#shiny under armour | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

softlyspector · 1 year

Note

So the reader and Din are married right, and reader thinks his armour is so boring and plain, so they draw something on that part that goes on his forearm. He protects it at all costs.

Din Djarin x gn!reader

summary: The reader does something special for Din.

~1.6k

a/n: this is apart of the significant-verse! but it can be read on its own, reader and Din are married.

"You're staring, riduur," Din says, not turning away from the control panel he's fiddling with.

He's removed his gloves but otherwise remains fully armored. You tuck your legs beneath you on the co-pilot's chair and hum under your breath, not answering him.

Din has pretty hands. His fingers are long, his palms broad. Scars zigzag across a portion of his golden skin, but otherwise it remains unblemished and soft. The gloves have protected his skin from calluses, and you're still surprised sometimes by the softness the pads of his fingers held when pressed against yours.

You shift your gaze from his hands, fiddling with the delicate circuitry, to his armor.

Din wore his plain, the metal smooth and well kept, unblemished and meticulously taken care of. It's a nice look, and, somehow, more intimidating than that of other Mandalorians.

You'd been surprised to find the majority of his covert with painted beskar.

"I'm staring," you start, enjoying the way Din's head cocks in your direction even if he doesn't turn to face you. You always have his attention, even when you think you don't. "Because you're very nice to look at."

Din grunts but otherwise remains silent. You smile to yourself, tugging his cloak closer around your shoulders where he'd earlier draped it, and wonder if he's blushing beneath the helmet.

"I was just wondering," you continue. "Why you don't paint your armor?"

That gets his full attention.

Din sets down the panel in his hands and swivels in the pilot's seat to stare at you. "Why?"

The question is oddly tight, his voice low.

You shrug. "I'm just curious."

"Does...Do I not please you?"

"What?" You say, giggling. "Of course you please me, Din. Didn't I just call you pretty? You know you do."

He doesn't answer you, a piece of the puzzle missing for you in his words. The question means more than you can understand.

"I really was just wondering. I like how shiny you are," you tease. "And you keep better care of yours."

His shoulders tilt back with your words, and you know you've pleased him somehow. "I just prefer it unadorned," he answers. "It's easier to maintain. It doesn't blemish the metal."

You hum and nod. "That makes sense." He nods and starts to turn away when you continue. "How do the others choose the colors?"

He pauses, half turned away from you. "Usually they are colors associated with their house, their clan."

"Are their colors associated with our clan?"

He turns fully back to the panel he was working on. "No. We are the first of our clan."

That strikes you.

It's easy for you to forget sometimes, that Din wasn't born to the Mandalorians, that he was an orphan without a family history among them. He seems somehow more Mandalorian to you than any other you've ever met.

Din and Grogu, and now you, were the first of Clan Djarin. If history ever looked back at you, they'd see your names as the first.

It's an odd thought, and one that makes you roll your eyes.

Glory and honor, who would have thought you'd have such qualities instilled in you through the will of your Mandalorian.

The thought of your clan being without distinction weighs on you, just a little. It seems unfair, for how hard Din strove to uphold his creed.

Mudhorn aside, it weighs on you.

You glance down at the tattoo on your wrist, the mudhorn, your mark of belonging.

"Din," you nudge your knee into the back of his where he stands at the weapons locker, meticulously reorganizing weapons though you can't see what was out of place in the first place.

He turns to you, lowering his head automatically to press the crown of the helm against your forehead. "Yes," he answers.

"I know you prefer your beskar without any paint," you say, "so you can tell me no and I'll never mention it again. But I was wondering if you'd let me paint it?"

He stiffens, his body freezing as he regards you. "Not all of it," you say quickly. "Just one of the pauldrons."

"Why?"

The ramp of the ship is lowered, a warm breeze rustling the leaves of the trees just outside.

"It bothers me that our clan has no colors," you say. "I bought paint at the last market we stopped at and something to seal the color with, so it won't be hurt in a fight."

He doesn't say anything, still incredibly still. "Riduur?" You ask, the word seeming to snap him out of whatever trace he'd fallen into. "You can say no, Din. You won't hurt my feelings."

"Are you sure you aren't displeased?"

You blink at him and then at the child, whose waddled over to attach himself to your ankle. "Yes. What would I be upset about?"

Instead of answering, he reaches up and detaches the pauldron with the mudhorn emblazoned on it and hands it over to you. "Paint it all, if you'd like."

You reach down for the baby and then carry both back up to the cockpit, not sure what to make of his reaction.

You decide to go ahead with it, settling Grogu in your lap as you open the little tubes of paint. You would show it to him before you sealed it so it could easily be removed if he wanted it to be.

By no means are you an artist. The little splotch of color you carefully tap into the corner of the pauldron above the mudhorn is less a design and more of a reminder of family through color.

You paint a miniature sky into the tiny space you allot yourself, a deep blue for the galaxy Din has traveled through for years, a tracery of green through the cobalt, a faint color like the waves you see in the sky on some worlds, to remind him of what guides him. You trace tiny silver stars into the navy blue.

"There," you say as you show Grogu your work. "Poor art really, but it makes a nice little flag, doesn't it? See the green? That's for you. To remind your dad of you."

The child coos and reaches for it. "Ah, no, we have to show dad. And when he hates it we'll come back up here and wipe it all away and feel so stupid." Your heart gives a little twinge. He clearly hadn't wanted you to paint it, and you aren't sure why you tried anymore.

You trace your thumb over the mudhorn, deep in thought.

"I don't hate it."

You jump and turn to find Din standing silently behind you. He reaches up and removes his helmet before rounding your seat to kneel in front of you. "Do you like it, at the very least?"

"I don't think there's a word for what I feel, riduur," he admits.

His eyes hold a deep emotion that seems to elude you. You don't know how to read the look in his eyes, expressive as always and somehow unknowable to you. "Good or bad?" You ask weakly. "Really, Din, you don't always have to indulge me. You can tell me to wipe it off."

"No," he answers quickly, pulling his pauldron out of your hand, examining it with a strange intensity. "How long until it dries?"

"A few hours, and then I can seal it."

He gives a curt nod. "Good. I have repairs to attend to today." He stands, gently handing the cold metal back to you.

Din cups a hand over Grogu's head when he leans in to kiss you, nudging his forehead against yours again before he disappears back down into the hull, replacing the helmet as he goes.

You can't help but smile, grinning into the top of the child's head.

It's a tiny spot of color really, and you suspect that even if Din thought it was the ugliest thing he'd ever seen, he still would not wipe it away. It was another mark of clan and home and belonging, separate from his place among the tribe, and gifted to him by you.

He wears it proudly after that, and, you think you catch him admiring it when he thinks you aren't looking.

#din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #mandalorian x reader #significant verse

1K notes · View notes

hotmencore · 9 months

Text

“𝐈’𝐥𝐥 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐛𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐤𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐟𝐨𝐢𝐥 𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐫” 𝐋𝐍𝟒

Pairing: Lando Norris x sister!reader (she/her)

Summary: It’s Lando’s little sisters wedding, and time has arrived for him to do his big brother speech.

Warnings: None, just soppy sibling fluff

Word count: 600+

A/N: Reader is 20

Likes and reblogs are much appreciated! Copying and reposts are not! My fics are only posted on tumblr, under this account, @hotmencore

The sound of cutlery tapping on glass chimed through the wedding venue, everyone’s attention turning towards your mother as she announced that the speeches were going to take place. Your mum and dad spoke, both of them easily bringing you to tears. Everyone had a laugh during the best man’s speech, and last but not least your older brother Lando stood up to do his.

A smile adorned your face as Lando stepped towards his mum to take the mic, grinning at you before nervously looking down at his hands. Lando wouldn’t admit how nervous he was, although being his sister you could tell straight away. But it felt weird to him seeing his baby sister all grown up, but he knew you were happy, and that’s all that mattered to him. He discretely took a deep breathe, and looked up to everyone.

“As most of you know, I’m Y/N’s older brother, Lando. And with that, comes all the smiles and the tears, the giggles and the tantrums, the mistakes and the achievements. These memories and moments all coming together to form the beautiful young woman who is sat in front of us today” Lando speaks, sending you a soft smile.

“But for me, the most memorable moments were little Y/N’s big dreams. Growing up, Y/N always dreamt of being a princess, living in a big castle, and one day being swept away by a knight in shining armour. Someone to keep her safe, to love her, and to be there for her whenever she needed them. And of course, her only being young, I was in charge of being her knight in shining armour. So she would be there, sat on her bed in her princess dress, wearing a little plastic tiara, clutching a bear in one of her hands, and waiting for me to come and ‘save’ her. And, after counting to 30, I would swoop around the corner of the door in my tinfoil chestplate, strutt over to her bed, get her to jump onto my back, and take her downstairs into the kitchen, to live happily ever after, by the stove.” Laughter filled the room as you and Lando both looked at eachother with smiles. You remember these days vividly, them now being memories of which you will forever cherish.

“This would happen quite often, but I didn’t mind. Because in reality, I knew and still do know that my sister deserves nothing less than a proper prince to come and sweep her off of her feet, make her feel safe and loved, and live a happily ever after.” Some awes sounded around the room as Lando took a small pause, your eyes filling with tears over his kind words.

“But unfortunately for little Y/N, her princess story is more of a being saved by Shrek kind.” Lando cheekily adds, looking over to your husband as laughter erupts once again, yourself enjoying the brotherly joking between the two.

“Now in all seriousness, seeing you walk down the aisle in your own proper princess dress, ready to be swooped away by the love of your life, made me realise that you won’t always need your little old saviour. But I want you to know, Y/N, that I’ll always be here for you as your knight in tinfoil armour” Lando finishes with a bright smile, his own eyes shiny, tears escaping yours as you stand up to beckon him over, instantly embracing him in a hug as a small applause sounds from the guests.

“Love you” you murmur, your head rested on his shoulder.

“Love you too” he says with a chuckle, kissing your head and leaning back as everyone sat in awe at the sweet sibling moment.

764 notes · View notes

adibballboy · 6 months

Text

Shiny black under armour head to toe!

#under armour #dazzle shorts #jock bulge #compression shirt

166 notes · View notes

theladyofmanyfandomsfanfiction · 1 year

Text

At Odds

Pairing: Mando x Reader, Din Djarin x Reader

Warnings: None

Summary: You and the Mandalorian are mid-argument when you’re requested to help some old friends.

“You’re unbelievable!” You accused and marched forward now that the Razor Crest was in sight. The Mandalorian who had shared in their recent escape debacle paused his steps.

“I’m unbelievable? You blew our cover two-minutes in to that cantina with all your mindless chatter about knowing the Twins.” Mando bit back, gesturing behind him where smoke still billowed in the air.

Spinning around, you pointed at the beskar helmet. “My plans always work - you just get in the way with all the doubt. Is it really that hard to follow my lead and improvise?”

“I should have let that Wookie eat you.”

You huffed at the man. “If I had been eaten then you’d be stuck on this backwater planet completely oblivious to the fact that your shiny armour has attracted the attention of the native plants which are currently snaking up your legs.”

The Mandalorian looked down and, sure enough, there were giant green tendrils gathering at his waist. Suddenly aware of the danger, he ignited the fire blaster in his gauntlet and set the plants alight.

“Dank farrik!” He cursed jumping out of their grip until he stumbled right up to where you stood, smirking. It was a glorious sight to see him catching his breath knowing that you were correct.

Holding your head up with pride, you stepped away from the Mandalorian and continued on your merry way back to the Crest. Upon nearing, your eyes noticed a second ship parked behind. Thankfully, you recognised it to be that of the bounty hunter Boba Fett who stepped into view.

“Y/n, Mando - it’s good to see you both.” Boba Fett greeted. As he approached, his steps faltered when he noticed a fiery scent. “Why does it smell like you slept in a forest of singed trees and bathed in the ashes?”

Mando simply exhaled making it clear to you that he wasn’t going to reply.

“The bounty we were after didn’t come quietly and he set the cantina on fire when he escaped.” You summarised.

Boba Fett stared at the pair almost as if he was trying to diagnose something.

In the silence, Fennec chuckled. “I didn’t think you usually let bounties escape?”

“I don’t.” Mando confirmed.

Boba Fett nodded. “It seems that returning the Little One to his own kind has caused some dissonance between the two of you. Luckily, I have a job that might help.”

You laughed and clapped your hands together. “Perfect - by all means take him off my hands.”

Mando turned. “I work better alone anyway.” He defended.

Boba glanced at Fennec feeling just a little bit awkward having to witness their tension. Fennec shrugged and Boba cleared his throat.

“Actually, the job requires the unique skills of you both. Do you think you’ll be able to handle that?”

You smirked at the Mandalorian. “Think you can handle it?”

Mando still had you pinned under his gaze when he replied. “Shouldn’t be a problem.” He broke the eye contact and you both focused on the friendly faces. “What do you need?”

Boba nodded. “We’ll send you the coordinates from our ship.” He informed and bid a brief farewell.

As he walked away with Fennec at his side, he let out a breath of air. “By some miracle, this job may patch their rift. I liked it better when they were mooning over one another.” Boba said, briefly glancing over his shoulder to where he had left the arguing pair.

Fennec shrugged. “If not, I’ll lock them in a room myself.”

Masterlist here

#theladyofmanyfandoms #theladyofmanyfandomsfanfiction #gif is not mine #mando x reader #mando imagine #mandalorian x reader #mandalorian imagine #the mandalorian imagine #the mandalorian x reader #din djarin imagine #din djarin x reader #book of boba fett imagine #boba fett imagine

576 notes · View notes

fey-fuxer · 3 months

Text

Instagram - Gamaliel Sarabia

#Gamaliel Sarabia #shiny shorts #dazzle shorts #basketball shorts #sports gear #compression gear #under armour #shiny under armour #jock #alpha #adidas gear #nike gear

73 notes · View notes

candyfloss5000 · 6 months

Text

A Night In - Jack Harkness hcs

summary: what usual nights in with your boyfriend, Jack, is like.

Jack Harkness x genderneutral reader

---------‐----------------------------------------

Since Jack doesn't have a place of his own, expect for the Hub itself, crashing at your apartment has become normal. Not that you mind, the company of your boyfriend is better than the quietness of your flat.

Every other night, you wake up to the sound of the sound of someone breaking into your apartment. But as soon as you hear the shout of "Honey, I'm home!" from Jack you lower the gun you hide under your pillow. And then all the other nights, you're both tumbling into your flat, laughing at something stupid one of you did on the mission you were just set on.

If you're lucky Jack will bring back a bottle of wine to share, he'll say something like "ah, 1923, great year, well not for me..." then go down a rambling tangent about his past in early history.

You have no idea how Jack manages to forget that mortal humans get absolutely shit faced off alcohol every time you both share a bottle of something. He'll only remember when he's laughing at one of his jokes and notices that you haven't joined in on the giggling, then he looks to his side and find you slumped agaisnt his shoulder, glass nearly slipping out of your grasp, face nuzzled into his military coat. He'll either pick you up bridal style and carry you to be, or lay you both down onto the sofa to cuddle. It's nice while it lasts, because as soon as you wake up, you have a pounding headache and it takes you ten minutes to figure out where you are. Meanwhile, your knight in shiny armour has no signs of a hangover thanks to his immortality voodoo. But hey atleast he gives you the morning off.

#Torchwood #Torchwood x reader #Captain jack harkness #Jack harkness #Captain jack Harkness x reader #Jack Harkness x reader #Doctor who #Doctor who x reader #Owen Harper #Gwen cooper #Ianto jones #Toshiko sato #Owen Harper x reader #Toshiko Sato x reader #Gwen cooper x reader #Ianto jones x reader

120 notes · View notes

marcthesparx · 6 months

Text

I'll never learn my lesson, clean shaven is not for me any more 🤣 Home Workout outfit from the other day.

#gay #men in lycra #omg sportswear #shiny gay #spandex #spandex gay #under armour iso chill #under armour #iso chill

38 notes · View notes

karuuhnia · 2 months

Text

I've been a Pokémon fan since the very beginning and recently a friend asked me who my favourite character was. I couldn't answer with just one character. So instead I gave her my top 3 favourites from each generation - and then turned it into this. lol

A little bit more info under the cut if you're interested.

_______

Please do not alter, repost/reupload or redistribute my artwork anywhere! (Reblogging is perfectly fine, of course.)

Gen 1:

Blue: The original rival, you loved to hate him. :D

Erika: I loved her design as a kid, even though I had no idea what a kimono was back then lol

Bill: No idea tbh lol. I like his hair and that he's a nerd, I guess? Honestly, Gen 1 did not have that many memorable and fleshed out characters, so I kinda struggled here.

Gen 2:

Lance: Honestly, he was my fave in Gen 1 already. I love his strength, his design, his virtuousness, his bravery, his code of honour, his everything. To me he's like a knight in shiny armour from old fairytales. lol I could spend a whole day describing all the things I love about him, but I don't wanna bore you.

Eusine: Probably a weird pick for many because he is kinda obnoxious in the game lol I've always had a soft spot for him though and I really wanted him to get Suicune in the end, after he'd changed.

Morty: I love his design and colours and that he's Eusine's bff and voice of reason.

Gen 3:

Steven: He is classy, wears a really awesome suit, has very cool Pokémon and is still a huge nerd. I love it!

Archie: (I see you, @chipsncookies) Big hunk with a big smile and a cool outfit. Beard. Not a bad guy, actually. Learns that he was wrong and does everything to make things right again. Frienemies with Maxie.

Maxie: Scrawny beanpole with a silly (but very cozy looking) outfit. Secretly a dork. Not a bad guy either. Learns from his mistakes and wants to make them right again. Frienemies with Archie.

Gen 4:

Riley: I was a huge fan of Sir Aaron in the movie and Riley is just as awesome. I love his hat too. His personality is also similar to Lance's, so that's a huge plus.

Cynthia: I really, really like her. She is so cool and strong and her theme is amazing. Just like Charizard she's become too popular and that gets a bit tiresome sometimes.

Looker: Okay, I admit, it took me a while to get used to Looker. But now I like his quirky, funny Inspector Gadget shenanigans. What changed my mind was the aftergame of XY. ;__;

Gen 5:

Ingo & Emmet: I couldn't do it. I couldn't choose who of them I like more. So they share the first place.They're a duo anyway. And absolutely inseparable. R-Right?

Elesa: I like her mainly because of the fanon that she's bffs with the subway twins. But she's also not the bitchy supermodel that I first thought she was. She's actually kind and supportive.

Alder: Funny grandpa with awful hair, but a big heart and a great theme song.

Gen 6:

Lysandre: His design always gave me Ganondorf-vibes. That's pretty much it. His goal is stupid.

Emma: Her storyline in the post-game was by far the best thing in XY. And her theme is so beautiful!

Sycamore: I still wish he had actually turned out to be evil. I still like him.

Gen 7:

Kukui: What is not to love about him? He's a hunk, he loves his wife, he takes in Lillie, he punches Pokémon with his bare hands.

Lillie: Sweet little girl who deserves all the love from her friends and her adoptive parents instead of all the shit her psycho bio mother put her through.

Burnet: She's sweet and smart and kind and I wish she had a much bigger role in the game. Her anime part was great though <3

Gen 8:

Piers, Sonia and Raihan: Honestly... These are pretty much the only characters that I remember lol Gen 8 was very underwhelming for me.

Gen 9:

Arven: Just a poor neglected boy who wants to save his sick dog. In contrast to his shitty parents he's got a big heart, is caring, nurturing and supportive.

Clavell: The twist about this character was that there was no twist. He is just a very kind grandpa who genuinely cares for the well-being of his students. I also LOVE his battle theme.

Hassel: This game really is full of wholesome boomers. Hassel's got a huge heart for art and his students and Pokémon. He's also not afraid of showing his emotions.

78 notes · View notes

hannibals-favourite-meal · 1 year

Text

Happy Times

Mando x plus size reader

I’m only going to say this, Pedro Pascal’s happy trail

Warnings: HORNY THOTS, implied smut, happy trail 🫠, little bit of a size kink I’m really not sorry, degradation

WC: 708

Minors DNI

You were fully hypnotised by the sight in front of you. Mando was partially out of his armour, his chest and thigh plates had been stripped away and were placed on his bunk. It was far too hot on this godforsaken planet for any additional layers and he felt safe enough to remove them.

He was reaching up to a panel above his head, cursing as he could quite reach whatever he was looking for. But you didn’t bother to get up and help, nope, you were perched on a small step stool, Grogu passed out next to you and Mando’s tools on your other side.

Your jaw was fully hanging open, your eyes wide, and there might have been a tiny bit of drool by the corner of your mouth. Why were you like this you may wonder? Well that’s because Mando’s shirt was ever so slightly too short on him so every time he reached up above his head, his shirt would ride up and expose a small sliver of skin just above the hem of his pants.

But even more than that, his pants were slightly too big for him so the top sagged, letting you see the glorious thatch of dark hair at the base of his pelvis. And if your eyes dropped just a little lower, you swore you could see-

“Hand me the wrench please.” His helmet was tilted down towards you and you froze. Your entire body came to light with embarrassment at having been caught ogling the bounty hunter.

“Um yeah here.” You handed him the tool and shamefully dropped your eyes to the floor, wanting to simply melt into the metal to escape his knowing gaze.

It certainly wasn’t the first time you had been staring at the Mandalorian, in fact, you stared at him every chance you could get. Sure, he was huge, big enough to scare people away by just standing in a slightly menacing way, but he was also protective and kind. Plus his voice was sexy as hell. But, this was the first time you had been caught and it made you feel ashamed.

You gasped as a warm finger curled under your soft chin, forcing you to look up. When had he taken off his gloves? “You handed me a screwdriver. You seem distracted, mesh’la, what’s going through that pretty head of yours?” A shiver of desire rolled down your spine as he towered over you, his massive body blocking the light from the setting sun.

Suddenly, there were no thoughts left in your brain besides him. You could almost feel his smirk from behind the shiny metal of his helm. “I wonder what has you so preoccupied? What could possibly be making you so dumb that you gave me a screwdriver and not a wrench, like I asked for?” His tone was so condescending, it made you feel even smaller but there was no true malice in it.

His hand slipped from your chin when you didn’t answer him, instead he cupped your jaw with his massive paw, squeezing just tightly enough to make you gasp. “When I ask you a question, you answer me.”

“Y-yes Mando.” You stammered out, your thighs squeezing together at the pure dominance and power he radiated. He rewarded you with a gentle stroke of his thumb along your jawline.

“That’s a good girl.” He purred as he bent down so his face was level with yours, only a few inches of perfectly buffed metal between you. “Now are you going to tell me what was so distracting or am I going to have to pry it out of you?”

Hundreds of images flashed behind your eyes, each one more smutty than the last as you imagined what exactly he could do to you to get you to talk. Wetness pooled between your shapely legs, soaking through the flimsy panties you wore. “I think you want it the hard way but I need to hear you say it. Beg for it.”

You swallowed thickly, the words getting caught in your throat. Another squeeze freed them. “Please Mando, I want you so badly.” A modulated frown came through the speakers of his helmet before he spoke again.

“Good girl.”

Star Wars Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Join my taglist!

All works

@im-a-slut-for-fluff @alexxavicry @ravenwings73 @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @silverfire475 @psychadelichues @mvyalx @faefanatic @km-ffluv

Din Djarin

@nini-trash-forever @theweepingvulcan91 @mandyzsick101 @getoutofthere @valen-yamyam16 @m0nster-fvcker @l9ckheed @justanotherpasserby-blog @capsheadquaters

#mandalorian x reader #mando x reader #mandalorian x y/n #mando x plus size reader #mando x y/n #mando x you #mando x female reader #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin x y/n #din x plus size reader #din x female reader #din x reader #the mandolarian #female reader #plus size reader #star wars #fluff #implied smut

472 notes · View notes

leithillustration · 5 months

Text

The Vampire Knight and The Chivalrous Dragon

Rating: M

Words: 3,493

Chapters: 1 of maybe 3

Sneaking in just before the deadline for @carryon-reverse-bang 2023, I’m so so thrilled to present my artwork and the accompanying first chapter of The Vampire Knight and the Chivalrous Dragon written by the talented @scribble-tier.

My idea was based around the English legend of St George and the dragon- an excuse to live out my dreams of putting Baz into shiny armour to match his glossy hair. Jude ran with it and is giving us a slow burn fic filled with class division, familial obligation and sword fights!

The artwork is only half of the original image I’d intended to create, so the final full piece will be released later on, accompanying whichever chapter feels most appropriate. I can’t wait for you to see the full thing and I’m so excited to read the rest of this story. Thank you @scribble-tier for picking my prompt, it’s been great working with you (: Hope you all enjoy!

Summary:

Basilton Grimm-Pitch is set to be a knight of legend and renown, with a powerful bloodline and training like very few knights before him. But when he's tasked to slay the beast setting fire to the kingdom, he grapples with how to decline without tarnishing his image or going up in flames himself.

And then Simon Snow is one of the missing.

(Tags under the cut)

Big thanks to the lovely supportive folks in the CORB discord, sorry if I’ve missed tagging you, I am terrible at this stuff and have no idea what I’m doing 98% of the time 😅

@artsyunderstudy @cutestkilla @knitbelove-draws @rimeswithpurple @larkral @melodysmash @youarenevertooold @alexalexinii @katatsumuli @aroace-genderfluid-sheep @you-remind-me-of-the-babe @iamamythologicalcreature @squidamalink

#carry on reverse bang #corb 2023 #snowbaz #baz pitch #carry on #simon snow #knight baz #vampire knight #chivalrous dragon #st george and the dragon #carry on fanart #Simon has APPLE CHEEKS #Baz was a sickly child 😭#Ebb is a badass

93 notes · View notes

polyphonial · 11 months

Text

Nya, master of water 🌊 / redesign by @legogeek33

[ID: A digital painting of @/legogeek33's redesign of Nya Jiang from Lego Ninjago. Nya is a stocky asian woman with brown skin, black hair and dark brown eyes. She wears a turquoise, blue and black gi under some pieces of samurai armour: a black chest plate, shoulder pads and thigh guards. She is also wearing fingerless gloves, geta sandals with two 'teeth' and metal knee pads. She strikes an action pose, her legs crouched and spread apart, her torso turned left with one arm bent in front of her and the other gripping a big silver trident behind her. Also behind her is a big wave of water, starting off smooth and shiny near her head and growing more turbulent and twisted along her torso before it resolves into sea-foam near her feet. End ID.]

#scribbles #ninjago #nya jiang #lego ninjago #ninjago fanart #lego ninjago art #ninjago nya #nya fanart #nya ninjago #water art #idfk 😭#anywayy hope u like this :^)

286 notes · View notes

houndofsevenhells · 28 days

Text

“Of Septons and Hounds” (Sandor Clegane x Original Female Character)

SUMMARY — A recently widowed impoverished spinster, who now finds herself at the Lannisters’ mercy, develops a strange relationship with the fearsome Hound. As the ten year long summer comes to an end, she tries to fight for the man she really wants, while dodging her good-brother's schemes to see her wed yet another elderly lord.

AUTHOR’S NOTE — This is my first ever work in this fandom, I hope I did my favourite fearsome Hound justice. English is not my first language so if you spot any mistakes that is my fault alone. Oh, and there’s also smut.

WORD COUNT — 3,391

Masterlist

The ten year long summer was coming to an end. I could feel it in my bones. Casterly Rock still stood tall and strong, as I suspected it would for another eight thousand years, but everything else around me was changing.

I was savouring a rare moment of peace and hid from the world in the alcove of the rose gardens. The round-petalled, sunset-coloured variety that grew here were my favourite, though of course the crimson ones planted at the very centre were the most magnificent. My good-brother Ser Damion once told me they were the pride and joy of Lady Joanna, and knowing his cousin Tywin I could certainly see why the gardeners worked so hard to keep these blooming all summer long.

As the recently widowed impoverished spinster, who now found herself at the Lannisters’ mercy, I hid in these gardens quite often–mostly to escape my good-brother’s schemes. One should hope his duties as the castellan of the Rock would have kept him busier…

I breathed deeply and felt my head swimming from the sweet scent of the roses. Somehow I knew the crimson ones smelled stronger as of late. I was sure they spoke of impending autumn winds. They had developed a startling, imposing scent that permeated almost the entirety of the gardens and it almost seemed like the flowers wanted to shine just one last time before they would inevitably wilt. Like the one last feast one would throw just before the first snowstorms.

“Well, then.” Suddenly, strong hands grasped my shoulders and I shot up from the bench I was resting on.

I was met with the half-burned face of Sandor Clegane; his ruined lips twisted in a mockery of a smile and his imposing frame blocking the sun from my view completely.

“Oh. It’s you.” I was clearly relieved.

No less confused than before, Sandor took a step closer.

“Who did you think it was?” he asked. His voice was broken glass, crunching under infantry iron boots.

“My brother,” I confessed easily. “He is getting fatter on his castellan purse, but is almost as tall as you, Ser Clegane.”

Immediately, Sandor snarled at the title, his grey eyes full of hate. But I stood there proudly, daring him to scold a high-born lady in public. I was riling him up and he knew it, but he let me all the same.

“Come.” His command was short; an order a captain of the guard would throw at a fellow soldier.

“Is that any way to talk to a lady, Clegane?”

He said nothing to that, just sent me another angry look over his shoulder and then kept walking. I stifled a laugh.

Unlike all those other guards prancing around the Rock in their gold shiny armours, Sandor’s black ring mail and boiled leather seemed to be quelling the sunshine around him.

Unable to help myself, I followed him inside the castle.

His long legs carried him quite a distance further and soon enough I found myself trotting behind him like an ungraceful pony.

“Is that any way for a lady to walk?” he grumbled, though there was mirth in those angry eyes and I grinned as soon as I saw it.

“Is that a jape I hear, Clegane? By the gods, it–” But the rest of that remark died in my throat as he pulled me into a dark corridor that ended with a spiral staircase. He went down and again, I followed.

“Where are we?” I inquired.

“Underneath the barracks.” His rasping voice drifted up to me. Once more, he was leading.

“Lovely,” I sighed and then simply kept following.

At the end of the staircase, there was an old door with an even older-looking lock, to which Sandor for some inexplicable reason produced a rust-covered key. He unlocked the door and it soon became apparent he must have been the first one to do it in quite a while. It took a formidable power to open it at all. I looked at how his muscles bulged under the dark sleeves of his tunic and against my better judgement I did not stop looking until he caught me in the act.

Without any niceties, Sandor took my hand and led me through the narrow passage, then firmly shut the door behind us; the rusty hinges straining under the task.

“I do appreciate the effort, Clegane, but if I should have to perish, I’d rather not do it under some aimless old stone that decides to drop on my head with–”

“You talk too much, woman.”

He grabbed me and soon my back was pressed against the cold stone wall. I did not necessarily mind. This was what I came there for; it was what I wanted and what Sandor kept giving me for the past year and a half.

I reached out blindly and when my hands found his face I pulled him closer for a kiss. He wouldn’t reciprocate at first, this much I knew, because such was our game. He would let me sense his humours and somehow through a simple touch and kiss I would read him like a book. I realised he would need it rough today and my body shivered with anticipation. I deepened the kiss and finally Sandor moved closer and started to unlace his breeches.

There was scarcely any light source in the old dungeon and I could barely see a thing. Regretful, giving my particular weakness for the sight of the man. Because Sandor was everything I could ever want from a man, even though he would never let me say it out loud.

But the noose around my neck was tightening. With the summer ending and Her Grace slowly packing to move back to King’s Landing with the children, I knew the proper mourning period after my late husband’s passing was over. As I had no remaining male relatives, Ser Damion Lannister was in charge of any dowry my puny cousin Crakehall branch could offer. Soon, the evil beast that married my sister would force me to wed once more–undoubtedly to another evil beast of his choosing.

“You are shaking, my lady.” The familiar raspy voice brought me back. I sighed because I enjoyed him calling me a lady quite as much as he liked to be called “ser”.

“It’s cold in here.”

“Aye.” He reached under my skirts and I gasped once he pulled down my smallclothes. “So let me make you warmer.”

Another sigh turned into a moan when he put two fingers inside me and curled them. He was not being rough to be cruel, but because he knew I could not stand a slow and tedious prelude.

“So wet,” he rasped into my ear, his breath hot against my skin. “Were you thinking of me all day?”

I could not smell the wine on him this time and I enjoyed the thought that he wanted to experience me sober. I always liked it better when he was not drinking and I thought the incentive for him was that our time together would last longer.

“Actually no, I–” I exhaled and let out a surprised chuckle as he grabbed my thigh firmly to lift up my leg. I rested it against his hip and he added another finger inside me–this time more smoothly.

“Cease your prattling, woman,” he grunted. “Does the dark frighten you so much? Or the creature you find yourself in the dark with?”

I let out another moan as his teeth nibbled at my neck.

The sensations were overwhelming. The stone wall was cold against my back, and the dank dungeon was not something I would call remotely romantic–it smelled of damp earth and rot, and to be truthful after a day of training in the yard, Sandor smelled no better.

As my eyes adjusted to the dark, I could see him sneering at me.

“Where in the seven hells are you?” He leaned in closer and as he replaced his fingers with his cock, I steadied myself by clutching his arms. “Because you sure ain’t here with me.”

“I am… thinking,” I whispered and it gave him a pretence to claim another kiss from my lips.

He knew me too well; such was the consequence of two souls connecting the way we have been doing. At first our dalliance was just a mutual understanding–but now it expanded and grew like a root, and despite our better judgement, we started to get to know one another.

“Stop thinking so much, woman,” he grumbled, his voice surely hoarse from yelling at incompetent recruits through all of the morrow. “Look at me. Look at me.”

I finally looked up and saw the faint outline of his face. His eyes no longer resentful, now they glinted with lust. I smiled as I understood the object of that lust was me.

“Go on then,” I mustered my best commanding tone and moaned as he squeezed my thigh harder in return.

The rough wall behind me, the strong arms I was clutching and Sandor’s hardness inside me all brought me back from whatever hell my mind had wandered to and I set my heart on the now. That is why we worked so well, I supposed. His roughness and my need for it paired together beautifully.

We were both close, I could feel it. Sandor let out a groan and I made myself tighten around him in response. I wished the moment could last longer, but I knew deep down all things that exist in darkness and privacy must one day come out to light.

I reached my peak first and nearly cried out–but Sandor was faster. He captured my lips in another harsh kiss, spilling inside me. I felt how his body tensed, pressed up against me. Still seeing stars, I let him release my leg back down, though I appreciated him still holding me close. I swore under my breath at how unsteady I felt and I heard Sandor chuckle. An oddly comforting thing, that disembodied rough chuckle in the dark.

I pulled up my smallclothes and straightened my skirts, wincing at the mess that spilled from me. I did not care if his seed quickened, though. Thankfully I was no longer a maiden and knew my sums better than I used to. My monthly blood was still far away and I had more time to take precautions.

My release did make everything better, but I still was not finished with my game of teasing the bull.

“When was the last time you took a bath, Sandor?”

I could not really see it, but I knew his brows were tightly pinched together.

“Last week, I think. Why? Does this dog’s stink offend your ladyship?”

“No,” I chuckle. “Have no fear. I know who you are and I still enjoy your company.”

That, I gathered, stunned him more than a blow to the head could. I heard his clothes rustle. He was putting himself back in order, too.

“The smell of blood and sweat,” he grunted. “Some twisted tastes you have, woman.”

I put my hands in front of me and grabbed at his tunic to pull him closer. This time, he obeyed. I pressed myself against him and I could feel his breath quickening.

“Some twisted tastes, indeed,” I hummed and moved to rest my cheek against his chest. “But I wish we could go somewhere else. Somewhere far away from Casterly Rock.”

Somewhere far away from my sister’s husband, is what I truly wished to say and Sandor knew it well. I could feel him stirring uncomfortably, undoubtedly unsure what to say to that. I knew then that I let myself say too much.

“Well, we’ve got that. The two of us here, nice and private, as the lady commands.”

“Very amusing.”

“I do try.”

His hands moved from my backside then and I felt his fingers in my hair. True to the word he had once given, he was doing his best not to make too much of a mess of my braid. But I knew he liked my hair. He remarked on it often.

We were quiet then, just the two of us in that small dungeon under the barracks of Castle Casterly, and it was as close to peaceful as I have ever felt. I knew I was trying to hold on to this moment just a little bit longer, to somehow keep it from ending.

To my surprise, it was Sandor that broke our silence this time:

“I do not want to let you go yet.”

I knew what it meant, for him to speak his mind like that. I was fast to answer so as not to keep him in suspension:

“Nor I you.”

I wanted to say more; to say I wished he were mine and mine alone. But that would be foolish. I knew it could never be. I started to trace soothing circles on his back instead; something I knew he enjoyed very much.

After a moment, he spoke again, though his voice was less hoarse now:

“And if I said… I am yours as you are mine?”

The pang of emotion in my chest was as pleasant as it was scary.

“I would say that is all I want.” I placed my palm against his scarred cheek and felt him lean into the touch. “I want you,” I assure him. “I do not wish to be away from you. I do not wish to be married to a lord or a hedge knight or the first drunk who wins against Damion at cards. I want…”

But then the moment faded away and Sandor brought us back to reality:

“What we want doesn’t matter.”

We have been here before, I realised. This was not the first time when both of us wanted the same, but neither believed we could truly take it.

“You know I am no knight. No lord. I’m just their creature, I’m the Hound.”

“Do not say that.”

“But that’s the truth,” he replied, his voice harsh and grating like knives on stone. “I have killed more men than I could even remember. I’m scarred and ugly and hard to look at. You would not be getting a man, you would be getting a beast.”

I knew what he was doing, what he was trying to do. But this time, somehow, I did not want to cower before my better judgement. Winter was coming and I was growing tired.

“Well, fortunately I am good with wild creatures,” I declared in my best lady-like tone. “If I could make your Stranger eat my apple offerings, I am certain you are no more work than that.”

He went silent and even in the dim lighting of the dungeon I could see the conflict in his face.

“Never had a woman like you, with manners and all. I was never meant for any court. If we give in, you’d be wed to a brute.”

I exhaled and decided then that if after a decade the seasons were changing, I deserved a change as well. I have decided then to break the spell of misfortune with a jape and took a step closer to sniff at his neck.

“Well, as your lady wife I could at least make you bathe more often. If that is not a credit to my taming skills, I do not know what would be.”

He laughed at that and even though his laughter would always be short-lived, I still took that as a victory.

“Fuck the court then, eh?” he said and gently held my face in his rough, calloused hands.

“Fuck the court,” I said sternly, and I knew my swearing always took him by surprise, “and fuck their dances, and fuck their hedge knights. May they all dance themselves off the cliffs of Casterly Rock! And may Ser Damion die of a bloody flux. I hope it is painful.”

“Aye,” Sandor chuckled again and kissed the top of my head. “It is. But do not let them hear you cast your spells. I will do much, but I will not save you from a burning pyre.”

It would not matter if they burned me to ash tomorrow for true. Today I finally had hope.

“I want to be your wife,” I declared. “I want them all to know who protects me. I know you will protect me. They are all afraid of you and–”

“Look at me,” he ordered and I did so at once. “You say this… And you say this knowing what I am? Knowing why they are all afraid?”

“I do not care,” I replied, now close to tears from thinking he would not agree after all. “My good-brother is in charge of my money and in charge of me. I have nothing of my own, no reputation, no lands or keep. Truth be told, you are marrying down, Sandor.”

He laughed at that and I cherished the sound. I adored making the mask fall.

“You are taking advantage of me, woman, is that it?” he rasped, though now his voice lacked all that anger. He seemed almost happy.

“Yes, Sandor Clegane,” I grinned. “I have cast my spells and ensnared you in my power. All of our combined riches of one dragon and two stags shall get us as far as… The Trident, most likely. After that we shall both be whores, but we shall be very happy, indeed.”

“Careful, woman,” he snarled, though his eyes showed no anger.

“Pardon me, my lord.” I gave him my best curtsy.

That earned me a hard squeeze of my backside, but I had no regrets.

“Do you have no fears, then?” he rasped, his hand playing with my hair again. “None at all?”

“Well, I do not particularly care for spiders…”

“By the gods, woman! About me, I meant.”

“Then, no.” My grin grew wider. “You are many things, but you are not a monster, Sandor. I know I can believe your words if you say you would not hurt me.”

“Never.” He rushed to answer this and his hands immediately tightened around my waist. “But I will hurt anyone around you if I need to keep you safe. I will keep you safe, the rest of them can fucking burn.”

“Then I shall dance on the ashes,” I japed again, though my heart threatened to burst out of my chest from happiness. “Come then. Let us find some drunk Septon, I hear your Lord Tyrion knows a few.”

Sandor chuckled and took me by the hand to lead us out of the dungeon.

“He is your cousin.”

“Only by marriage. Remember, I am a Crakehall. Wild boars and lions are not exactly friendly.”

“And hounds are? You are mad.”

“You better wed me fast, then. Such a grand prospect shall not wait forever. But after that, I never want to see or hear the name ‘Lannister’ ever again. ”

We stopped on our way up the stairs and to my astonishment Sandor kissed me right then and there. He looked me in the eye, solemn as always, no doubt waiting for me to change my mind. But I would not. Not when he had shown me what happiness tasted like.

“What is it?” I asked.

“This may be the most foolish thing I have ever done,” he grumbled. “And that’s saying something.”

I took his hands in mine and shook my head, smiling in a way I hoped was encouraging and not entirely deranged from joy.

“I am the unreasonable one, Sandor. You shall be my reasonable husband that tames my wicked nature, remember?”

“Am I now?” He smirked. “So you do take me for a husband? I ain’t even civilised enough to know the… vows.”

“Neither does the Septon, if we get one drunk enough to agree to wed us.”

“Nothing will change your mind, then?”

“Nothing shall save you now from this predicament. The hounds are out, the boars are slain, the… I do seem to have run out of house sigils for my japes, but you do know my meaning, I hope?”

“Aye,” he said and this time he seemed to have believed me. “That I do, woman. Now, let us get you that Septon so that I can bed you long and proper.”

#Sandor Clegane fic #Sandor Clegane x reader #Sandor Clegane fics #Sandor Clegane fanfic #asoiaf fanfic #Sandor Clegane x ofc #Sandor Clegane x original characters #game of thrones fanfic #game of thrones fic #sandor clegane fanfiction

46 notes · View notes