little,

"You may speak polite conversation is a given when dancing but we do not whisper, we do not shout and always mindful of a gentleman's conversation. No gentleman likes his ear being talked off."

"And if they have nothing important to say?"

"Then dance in silence." She said, "And when the dance is over?"

"I bow again and smile,"

"Good, he shall thank you for the honour and leave to go elsewhere in the party."

"May I speak to him after?"

"No, unless your father approaches you with him."

"When how am I to recall those who interested me?"

"You remember their names." She said, "You may only leave the dance floor on occasion to drink and converse will fellow ladies, but a lady does not cross the ballroom unattended you must ask your father."

"How will I know where my father is?"

"He shall be watching always."

"Yes, miss."

"Go may return to your room." she said, "I will deliver your invitations to your room and you are to sign them all and make sure you have a list of all your invitees to check when you get your replies."

"Yes, Miss." I nodded, as I fixed my dress and headed to my room.

I sat bored out of my mind, I listened to the gentle breeze as it blew on the windchime that hung outside my balcony.

I took an eggshell card from the tower, set it on my writing desk's mat, and I read the words written across it.

'You are cordially Invoiced to Miss Everset's Debutante Ball, Miss everset is to formally be debuting at her debutante Ball, Sunday 21st Starting at 9.30 pm, Please be prompt in your replies and we hope you join us for what is sure to be a spectacular evening.'

and a line for me to sign,

I dipped my pen in my inkwell and signed my signature across the bottom before I blew my breath across it drying the ink, I picked up my perfume giving it a spritz before adding it to its pale blue envelope addressed already to its recipient, I sealed it with wax from the pot and stamped it with the family crest before finally adding it to the other pile of completed invitations,

This went on for what honestly felt like hours and hours of mindless work.

And as I worked finally doing the last one leaving me with two or three spares just in case, And I... spotted my drawing. I pulled it out and looked at my sweet drawing of Dr. Dawkins.

I blushed a little and hid my drawing away, I grabbed one of the spare cards signed it, spritzed it and set it in a blank envelope writing the address myself,

'Dr Dawkins, Port Victory Royal Hospital'

Sealing it up as I had all the others, I was a little worried I knew I shouldn't just invite anyone, my father had planned this so meticulously so I hid the invitation in my pocket and scampered through the house to my father's office.

I pushed the door open slowly, it opened with a high whine, seeing his office inside was fairly dark with the fire burning, the walls filled with books, and his desk in the centre. He worked away with papers and such, littering his desk, not even looking up at me.

"Father?"

"Yes, my sweet?"

"I've uhh I've finished my invitations."

"Good, we'll pop into town and drop them off tomorrow," he said as he inked his pen,

"I uhh I had a couple of spares,"

"Yes you should do dear I made sure to have extra in case of errors, damage, or just forgetting someone," he said,

"I uhh Could I make one up?"

"For?" he asked looking up at me finally,

"For the doctor, who looked after my hand?"

He smiled wickedly a moment "I don't see why not,"

"Thank you!" I smiled going to run back to my room.

I woke to the usual sounds of bird song as they fluttered back and forth in the bright sun, the moment I knew of the day my smile grew so wide. I bolted out my bed and into my bathroom, I ran myself a hot steaming bath. Once the water was high enough I turned off the taps and climbed in, I grabbed my soap and scrubbed myself making sure every inch of me was heavily scrubbed. I hummed as I did making sure to get my every crack and crevice. Once finished I jumped from the bath and wrapped a towel around myself. I dried myself off and changed for the day ahead

I took my stockings and pulled them up to my thighs, I took my bloomers and pulled them up to my waist buttoning them up tight, I took my underdress and slipped it over my shoulders tugging it down to my ankles, I took a pair of black boots and laced them all the way up. I took my corset still laced from yesterday and clipped it on having to breathe in a little to do the last few up but it meant I didn't need someone to lace my corset for me, I walked down my wardrobe and ran my hand across the rail of dresses. I picked out my cutest little lilac dress with black lace and thrills, I pulled it out and slipped it on giving it a good adjustment to let the built-in crinoline sit as it should. I did up the few buttons It needed. I moved myself to my vanity, I sat on the chair and looked at my reflection, I brushed my hair and pinned it back. I did some very minimal make-up to match my dress and I adjusted my ribbon to make sure the bow sat as it should.

Once finished I gathered my bag and added all my invitations to my bag before I went to the dining room where my father sat with his breakfast. I took my seat and sipped some orange juice.

"You look very pretty this morning, my sweet"

"Well, we are dropping off invitations today, I thought I should look my best" I smiled as my breakfast arrived just some toast and jam, "Thank you," I smiled to her,

"Good girl, yes we will go and drop them off after breakfast." He nodded as he ate,

I smiled so very excited as I ate my toast and jam.

I smiled as I stood and waited outside a local house, as my father went inside to deliver the invitation to my ball, after his meeting we went around town and delivered the invitations, I was not allowed in the houses of course but still it was nice to see the town. I stood just away from the streets under my black lace parasol.

"Ahh, Good Day Miss Everset."

I glanced to my side confused as to who would know my name, but I smiled widely as I saw him,

"Ohh Good Day Doctor Dawkins," I curtsied with a wide smile, I did stop myself and lessen my smile as I didn't wish to look 'too willing',

"What a pleasure to see you," He smiled, as he stood much as I saw him last but now with an added textured jacket and hat,

"It's a pleasure to see you too, What brings you out into town today?"

"Ohh Just doing the rounds," he smiled as he raised his arm to show his doctor's case filled with tools, "Yourself?"

"Just in town with father,"

"Aww, You're a very nice girl to accompany your father to town," He smiled,

"Yes, Well we have had a busy day, I was going to pop by the hospital later actually,"

"You where?" he asked, "You hand giving you trouble?"

"No, no, I uhh I have something for you,"

"Ohh? What a coincidence," He chuckled, "I happen to have something for you too."

"You do?" I smiled rather excited,

"I do, shall I go first then?"

"Yes Please," I smiled as I tried desperately to hide my blush,

He smiled for a moment, he set down his bag and moved closer so close I could smell the metallic scent of blood and his slightly woody aftershave as he put his hands over my eyes, "Closed." He warned so I smiled and closed my eyes as he asked, I felt him move his hands away and gently felt a weight around my neck "And Open." He said, so I opened my eyes and saw the pearls around my neck.

I gasped, "My pearls!"

"The very same," he smiled as he came around to see my face,

"but how?" I asked so overjoyed to have them returned to me,

"I have my ways, little lady," He winked,

"Thank you so much! I don't know how I could ever repay you, Doctor Dawkins."

"You're very welcome Miss Everset," he smiled, "Don't worry about repaying me, I'm just happy you have your necklace back,"

"Thank you, Doctor Dawkins." I blushed

"You're quite welcome," He smiled, "Now? what's this you have something for me?"

"Ohh yes!" I nodded, I opened my handbag and flicked through the invitation envelopes finding his and I handed it over, "For you Doctor Dawkins,"

"oh? what's this?" He smiled as he happily took it, he opened the envelope and read the small card "An Invitation? To your debutante ball?"

"Yes," I nodded,

"Are you sure?"

"I am, I asked my father if I could invite you myself,"

"You did?"

"I did." I blushed,

"Aww, that's very sweet of you Miss Everset." He smiled, "I'd be delighted to attend."

"You would?"

"Absolutely, You will see me there I promise"

"I shall expect your reply in the post then,"

"But I'm here right now? Can't I just tell you?"

"I wish you could," I sighed, "But it is proper."

"Alright, Fair enough little lady." He nodded, "I will get the reply sent as soon as possible,"

"I look forward to receiving it, Doctor Dawkins"

"If it's alright with you Miss Everset, Jack. Jack Dawkins."

I blushed twiddling my parasol a little "Ohh, Alright Jack. Y/n, Y/n Everset."

"Pleasure," he smiled as he took my hand and kissed it, "I look forward to seeing you on the twenty-first, You think I could get a dance?" He winked,

I couldn't help my giggle, "Perhaps, you'll have to ask me then."

"Perhaps I will," He smiled, "You have a good day Y/n."

"You too Jack," I smiled,

He tipped his hat politely and took his bag with him as he carried on with his journey, I blushed so hard at such a thought, that we had spoken almost privately, that he was coming to my ball, and that he may ask me for a dance.

"You alright my sweet? your cheeks are flush" My father asked as he came out the house,

"Just fine father, I think the heat is getting to me," I lied,

"Alright well you can go sit in the carriage if you like I'll deliver the rest of your invitations,"

"Yes father," I nodded,

He lead me to the carriage and left me there to deliver the rest himself, the moment I saw him leave I couldn't help but slightly squeal with excitement.

I smiled as I sat on my chair, and I hummed to myself. My hands coated in pain, my dress protected by my white smock that too was smattered and splattered with paint stains. As I painted, guiding and gliding my brush across the cavus building the various colours with my watercolour paint. Miss Hardcastle stood behind me looming over me in the drawing room, one of the few places I was allowed to paint.

The room was small with cream walls and art lining every inch, easel's, pads and other such materials littered the room with a grand window to the garden, I often spent time here as whenever I could I convinced Miss Hardcastle to allow me time here, and if I wasn't here I'd be in my room doing much the same, I drew on the cavus the figure and shapes and had begun to add the watercolours to fill out his sweet intricacies, as soon as one dried I'd move on to the next even adding highlights and shadows to make him seem like an illustration as he belonged in a storybook. All while my other hand plaid with my string of pearls around my neck as I had worn them every day since Jack had returned them to me.

"You should make the blue lighter," She recommended,

"That's how dark I'd like the blue" I told her, as I did my best to stay within the lines I had already sketched or if I was to leave the lines do it in an artful watercolour way,

"Yes, Miss," she nodded,

I continued with my painting making sure to add more grey to my white,

"The white should be clean,"

"No, He needs a dirty shirt," I answered as I went on with my painting,

"Yes, Miss."

"don't add a green tie it will muddy the blue waistcoat."

"He likes his green tie," I argued as politely as I could,

"Yes, Miss."

I smiled as I finished with my paint and grabbed my pencil adding sketch lines and detail mostly to his face making sure to sketch his strong jaw, his youthful cheekbones and his deep chocolate eyes, my focus on his face so intense I was biting my lip as I sketched over my paint even stopping my humming to better focus.

She coughed, "Do you and the easel need a moment alone Miss?"

"No," I sighed moving back a little and calming myself down,

"Does he have a name? You're muse?"

"Humm?"

"Does he have a name, Miss?"

"Ohhh uhh..." I blushed, "No, he doesn't have a name."

"Anyone Inspire you then?"

"No, no just ... from my head." I lied,

I mean, I was drawing Jack.

But I'm not telling her that, she'd tell my father and I'd never be allowed out of the house again."

"You sure? You've been very... Specific? No one Inspire you, perhaps in town?"

"No, I uhhh I just imagined him." I lied, "Perhaps from one of my books."

"so nothing I need to inform our father?"

"No, nothing at all." I answered, "Just an artist's Imagination." I lied,

"You'll have to change when you're done." She said, "You have paint all over your dress."

"Yes, Miss." I nodded,

"And you'll have to remove your ribbon, you have paint on that too-"

"No!" I yelled it echoing across the room, "I- I will wash it myself."

She seemed taken back but she nodded, "Yes, Miss."

#thomasbrodiesangster #tbs imagine #tbs imagines #tbs smut #thomas sangster imagine #thomas sangster #thomas brodie sangster #tbs #thomas brodie sangster smut #thomas brodie sangster imagine #jackdawkins #jack #jack dawkins #the artful dodger #thearttfuldodger #theartfuldogger

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cometcon · 7 months

Text

I uh... I did it again. XD My brain has been going brrrr over this fucking GORGEOUS artwork by @zunkome2 on Xitter (click the view on Twitter button to see their art) and it inspired me to write fanfic of it. I love this art so fucking much!!!! I hope I can keep practicing and be as good as them one day. :D

So yeah, I could not stop thinking about this and I love that Blitz is canonically such a horse-girl, and I can totally see Striker realising and using that to his advantage in trying to draw Blitz in and hopefully get him on his side.

Anyway, my brain decided it was time to take like 5 hours of my day on and off making me try to write this to the best of my current ability. Enjoy. XD

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Blitz was in Heaven.

An ironic descriptor, considering their actual location, but picking a better one would have been impossible right then; especially with a hellhorse nuzzling his chest ever so gently in search of another rawhide strip. Her mouth may have appeared vicious - and technically yes, that Lovecraftian maw was capable of crushing flesh and bone to mush in a single bite - but the non-business parts were also far softer to the touch than anyone less familiar with the creatures might expect.

"Sorry. I'm all out," he murmured regretfully, giving the beautiful beast a scratch on her forehead as she shoved her muzzle into his other hand. He had to take a small step backward however when she suddenly whipped her head up and to the side with a greeting whinny. Strange. What was that abou-

"Lot of others would've lost a limb for that." The unexpected voice made Blitz tense, tail shooting straight out behind him in surprise before curling tightly, an embarrassed flush rising to his cheeks. He peered around the hellhorse's neck, praying his mortification wouldn't be obvious to the cowboy now leaning against his mount's side. How the fuck had he arrived without him noticing? Striker plucked the wheat stalk from between his teeth and smirked. "She likes you."

Blitz coughed awkwardly and began backing away, mind and mouth both rapidly trying and failing to come up with a believable excuse for his actions. "I was just- uh… I was looking for… We had them at the circus, see, and I thought maybe- Strips are really good for their teeth, you kn- I mean of course you'd know that! I just-" Striker's eyebrows had been climbing steadily higher beneath the brim of his hat the longer Blitz waffled on, and in desperation he found himself resorting to a ridiculous escape route he hadn't used since he was nine years old. "Ah, I think I hear Luna calling me! Coming Loonie!"

He skittered across the corral and clambered over the fence, cheeks burning hot as he cursed himself silently. Why had he turned into such a blathering idiot in front of the one person he'd actually hoped to impress this weekend? Blitz knew a ruthless killer when he met them and Striker was clearly I.M.P material. After a pathetic show like that though, there was no way he would want to-

The ground under his boots had begun to vibrate while he fumed, faintly at first, then increasing to a thundering roll. He instinctively darted to the side and kept walking, expecting whoever it was to just barrel past him at the reckless speed they seemed to be going. But his path was abruptly cut off by a fiery grey mass, Striker expertly bringing his mount from full canter to a standstill in a cloud of dust. He swung her around to stand side-on so he could look down at the choking imp, that shit-eating grin Blitz was quickly becoming familiar with exposing a gleaming gold fang to the sunlight.

"Pretty sure your hound went bean-pickin' with the rest an hour ago," Striker commented, leaning forward to rest an arm on the pommel, free hand tapping his thigh absentmindedly, "Since you got so much free time to burn, how 'bout you come help me check the fences? Got a few posts loose on the South end thanks to that pesky varg pack last night." The hellhorse shuffled under him, pawing at the dirt and snapping her jaws a little at the mention of vargs. "Bombproof wouldn't mind catching a few either, I bet. Maybe you'll get to see her on the hunt."

"Oh, uh…" Perhaps he hadn't completely blown his chances after all? Striker certainly wasn't behaving like he thought Blitz a dithering moron, literally chasing him down to offer another opportunity to spend more time together and bond with Bombproof. What an incredible name for a hellhorse… No, focus! He could salvage this. He just had to pull himself together and show what a great prospect his group would be compared to farm work in the boonies. Preferably without turning into a rambling mess this time. He forced a nonchalant shrug. "Sure, why not?"

Striker slipped his boot free of the stirrup, hand extending in clear invitation. Blitz's brain stuttered, immediately dropping every part of his own peptalk as it dawned on him what the other had actually meant.

"What, you plannin' on walkin' there? It's miles of Wrath terrain. C'mon Blitz, I don't bite," Striker drawled, head tilting as his eyes took on a knowing glint, "Unless you ask nicely."

Well that decided it. Blitz was reaching for the proffered hand before he could second-guess himself, so caught up in his whirling thoughts Striker had to correct which foot the distracted imp tried mounting with. Blitz didn't have long to stew in his humiliation at least, preoccupied by the ease of how he was hauled into the saddle, hands directed to grip the pommel while the taller demon reached around him to grasp the reins. Striker nudged his leg out of the way, retaking the stirrup and leaving Blitz to squeeze Bombproof's sides tightly with his thighs as she responded to her rider. A moment later they were galloping down the driveway, wind whipping past their faces and her powerful form surging below them.

Blitz was wrong. His time in the corral had been a beautiful experience, but still only comparable to Earth at best.

Now he was in Heaven.

And he never wanted to fall.

#helluva boss #striker helluva boss #helluva boss blitz #blitzø #striker x blitz helluva boss #striker x blitz #blitz x striker #striker x blitzo #blitzo x striker #blitzstrike #fanfic #my writing #i haven't written blitz before so sorry if i haven't quite grasped his voice and speech patterns yet #i'll work on it

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