The temple bell tolled, the sound ringing out over the sparse city streets- figures in the early morning fog of the ton shambled to worship, to work, to the fields. Hooded doctors rang their own bells, the sound sharper than that of the temple bell, the sound of sickness, mingling with the rickety sounds of their wagons as they carted away the diseased, the mad, the corpses of those who fell to the plague. Yet, looking down over the crested rooftops, from the viewpoints of gargoyles and bird roosts, the city seemed to sparkle in the early morning light.
Your loyal knight, despite the warmth of the sun, still seemed to be cloaked in shadow, as if light itself was absorbed into his darkness. His fingers tapped against the hilt of his sword, impatient. Wesley rarely slept, his eyes focused clearly on the tapestry before him. The warm red of the piece highlighted the couple, depicted in a handfasting ceremony. Maybe it was a relative of yours, or a legend, the context didn't matter to Wesley, stories were a lost venture on his part, he was too literal for them… But he couldn't help but fantasize what it would be like to be unified, for you both to be bound together. How your hand would fit inside his, fingers slotted together, how it would feel for not only having your names be intertwined together, but your souls and bodies- joined together forever more, written in the stars, recorded in the tomes of the temple to be viewed as one for generations to come. The more Wesley thought of the act he began to sweat, his cheeks warming beneath his helm. He coughed, breath stuttering as he stood straighter, the grip on the hilt of his sword growing tighter.
As two handmaidens walked past the door he silently watched them before returning to the tapestry, the girls giggled, whispering behind their hands, cheeks pink with mischief. Wesley rolled his eyes in annoyance- despite his cold facade, he was painfully awkward. Yet, those feelings seemed to disappear when around you- the fact you felt eased by his presence enough to speak your mind. Little else could bring him such comfort. He relaxed again, eyes slipping shut as he began to fantasize, the handfasting ceremony, the soft whispers that would be shared between lovers, the curve of your brow, the softness of your lips, how your body would feel under his, the arch of your back, the sharp gasp you'd let out when he'd-
A clatter came from your chambers and Wesley sprang into action. The large doors opened with a clang, his eyes wide and wary as he searched the room, only to find you, asleep in bed- a few books and a candlestick on your nightstand toppled over, your hand outstretched. You must have swept them off in a fitful sleep… Wesley smiled fondly, collecting the books from the floor with such gentleness it was almost comical, the large man scooping the tomes up as if they were precious glass. Tales of fairies and gallant heroes, he huffed with amusement, tracing the gold leaf on the covers with a gloved hand. He set them down on the dresser, turning his attention to you. How you made him melt.
His hands stilled, sword leaning against your bed, he stared down at you. Eyes wide with a childish sense of wonder that seemed so contradictory for a man who had seen such violence. His breath stilled for a moment, trying to mimic the rise and fall of your own chest. Wesley swallowed roughly, his hand flexing, the leather of his glove creaking as he tightened his fists, his nails digging into the hard fabric. He took a step closer, his gaze dragged over your form. He felt his legs buckle and he took a knee, his hands moving to clutch your soft bedsheets. He stared at you for a while, the sun rising shone light through the stained glass of your window. The warmth of it caused you to shift and Wesley drew back, holding his breath. When you did not rouse from your slumber, he carefully pulled the glove from his hand. His palms were callused, the back of his right hand bearing an old scar that must have reached far up beyond the visible area of his hand that his glove revealed. He reached out, fingers trembling. He swallowed again, feeling that odd warmth and tightness growing in his stomach once again. Through his helm, his eyes focused onto the small exposed section of your collarbones, your neck. His gaze turned piercing as he traced the lines of your curves and he couldn't help but let out a choked whine as his fingertips touched your skin, which almost seemed to glow in the early morning light.
He shivered, feeling his cock twitch as he shifted closer. Your skin was softer than he could have imagined. That first feeling of his lips pressed against your hand was not enough, but this feeling would suffice for now. His fingers delicately traced your skin, his lips trembling as he bit back a soft moan as you shifted, the expanse of your neck uncovered from the silk sheets you rested upon. He wanted to draw you up into his arms, pull the helm from his head and sink his teeth into your skin, let his nose rest in the crook of your neck and smell the heady scent of you. His cock twitched again, he felt sticky, he felt disgusting. But it all felt too perfect, like something out of one of your stories. As his fingers traced over the bow of your lips he tensed, his teeth digging into his bottom lip, he shuddered as he moved closer, that tight feeling in his stomach growing. He whimpered, pulling his helm off and letting it clunk against the stone floor. His lips parted as he sat up. It became too much and he yearned to feel how your body slotted against his. He rested his cheek against your shoulder. You whined, his armour digging into you. He carefully shifted so that his face hovered slightly above the crook of your neck. The tense feeling grew, and he could only imagine what it must feel like if you were awake as well. How you would react, the small sounds you would make, how your fingers would curl into his mousy brown hair and tug it gently to press your lips to his-
Wesley groaned, the fantasies were enough, but the smell of you, how soft your skin was against his made him whine. His hips thrusted against the bed as he carded his fingers through your hair, quietly, gently. It hurt, the feeling of his arousal being trapped beneath the layers of rough cloth and heavy chain metal- but he kept humping the curve of your bed letting his mouth fall open to carefully kiss the crook of your neck, his chapped lips trembling as he did so. He let himself be greedy. How he wished to bask in the light of your gaze as he came, but your placid face would suffice for now. He felt himself spill his seed into his clothes as he bit back a groan. He panted softly as he regained his composure. It was enough for now. But he wanted more. He carefully pulled the small dagger from his side and he took hold of a lock of your hair, carefully cutting it away. He folded it into his handkerchief and carefully tucked it away into his pouch. He watched you for a little longer, knowing you'd awaken at the third toll of the bell. He wished you knew how he felt. He wished he could muster up the courage to confess his love, his admiration, how it felt like without being by your side he couldn't breathe.
More Wesley! I've been so dead, but ill try and update more- you can find the first post here
Yandere!Knight x Reader - Gender Neutral Reader, small hint to nsfw(nothing crazy though)
Your kind, devoted knight stood beside you, practically trembling as he yearned to reach out and touch you. His gloved hand stayed firmly grasped around the hilt of his sword as he stood beside you. Exhaling sharply as the soft silk of your clothes brushes against him.
Oh how he prays one day he may feel the sensation of your touch against his bare, scarred skin. His mind reels at the sight of your lips parting as you bring a cup to your mouth. As you pull it away, a bit of wine falls down your chin, leaving a stain against your delicate skin. How he wishes to drag his tongue along the mark, wipe it away with his thumb before pressing his own chapped lips to your much softer ones.
He hungered for your touch, your warmth, he could imagine how it would feel. The thrum of blood beneath your skin, his marred hands nothing but another boundary that kept him further and further from you. He wished that he could intertwine your two souls into one. Yet there was little he could do besides watch. His eyes were wide, always set on you. Always set in a neutral expression. When he made eye contact with you it took all his strength to uphold his stoic facade…
His fingers itched to wipe away the wine- Oh, but you had grabbed a napkin, carefully dabbing away the offensive stain with a laugh, a jokingly self-deprecating comment on how clumsy you were. You had discarded the cloth, dropping it beside you on the table. As you left, his hand shot out, discreetly pocketing the napkin in the small satchel on his belt.
Later that evening, after ensuring you were safe, tucked away in your chambers, sleeping soundly. He pulled off his gloves with a huff, his fingers pulling out the delicate cloth. He quickly brought it to his face, his hands clutching the napkin to his lips. He shuddered, inhaling your scent with a soft whimper, his eyes already misty with needy tears. He squeezed his eyes shut, imagining it was your soft hair he yearned to pet, the crook of your neck he prayed he could find rest in. He pressed his lips to the cloth, his hand moving down to unlace his trousers, which had become uncomfortably tight.
Courtly Love- Yandere!Knight x Reader, Gender-neutral reader, a small bit of violence/brief description of gore
You're the child of a king, the sole heir. Your empire is the strongest in the world, bringing peace and prosperity to its allies. However, an empire must grow, and of course, war is waged for resources, land, gold, or purely out of spite. Your empire has many friends but just as many enemies. And with such snakes in your garden, your father supposed you needed a protector, a guardian.
Enter your knight. Sir Wesley the Master of the Roq, Lord of the Stone, he has many titles… The famed saviour of your kingdom who had slain dragons, and sieged cities through his many successful campaigns. His loyalty to his king knew no end. Of course, he protect you, of course he'd ensure your safety, he swore it upon his life. Yet you couldn't help but find Wesley's gaze unnerving, it was as if he never looked away from you…I mean it was his job to watch over you...But it made you feel strange. Not just when he was with you, but even when you were alone, in your chambers, your garden, the secret places you thought only you knew about. He also never blinked, maybe he was just blinking when you were? He was strange, but the songs, the stories, he was a hero! A good, noble, man, chosen by the gods. Wasn't he?
Wesley knew he wasn't a good man, a good person. Blood coated his hands, his soul had been dipped into the burning fires of the underworld and he craved something dark, it was always on the tip of his tongue, but every time his blade cut into a foe, he knew that this is what he was made for, his true purpose. He had been thrust into knighthood when he was young, a sword in his hands before he could read. He had trained till his palms bled, pain had become a second language to him. He felt little, trained not only to be a warrior, but a pawn for the kingdom. His smile was supposedly dazzling, but every time he looked back at his reflection, he felt ill. It was nothing but a mask. A facade.
When Wesley had been tasked with the “honour” of being your guardian, he couldnt help but feel like he had been cast aside. Gone was the adrenaline, the headrush he would feel in battle… denounced and degraded to a glorified babysitter for the spoiled heir of a kingdom he could truly care less about. Yet once he saw you. By the gods, he could have fallen to his knees when your eyes met. It was almost cliche, love at first sight, yet you captured him. He didn't think he could exist without you. You spoke little, but when you did… it enthralled him like a siren song, how your laugh echoed through the room, your voice like soft bells. Why were you so quiet? Why did you not let your thoughts ring out in these large, empty halls? In strategy meetings and banquets, how could these useless lords talk over you, how dare they cut you down before you had a chance to grow?
Wesley truly wished to take you away from all this, away from the court, from the leash that had been growing tighter and tighter the longer the empire's influence grew…The suitors that came vying for your attention. Yet he knew if he did steal you away, like in the dreams he'd been having so often, the dreams that began to grow darker, stranger...How when he would wake, the sheets damp with sweat and something sticky ... he'd ache, yearning for your touch. If he did steal you away, he knew he'd become a noose, he would never let you go if he had the chance to take you.
A festival was to take place, in honour of the start of Summer. Of course, as tradition, there would be a jousting tournament. Wesley knew he was to play in your honour. You sat there, a placid smile on your face. The warmth of your gaze gave Wesley more comfort than any prayer or drag of opium ever could. He would win, of course. His talent and skill were renowned throughout the lands.
As Wesley mounted his steed, he cast a glance at you, you politely waved, your smile more genuine as you watched the festivities. Wesley felt a surge of sickness. Oh, how could you not know how much he truly needed you? How you were the only thing keeping him from tossing himself off the castle walls. The things he'd do to see you smile, the things he had done. As the two men raced towards each other, lances outstretched, you couldn't help but watch in sick fascination as Wesley's lance penetrated his opponent's helmet, the gurgling scream that left the poor man as it gouged through, and eventually the poor man fell from his horse, sobbing loudly as his calls for help were drowned out by the cheers of the crowd.
You couldn't look away from the man as he lay in the sand, not even noticing as Wesley approached the viewing stand. Your attention snapped back to Wesley as he pulled off his helmet, a smile on his face. You held your trembling hand out to him, your eyes wide, your placid smile still plastered to your face, so tight you could feel your cheeks hurt.
Wesley gazed up at you like you had hung the stars, he carefully took your hand, his glove speckled with blood, but he was ever so gentle as he placed a soft, chaste kiss on the back of your hand.
I've been resource gathering for YEARS so now I am going to share my dragons hoard
Floorplanner. Design and furnish a house for you to use for having a consistent background in your comic or anything! Free, you need an account, easy to use, and you can save multiple houses.
Comparing Heights. Input the heights of characters to see what the different is between them. Great for keeping consistency. Free.
Magma. Draw online with friends in real time. Great for practice or hanging out. Free, paid plan available, account preferred.
Smithsonian Open Access. Loads of free images. Free.
SketchDaily. Lots of pose references, massive library, is set on a timer so you can practice quick figure drawing. Free.
SculptGL. A sculpting tool which I am yet to master, but you should be able to make whatever 3d object you like with it. free.
Pexels. Free stock images. And the search engine is actually pretty good at pulling up what you want.
Figurosity. Great pose references, diverse body types, lots of "how to draw" videos directly on the site, the models are 3d and you can rotate the angle, but you can't make custom poses or edit body proportions. Free, account option, paid plans available.
Line of Action. More drawing references, this one also has a focus on expressions, hands/feet, animals, landscapes. Free.
Animal Photo. You pose a 3d skull model and select an animal species, and they give you a bunch of photo references for that animal at that angle. Super handy. Free.
Height Weight Chart. You ever see an OC listed as having a certain weight but then they look Wildly different than the number suggests? Well here's a site to avoid that! It shows real people at different weights and heights to give you a better idea of what these abstract numbers all look like. Free to use.
germansingergirl
areudirty
theartofmadeline
jacobvanloon
turnnoffyourmind