Obv Caster Extra because cute fox girl who is also a dedicated wife.
but i already decided on the futa
Anonymous
kid icarus!
the little girl who sells matches becomes a war general and also there is a wasabi goddess ??
Love/Break me: Yomi and Saber ~
The little bird grips his wrist a little tighter, with more insistence in her voice as she pleads him to tell more of his past. She’s seen the visions, those couldn’t be stopped, but she wants to hear it from him, has to hear it from him in order to believe her. There’s a sorrow in her green eyes that seem like betrayal that he sees when he meets her own and there’s a burden in his heart that he can’t say. Words don’t justify his actions because it was his fault, his blame. But Yomi sees this and she leans in a little closer, burrowing a little deeper into his chest and looking up again, meeting his own and he realizes the sorrow isn’t for what he did. It’s sorrow because of his lowered lids and saddened expression. “Please,” she says, quietly, pressing into him, “Something, anything. It doesn’t matter.”
And Saber swallows his fear, sees the determination in her eyes and relents, but only a little, “My name is Arthur Pendragon,” he explains, with wounded pride swelling behind the glorious words, “I am the son of Uther Pendragon and I am the king of all the realm. I am the once and future king.”
Yomi thinks it’s such a good thing to hear from his mouth, his own voice reflecting who he is better than foggy dreams and blurry sceness. She wants to hear more, she thinks, but Saber’s own face is dark and low, she does not pursue.
It should have ended there. Master and servant opposite genders living in a dorm that was separated based on sex and that was how it should have been until Saber falls asleep early, releasing her from his arms and collapsing on to the bed, soft breathin being the only hint of his life. But it doesn’t end there, and it rarely does. She turns to leave but his hand settles in hers, lingering on her pale fingers. Yomi gives in and sits on his bed beside him, herself worried for her room mates, as well as his. But it’s only when she sees his face does she realize how much she enjoys his presence. It’s a warmth that lights her heart and her face, and it does her much sadness when she realizes that nothing lasts forever.
He’ll be her knight until then, not because of his promise, but because she feels it’s right for them. She’ll give him her heart, if he has the heart to accept it.
ALTERNATIVELY BECAUSE I DON’T KNOW WHAT I’M WRITING.
She reminds him of Guinevere, all soft cheeks and ladylike grace. When she speaks she speaks with elegance, and he is pained to see her all the same despite the happy facade he keeps on his face. He knows he cannot fall in love with the same woman twice- but he will, it’s propechy, it’s only a matter of time. And Gwen, Gwen is long gone, dead, buried in her grave and he does not want to disgrace her by falling in love with other. Because they were never divorced, he is bound by law to a knight’s honour. He hoped she was happier with Lancelot than she was with him. Arthur was always seemed a tad distant. he was a king who could not age, commanding an air fear and inspiration. More often than not, it was fear that drove the crowds away. They called him the great knight Arthur, but he knew he did not more than the others.
But his focus is on his master now. He watches her silently when she moves through the halls, never chattering too loud, and never too softly for him to hear. In a sense, she would be perfect for the court. They would have found her enchanting, a perfect wife, no doubt, and just Gwen’s age. If they were here now, they would cheer loudly for the king and his lady, but he stays his hand from anywhere but her hands. Even the lightest touch could lead her on and even when they are in their closest moments, in the darkness of nightly chambers, he does not tell her. He hopes this will not spur her on into the affair that led him to his doom.
So they keep their terms light and airy, with him by her side, more a knight than the leader of a realm. That’s not enough for him, though he may pretend it is.
It’s not beyond him to understand an honour that was the code his his father before him. He is king, he is of marriage and bastard. But King Arthur cannot, though he wills against it, settle for second best.
Love me: Saber and Yomi!!
The little bird grips his wrist a little tighter, with more insistence in her voice as she pleads him to tell more of his past. She’s seen the visions, those couldn’t be stopped, but she wants to hear it from him, has to hear it from him in order to believe her. There’s a sorrow in her green eyes that seem like betrayal that he sees when he meets her own and there’s a burden in his heart that he can’t say. Words don’t justify his actions because it was his fault, his blame. But Yomi sees this and she leans in a little closer, burrowing a little deeper into his chest and looking up again, meeting his own and he realizes the sorrow isn’t for what he did. It’s sorrow because of his lowered lids and saddened expression. “Please,” she says, quietly, pressing into him, “Something, anything. It doesn’t matter.”
And Saber swallows his fear, sees the determination in her eyes and relents, but only a little, “My name is Arthur Pendragon,” he explains, with wounded pride swelling behind the glorious words, “I am the son of Uther Pendragon and I am the king of all the realm. I am the once and future king.”
Yomi thinks it’s such a good thing to hear from his mouth, his own voice reflecting who he is better than foggy dreams and blurry sceness. She wants to hear more, she thinks, but Saber’s own face is dark and low, she does not pursue.
It should have ended there. Master and servant opposite genders living in a dorm that was separated based on sex and that was how it should have been until Saber falls asleep early, releasing her from his arms and collapsing on to the bed, soft breathin being the only hint of his life. But it doesn’t end there, and it rarely does. She turns to leave but his hand settles in hers, lingering on her pale fingers. Yomi gives in and sits on his bed beside him, herself worried for her room mates, as well as his. But it’s only when she sees his face does she realize how much she enjoys his presence. It’s a warmth that lights her heart and her face, and it does her much sadness when she realizes that nothing lasts forever.
He’ll be her knight until then, not because of his promise, but because she feels it’s right for them.
ALTERNATIVELY BECAUSE I DON’T KNOW WHAT I’M WRITING.
She reminds him of Guinevere, all soft cheeks and ladylike grace. When she speaks she speaks with elegance, and he is pained to see her all the same despite the happy facade he keeps on his face. He knows he cannot fall in love with the same woman twice- but he will, it’s propechy, it’s only a matter of time. And Gwen, Gwen is long gone, dead, buried in her grave and he does not want to disgrace her by falling in love with other. Because they were never divorced, he is bound by law to a knight’s honour. He hoped she was happier with Lancelot than she was with him. Arthur was always seemed a tad distant. he was a king who could not age, commanding an air fear and inspiration. More often than not, it was fear that drove the crowds away. They called him the great knight Arthur, but he knew he did not more than the others.But his focus is on his master now. He watches her silently when she moves through the halls, never chattering too loud, and never too softly for him to hear. In a sense, she would be perfect for the court. They would have found her enchanting, a perfect wife, no doubt, and just Gwen’s age. If they were here now, they would cheer loudly for the king and his lady, but he stays his hand from anywhere but her hands. Even the lightest touch could lead her on and even when they are in their closest moments, in the darkness of nightly chambers, he does not tell her. He hopes this will not spur her on into the affair that led him to his doom.
So they keep their terms light and airy, with him by her side, more a knight than the leader of a realm. That’s not enough for him, though he may pretend it is.
It’s not beyond him to understand an honour that was the code his his father before him. He is king, he is of marriage and bastard child. But King Arthur cannot, though he wills against it, settle for second best.
