>:| not small.
deactivated-blog
I look the same
but I’m not fine.
The master of my own disguise
If you knew the truth, you’d probably hate me.
ailill really be out here bullying saber like who let him
"Do not call me any alternative of the word small!"
He doesn’t open his mouth in return, but in his mind he imagined himself saying a single word to the King of Knights-- minuscule.
sorry if i haven’t been active lately! i’ve been rping on forums more. like the only reason why i’m still here is cause i love y’all too much to permanently leave this hell
oh look, it's cent. blocked. shsdf
connachtking-blog reblogged
♚▐░▒ ❝ —Now now, you don’t ever comment on a lady’s appearance in such a crude manner Rider, ❞
“Oh, would you rather I lie to her face and call her tall, then?”
connachtking-blog reblogged
[ 𝐁𝐄 𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐆𝐀𝐍𝐓. ]
written by kae private. indie. selective. oc friendly
"CEASE CALLING ME SMALL!" :T
“WUHAHAHAHA! TINYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY!”
"I am not small!"
“WUHAHAHAHAHAHA! SMAAAAAAL!!”
Reblog if your muse has lost one or both of their parents.
connachtking-blog reblogged
Hello, hello! It’s Morgan here with a favor to ask. Could you like/reblog this post if you’re down for interacting with some OCs of an original story? I look forward to writing with you all! Most of these are familiar faces, but there’s two new ones here as well!
connachtking-blog reblogged
Anonymous asked:
How do u deal with your problems?
I don’t
connachtking-blog reblogged
aeqcitas:
Did her servant just refer to her as ‘little doll?’
There’s a moment of anticipation that she can practically feel crawling up her spine, as the silhouette of the servant across the room turns toward her, setting an old book onto the table and commenting with more than just a simple response. As she listens to the words being spoken, her attention quickly hones in on his final words, and she can feel her heart sinking into the pit of her stomach.
So… she really did fail to summon Cu Chulainn after all, didn’t she?
Had she passed out as a result of fatigue, or was it something more? Something… depressive? Red hues flick over to the servant as she tries to wipe the surprise from her expression, shifting more into slight irritation at his comment. She had one opportunity to summon the hero that she wanted to save, and yet she had failed. Even as she looked at the servant who smiled in her direction, and practically mocked her failure, she had done well to mask just how upset she really was inside. Bazett couldn’t afford to sulk, even if her childhood dream was practically shattered to pieces by now.
“So I didn’t summon the hound of Ulster.” Bazett speaks, standing onto her feet as gloved hands tightened into fists and lips pursed into a line. “The catalyst I used would have pulled someone else from the same timeline, so who did I summon as a servant?”
She stares at him with slightly narrowed eyes, moreso out of a serious demeanor rather than her prior irritation. Despite his seemingly gleeful expression, she wasn’t going to be mad at him or punish him for not being the servant she wanted. Even if she hadn’t summoned Cu Chulainn, maybe this servant was someone close to him. At least this way she could still find something to build off of by knowing the history of that time.
It was only natural for the Master to demand their summoned Servant's True Name. The man's smile immediately faded, replaced with a look of discomfort. It was one thing to not be Cu Chulainn, the hero she was yearning to call forth, and another to be a complete nobody. The next best result would have been to summon a warrior of some renown to make up for the salt upon her wounds. However, how was he to make the matter any less damaging? In this situation he cannot tell who's less fortunate between him and her. The Master who have summoned a warrior whose identity cannot even spark intimidation to rats, or the Servant who could do nothing to change the circumstances for her?
"Who knows," he rubbed his gloved hands together, attempting to divert the attention away from the fact that he was a lesser character of the tale. "Conall Cernach? Ferdiad? Laeg mac Riangabar? Lugaid mac Con Roi? Cuscraid? Conchobar mac Nessa? Naoise?" Or perhaps Fergus mac Roich, he was about to say, but even the slight mention of that name invoked a heightened level of wrath in his bones. He clicked his teeth together and sharply sighed. "I could be just about anyone. A pleasing token in exchange for the failed summoning, I would say, if I happened to be one of them." But he was not. "Sadly, I have to disappoint you for a second time. My reputation is... underwhelming."
There's little point in hiding the truth from her, so he decided to simply be open about it, as it was her right as his contractor. "I am Ailill mac Mata. King of Connacht." Husband of Queen Medb, he was close to saying. Still, he did not. He never did like being acknowledged as her mere spouse, though high was the honor in being hers. They've always been equal in all aspects, but the men of Erin were oblivious to such. "Rider. What else do you desire to know, little doll?"
connachtking-blog reblogged
“IT’S NOT THE WAVES, just so you know - have you NEVER been to a water park before?” If he wanted it to be just the two of them, hadn’t he ever thought that it’d be awkward to go to a water park instead of a beach? “It’s two of us. Two of us, against numerous slides and attractions. If we bring more people, it’d be fine, but two of us?”
"It is a public water park, to my understanding. Fret not, I can easily blend among the crowd." Though evidently he's a foreigner of these lands. He'd attract attention either way. "I have not, unfortunately. They were not a thing of the past. Which is why I am highly intrigued. It will be an incredible way to relax for a moment or so."
