#can't blame the guy
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malcontentonline · 1 year ago
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cheeseburger443 · 15 days ago
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"I've got my eyes on you..."
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elitecabela · 2 months ago
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Bro thinks he's soooooooo slick
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mokkagren · 4 months ago
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some doodles of @dark-lord-of-awesomeness's fic "How to Cat Burglar a Family" (or the extras actually but whatever)
I have been eating, breathing and living this fic because i love it so much, i actually just caught up with the extras and i'm so down to read some of the side fics hehehe
also chapter 58 of the extras literally made me melt like ughhhh them !!!! i love them, the blorbos
(i've been doodling a bunch of cat stan while in school actually lmao)
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paddysol · 7 months ago
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what an entertaining 12 hour stream. time to watch another one! :'D
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galgali · 1 year ago
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jekyll and hyde is not about an evil guy who independently inhabits a good guy's body it's about a guy who consciously and intentionally has an evilsona
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starmocha · 8 months ago
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Bride of the Dragon King :: Prelude
[Sylus/Reader ★ 465 words  ★ Masterlist ★ Series Index ★ AO3] Tonight, the wine tasted so sweet. A/N: I yapped on my tumblr about how I wanted a dragon!Sylus AU…so I willed it into existence. 😊 This is the prelude to a technically 3-part story. The main story will be a 20K+ word one-shot, so I feel justified in a shorter intro. I am still finalizing the main story, so I want to give people time to read the prelude first. While the prelude is SFW, the main story and epilogue will contain explicit adult themes, so it's best for MDNI. Influenced to varying degree by the Vietnamese origin myth, Lạc Long Quân and Âu Cơ, and the C-drama, Miss the Dragon…and probably a whole slew of other period C-dramas I watched in the past. Recommended Playlist Love and Deepspace - Wander In Wonder Shuang Sheng - 流转莹回 ☆ I can do a tag list for the main story once it's up. Just let me know in the replies, and I'll keep a list handy. ☆
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Distantly, in the Celestial Realm where the immortals resided, the vast kingdom of the Dragon King was shrouded in nighttime for all of eternity, stuck within an eternal spring. Pink petals from the ever-blooming flowers of the magnolia trees were carried away in the warm breeze across the palace courtyard.
Sylus, the Dragon King, lazed under a grand magnolia tree with red blossoms overlooking a large koi pond, his solemn gaze lingering on the reflection of the full moon in the still water. He poured wine from a crimson porcelain bottle into the matching cup, and he took a swig of his drink, sighing.
The moon is lovely tonight… he thought, The wine tastes so sweet…
Red magnolia blossoms drifted down from the tree, landing in the water and startling the fish beneath, the immediate ripples distorted the reflection of the moon. Sylus kept his own crimson eyes on the floating flowers.
Little Snake, this is not much, but you are welcome to stay with me for as long as you would like!
He huffed in amusement, eyes drifting to a different flower.
You are so shameless. How can you ask a maiden to bathe with you?
He poured another drink, chuckling, but there was little joy in his laughter.
You are not allowed to get hurt! …Promise me you won’t get hurt again...
His cup lingered at his lips momentarily, a look of guilt flashed across his features before he tossed the drink back, sighing heavily.
Sylus…I don’t want you to leave…
He leaned back against the tree, eyes wandering to the moon. On the ground next to him was a necklace, its pendant pure gold with a jade border. Engraved on one side was the image of a dragon with wisps of cloud beneath it. When Sylus picked it up, his fingers caressed the other side, tracing the characters that formed the word, “Beloved.”
Another flower drifted into the pond, spinning slowly before it floated away.
…Who are you?
He closed his eyes, his hand tightening into a fist around the pendant as he made his decision.
He was going to rewrite their story. The red thread that tethered them together was going to unravel and lead her back to him.
All of it was going to be undone, and a new ending was going to replace all of the tragedies that were and were to be.
For her…
Heaven and Hell were going to bend to his will, he vowed.
For us…
As Sylus finished the wine, a white mist enveloped him, swirling before scattering and leaving nothing in its place beneath this red magnolia tree. In the night sky, among the millions of stars, a white dragon flew away, his scales shimmered in the moonlight before he disappeared into the horizon.
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pagerunner-j · 1 year ago
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Meanwhile, RTD's writing fix-it Star Wars fic into Doctor Who because he's still annoyed at Rey's ordinary family turning out not to be ordinary. And, seriously, mood.
It’s so funny being both a Star Wars fan and a doctor who fan because everyone in the Star Wars fandom is begging for originality and not nostalgia bait and everyone in the doctor who fandom is going please please please give us more nostalgia bait
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peachylynnie · 9 months ago
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adding on to that one theory where the reason sylus is so affectionate and forward with us is because he's running out of time, i would like to point out that one of his soundtracks, feast of desires, has a timer-ticking sound effect...
it acts as the bridge of the soundtrack. i linked the soundtrack here if anyone wants to listen to it. the sound effect starts at 2:32.
i haven't played the game long enough to know what the devs are like. but knowing how much detail and effort they put into zayne, rafayel, and xavier's myths, i don't think the timer-ticking sound effect was put in there for no reason.
and we already know sylus' myth is going to be angsty so...
just food for thought.
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royalarchivist · 1 year ago
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Pac: Take care of Ramon, take care of Richas, ok? See you on the other side, big boy.
Fit: [Laughs] Take it easy, big boy. Take it easy, big boy. Actually, nononono– You can't just say "big boy" and then just expect me to not drag you outta here. [Fit tries to lasso Pac] You're coming with me.
Pac: No, I need to leave!
Fit: You're coming with me. You are not dying today! You are not dying today!
Pac: I need to leave, Fit! I'm sorry, I'm sorry!
Ironmouse: Are you guys like, having sexy time?
Fit: There's homosexual activity going on Mouse, don't worry about us, ok?
Ironmouse: You guys, we don't have time to be gay right now.
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[ Full Transcript ↓ ]
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Pac: I'm just here to say goodbye to you, Fit.
Fit: Goodbye? We're not– we're gonna be fine, we're going to get out of here, don't worry.
Aypierre: Yeah, don't worry!
Pac: I know, but like– I will sleep until the end, you know? I will pass through this moment sleeping, man. I won't be able to be awake for the moment.
Fit: [Laughs] You know, it's– I mean, if that's how you wanna go, but– I mean, that- I mean, isn't that bed kind of like.... I don't know, it's–
Pac: No no, I will be staying on the sofa, you know, I will be staying on the sofa.
Fit: Oh the sofa. Ok, that's a nice sofa! Yeah, that is a pretty nice sofa.
Pac: Yeah, it's a nice sofa right? No, yeah– I'm going to stay on the sofa, you know? So, since I will be going Fit... [Pac starts tossing Fit all his items]
Aypierre: [Not paying attention to their conversation] Is that bigger cell? I don't think it's a bigger- biggest one.
Fit: Oh... Thank you Pac, thank you.
Pac: Everything you need to survive, ok?
Fit: Wow.
Aypierre: Wow.
Pac: And if you need this one also, maybe, who knows? [Throws him more items]
Fit: Ohhh, well hey– just take this to remember me by, ok? [Tosses him a photo of himself – the same one Aypierre was carrying all day yesterday]
Pac: [Laughs] Ok, I will sleep holding the picture you know, like this. You know, I will dream about you, Fit. And I hope this is gonna be good dreams. I see you in the other side. Good luck, my friend.
Fit: The other side... Yeah, you know, yeah, we– we– you know? It's been an honor, Pac. It's been an honor, you know?
Pac: Yeah, for me too, you know? Take care of Ramon, take care of Richas, ok?
Fit: Ok.
Pac: See you on the other side, big boy.
Fit: I will sing your praise– Oh yeah, hey– [Laughs] Take it easy, big boy. Take it easy, big boy. Actually, nononono– You can't just say "big boy" and then just expect me to not drag you outta here. You're coming with me.
Pac: No, I need to leave!
Fit: You're coming with me. You are not dying today! You are not dying today!
Pac: I need to leave, Fit! I'm sorry, I'm sorry!
Fit: Sorry, there's–
Pac: I'm sorry!
Ironmouse: Are you guys like, having sexy time?
Fit: There's homosexual activity going on Mouse, don't worry about us, ok?
Ironmouse: You guys, you guys– we don't have time to be gay right now, come on. There's no time.
Pac: No, there's no time! Oh, goodbye Fit...
Fit: Ok, c'mon, no no no, come on, we got this we got this!
Pac: Goodbye Fit, I'm sorry!
Fit: [Laughs] Oh no...
#Pactw#FitMC#Hideduo#FitPac#QSMP#QSMP Prison#January 22 2024#So canonically how do you guys view this moment?#Did Pac just canonically conk out from stress?#Did he take sleeping pills on purpose to sleep through whatever awful thing was inevitably going to happen?#Curious to hear what other people think#I like to imagine the stress finally got to him#He spent the entire time trying to mirror things he saw Cell doing#and finally cried about it to Bagi#I can't blame him if he wants to sleep through the rest of it. Man's living in a place that's actively making him relive past trauma#Fit says he's carrying Pac in his backpack but I like to imagine that he just gave Pac a piggy back ride the entire way home :D#I imagined that for Purgatory too#it's cute#idk the whole idea of very traumatized characters being so comfortable around certain people#Idk the idea Pac feeling so safe around Fit#(despite being in a place that is actively stressing him out)#that he feels alright falling asleep and trusting him / Mike to protect him is sweet to me#Idk man I'm a big fan of the ''literal sleeping together'' trope#I love when characters take naps together it's so cute#esp when it's two traumatized characters with a lot of baggage / trust issues#It's nice#anyways I got way off topic with these tags LMAO sorry#I was gonna edit this down but I like the entire conversation so I'm leaving it as is#The YouTube editor living in my brain: Not great for viewer retension#Me: Shhhhhhhh I'm an Archivist. I can do whatever I want.
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askponyboymcurtis · 2 months ago
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pony does cherry like you?
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“Cherry? Damn, I haven’t thought about her in a good while.”
“I don’t think she dislikes me. She stood up for in the trial ‘nd, all that. Forgave me—us—even if me ‘ne Johnny hurt her."
"We don't talk, or nothin'. She's graduatin' soon, 'nd she made good on her promise of not talkin' to me durin' school. I can't blame her, or nothin'. She told me she would, 'nd all that."
"We're friendly, at the very least. We don't got it out for eachother."
-- PB CURTIS '65
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writing-intheundercroft · 10 months ago
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Ser Freckles // S. Sallow
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Rating: T
WC: 2,743
Summary: As heir to the throne, the princess takes appointing her sworn protector very seriously.
A/N: Submitted as part of a writing challenge because I'm a glutton for starting AU projects. inspired heavily by HOTD (I've been looking for an excuse to use the name Gawayne). Much love to the pals who keep Knight!Seb living in my brain <3
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“Now that you are of age, and officially the heir to the throne, it’s time you appoint your first sworn sword.”
She looked up to Fig as they walked down the stone stairs, the excited chatter from the courtyard echoing off the walls.  Fig had been her tutor all her life, and only now did she realize her lessons with him had a greater purpose.  She was the only daughter of the king’s dearly departed brother, a king who lacked any heirs of his own.  And now that she’d turned eighteen, with no hopes for a male cousin in sight, she had been formally invested as the heir apparent.
Fig was no lowly court tutor, she realized. He’d been placed with her from her youth, preparing her for what had seemed like a distant possibility that she might one day become queen. Lord Eleazar Fig, a member of the King’s Counsel, had been priming her to take power all along.
”I’m not sure why I can’t keep Lady Singer,” she mumbled, kicking her skirts as they continued their descent. “She’s been my guardian for as long as I can remember.”
”Lady Singer is a governess,” Fig reminded her. “And in no way capable of being your sworn protector.  The young man you choose today will become a knight, sworn to your king's guard.  Can you remind me what the function of your king's guard is?”
”My queen’s guard,” she snipped, emphasizing the word, “will protect my counsel and me from harm, as well as my future heirs.”
“Precisely, Princess.” Fig smiled. “It’s largely a symbolic role considering the relative peace our realm has seen this past one hundred years, even more so with the city watch taking guard of the castle.  But the king—er, queen’s guard is a deep rooted tradition each house takes very seriously.  The gentlemen we’ve assembled today for your selection come from some of the great houses of the realm.  Others have been lauded for their bravery and skill in the battlefield.”
The princess and Lord Fig walked to the balcony, the crowd below falling into silence. There were six men (boys, she observed, especially considering she’d grown up with four of them around court) standing in the courtyard below.  They all wore gleaming armor, save for the last, wearing a dull set without embellishments.  Each had a pennant with their house sigil, members of their families standing behind them. The animals on each pennant were embroidered with gleaming metallic thread–lions, eagles, badgers, and snakes taking center, representing the great houses each family bowed to. 
Lord Fig took her hand, helping her stand on a stool to catch a better glimpse of her future knight.
”The first proposed candidate is Ser Leander Prewett,” Fig stated loudly. “Ser Leander is the second son of Lord Lyonel Prewett.  He is a fine duelist, trained by one of the land’s most notable swordsmen.”
She cocked her brow, observing the redhead below.  Tall, lithe, with a glorious mane of red hair.
”And rather shit on a horse,” she muttered under her breath. “Did you see him in the last tourney?”
”Horsemanship is not a requirement of a knight, Princess.” Fig muttered.
”He truly had no idea if he was facing the front, or the back.” She joked. 
Lord Fig concealed his laugh in a cough. He waved his arm, and Leander’s gleaming smile vanished into a rather sour expression as the next option stepped forward.
”Ser Garreth Weasley,” Fig announced. “The third son of Lord Gwayne Weasley.”
”I know Ser Garreth well,” she smiled demurely. “Is it not one of the oaths as my queen’s guard to take no wife, have no children, and to be sworn to uphold the duties of the crown until death or dismissal?”
”It is, Princess.”
She clicked her tongue. “I know very well my dear friend Lady Natsai would be quite upset if I took her beloved to my service.  I’d rather see the two of them happily married than split apart by duty.” She waved him backwards, knowing Natty would be pleased.  Garreth stepped back, cheeks red, but a relieved look on his face.
“The next option is Ser Amit Thakkar,” Fig looked down at his notes. “Son of the Dowager Lady Tara Thakkar. No notable tourney experience, he’s been—“
”Away for his studies in the new world,” the princess interjected. “I know Ser Amit quite well. Tell me, Ser, how was your research on the skies?  Anything new to report?”
“I’ve identified at least twelve constellations once lost to our maesters,” Amit announced excitedly. “And I do look forward to finding more.”
She tilted her head to Fig, eyebrows raised. “I do believe Ser Amit’s talents are better used with the college of maesters, rather than as a member of my queen’s guard.”
”Moving on,” Fig tutted. “Ser Duncan Hobhouse, son of—“
”No.”
”Okay, on to the next.” Fig winced, letting the young Duncan Hobhouse step back with a sigh. “Next is Ser Isaac Cooper. Son of Ser Tristan Cooper, the Lord Commander of the city watch.  Strong, steady, and good with a lance.  Ser Isaac has topped the tourney lists, specifically winning the tourney of Aranshire this past spring. ”
The princess chewed her lower lip as she appraised Ser Isaac.  He stood tall, black hair cropped closely to his head. His parents stood behind him proudly bearing the badger on their sigil.  Isaac gave her a beaming smile, followed by a rather obvious wink.
“I look forward to serving you, my princess, in all ways you see fit.” Isaac said loudly, followed by a showy bow. A gaggle of young ladies on the upper balcony giggled audibly, Ser Isaac blowing a kiss to his admirers.
The princess gagged, wrinkling her nose as she turned back to her tutor. 
”A tourney knight,” she huffed. “Tell me, Lord Fig, do any of these knights have real combat experience?”
Fig sighed deeply, beckoning forward the sixth option.  It was the knight in plain armor; unlike the others, he did not have a large gathering of family members behind him.  A thin, peaky girl stood by his side, wobbling on her feet as their sigil shook in her hands. The green velvet of the flag looked worn, but a silver snake had been embroidered into the fabric with metallic thread, red beads for eyes.  Behind them was a stern looking man, beard peppered with silver hairs.  
The boy paid them no attention, standing forward with his head bowed to her. 
“Ser Sebastian Sallow,” Fig cleared his throat. “The nephew of Ser Solomon Sallow, a former knight of the city watch.  He was dismissed from his post after the death of his brother, taking on the stewardship of his young niece and nephew.  Ser Solomon and his nephew Sebastian have taken the responsibility of patrolling the lower highlands, protecting their hamlets from ashwinders and poachers.”
She leaned forward over the railing, interest piqued by the humble knight below. “Tell me, Ser Sebastian, of your experience fighting against the ashwinder rebellion.”
He lifted his head, big brown eyes framed by an explosion of freckles. He had a round, boyish face for eighteen, thick brown hair descending in waves. A blush took over his cheeks as he dipped his head once more.
”I have fought against the ashwinders for the past five years, Princess.  For as long as my uncle has allowed me.” He said, tipping his head back towards the stern man. “The lower hamlets rarely see reinforcements from the city watch, so it is up to the residents themselves to gather arms.”
“And when did you become a knight, Ser Sebastian?”
Sebastian turned briefly to look at his uncle, who merely nodded. “The Lord Commander of the city watch was passing through our hamlet when he witnessed me apprehending a cohort of ashwinder assassins.” He adjusted his grip on the helmet in his hands, metal clanking as he shifted.  Unlike the others, there were no grand decorations, no feathery plumes attached to the helmet.  It was practical, well-worn steel that had seen battle many times before. “He knighted me on the field, after the battle.”
”One boy against twenty ashwinders,” Fig whispered in her ear. “Quite a feat.”
She braced her palms against the stone ledge, hair falling over her shoulders. He looked up at her intently now, eyes wide.  even with his armor on, she could see his throat bobbing, swallowing down his nerves.  
“That settles it for me. I choose Ser Sebastian Sallow.” 
The hall descended into loud whispers; the girl holding his sigil gasped with delight, while the man behind her dropped his mouth open in shock.  Sebastian knelt, but kept his gaze fixated upon her.  It was as if the chocolate brown orbs were burning into her, somewhere between admiration and curiosity. 
Fig gave her a knowing look. “Ser Sebastian it is.”
”I’ll leave the details to Ser Sebastian’s investiture to you, Lord Fig.” the princess said, stepping down from the stool. Her heels clattered against the floor, hands folded behind her back. “And measure him for new armor.  Something befitting my sworn protector.”
”The customary armor, of course, with your sigil on the pauldron.” Fig noted.
She paused, turning one last time towards her counsel.
”Don’t forget his snakes.” She reminded him. “Silver with ruby eyes.”
Fig tried to conceal his smile. “Yes, princess.”
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“You know we’re not allowed in the armory,” Poppy hissed, trying to tug on her skirt. “Lady Singer–”
“Lady Singer can kiss my arse,” the princess declared, enjoying the way her lady in waiting’s cheeks flushed. “I would like to supervise the fitting.  Will you join me?”
“I think not,” Poppy lifted her nose. “I’ll be off to the library to meet with Imelda.  You should stay out of trouble.” the brunette warned.
The princess pulled open the heavy door of the armory, grinning at her friend. “Trouble is my middle name,” she sang, waving goodbye as she entered the room.  The normally bustling armory was quiet at midday, with most of the knights standing guard.  She stepped past the rows of white cloaks, all hung under their corresponding owner’s name.  Weapons were stacked against the wall on wooden racks; she wouldn’t dare go near the spears, swords, and morningstars for fear of tipping them over.  Her slippers pattered against the flagstone floors as she walked deeper into the chamber in search of her new knight.
“There you are,” she declared, seeing him standing on the pedestal. Ser Sebastian Sallow stood in his freshly tailored white breeches and shirt, half dressed in his new gilded armor.
“Princess,” the armorer bowed his head quickly, stepping away from Sebastian. “I did not realize you were coming in to supervise the fitting.”
“Is it not tradition?” she asked, circling the pedestal with an approving nod.
“It is,” the armor rubbed his hands together anxiously. “For the king.  But you are a young lady, it’s hardly appropriate for you to be in the armory with a knight in a state of undress–”
“Ser Sebastian is my choice,” she pointed out. “So I will supervise the fitting of his armor and his sword selection, just as my uncle did for his sworn swords.”
“As you wish, princess.” The armor nodded. “I’ll fetch his sword at once.”  He bowed, walking backwards out of the room.
“Are you always so commanding?” Ser Sebastian asked, a hand on his hip.
“Only when they’re so formal.” she grinned, crossing her arms. “The armor looks good on you.”
Sebastian’s cheeks flushed. “Thank you.” he stammered. “And thank you for honoring my house.” he gestured to his pauldron, decorated with the Sallow family sigil. Instead of the crudely carved 
The armorer returned, holding a glimmering sword with a checked handle. “His sword, your grace.” he handed it to her for inspection. “I shall return shortly with his cloak; the seamstress was just finishing the hem.” He backed out of the room once more, leaving the pair alone.
The princess bobbed her head as she held the sword in her hand, testing its weight. “Good balance,” she mused, tossing it from one hand to the other.
“You’re trained with a sword?” Sebastian asked, eyebrow cocked.
She gave him a toothy grin, swinging the sword from side to side. “My uncle thought it best that I was taught the same as any other prince of the realm.” 
“I certainly agree,” Sebastian offered. “I trained my sister as best as I could before coming to the capitol.”
“Well then, should we practice for your investiture?” She asked. “On your knees, then.”
Sebastian sank to the floor, beaming up at her obediently.  He tipped his chin upwards, right hand resting over his heart. 
“Do you swear to uphold the code of the kingsguard?” she asked, trying her best to remember the vows Lord Fig had tasked her with memorizing.
“I do,” Sebastian echoed.
“Do you swear to guard the king with all your might, and give your blood for him and his heirs?” She recited the words slowly and thoughtfully.  The sword was beginning to feel heavy in her hands, but Sebastian didn’t budge.  He stayed, knelt below her on the ground, closed fist bound to his chest.
“I do.”
“Do you swear to take no wife, father no children, hold no lands? Do you swear to guard your king’s secrets, obey his commands, defend his name and honor?”
The princess blinked down at her chosen knight, hovering the blade over his shoulder. His big, brown eyes stared back at her, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.  She hadn’t noticed the freckles on his lips; then again, she’d never been so close to him before.  He looked both like a knight and a boy all at once–his armor was unfinished, missing the pauldron on his left shoulder that would bear her sigil.  Sebastian’s messy hair stuck up in the back, and the princess felt the strong urge to pat it down.
She instead remained steady, blade in hand.
“Do you swear, Ser Sebastian?” she asked.
“I swear to take no wife, father no children, nor hold any lands.  I swear to guard my queen’s secrets, obey her commands, defend her name and honor. For as long as I breathe, my life is my queen’s.” Sebastian gave her a coy look, eyes glittering with mischief; he aimed to flatter her, charming the princess with his change in verbiage.
Two could play that game, she thought. The princess lifted her sword, tapping it on both of his shoulders.  “By the grace of the future queen, I name you Ser Kiss Arse.” she declared dramatically.
Sebastian choked, and the princess laughed.  Her whole body shook with her giggles, and Sebastian pouted. 
“No fair,” he complained. “Pick a better name.”
“Fine,” she wiped a tear from her eye. Feigning composure, she straightened her posture and gave him her best queenly glare. “By the grace of the future queen, I name you Ser Freckles.”
“You’re making a mockery of it,” Sebastian whined.
“We’re practicing, remember?” She snorted. “I promise, I’ll be much more official during the actual ceremony.”
Sebastian huffed. “Fine then.  But if I get a nickname, then you get one too.” he warned. “Princess Picky is what I’ll call you.”
The princess scoffed, backing away. “Who called me picky?”
Sebastian gave her a sheepish look, rubbing the back of his neck. “Everyone at court, actually. They thought you were too picky with your requirements of the kingsguard.  The public is fairly certain you’re making a mistake in picking me as your sworn sword.” his smile faltered, a wave of doubt crashing over his face. “My family has no riches, no influence at court.  I have nothing else to offer you.”
The princess chewed her lower lip, dragging the sword behind her as she leaned down to face her knight. “It is no mistake,” she murmured, pressing a hand to his shoulder. “You are the most deserving of the title.  I chose you. And if that makes me picky, so be it.”
Sebastian touched her wrist; the gesture shocked her, eyelashes fluttering from the surprise embrace.  But she did not move her hand–the princess kept it on his uncovered shoulder, her hair falling in her face as she looked down at her sworn protector.
“Princess Picky and Ser Freckles,” Sebastian joked. “An eclectic pair.”
She gave him an earnest smile. “I’d have it no other way.”
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kneworder · 3 months ago
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ok call me crazy but like as much as the belinda pornchai breakup is paralleling the belinda tanya fuckover you have got to acknowledge that these are VERY different situations. tanya told belinda she believed in her and wanted to fund a business then flaked time and time again, getting her hopes up every time just to leave her in the dust over nothing. belinda and pornchai genuinely really liked each other and respected each others' work but their relationship was built on a romantic connection that could have maybe had a business element -- belinda choosing to get the fuck outta dodge after the greg deal despite the one night stand and some wishful thinking about starting a spa together is NOT the same as tanya telling belinda she wants to fund her dream and then saying she actually won't for personal reasons.
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supreme-leader-stoat · 1 year ago
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Kidnapper, smugly: "As I'm sure you're aware Mr. Holmes, you need a warrant to search someone's house."
Sherlock: "You know Watson, this gentleman is correct. We really have no legal grounds to be here." pulls out a gun. "Oh, well, I suppose that makes this a robbery!" :)
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chubbidust · 2 years ago
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palette
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koolestevr · 2 months ago
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Giovanni Potage for a 30 day fanart challenge thing!!!! Day 2 - Favorite character!!! :D I've been trying to do more detailed backgrounds, so this is a first step for me!!!
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