#she's so handsome and gallant | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

fairysluna · 2 months

Note

Hi! Could I please request another threesome with Cregan, reader and Jace. Maybe they get jealous when they see reader with another men and want to teach her a lesson? Thank you and love your blog!

i get drunk on jealousy.

Modern!AU — After they've ignored you for a week, you were desperate to have their attention back. Flirting with a random guy might not be the best idea.

MASTERLIST

PAIRING — Cregan Stark x Fem!Reader x Jacaerys Velaryon.

TAGS — polyrelationship/polyamorous, m/m/f, smut (p in v, clit play, handjob, oral sex, creampie, spitting, cum eating, male on male action), jace x cregan, use of alcohol and drugs, kind of drunk sex, dom!cregan, switch!jace, sub!reader, jealousy, cursing. If something is missing let me know!!

AUTHOR'S NOTE — Don't expect so much of this fic, I saw this picture, I saw a vision, and basically my horniness wrote this by itself. Not my best work, but fuck it, this is just for fun. Also, this made me realize that I'm unable to write dom!Jace if Cregan is there too, oops??? I guess??? NO BETA, WE DIE LIKE MEN.

I took this request as an excuse to write this fic so... thank you for sending it and hope you enjoy this!🤍

WORD COUNT — 3.1k

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤenglish is not my first language.

Most people on Campus knew about your strange relationship with Cregan and Jacaerys. Some guys would often call you a whore behind your back, while some girls would prefer the term ‘lucky bitch’; it was no secret that the both of them were quite known for being handsome and gallant, almost acting like real life prince-charmings. Every girl would drool for them, acknowledging their chivalry and politeness. Of course, they already knew about the attention that they received from the opposite sex, they knew about how many girls would love to be in your position. Which is why they didn't understand why you were so eager to act like a brat.

Jace tapped Cregan's shoulder as he saw you chatting with some random guy that suddenly appeared next to you on the couch. Neither of them had seen him before, he was probably a freshman or someone that sneaked into the party without invitation. Both pairs of eyes were intently staring at you, watching every move you make. They knew you weren't oblivious enough to not see it; he was obviously flirting with you, and you were clearly enjoying every moment of it. Jacaerys, being the most jealous out of the three of you, tightened his grip around his bottle of beer, his fingertips turning white as Cregan turned to look at him.

“Don't do anything stupid,” he warned him. “She'll deal with us later.”

“But look at her!” Jace snapped, his breathing ragged.

“She's doing it to piss us off,” Cregan attempted to calm him down. “She won't do anything with that guy. Just wait until the party's over and we'll take care of it, okay?”

He looked at him, obediently nodding as he took a long sil out of his beer to calm down a bit. Jace forbade himself to turn your way, ignoring your desperate attempt to make them jealous. Cregan, being a lot less hotheaded than Jace, acted nonchalantly toward your attitude, pretending you were doing nothing wrong, even when he wanted to grab your arm and take you right in that couch just to clarify that you belong to them.

Cregan knew your purpose, you both had spoken about it earlier that day after one of your classes together. They both have been ignoring you, neglecting your needs and spending more time alone — without you. At first you didn't mind it, thinking that they were busy with the final exams and their final projects of the semester; however, when you knew they were using all that time to plan this stupid party you got pissed, almost screaming at him in the middle of the campus, frustrated. Now here you were, sitting with a freshman trying to get in your pants, all while they were still ignoring you.

Both guys spent the rest of the night drinking, playing some games with other members of the fraternity and having a blast while you were standing in a corner, alone and bored; your two lovers out of your sight. Perhaps that was why you couldn't see Jace searching for you everytime he could, unable to control the jealousy that had grown within him. He couldn't find you anywhere around, which made his mind overthink about where you were, and with whom. Cregan would try to calm him down, offering him his blunt which Jace would accept in order to relax.

Hours passed, it was 4am when the music stopped and everyone passed out in random parts of the fraternity house. Cregan and Jace were stumbling their way up to their dorm, the effects of the alcohol still lingering in their bodies as they struggled to reach for their room. They both were holding onto each other until they opened the door and saw you standing in front of the mirror, wiping off your make up and getting ready to sleep. They noticed you had moved their beds together, making a bigger one as you usually do whenever you stayed with them.

They entered the room in silence, and while Cregan was closing the door and turning the lock, Jace stood closer to you almost drooling once he saw you were wearing one of his shirts. He wrapped his arms around your waist and hid his face on the crock of your neck, leaving wet kisses all over your skin and completely forgetting about the fact that he was supposed to be ignoring you.

“You're so fucking weak, Jace,” Cregan scolded him, removing his shoes and shirt, getting ready to bed.

You turned to look at the eldest guy, who just ignored your intense gaze.

“You're mad?” you dared to ask.

“We both are, actually,” Jacaerys murmured against your skin.

“And why would you be mad? I should be the angry one!”

“Oh, really?” Cregan finally turned, stepping closer to you. “Why is that?”

“You know why! We talked about this and you decided to keep ignoring me!”

Stark laughed dryly, his gray eyes getting darker as he narrowed them. “Is that why you've been acting like a fucking whore tonight? Trying to get into a freshman's pants to get our attention. Fucking pathetic.” He took a step close enough to grab your jaw and force you to look at him. You tried to squirm away from him, but Jace's arms tightened their grip around your body, and you had no escape. “Jace couldn't even enjoy the fucking party because he thought you were sucking another guy's cock. You think that's fair? To make him feel like shit the entire night because you were just needy of attention?”

“I- I didn't-”

“You broke my heart tonight, sweetheart,” Jace whispered in your ear as his fingers reached the hem of your shirt. “You need to pay for what you've done…”

“I'm- I'm sorry, I never meant to-”

“It seems like you need a lesson,” Cregan interrupted you, tightening his grip on your face and making you whine. “Something to remind you that you belong to us.”

Jacaerys' hand cupping your core with one of his hands, burying his fingers between your folds and covering them with your growing slick. He giggled, “she's not wearing panties…” he informed, smiling up at Cregan who clenched his jaw.

“Get her on her knees,” he commanded, and the youngest obeyed immediately, letting you go from his firm grip.

You fell to your knees, scratching them with the raspy carpet beneath you. Jace removed his shirt as Cregan started to unbutton his pants until they pooled around his ankles along with his underwear. You whimpered once you saw his cock starting to get hard under your haze, your mouth watering as you leaned towards his side.

“Get on the bed,” he pointed at Jace. You tried to stand up and follow the instructions too, yet he stopped you by gripping the front of your head and pulling it back. “Not you,” he sternly said. “Open up.”

Obediently, you did as you were told, opening your mouth and letting him press his tip on your tongue. He gave it a few taps, teasing before ge finally decided to start fucking your mouth. Cregan grabbed the sides of your head to keep you still in your position, and his hips started to snap against your throat without further warning. You found stability when you placed your cold hands on his thighs, grasping onto them so you wouldn't lose balance as he had no mercy with you.

You looked up teary eyed, gagging and gulping loudly as you heard his moans slipping out of his plump lips. The small eye contact suddenly became too much for him, so he leaned his head back as he closed his eyes. “Such a delicious mouth,” he praised you, “taking my cock so fucking well.”

His grip around your head started to hurt a bit, his fingertips burying in you as he fastened his pace. It wasn't hard for you to become a mess; your own drool was falling down the corners of your lips as you cried out, your whines being muffled by him inside your mouth, and your slick already starting to leak out of you. Your arousal only grew once he buried himself completely in your mouth, grabbed the back of your head and forced you to stay there for a few seconds, with his length fully sheathed in your throat. Your nose brushed against his pelvis as the air started to escape from your lungs.

“Come on now, baby,” he murmured with a strained voice, feeling his cock pulsing inside your mouth. “Take it… take it all…”

He chuckled softly as you started to tap on his thigh, and he quickly let you go. You gasped once he pulled out of your mouth, gasping for the air your lungs desperately needed. He moaned softly once he saw you; tears on your face, drool falling down your swollen lips — you looked so pretty he even thought about letting you go unpunished and just please you, but then he turned to see Jace; his cock was achingly hard, his ruddy tip leaking as he desperately fucked his fist; he had been so good to you, and you made him feel so bad throughout the night; he deserved a reward, and you deserved a punishment.

Before you could react, Cregan grabbed your body with ease, lifting you up from the ground and carelessly carrying you towards the bed. You moaned with his touch, so needy of him that even his roughness made you squirm out of pleasure. He moved your body around as if you were a ragdoll, shifting your position in bed until you were sitting on top of Jace's pelvis, his cock right between your legs. For a second you thought it was finally the time for them to fuck you, but you were so wrong.

“Grab her hips,” he commanded, using that mandatory tone that drove you and Jace insane. “Don't let her move.”

He positioned himself between the boy's legs, leaving you more confused than before. “What- what are you-?”

“I'm teaching you a lesson,” he stopped you before you could finish your question. “You'll see what happens when you behave and when you don't.”

You saw him leaning down, his plump lips wrapping the tip of Jace's cock and making him squirm beneath your body. Your mouth dropped as you looked at Cregan taking him entirely, his haze fixed in you as the frustration in your body grew even more. The youngest had his nails buried in the flesh of your hips, you heard him moan so prettily that you could even feel the slick oozing out of you, even when you were untouched. It was such a sinful image to witness, especially when Cregan's eyes became teary once he gagged around Jace.

“Oh, fuck…” you mumbled, tears of despair gathering in your eyes as your breathing became ragged. “P-please touch me…”

Jace's hand attempted to reach for your throbbing clit, but the older grabbed his hand and pushed it away. “I'll stop if you touch her,” he warned him. All you could do was cry out.

Cregan's ragged breathing would reach your folds, causing shivers all over your spine. You would try to move your hips to at least rub yourself against Jace's skin, but he didn't allow it, holding you down so tightly that you were certain it would leave a bruise.

The moans turned into whines as Jace started to quickly feel the orgasm coming. His skin was burning as Cregan fervently sucked on his tip, using his tongue to clean up the precum spilling from his slit. Whenever you would cry out or move on top of him he would feel closer to the edge, his body burning inside. “I'm so fucking close, baby,” he whimpered, “keep sucking my cock, I'm- I'm gonna fucking cum… f-fuuck.”

You saw Cregan hollowing his cheeks, milking Jace dry as he came inside his mouth. Drops of the pearly seed escaped from his lips and you felt the need to lick them both clean. You needed a taste, anything that would make you feel some kind of relief.

He sat back up, and as soon as he laid his hazy eyes on you, he grabbed your neck pulling you closer towards him. As if it was a reflex, you opened your mouth while you stared at him through your glossy eyes. He let his spit fall onto your mouth, to then pull you close and fervently kiss you. The salty taste of Jace's release lingered in your mouths as you devoured each other, you would whine against his lips, still sobbing as your pussy was already aching for the lack of attention.

That's when the boy beneath you wrapped you between his arms, forcing you to lay on top of his chest. He didn't even let you catch a break before you felt his cock slowly making his way inside of you, and you gasped out of relief. He stretched you out, providing you with that sweet sting of pain that drove you insane. His hands grabbed your thighs, folding you in half as he started to thrust upwards.

“Don't ever forget who you belong to,” he grunted against your ear as you struggled to keep it quiet. Probably the whole house knew what you were doing, and maybe that was their purpose all along. “You're fucking ours, baby. This tight pussy belongs to us, do you hear me?”

Cregan's hand fell hard on your throbbing clit as you remained silent. A whine left your lips as Jace kept bullying your gummy, wet walls with his girth.

“Answer him,” he demanded, getting closer to you and placing his leaking cock on top of your swollen pearl. You felt the room spinning.

“Yes! Yes! I'm- fuck… I'm fucking yours,” you sobbed.

The whole situation became overwhelming, while one was burying himself in the deepest part of you, the other was rubbing himself on your sensitive flesh, searching for his own release as he wrapped his hand around your throat.

“Fuck, you're fucking squeezing me so tight, baby,” Jace moaned, breathlessly as he felt the mixture of your slick falling down his sack. The lewd sounds of your folds getting stretched by his thickness almost making him cum again. “So fuckin delicious…”

“We've just started and we already fucked her silly,” Cregan chuckled. “She's a fucking mess for us…”

A layer of sweat covered your body; you felt the blood burning inside your veins, the orgasm approaching you embarrassingly fast as they were stimulating your senses. Your eyes rolled back, the desperate pleads slipping out of your lips as you were begging them to make you cum. You were shaking, your face covered in tears as the moans were ripped out of your throat.

“So loud,” the older teased you, “gonna wake up the whole fucking house…”

“I- I need to… please, I need to cum!”

Cregan leaned towards you, and Jace instinctively fastened his pace, burying himself deeper and harder; you had a hard time thinking straight as the older’s hands tightened around your neck. “Ow, poor girl, wants to cum. I don't think you deserve it.”

“P-please, Cregan…”

“Work for it,” he demanded. “Make Jace cum and then you're free to do it too.”

Almost as if it was an instinct, you started to move your hips up and down Jace's cock, making the thrusts more intense and deeper. The younger moaned loudly, already feeling overstimulated by your movements and feeling his sack heavy with a new load of his release. He thought about how pretty you would look with your legs spreaded and his seed falling from your weeping hole; that image alone almost made him peak right in the spot.

“Jacey, please!” you whined, already growing tired. “Please, please, cum in me!”

“Want me to fill your pretty cunny, baby? Mhm? Want my cum inside of you?” he teased, and you rolled your eyes as your walls clenched with his filthy words.

“Yes… yes, please… give it to me, please…”

As a spectator, Cregan groaned loudly, quickly rubbing his hands around his shaft with his eyes fixed in the way Jace was filling you up, bewitched by that bulge in your belly that grew each time that he would bury himself deep inside of you, touching your sweet spot over and over until your head feel dizzy and all that left your mouth were incoherent mumbling.

“I can't… I can't hold it…” you sobbed.

“Come on, baby, I'm so fucking close, just wait for me,” Jace whimpered, his movements getting more desperate and sloppier.

“I can't! I can't! F-fuck…”

Everything came to a breaking point once your release gushed out of you, spurring all over them and making a complete mess. Neither of them could hold back after such an obscene view in front of them, and they were quick to follow. Jacaerys finally spilled himself in you, his seed painting your walls and filling you to the brim. Lastly, Cregan stained your shirt and flesh with his pearly drops, moaning so beautifully that it made you feel butterflies in your belly.

You hissed when Jace pulled out of you, feeling your legs shake while Cregan struggled to stand up from the bed and looking for something to clean you up while you laid against the younger’s body, who softly wiped the tears out of your face.

“Shh… it's okay, you did so good for us, my love,” he cooes, so gently. “So, so good.”

“I'm- I'm sorry,” you mumbled while Cregan returned to your side with a towel in his hand. With soft brushes he started to clean your thighs, your belly and the raw flesh between your legs. “I- I never meant to make you two feel bad… I was- I was being so selfish-”

“Hey,” Cregan stopped you, holding your face with gentleness; so different from his previous touch. “It's already behind us, okay?”

Once he finished cleaning you up, your body fell into Jace's embrace as he wrapped his arms around your body, pulling you closer to him and cuddling with you. He hid his face on the crook of your neck and softly hummed when the remains of your sweet perfume reached his nose.

“We love you so much,” he whispered, “please, don't ever do that to us again…”

You grabbed your face only to see his puppy, brown eyes. A gentle, soft kiss was shared as you felt Cregan laying down behind you and fondling your body, soon you three had your limbs tangled as you kissed and caressed each other without shame. Loving touches that relaxed all of you.

“I'm sorry,” you whispered again to the both of them. “I'll never do that again.”

“Do you promise?” Cregan asked.

“I promise,” you softly nodded.

The Northern boy leaned to leave a soft kiss on your cheek, you both shared a gentle smile which let you know that the anger that was once within him was now fully gone.

follow @by-fairysluna for updates!!

GENERAL TAG LIST — @islandfantasydream @arcielee @bucknastysbabe @zaldritzosrose @rafeism @valeskafics

CREGAN TAG LIST — @purplequxxn @iloveharbingers @jeongiegram @koobratzy @foxyanon

JACAERYS TAG LIST — @iloveharbingers @alynna-m @katharina1111 @simp-aholic

#house of the dragon #hotd #cregan stark smut #cregan stark x reader #cregan stark #jacaerys velaryon smut #jacaerys velaryon x reader #cregan stark x jacaerys velaryon #jaceagan #hotd smut #hotd fanfic #cregan stark x you #jacaerys velaryon #jacaerys velaryon x you

1K notes · View notes

raven-at-the-writing-desk · 8 days

Text

Deuce, Sebek: Like a Flower, Forever Blooming

Why does it look like Deuce is proposing to you with a tray of donut rings— WEH 😭 The birthday boy looks so handsome and gallant!! (Not usually the kind of comment I make for Deuce cksbsksnw) For some reason I tend to really like Deuce’s birthday cards…

His groovy is kinda funny too; Deuce looks like he wants to fight Alice… Interesting, because Ace acts in Alice-like ways, and he and Deuce are constantly bickering www

A Tale as Old as Time.

A girl found herself wandering into an enchanted garden. She was a tiny thing in her blue dress and pinafore, smiling sweetly at the colorful blooms surrounding her. They bore faces, those flowers—eyes, noses, and mouths, their expressions varying from curious to snarky.

The sunshine of the girl’s long locks, a youth sparkling with sensibility. They were a familiar sight.

It’s something straight from a story back home, Deuce thought.

He scrounged around for a smart comment to demonstrate his wit, his maturity. At last, he settled on: "I had no idea there were so many different looking flowers. I can barely name a few kinds.”

A dismissive grunt sounded.

"Hmph! You hail from the Queendom of Roses, don't you? And Heartslabyul is famous for its roses as well. You should be more familiar with the flora!" Sebek scolded him with a frown. "Have you no pride for your country or dormitory?! Truly, your behavior is beyond the pale!"

"I just never really paid much attention to the flowers before... I'm not the kind of guy with a green thumb. The most I do is paint the roses when the dorm leader tells me it's my turn."

"Unbelievable!! You disparage the noble perennials with that flippant attitude of yours!" Sebek shook his head. “Were you to lay your gaze upon Briar Valley in the springtime, you would surely come to appreciate them."

“Pere-what?”

“Perennials!!” Sebek folded his arms. He lifted his chin. “Don’t tell me you’re unaware of what they are! You must not be very well-read, human!!”

“O-Of course I know what they are!” Deuce stammered. “Wh-Who hasn’t heard of a para-knee-old before?!”

His fellow first year casted a doubtful look at him.

“… Okay, maybe I don’t,” Deuce admitted. His shoulders deflated along with his defiance.

“Perennials,” Sebek smirked triumphantly, “are flowers that return year after year. Roses are among them, but there are many others that fall into the category.

“When they bloom in the warm season, it is a scene to behold, a feast for the eyes! Then, come fall and winter, they wither and fade… and in spring and summer, they are born again! It is a most glorious, never-ending cycle.”

“Ah, so they live and die, then they’re brought back to life. Over and over… Endlessly?”

The gears in Deuce’s head slowly turned. Their teeth clicked into place, sparking a realization, a light in flickering on in his face.

“Oh?" The smugness in Sebek's voice was front and center. "Have you been swayed already? It certainly didn’t take much to persuade you.”

“I think I get it now, Sebek. Flowers are cool after all!” Deuce slammed a fist into an open palm. “Growing, getting older, dying, and coming back to life again… They’re like phoenixes!”

“In what way are flowers like phoenixes?!” Sebek bellowed, his volume shaking the paintings lined up on the walls. His words, however, seemed to fall on deaf ears.

“I wanna be like that too!! As tough as a flower that bounces back year after year!” Deuce passionately declared. “If I get knocked down, I’ll just get back up again! There’s gonna be no stopping me!”

He paused. "... Do you think I should add some flaming flower decals onto my Magical Wheel?"

"You've failed to take to heart a single insightful thing I've told you!! I would hardly consider this a revelation!" Sebek groaned, a hand upon his temple.

Typical foolhardy human, he surmised with a scoff. But still, he could sense a fighter when he saw one. The determination in Deceus's eyes was unmistakable. A blue-green as sharp and as clear as a cloudless summer's day, like a sword cleaving the heavens in half.

He had seen it many times over.

It was the look of a warrior.

"Listen here, human! There are a great many number of opponents in this world whose power may rival or even exceed your own. When you should encounter such strong foes… I hope you stand your ground. To betray your own promise would be disgraceful!”

“You saying I’d go back on my word?! No way! I definitely won’t run. That’s a coward’s way out.” Deuce grinned daringly—dangerously. “No matter what comes my way, I’ll own up to it. I’ll take it all on!”

#twisted wonderland #twst #Deuce Spade #Sebek Zigvolt #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #something no one asked for #Deuce birthday takeover #twst imagines #twisted wonderland imagines #twst scenarios #twisted wonderland scenarios #spoilers

124 notes · View notes

minaturefics · 2 months

Text

The Same at Heart

Request from @tolkien-fantasy: Eomer or Aragorn falling for an extremely intelligent reader who is witty and charming, but can be insecure and is reclusive when she gets tired (plus does translation of languages like elvish).

A/N: Hello friend! Thanks for the request :) I picked Eomer for this because 1. there isn't enough Eomer love out there and 2. I feel like him + reader's reclusiveness would make an interesting angst point lol I hope you enjoy it!!!

Eomer x Reader

Fem reader

No content warnings

3.2k

---

Meduseld was alive with music and laughter. Torches blazed in their sconces, the great fireplace lit, and everything glowed golden. Chatter filled the room, punctuated by the stomps and claps of the dancers, along with the clink of cups and the calls for more ale. There was an arm-wrestling competition occurring at one end of the room, and some sort of card game at the other.

Eowyn grinned beside you, her face flushed, and gestured to the room. “Are you glad that you came with me, my friend? You do not get celebrations like this in Minas Tirith.”

You laughed. “No, you most certainly do not.”

You had been introduced to Eowyn in Minas Tirith, assigned to help her translate some of the texts in the Houses of Healing from Elvish to Weston, and over the weeks the two of you had grown close. Eowyn was thankful to have another woman to confide in, and you were delighted and refreshed by her different ways.

She craned her head and scanned the crowd. “Where in Arda is Eomer? It is not like him to take so long to wash and dress.”

Your heart lurched at his name. He had not been at the hall when you and Eowyn arrived from Minas Tirith — he was at the Glittering Caves attending some matter with Gimli — and you were still yet to see him.

You smoothed down your gown and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, wishing that the hall was not so warm. Were you dressed well enough? Eowyn had assured you that it was an informal affair, but your cotton and velvet dress would not have passed for an evening dress back in Gondor. Perhaps you should have worn one of your silk one’s instead. Maybe you could rush back to your room and change before Eomer arrived.

“Ah, here he comes now,” she said and your eyes followed her gaze to where Eomer had entered the room.

He was greeted by a chorus of cheers and raised tankards. He grinned at his people, friends and subordinates alike, clapping them on their shoulders and shouting replies across the long tables. You swallowed, taking him in. He looked gallant and radiant, his hair golden and his fine doublet accentuating his broad shoulders. He truly was just as handsome in his more casual wear as he was in his armour.

Eomer’s eyes met yours from across the room and your breath hitched, memories from before rushing back to you. Him, throwing his head back, laughing at your joke, the warm sound filling the room. Him, asking about your translations, brows furrowed and eyes alight with awe. Him, glancing back at you, gaze intense and heavy, as his convoy rode out of the city.

“I wonder…” Eowyn muttered, watching her brother cross the room, a strange smile on her face. You raised your eyebrows in a silent question but she shook her head and laughed. “It is nothing.”

“Sister,” Eomer greeted, pulling her into a hug and squeezing her until she let out a little squeak. “It is good to see you. I am happy that you managed to visit.” He released her and looked at you, a wide smile on his face. “And you as well, my lady. I am glad to see you here tonight. I did not think you were one for parties.”

“I enjoy them on occasion.” Your smile grew sly and teasing. “Provided that the company is agreeable.”

He chuckled. “And have you found us agreeable so far?”

“Much more agreeable now,” you said with a smirk.

A slight flush rose on his cheeks and he coughed and glanced away. Eowyn snickered beside you. “How is your work coming along?” he asked, eyes coming back to you.

“Well enough. The work is easy, but tedious. The texts are long and winding, and very specific, and one has to be careful of mistranslations, especially in such things like medicine and healing.”

“No, I suppose one would not wish to mistake a poison for a cure.”

“Would it surprise you, brother, that many cures come from poison?” Eowyn asked.

You nodded. “It is the dose that decides whether one lives or dies. Too much of something is never good.”

He looked around the room. “I do not think one can have too much merriment.”

“Ah, but one can have too much ale.”

He laughed, low and full. “I cannot argue with that, my lady.”

“You would do well not to argue at all,” Eowyn grinned. “Even Faramir sometimes shrinks back from her debates.”

“He does not!”

“I have actually seen him hide behind Boromir,” she laughed.

“I wonder,” he said, a little softer, “if you find us crude and unlearned here without the same sort of lore and literature.”

You shook your head. “Unlearned does not mean unwise. And language is language, whether written or spoken. The words and lessons of your people do not mean any less simply because they are not recorded in books and scrolls.”

He nodded slowly, but still looked unconvinced. Eowyn, as though sensing his unease, smiled and said, “Do you know she is learning Rohirric as well?”

His eyes lit up, eyebrows rising. “Truly?”

“Eowyn has been teaching me, though we have only just begun.” He nodded, gesturing for you to speak, and you laughed. “I would not dare embarrass myself in front of the king with my untrained speech.”

He opened his mouth to reply but someone called for him from across the room. He glanced behind, gave you an apologetic smile and a bow, and left. Eowyn then looped her arm through yours and suggested taking a turn about the room. The rest of the evening was filled with introductions and chatter, the Rohirrim curious about your work and you interested in their traditions and legends.

But soon the noise became overwhelming, voices and laughter and clattering all fighting for your attention, and the room began to feel stuffy, the air growing thick and the bodies just all a bit too close. You glanced around the room, searching for Eomer, and found him laughing with a group of his men.

Your stomach clenched and you sighed. It would have been nice to speak to him again before the night was over.

With a few words to Eowyn, you slipped out of the hall and down the corridor that led to your room. You let out a long breath, weariness suddenly overcoming you, and shut the heavy door behind you. Your room was still and quiet, warm from the smouldering coals in the fireplace, and you sank into the cushioned bench, melting into the blessed calm.

Eomer ran his brush along Firefoot’s body in short, sharp motions. He was due for a grooming, and while Eomer normally let the stableboys handle it, he felt he needed a distraction. The scent of wood and hay, musky and earthy, soothed him while he worked. He did not understand you. He did not understand you at all.

Did he say something to offend you? Or perhaps you had taken offence to the fact that he did not come back to speak to you at the party? He grumbled to himself. He had wanted to, but there were so many people vying for his attention. When he extricated himself from them, he searched for you in the sea of bodies, but your familiar face had vanished. And then for the next few days, you had shut yourself up in your room or had gone on walks alone along the Barrowfield.

He sighed and laid his brush down. He started to work on the mane, unravelling the braid and untangling the soft strands. Firefoot snorted in approval and Eomer rested his forehead on the horse's neck and inhaled. He smelled like sun and grass, leather and sweat. Oh, Firefoot. Always so sure and steady. Eomer wished he could share in that security.

Or maybe you were avoiding him because you found him uncultured and uninteresting. You were so frighteningly quick and clever, always ready with some sharp observation or wry comment. And how beautiful you looked, poring over books, ink smudged on your cheek, eyes alive in the candlelight. The Rohirrim may be noble and valourous, but perhaps to a renowned Gondorian scholar, even the king of such people still seemed rough and brutish.

“Eomer?” Eowyn called and he lifted his head. “What is it that troubles you?”

“It is nothing.”

She joined him by Firefoot and stroked the horse’s muzzle. “Do not lie to me, brother, I can see it in your eyes.”

He let out a short breath and looked into his sister’s eyes. When did her gaze stop being so piercing and mournful? When did they become so gentle? They looked so much like their mother’s. “It is your friend, the scholar.”

“What is it?” Her lips curled up in a playful smile. “Has my dear brother grown fond of her perhaps? I suspected as much when I saw you last night — I do not think I have seen you so well groomed in years! And you were even wearing scent — no, do not deny it, I smelled it when I hugged you.”

Heat rushed to his cheeks and he shook his head. “It does not matter, she would not return my feelings.”

“Eomer! How can you say that?”

“You cannot tell me that you are not aware of what the Gondorians think of us.” He began to pace the stable, gesturing with his hands. “Bema, I know you know — we spoke of such things when you married Faramir.”

“And Faramir and I are happier beyond belief, no matter what some people of the court may think — I do not see how this is any different. My friend does not hold such foolish opinions.” The eyes sharpened and the steel he had come to know so well returned. “And do not forget, you are a king.”

“I am also a man,” he snapped. And then, in a rush, “I seek love as much as anyone else. I want to be wanted as I am, not for my title or my land.”

Her jaw tensed, and for a moment he was convinced she was about to unleash a lecture, but she sighed and shook her head. “Come, tell me what is on your mind.”

“I do not think she returns even a fraction of what I feel. We did not get to speak much that evening and I thought we could talk more in the coming days, but I have seen so little of her.” He ran his hand through his hair. “She is polite enough at meals, but afterwards she simply vanishes.”

She smiled indulgently. “She is just tired.”

“Tired? The journey from Minas Tirith was not strenuous was it? Unless you failed to tell me about some mishap or event.” He narrowed his eyes at her.

She laughed. “It is not the journey that tires her but people and noise and merriment.”

“I do not understand.”

“Not everyone is inclined to as much merriment and conversation as you are, brother.”

“But she was not like this when I was in Minas Tirith.”

“You had visited in a lull of parties and balls,” she said with exasperation. “I have known her longer than you have. This is simply how she is.”

“It is… it is not because of me?”

“Bema, brother. How could it be because of you?”

He looked down at his hands, callused and creased with dirt. “Perhaps she thinks me boring.”

Eowyn threw her arms up. “You are infuriating. Eomer, did she not spend most of her evenings conversing with you when you were in the city?”

“Yes,” he said slowly. “She asked me to tell her stories of our forefathers. And I had asked her about the nature of Elvish speech.”

“And did she not agree to come with me to Edoras when she had no obvious reason to?”

He paused and looked at her. “Are you implying she had come to… to see me?”

“If you do not believe me, ask her yourself!”

His heart swooped in his chest, spirit lifting. He knew his sister; she would not send him forth if she did not have confidence. Was it truly possible that you felt the same way? There was no way to know for sure if he did not ask you himself. He glanced out of the stables at the steps rising to Meduseld.

“I will go,” he said. “After I have had a ride.”

He stroked Firefoot’s cheek. Yes, a ride would rouse his heart and wake his courage. And then he would go find you.

You stood up and stretched, rolling your shoulders and circling your wrists. The evening sun was slanting into your room, casting long orange rectangles across your desk and the floor. With a satisfied sigh, you closed the two books on your table and closed your ink pot. You looked out at the thatched roofs, eyes drifting down the hill to the green Barrowfield and onto the plains beyond. In your chest you felt the stirrings of loneliness, the pull to find someone and speak and laugh with them.

Perhaps you should search Eomer out. After all, it was him that compelled you to follow Eowyn to Edoras. You smiled to yourself. Eomer with his fiery hazel eyes, his expressive brows, his hearty laugh. He was radiant when he spoke of Rohan’s heroes, voice rising and falling with the retelling, hands moving, pantomiming the scenes. A man so well liked, so well loved, by his people. Your smile faltered. Did he find you bookish and boring?

A knock sounded on your door and you walked over. It was probably Eowyn come to prod and poke you when she thought you had spent too many days in isolation. “I was just going to find you, Eo —” You flung the door open. “—mer?”

He stood in front of you, eyes bright and cheeks flushed. The scent of hay and musk wafted in and you wondered if he had just come in from a ride. He always looked handsome in his formal clothes but he looked best like this, slightly dishevelled, hair wild and clothes rumpled.

“I did not expect to see you at my door,” you blurted.

“I wished to speak to you.” His eyes darted over your shoulder into your room. “That is, if you are not tired.”

“Of course,” you said, smiling, and stepped out into the corridor. “Would you like to walk with me? I think some fresh air will do me some good. To the garden at the back?”

He nodded and you made your way out. The small patch of green, shaded with a few trees and bordered by shrubs, overlooked the city. You walked the dirt path to the edge and gazed out. The city was winding down for the day. Horses were being led to the stables, shops were packing their wares, and the delectable scent of roast meat and onions drifted out of the houses.

“Even Minas Tirith is like this in the evenings,” you mused. “People are the same wherever you go.”

“Do you truly believe that?” He sounded strange and strained behind you. “There are a great many people who would disagree with you.”

“They are fools,” you said, laughing. “At our hearts, we are the same. Do we all not yearn for a moment of peace in the sun? The comfort of a safe home? The arms of one who loves us?”

He came up beside you and looked over his land. He was solid and reassuring and you felt the urge to rest your head on his shoulder. How lovely it would be to have more evenings like this, looking over a prospering people, a friend, a lover, next to you. You fidgeted with your hands. Eowyn had said that she suspected her brother might harbour tender feelings for you. But if he did, why did he not act? He was an impassioned man, was he not? Perhaps she had been mistaken.

Perhaps he thought you too soft, too plain. Unworthy for a valourous king.

The dinner bell rang out from inside the house. You looked behind your shoulder and turned on your heel. “Ah, we should go in.”

“My lady, wait,” he said, reaching out to grasp your wrist.

“Eomer?” you glanced down and he moved to withdraw his hand but you wrapped your fingers around his before he could escape your reach.

He stared at your joined hands before his head snapped up, eyes wide. “Why did you come here? To Edoras? My sister said it was to see me but I can scarcely imagine —”

“Yes.” Your heart sped up. Why was he asking? He would only be asking if he —

He broke out into a wide smile and drew you closer. “So it is really true! Tell me, my lady, do you care for me?” His eyes darted away, then back to you. “I am not learned in poetry and prose, and perhaps if I was I could express myself in language more fit for someone like you. But even then, there are no words that can compare to the plain truth. You have my heart, my lady, and there will be no other for me.”

Your heart stopped. Then started again. Laughter rose in your chest and you giggled. You reached for his cheek. His beard was soft, his skin warm. “There is no other for me as well.”

“You would suffer an unlearned man?”

“You are not unlearned. Your knowledge and wisdom simply lies elsewhere. Valar, I wish you would stop thinking that of yourself.” He chuckled and you smiled. “And you? You would suffer a scholar? Whose mind is forever turning and thinking?”

“I would hardly call it suffering.” His smile turned sly. “Though, if you feel you suffer from your mind, I could perhaps aid with that.”

“What do you —”

He cupped your cheek and brought his lips to yours. They were soft and full, insistent but gentle. He tugged you closer and rested his hand on your waist. He smelled like grass and hay and the lingering scent of bergamot. You drew back and his lips chased after you, capturing them in another kiss. You sighed, relaxing in his arms, and curled your fingers into his hair.

“We should go in,” you whispered, pulling back. “Or Eowyn will come find us.”

“I do not mind.” He laughed. “It shall be repayment for all the times I stumbled upon her and Faramir.”

“Well, I mind. I do not need her teasing me all the way back to Minas Tirith.” He grimaced and you stroked his cheek with your thumb. “I will not be gone forever, my love. There is still work to be done with the translations, and my things are all still there. Do not fret, we can write letters while we are apart.”

“I suppose then, I should get used to picking up my pen.” His fingers flexed on your waist. “But do not think I shall be squandering your presence here. I intend to get my fill of you before you leave.”

“You are always welcome to me, my love,” you said, pressing a kiss to his lips. “Now until forever.”

#eomer x y/n #eomer x you #eomer x reader #eomer fanfiction #lotr fanfic #lotr fic #eomer

114 notes · View notes

ystrike1 · 1 year

Text

Watashi wo Koroshita Wanko-kei Kishi-sama ga, Yandere ni Job Change shite Kyou mo Inochi wo Neratte Kuru - By Usagi Hoshimi (8/10)

Welcome to time travel engagement hell! Your groom, who appeared out of the blue to save you, is also willing to murder you if you don't love him back. This particular yandere concept is a little confusing, but very dangerous. If our heroine doesn't satisfy her gallant husband's need for love he'll kill her, so she can never choose another man.

Tiana was originally engaged to a cheating prince named Dylan. His lover plotted against her in order to get rid of her, and it worked. Tiana is publicly shamed, and her loveless marriage is broken.

She loses the life she knew. No one believes her. Dylan exiles her over a false murder accusation, and she has no idea how to survive on her own. There's no evidence, but it doesn't matter. Dylan is the prince. His word trumps the truth.

A hero appears to save her. His name is Cyrus. He's a knight that serves a much larger, more powerful country! He's a better groom and he immediately proposes to her. He's also one of the most popular knights in the world. He's also extremely handsome.

How convenient.

In the first timeline Tiana accepts with a smile. She is grateful to be saved. A woman in exile has few choices. Cyrus saves her in more ways than one. He says sweet words. He cuddles her in the carriage. He says he has always had feelings for her.

Then, she is murdered shortly before her official engagement. Tiana believes it is for political reasons, but Cyrus is actually an obsessive and unstable man. We don't know exactly why he killed her, but it's likely because he thought she would leave him. I do hope the author explains why though. Tiana was originally eager to be saved by the brave knight. We really don't know why he turned on her.

So, in this timeline Tiana is more cautious. She rejects the proposal, but she still leaves the country with Cyrus. Why? She is a woman in exile, and no one else will host her. Tiana was never loved by the prince, and she was never very popular. She has been abandoned by everyone, so when Cyrus's master offers her a room in his castle she has no choice.

Prince Isaac thinks Tiana is just nervous. He damn well knows that Cyrus is deeply in love. He hopes she will accept his proposal later, after she becomes a citizen of his country. Tiana is too afraid to share her real feelings, so she sits in silence.

She has a dream about him. Cyrus is an amazing husband candidate. She doubts her own memories. His reputation is immaculate. If her memories weren't so clear she would be glad to have him.

Her dream distorts and she remembers more odd things. Before she was murdered Cyrus started...talking funny. She didn't know what to say to satisfy him. She went quiet, and he got more and more angry.

Tiana is in a very precarious situation. Cyrus has been devoted to her for his entire adult life. He saw her at an academy for nobles and that was it. If she married Dylan he was going to remain a celibate bachelor. How can she survive? Does she have to shower him with love? Does she have to say other men are trash? Was she killed because of a plot? Did an unknown snake convince Cyrus that she didn’t love him?

The stakes are high, and I like that. Cyrus is probably not going to wait long for an answer.

#yandere #male yandere #yandere male #yandere boy #recommendations #rec #recs #recommended #manga #otome isekai #Watashi wo Koroshita Wanko-kei Kishi-sama ga #Yandere ni Job Change shite Kyou mo Inochi wo Neratte Kuru - By Usagi Hoshimi (8/10)

446 notes · View notes

princesssarisa · 1 year

Text

If there's any character from Sleeping Beauty from whose viewpoint I might like to write a poem or short fic, it would be one of the four princes from Act I of Tchaikovsky's ballet.

Other, later retellings of the tale have also given Sleeping Beauty a suitor before she succumbs to the curse, but those princes are usually portrayed negatively, as silly fops in contrast to the charming prince who ultimately wakes her. The four suitors in the ballet, on the other hand, are perfectly nice, handsome, gallant young men. Aurora dances the famous Rose Adagio with them, and while she doesn't choose one of them to marry, she seems to like them well enough. Yet after sharing that beautiful moment of dance with her, with every reason to hope that one of them will soon be her bridegroom, they have to witness her fall under the spell.

Aurora's finger-pricking doesn't happen in a secluded tower in Tchaikovsky's ballet. The evil fairy Carabosse comes to her 16th birthday feast disguised as an old beggar woman, and (depending on the production) either gives her a drop spindle as a gift, which she takes naïvely because she's never seen one before, or gives her a bouquet of roses with a spindle hidden inside. Then she pricks her finger and collapses in front of the whole court and all the party guests, including the four princes. In some productions, one of the princes catches Aurora in his arms as she falls, and when Carabosse jubilantly reveals her identity, many productions have the four of them rush at her with their swords just before she vanishes. Then, after the Lilac Fairy arrives to assure everyone that Aurora is only sleeping, not dead, and to put the King and Queen and all the rest of the court to sleep too, in some productions it's the four princes who carry Aurora into the castle to her bed.

Even though Aurora doesn't fall in love with any of those princes, they still share something meaningful. When Aurora enters, her music and dancing is all childlike exuberance and innocence. But in the grand Rose Adagio – one of the most demanding showcases for a ballerina – she comes into her own both as a dancer and as a young woman receiving courtship for the first time. Arguably, the dance she shares with the four princes serves as her coming-of-age moment, which prepares her for her ultimate marriage to Prince Désiré/Florimund a hundred years later.

Yet there's no happy ending for those four young men. They have to watch Aurora succumb to the curse, fail to take down Carabosse, and then learn from the Lilac Fairy that Aurora is lost to them, destined to sleep until another prince finds her long after they're all dead. All they can do is reverently lay her to rest, then go back to their own lands, presumably to tell the rest of the world what happened.

I'd like to imagine that Prince Désiré/Florimund is the grandson or great-grandson of one of Aurora's four original suitors. A few other adaptations have the Prince who wakes Sleeping Beauty be descended from an earlier suitor of hers, so I'll imagine that's the case in the ballet too.

#sleeping beauty #fairy tale #ballet #the sleeping beauty #pyotr ilyich tchaikovsky #the four princes #supporting characters

290 notes · View notes

goodqueenaly · 1 year

Text

"It was for love," Sansa said in a rush. "Father wouldn't even give me leave to say farewell." She was the good girl, the obedient girl, but she had felt as wicked as Arya that morning, sneaking away from Septa Mordane, defying her lord father. She had never done anything so willful before, and she would never have done it then if she hadn't loved Joffrey as much as she did. "He was going to take me back to Winterfell and marry me to some hedge knight, even though it was Joff I wanted. I told him, but he wouldn't listen." The king had been her last hope. The king could command Father to let her stay in King's Landing and marry Prince Joffrey, Sansa knew he could, but the king had always frightened her. He was loud and rough-voiced and drunk as often as not, and he would probably have just sent her back to Lord Eddard, if they even let her see him. So she went to the queen instead, and poured out her heart, and Cersei had listened and thanked her sweetly … [sic] only then Ser Arys had escorted her to the high room in Maegor's Holdfast and posted guards, and a few hours later, the fighting had begun outside.

Not me thinking about how this moment reminds me so much of how I see Lyanna at various points in her situation with Rhaegar. We’ve not been in Lyanna’s head, of course, but I’d be willing to believe that at least when Lyanna met up with Rhaegar sometime around New Year’s 282 AC, she believed she was to some extent in love with him - the seemingly dashing, handsome, romantic prince who had named her queen of love and beauty before virtually the entire assembled aristocracy of Westeros against all social tradition. Just as importantly, I think Lyanna also believed that she needed an alternative, and soon, to her impending marriage to Robert Baratheon. Having been “long betrothed” to Robert by the time of the tourney of Harrenhal, Lyanna may have assumed or been told (especially in the aftermath of that shocking tourney display) that she would be married sooner rather than later to the Lord of Storm’s End (especially with Brandon’s own nuptials to Catelyn Tully, likely part of the same alliance bloc, imminent). There was no one who could stop this marriage from happening - except, perhaps, the Prince of Dragonstone and heir to the Iron Throne (but certainly not the paranoid, suspicious, violent king). If she married him first (and there was precedent, as Lyanna may have known, for polygamous marriages among the Targaryens), then she could not be legally married to Robert. It was Rhaegar, Lyanna may have thought, who could save her from this fate, and so Rhaegar she would turn to, making a journey across the Riverlands to somewhere near Harrenhal in order to escape with him.

These aspects of Lyanna’s story in turn recall certain parallels with Sansa’s story here. Just as so Lyanna might have seen Ned’s insisted that her fiancé “was a good man and true who would love her with all his heart” as the promise of a miserable future married to Robert, so Sansa imagines that Ned’s promise to “make [her] a match with a high lord who's worthy of you, someone brave and gentle and strong” would result in him “marry[ing] her to some hedge knight” when “it was Joff [she] wanted”. Too, just as Lyanna may have idealized Rhaegar, at least at this stage, as a perfectly chivalrous and loving knight and prince, so Sansa in this moment idealized Joffrey (describing him several times in AGOT as “her gallant prince” whom she describes in “Sansa III” as “worthier than his drunken father”, a deep contrast to the king who “had always frightened her”). In turn, just as Lyanna sought to avoid such nuptial doom, in her mind, by turning to an alternate royal power - not the king, but his son and heir - for a marriage to this prince instead, so Sansa seeks to stay with her (so she thinks at this point) beloved prince by appealing to an alternate royal power - not the king but his queen. The solution for both Stark girls was defiance to their paternal powers, circumventing their orders so that they might stay with the princes they imagine they love. However, just as Lyanna may have come to discover that her prince was a deeply unhappy man who may have seen her primarily, if not entirely, as a vehicle for prophetic fulfillment, so Sansa comes to discover that her prince was a cruel sadist who enjoyed only using her as an outlet for abuse and torture. Just as Lyanna ended her days trapped in a tower far from home (likely on the orders of that same royal power to whom she had appealed), guarded and imprisoned by Kingsguard while Ned and his companions battled them outside of it, so Sansa finds herself trapped in a tower far from home on the direct orders of her royal advocate, imprisoned by a knight of the Kingsguard and other guards, while her father and his men are attacked outside of it.

#asoiaf meta #lyanna stark #sansa stark #agot

287 notes · View notes

hubristicassholefight · 7 months

Text

Swordswoman Showdown 3rd place

Camilla Hect (The Locked Tomb) vs Brienne of Tarth (A Song Of Ice and Fire)

(Better here in a "preferred character" sense, not "who would win in a fight")

Camilla art by @friendamedes, used with permission

Propaganda below cut

Cam

trained w a rapier & knives. practical. handsome. extremely efficient and capable.; she’s my boyfriend and I love her. Please vote for cam she is my life

Gideon Nav uses one very large sword in defiance of the expectation that a cavalier should use a rapier, but Camilla Hect instead uses two. Just as much defiance of social expectation, twice as many blades. The reveal of her specific brand of swordiness is the heart of one of the book's most iconic lines: "Cam? Go loud."; In the spirit of the laconic charm of the Warden's Hand I will simply say "Camilla's competent."

She prefers two short swords but has been know to wield a rapier and other such bladder instruments; She also loves to organize spreadsheets

Go loud.

Brienne

gets gifted a sword made with the rarest metal ever because she’s THAT good; she’s simply the best

Brienne is one of the top sword users alive in her day. She's descended from a man who's catchphrase was "I'm better with a sword." Better than what? You. Jaime Lannister. Loras Tyrell. Any five given guys at once. She has a fantastic sword that might be magic or cursed and is named Oathkeeper because that's what she does; I love her

Beat like 20 guys in a tournament when she was 19. Was given a magic sword. Won a sword fight against the premier swordsman in the realm. Very swordly; Very tall and strong. Holds her sword in high esteem. Accomplished with other weapons as well!

She's defeated multiple of the top knights in the series in duels. One such knight gifts her the fabergé egg of swords and she uses it to defend orphans and stuff. Got out of a bad betrothal by dueling him and beating his ass so bad she broke multiple bones. Honestly there's so much more she is the swordswoman of all time. to me; She's buff and ugly and 6' 5" and so honorable and kind that she inspires the guy who fucks his sister to yknow. stop doing that. literally gets mauled for the sake of protecting a bunch of orphans (with her sword). also she's 20 she should be at the club ‼️

One of the best sword wielders in Westeros, the author says he would pick her to defend him. Has a cool sword called Oathkeeper. Manages to go up against 7 fighters and take out most of them,. The only true knight; First off, talking about book brienne, they massacred show brienne, the show runners simply didn’t understand what she’s about.“ She had no chance against seven, she knew. No chance, and no choice” brienne had plenty of choice but she couldn’t leave people to die. The chivalric paradigm is rotten and corrupted, but here is Brienne, the one true knight, who isn’t even a actual knight! “knights are for killing”, but here is a knight who risks her life again and again to protect innocents! Bri IS hope, she is the light in the dark that shows that things can be better, things must be better. Fundamentally an idealist: “Winter will never come for the likes of us. Should we die in battle, they will surely sing of us, and it's always summer in the songs. In the songs all knights are gallant, all maids are beautiful, and the sun is always shining”

#BRIENNE WON A MELEE WHEN SHE WAS 19 !!!!!#DONT LET HER LOSE

#MORE LOVE FOR BRIENNE#SHE FOUGHT A DAMN BEAR WITH A WOODEN SWORD#SHE AVENGED A MAN UNJUSTLY MAIMED#SHE PROTECTED CHILDREN AGAINST SEVEN MEN#NO CHANCE AND NO CHOICE

I'm going to put some propaganda for Brienne, because she deserves the world.

Some people have been quoting the "no chance, no choice" in the tags, but for those that don't know it comes from this scene:

...she could hear the faint clink of swords and mail from beneath their ragged cloaks. She counted them as they came. Two, four, six, seven. (...) Brienne sucked in her breath and drew Oathkeeper. Too many, she thought, with a start of fear, they are too many.(...) Brienne tried to keep the fear from her voice, but her mouth was dry as dust. The children, she thought. The door to the inn banged open. Willow stepped out into the rain, a crossbow in her hands. The girl was shouting at the riders, but a clap of thunder rolled across the yard, drowning out her words. As it faded, Brienne heard the man in the Hound’s helm say, “Loose a quarrel at me and I’ll shove that crossbow up your cunt and fuck you with it. Then I’ll pop your fucking eyes out and make you eat them.” The fury in the man’s voice drove Willow back a step, trembling. Seven, Brienne thought again, despairing. She had no chance against seven, she knew. No chance, and no choice. She stepped out into the rain, Oathkeeper in hand. “Leave her be. If you want to rape someone, try me.”

This is basically one of the most badass and awesome moments of the series... because here, Brienne is not guarding a King, vanquishing a great Evil Lord, or fighting a big glorious battle... this is an inn full of orphans being attacked by raiders, children whose lives really don't matter in the great scheme of things. If they were all to be killed, nobody powerful would really care, no history book would write their names.

The logical thing is to run away from there as fast as she could. And yet, Brienne decides to enter an unwinnable nightmarish battle (one where she gets her arm broken and her face eaten) because is the right thing to do. She is a true knight.

Because, in the dark pseudo-medieval world of Westeros, where the patriarchal martial system reigns supreme, there is no space for someone like Brienne, she herself said it best:

"You have a noble father who must surely love you. (...) I know he would tell you that he would sooner have a living daughter than a shattered shield." "A daughter." Brienne's eyes filled with tears. "He deserves that. A daughter who could sing to him and grace his hall and bear him grandsons. He deserves a son too, a strong and gallant son to bring honor to his name. (...) I am the only child the gods let him keep. The freakish one, not fit to be a son or daughter."

And yet, despite being on the fringe of this society that doesn't accept nonconforming gender expression, despite not being able to be named knight, Brienne is still the embodiment of the ideal of knighthood. She is a true hero, who over and over decides to defend the innocents and do the right thing.

So yeah, my conclusion here is... I think she and kiku should kiss <3

#camilla hect #the locked tomb #brienne of tarth #a song of ice and fire #finals #round 6 #official #poll #swordswoman showdown

68 notes · View notes

ryutarotakedown · 9 months

Text

thinking about susahao again. the thing about them is that it seems like a surface level ship at first, oh yeah they're childhood best friends and haori thinks susato crossdressing looks handsome, of course it's a popular background ship, but then it's like

like think about it from haori's perspective. you've always looked up to your best friend, who is so intelligent and reserved and kind, and she's going off to england for who knows how long but it's okay because she's your best friend and of course she'll write. just a little over a month before she leaves your mentor is murdered (and the killer gets off scot free, you have to see her face at your internship every day, always smiling and smiling and god how much you hate her), and you get transferred to work under your best friend's father in the same department, which - if there's one good thing to come out of all of this you suppose you can at least feel closer to your friend this way

except she doesn't write. and she doesn't write. and she doesn't write. and you can tell from her father's face that he knows why but he won't tell you, no one will tell you anything, but it's fine, you're nobody important anyway, you can wait. and then she comes back, and you run to the pier to meet her, but she's different somehow, holds herself even tighter than before like a single glance will break her, and you know there's something wrong even if she won't (can't) tell you anything. and you try to talk to her but she withdraws and withdraws and maybe you never meant anything to her in the first place, if this was all your friendship dissolved into

and then you are accused of murder. and you know it's not the time for such things but you've always been weak for a pretty face and your lawyer is so dashing and gallant! and wait, you mean-? is that you, su? and after that you can't think of her as ryuutarou anymore, you've never been any good at keeping secrets - you blurt out her real name at least twice in court - but you've also always worn your heart on your sleeve and you really can't help going red every time you look at your best friend, who looks so handsome, who you thought didn't even care anymore, but she got up at four in the morning to pretend to be an attorney and risk her entire career of being a judicial assistant for you -

and, oh. you're in love. maybe you always have been.

(and then she leaves again)

#susato mikotoba #haori murasame #rei membami #susahao #susarei #sorry for maintagging i just need more text posts about these two and like. be the change you want to see in the world right #g: ace attorney #jules.txt

130 notes · View notes

strangelock221b · 25 days

Text

S3E3 (spoilers abound)

I knew that was a dream, it was too romantic. But good, Colin needs a wet dream or two about Pen. It's sad that it takes this to get him to realize he's attracted to her but hey, whatever works.

So Gregory didn't break his arm from being in the balloon like everybody guessed, interesting. Still chaotic, but not in the same way.

Colin, please, promise me you'll never play poker -- you couldn't bluff convincingly if your life depended on it. I'm glad Hyacinth is supportive of Pen, even if Eloise isn't.

"Must be rich, must be handsome, and he must be of high rank." John Stirling is an earl, one of the upper ranks of the nobility. Just saying...

Philippa really is dim. Let's hope that in her and Prudence's case, intelligence skipped a generation and any kids they have inherit Portia's brain. She's not perfect but she's leagues smarter than those two.

Mrs. Varley says Pen has a visitor and I assume it's Colin or Debling. It's El and my response? An out loud "What the fuck?"

Oh, El. She's maturing (slowly) but she's not ready for them to be friends again yet. Maybe by the end of E4? And can I just say that I LOVE that blue dress Eloise has on? She looks lovely AND SHE HAS HER FLOWERS BACK! So, the show's costume designer was holding back her flowers until she became more herself, got it.

Pen in a park and everyone's talking about her. Ugh. Honey, none of them are worthy of you. Take note of who's talking down about you now and when you're on top, see which of them kisses your ass. They're the ones to avoid like the plague.

God, I love weeping willows, they're like natural gazebos. And this one is HUGE.

Sorry, Pen, but the tulle in your hair looks stupid. It looks too much like you accidently left a curling rag in.

So now they're both nervous, so cute. Colin's world has been rocked to its foundations and he needs to find his footing all over again.

So, Debling is a vegetarian and a naturalist. He seems to prefer animals to people. Considering the ton, I can't say I blame him. Lady Cowper is threating to arrange a marriage for Cressida if she doesn't get married this season. No unconditional love there, that's for sure. Cressida, get yourself a husband whose estate is far from your father's and tell your parents the roads are bad, so they can never visit. That should keep contact with them restricted to letters and the Season.

I really hope this earl who just introduced himself to Francesca isn't John.

God, I love Alice. She's a sweeter person than the ton deserves. She's right about Colin being gallant, too bad he's only just starting to realize how badly he messed up.

Debling uses odd animal metaphors and his humor is a little whack but I like the guy. As long as he's honest about why he wants a wife, I'll support him. He's cute too. Beards were unfashionable during this era, so it's another sign that he doesn't care about what other people think.

Aww, Cressida. Yeah, your family doesn't support you at all. I'd ship her with Debling if they weren't so obviously wrong for each other. She does need a good man to marry her but I don't think she'll find him this season.

Oh, Colin, you are so far gone for Pen. Do something about soon, please, before you lose her forever.

I do not like Eloise's outfit. It looks like a modern business suit with an extra-long skirt.

I take it back, I think I do ship Debling and Cressida, but if what he's after is just someone to watch his estate while he's gone, I think she can do better. Still, isolation might be what she wants, who knows?

Eloise is third- and fourth-wheeling. I'd feel sorry for her but hell, she deserves this.

I just had to look it up -- yeah, "marriage whisperer" is a phrase that could have been used back then since "horse whisperer" was a phrase that was already in use. Still, it sounds too modern.

So, Lord Samadani's a marquess, not an earl. Is his first name John? Does he have a first cousin named Michael?

Debling, you're the one who insisted on this three-way conversation, figure out how to end it politely. Colin is so jealous. Do something about it.

Prudence's husband really is dim. She married him for his looks, didn't she?

Rescues all around. Debling's going to have to make his decision soon, this is getting ridiculous.

Another ball. A handsome man gives Violet her accidentally dropped glove. I assume this is the "unwanted" visitor Agatha was complaining about. Blood relative? Widowed in-law? He's the right age bracket for Violet, so that's good.

Cressida looks ridiculous and miserable. I have to wonder whose idea these gowns are -- hers? Her mother's? The modiste's? Whoever, they have no idea what they are doing. This one looks more like modern haute couture, and ugly haute couture at that.

Pen and Cressida in a literal race to Debling, good lord.

Okay, so Samadani is apparently not John. Good, he doesn't understand what Francesca's after.

BROTHER?! Interesting. He's hot. I love his voice and his thoughts on having grown children. Wow, if this is Violet's "gardener," she'll be fucking the brother of the woman who fucked her father. England really is a small country.

Who took a bunch of spoon handles and put them in Agatha's hair?

Agatha is in her own personal hell, I love it.

Is THIS John? He's not Scottish, going by what little he's said. Disappointing, but not the end of the world. Loves the quiet, understands that people need quiet, he's perfect for Frannie.

Shonda, Shonda, Shonda. Yes, a Lady can be a married woman HOWEVER, the daughters of dukes, marquesses, and earls are also addressed as Lady, so Benedict assuming Tilley is married is wrong.

This dance Tilley and Benedict are dancing looks like a cross between a waltz and a tango. I'm sure the choreographer was told to just give them whatever moves look best on camera.

Cressida really looks like she's going to cry. Ugh. I don't want her to suffer her book counterpart's fate.

Colin looks like he's about to kiss Pen in the middle of a crowded ballroom then in comes Debling to steal her away for a dance. Colin, please, move faster next time.

#bridgerton #bridgerton spoilers #bridgerton s3 spoilers #colin bridgerton #penelope featherington #polin #eloise bridgerton #cressida cowper

20 notes · View notes

dutifullynuttywitch · 3 months

Text

Bumbling Adversaries

Blades of Light and Shadow

Pairing: Daenarya and Mal belong to the lovely Dani @lovealexhunt

741 words (teen – fluff)

A little birthday fic for the wonderful Dani @lovealexhunt. Happy birthday my dear friend!!! May this day bring you love, joy and laughter. You are a such a bright light in our little fandom and I am so very happy to have met you! I wish you all the best, today and always! 🩷🌺🌼

Your heartwarming stories of Mal and Daenarya are what pulled me into this fandom. I hope this little drabble makes you smile!

March Choices Prompt: I chose morning glory for your Mal and Daenarya as it represents affection, love, mortality (living life to the fullest). @choicesmonthlychallenge

In the newly merged realm, the Deadwood was slowly healing, a glorious spring defeating the long claws of death and decay, spreading new growth of maples, firs, leventrees and thousands of colourful flowers. Deep within stood an ancient temple predating the elven civilization. Its crumbling stone walls bore the weight of forgotten prayers and the echo of countless footsteps. The shrine was said to house a rune of boundless power, a fragment from the old gods.

The shrine had laid undisturbed for centuries until…

“RUN!!” Mal sprints out from the deeper recesses waving his arms wildly.

“Mal, what is it?” Daenarya looks around, alert, quickly scanning for the source of danger with a practiced eye.

Wordlessly, he grabs her hand and pulls her out and around the side of the dilapidated building, into a hidden alcove guarded by overhanging vines. He presses her to the stone wall, covering her protectively.

She can feel his heart beating wildly, clearly distressed by what he saw in the recesses of the temple.

Daenarya keeps a keen eye out for any threat even as she grows a little distracted by his warm body pressing against her. She snakes a hand up to gently pull his face towards her.

“Mal, what was it? Can we fight it off?”

He snaps out of his momentary panic and looks at her, suddenly a tad contrite, cheeks reddening.

“I... I stepped on a bees’ nest.”

Daenarya looks up at him, eyes wide.

“Bees?! That’s the big bad we’re hiding from?!”

She can’t help a small burst of laughter before his scandalized expression.

“Hey! See now, kit, these things have nasty stingers, and they were swarming angrily. I just saved us from a very unpleasant experience.”

She smirks, running her hands up his chest teasingly.

“Mal Volari, great adventurer and hero of the realm, fleeing from a swarm of ferocious, enraged bees.”

“Correction, protecting his beautiful lady and partner in adventures from said swarm of ferocious, enraged bees.”

“Ah, I see. I can already imagine the great ballads that will be written of your exploits, your magnificence. I’ll be sure to tell Kade all about it – I just know the patrons at Whitetower’s finest inns will delight in your heroics.”

“Go right ahead, kit. I’m quite confident I can spin whatever tale to my advantage.”

“I am glad to see your traumatic encounter hasn’t dented your ego.”

It’s Mal’s turn to grin, emboldened by her crystalline laughter and sparkling eyes. Gods she is beautiful. He still couldn’t believe his luck. That such a wonderful, smart, and brave woman truly wanted to share her life with him. She was his, and he was unconditionally hers.

He dips his head and captures her lips in a playful kiss, snaking his arms around her waist to pull her closer.

He kisses the corner of her lips, along her jaw, and whispers in her ear, "Daenarya, your laughter is my favorite melody."

Mal picks a bright purple morning glory from the hanging vines surrounding them and places it delicately in her hair, brushing a loose strand from her forehead.

Daenarya smiles at her handsome rogue, murmuring "how gallant," before capturing his lips in a sweet kiss.

Time stands still as they kiss languidly under the fragrant flowers, the midday sun peaking through the vines warming them.

Eventually, Daenarya pulls away with a soft sigh.

“Alright your magnificence, we’d better head back in there, unless you want to tell Tyril a couple of angry bees kept us from retrieving the rune?”

“No way – I’d never hear the end of it!”

Mal steals one last heated kiss, a promise of more to come.

“To be continued, my beautiful Daenarya.”

Hand in hand, they step back inside the temple, ready to face any evils, their easy laughter sending out joyful echoes.

#playchoices #blades of light and shadow #mal volari #mal x daenarya #choices bolas

21 notes · View notes

writerinparadox · 5 months

Text

I'm horrible at maintaining continuity when writing, but ngl, it came to mind while I was reviewing the au, and here we are. Hehehe.

◇ Characters: Dazai Osamu!

— Coffee!MaleReader x BSD

◆ "Weird stranger."

Time was flying fast, wasn't it? Deliberately thinking about the way that boy simply answered you when you handed him his coffee, it would certainly have been your most curious experience of the week, but of course, a simple person in a world with people with skills. Nothing was surprising.

You sighed as you waited for your companion to pass you another order, but puzzling over the way nothing was still coming to you even though it had been a few minutes, you approached your companion on duty only to notice a certain chestnut, being kind of gallant with her.

— So, 'donna, would you agree to choke me with those beautiful hands of yours? —

Noticing your companion's confused face, you figured you'd do the normal thing before she scared the other customers away by hogging time in line. Carefully, you walked out to the cleaning room and grabbed an empty bottle of the kind they used to dispose of cleaning fluids more easily.

Making sure it was clean and avoiding being dangerous, you went back to your partner, who, surprise, surprise, was still trying to wait for the boy to say his order.

You interrupted before the brown man began to speak, noticing how his eyes went through you, your coworker, and you once again until he looked at the water spray you had in your hand.

—No, excuse me, I found myself completely cajoled by your beautiful co-worker that I forgot.—

-Please order your order quickly to prevent you from continuing to hog time in line.- You explained, as you watched him nod to hear you, name one of the coffee on the menu carefully before he passed you the note with the order, you passed the spray with water to your co-worker on duty.

The silent laugh of your companion to the set of a nod was enough to know that she understood what you were trying to point out to her, thus exchanging the note with the order of the chestnut with the water sprayer.

You worked with precision, noticing that he had already started to attend to another customer. Already more comfortable, you moved confidently while making the coffee, making sure to do what they asked for. You finished it in record time. But when you finished, you noticed how the brown guy was looking at you all the time while you were working, making you slightly nervous.

—Dazai Osamu?—

—Here.—

You watched his expression, and, as a smile covered his face, you carefully passed him the coffee he asked for.

—If it's not too much trouble, can I know the name of my handsome boy at the coffee shop?—

You heard him speak automatically after stating who he was, but you frowned slightly when you felt how he mistakenly touched your hand. You should definitely ask for more pay for having to deal with all kinds of weird people.

—No, have a nice day, bye.— Assuming from his reaction, the response you gave him was not one I expected, but he still smiled at you while showing a soft pout form on his lips as he left thanking you in a polite manner.

You watched him as his figure left the place and you looked at him as suddenly. Now you had about 3 orders waiting for you, instinctively deciding to get to work.

Mainly, entering the cafeteria was not something planned, but after Atsushi, his own boy, abandoned him, trying to follow Kyouka into that new food area, he ended up being discarded in the worst way.

How could they do this to him?

He actually got sidetracked trying a new method nearby, but ended up failing automatically, causing him to fall into surrender for the day, leaving him to wander the streets of Yokohama as he calmly wondered how Atsushi and Kyouka fared with their day off.

Noticing a coffee shop near where he was, recognizing the name, he recalled how he listened to Kunkida's nagging for a while and about how he deliberately complained, about how when he looked for Ranpo, he found him drinking coffee and waiting on a bench.

Assuming the place was interesting, enough to make the agency's flashiest detective had to go in and buy a coffee. He saw no problem with doing the same.

But of course, being too calm sometimes didn't sit well with his character, he decided to seize his moment when he found the young lady taking orders, wasting no time, throwing in the occasional compliment.

Getting a little carried away, he deliberately noticed how the boy who was in charge of making the coffees passed by to go to a room for a few minutes. Attempting to continue the flirtation, he suggested a romantic way where the poor girl would hang him so he could rest in peace.

Until his attention was diverted to the boy from before, who looking at him as attractive as he was, the brown's attention attacked directly the spray bottle filled with water, feeling nervous deliberately, he tried to look at the lady who from the beginning was trying to court to end up looking at the boy.

Just by exchanging words with him, he felt his nerves rising, not having noticed that a line began to form behind him, something regrettable, but understandable, apologizing more calmly to the lady and asking for a coffee.

Before even attempting to make another move, his body just went to sit in one of the chairs to wait; after all, he did order his coffee to go.

Almost as if it was his punishment for hogging so much time with the poor lady who had caught his attention. Where he had sat he didn't have the option to see her, he could only watch the guy from earlier at work.

Almost hypnotic if it weren't for the fact that he somehow felt the slight threat of ending up being doused with water if he continued to fool around, but he wasn't complaining about being attacked like this either.

At least it wasn't a workload he'd end up putting off or subtly throwing at Atsushi.

Hearing his name, it came out of the boy's voice. God, that sounded good to hear him say her name, if it wasn't that there was a chance it was a skill of the boy's, he would have for sure fallen to flirting with him.

With a gentle slip, Dazai touched his warm hand for the current job done and denied his suspicions upon hearing the answer. It was just a possibility that wasn't real, equally surprised by the empty answer and the hurried goodbye. He nodded as he smiled and made his way outside.

He should come this way again, precisely to escape Kunikida if the situation calls for it.

#bsd x reader #bsd dazai #bsd #writing #dazai osamu #bungou stray dogs dazai #dazai x reader

38 notes · View notes