#“you should know your place sir. the king does not want to speak to you.” kabru says with a menacing smile

[gothiethefairy]

thought of an angsty thing for post canon.

a nobleman, accompanied by his personal knight, comes to meet king laios. this could be for political reasons or whatever. kabru however notices laios is acting odd. he's seems more stiff than usual and clearly looks uncomfortable. at first, kabru thinks maybe it's the nobleman making laios act this way. but then he notices laios is not even looking at the nobleman. he's looking at the knight.

the knight was one of laios's bullies back in his army days.

[whorelaud]

꒦꒷ 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 hushed fantasies ¡

pairing brother's best friend¡nicholas chavez x fem¡reader

summary thinking you were messaging your friend, you accidentally sent your brother's best friend a thirsty paragraph about him, with Nicholas opening it before you get a chance to delete it. what you were not expecting was the leading conversation, causing realization to wash over you as he hints your desire is not one-sided after all.

contains suggestive, sexual tension, a bit of dirty talking, a brief kiss, flustered reader, cocky nic, hes also very freaky (uhh???)

a/n this is the silliest thing ive ever written i was giggling the whole time while writing it. likes and reblogs are v much appreciated!!!

word count 1.7k

You: the amount of self control i have is insane because why do i not have this mans dick in my mouth rn please i need nic so fucking bad its not even funny anymore he is everything i want in life id let him use me any day morning afternoon n night im available ugh i dont even get the ick when its him he was acting like a dad earlier yelling at us to grill the meat right and it was so adorable ill call you daddy u want me to call u sir i dont kink shame im down for whatever king omg stop he got hurt earlier and he GROANED???? i almost fell to my knees YAHOOO he definitely whimpers #needthat 10/10 i just know its thick ooh tip pink shade #d97e77 thats insane till my knees are bruised and my throats scratched my panties fell tears are rolling down my thighs OMG PLS can you feel my pain hes so bodangshis how does my brother look at him and not wanna fuck him id be all over him if that was my friend gahhhd!!! hes actually so sweet he kept speaking to me earlier so i dont feel left out of the conversation and i find that adorable do u think he slaps it before he cums oh my his girlfriends so lucky im ab to put her in a headlock ahaha this is gross no man should have this much of an impact on u unless their dick is big and the sex is absolutely amazing yooo what he probably knows how to please a lady id be hard if i had a dick rn STOPP he has a happy trail im gonna lose it hahah lets find out where it leads i dont wanna think ab that im going crazy literally pulling my hair out that should be u baby GIVE ME A CHANCE?!!!! thinking ab him makes me so nervous this is getting a little too srs ahaha okay im sorry hows life?!? i miss u :(

Sending that message, you were anything but expecting the response you got in return, not from the man himself, that���s for sure.

nic: oh?

nic: i think you got the wrong person

You audibly gasp, realization washing over you as you read over the message. That was, in fact, not for Nicholas, nor was it for anyone but your friend to see.

You panic, putting your phone down to process what happened, needing a moment before responding. Right, you needed to do that.

But why did he see it so fast? He didn't even give you time to comprehend your message, the text switching to read in an instant.

Hell, it was midnight, and it’s been a long, tiring day for the both of you, having been out the whole afternoon, merely to come back to the hotel and spend more time with your other friends.

Everyone decided to end the night off early; early being a bit before midnight, with you heading to your room afterwards. Your brother and his best friend shared the room taking place next to yours, making it easy to reach out to him.

And for that, you were grateful since Nicholas was with him; meaning you got to see more of him throughout this trip.

You’ve had a crush on Nicholas for god knows how long, with it starting the moment your brother befriended him. You’ve technically gone through all the phases he experienced, hell, you saw him more than your own parents.

He was sweet, a little too sweet, perhaps it bothered you. Nicholas was very known among women, he knew how to attract a lady, showering her with praises until he eventually got what he wanted.

That made you extremely jealous, knowing you couldn't have him. He was forbidden, off-limits, someone you could only admire from afar.

And that stupid crush of yours led to this conversation, one you didn't want to discuss.

You: i didnt mean to send that to you

The text switched from delivered to read right away, causing your breath to catch in your throat.

nic: clearly

nic: i dont have a gf btw

Why did he feel the need to clarify that, and why were you relieved over hearing it?

You buried your face in your pillow, feeling heat reduce from your body. You’ve never been this embarrassed before, not around Nicholas. While you were weird sometimes, it was never this bad.

He wasn't supposed to know about this, nor discover it the way he did.

You: cover your eyes pls

You: this wasn't for u

nic: you sure?

nic: are there any other nics in your life?

Your stomach twisted at the message, hand coming up to cover your mouth as an audible gasp escaped your throat. How could he say that?

You felt all sorts of emotions wash over you, unable to process each one of them as you read the message over and over again.

You: what if there is

The question was risky, it could either end with him telling your brother, or him teasing you over it and brushing it off. Either way, you couldn't have him, so why not just fuck it and go with the flow?

nic: then that would be disappointing.

Your breath caught in your throat, vision going blurry as Nicholas’ bubble kept appearing and disappearing.

nic: id really hate that you feel this way about someone else

Oh my god, were you dreaming?

You could not believe your eyes. You turned off your phone, letting the dimness of the room seep through for a moment before you unlocked your device once again, heart skipping a beat when you realized it was real.

Nicholas, your brother’s best friend, might have been flirting with you, but that’s just in your head, right…?

You: ??? wdym

nic: you first

nic: was this about me, doll?

The pet name made you weak to your core, spiraling you over the edge as you put your phone down for a second. You took a deep breath, feeling your face heat up at how suggestive the boy sounded.

He sounded so desperate, you weren't sure if it was the tiredness, or him being genuine. Either way, you’re fucked, because you’re willing to do anything for him, even if it means breaking your heart.

You: what if it was

You: what will you do ab it

You felt nauseous as you waited for a response, groaning when the boy disappeared for a minute. Did you say something wrong? Why did he suddenly leave?

nic: then id risk it all

Speechless. Your mouth hung open, chest filling with lust as a breath heaved out of you.

You: are you saying this because you’re tired

nic: no

nic: god no

There was no ounce of self control in your body left. You almost screamed, overwhelmed by a new sense of emotions.

Is this how it felt? Because fucking hell.

You: it is

nic: it is what?

You: this is so embarrassing

You: why are you making me admit it you know exactly what im talking about

nic: baby

nic: jus tell me

You: no you suck im going to sleep

nic: WAIT no come here youre so cute

You blushed at the message, unable to suppress the smile forming on your lips. God, he’s such an idiot. And you were totally swooned for him.

You: i literally just sent you a message talking ab how much i wanna suck your dick what about that is cute

nic: oh? so you do admit it

You: …

You felt nervous, realizing how serious this has gotten. From a silly message turned into you contemplating whether this was a good idea. The last thing you were anticipating while typing that message was a confrontation, one from Nicholas; at that.

nic: you couldve told me yk

You: do you hear yourself

nic: ? what

You: nic you know this is wrong

You: youre gonna wake up tmr and forget all ab it

nic: you knkw

nic: yoirw so fucjinf hot

You came to a halt, noticing the amount of mistakes the boy was making. Your mind wandered somewhere else, feeling heat crawl past your neck, all the way to your face.

You: what are you saying

nic: fucking hell

nic: take the hint baby

You froze in your spot, tongue coming out to wet your lips, suddenly feeling heat travel to in between your legs. Don’t give in, don't give in, don’t give in.

You: what

nic: you couldve asked me if you were curious

nic: i wouldve happily showed you

That sent you over the edge. Your mind went fuzzy, unable to process the last few texts you received from Nicholas. He was being serious, dead serious, you were sure of that.

The texts you exchanged always revolved around your brother; usually Nicholas asking whether he was home or not. However, this one was different.

He was hinting something, something very risky that you were unable to resist.

You: dont say that

nic: what, you don't believe me?

You: nic

nic: give me five

You stared at the message on the screen, confused on what he meant. Your eyebrows furrowed with puzzlement, awaiting a message, merely to get nothing in return.

As you were about to shut your phone and go to sleep, it pinged, the notification startling you awake. You clicked on it immediately, mind going hazy as you read the message over and over again.

nic: open the door

nic: im outside your room

You didn’t hesitate as you got up, swiftly walking your way to the door. You unlocked it with haste, vision going blurry as you caught sight of Nicholas, who was standing inches away from you now.

He looked just as desperate as you were, maybe even more. And that was it, it was all you needed to pull him by the collar and cease the distance between you two.

The moment his lips collided with yours, you realized that maybe it’s worth ending up with a broken heart, because Nicholas tastes fucking addicting, and you found every way to make good use out of that obsession.

The possession of knowing he’s off limits, yet here he was, eagerly kissing you numb.

[hellinistical]

fem! reader x rafayel. royal! au. sea horror! au. heavy angst. minor and major character death. slow burn. romance. fluff. explicit smut. trauma. religious themes. gore; hinted torture, cannibalism, decapitation, self-cannibalism. violence. wc: 4796 | status: on-going

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II: GOLD STRUCK

The wagon wheels were obviously wobbly, the axles needing immediate tightening, not that anyone would care to repair them, though. The rainy season was in full effect, and the roads were the sky’s first victim. A dog chased after a squirrel, it’s barking annoying the merchant nearby. He cursed the dog and his bloodline. 

“To hell with Linkon! To hell with this damned town!” His broom thwacked at the wood sign on his stall. “When I catch you, you damned dog, why, you’ll be roasted with your litter!”

“Oh Mr. Heggins, relax! It’s just a dog!” “Just a dog? Why you- you let him out, didn’t you, Caleb? I should get you fired from the mines for this!”

Caleb laughed, crow's feet forming by his eyes as he smiled big. His hands held orchids. He had picked them from his mother's garden earlier that morning, meticulously picking the best ones without her knowing. In his pocket, a small box rested.

Mr. Heggins eyes note the flowers and the small lump in his pocket. 

“Today's the day, eh?”

Caleb nodded, his cheeks tinging with red. 

“Yes, sir. I plan to ask tonight.”

“Ah, before the king's carriages come? Bad timing, no?”

“No, sir.”

It's quiet for a moment before the old man speaks up. 

“And out of everyone you could have, you chose the L/n's daughter.” He lets out a pitiful chuckle. “I won't question it, but to each their own.” 

As the old man walked off, Caleb hummed, his hand going to his pocket, patting it affectionately as he walked on through the streets.

He grabbed some pumpkin bread, the honey, and roasted almonds on it making it smell heavenly. 

He collected some gifts. A doll, a kite, perfumes, and a watch. 

And then he headed off towards Linkon's hill village. 

*** Hot water splashed onto the weathered wood floorboards, the basin full to the brim. Sprigs of lavender, rosemary, and orange slices floated on the water, and Mrs. L/n poured fresh milk into the tub. 

“Is this really necessary?” Y/n huffed, crossing her arms over her chest. “I’m not getting in there- I won’t even be selected.” “Yes, you are. And I’m tired of you not listening to me.” “Mother- owowowowowowow!” 

The older woman grabbed her ear, pinching it lightly as she pulled her daughter towards the tub. Y/n held onto the wall, protesting. “I’m not going in there you; put milk in there! It’ll feel weird!” “Take the damn bath, child! Eva! Call your sisters and come here!”

“Coming, Mother!”

In moments, Y/n’s sisters came into the room. Eva smiled cheekily. “Today’s the day~!” “Like hell it is.” She shot back, wriggling in her mother’s grip. “You all act like you want me to get picked! Does Gran even know what you’re doing? Ma?” Her mother looked away, her hands going to the clasp on the back of Y/n’s dress. She undid it quickly, and the fabric pooled at her feet, ignoring her question.

“Strip out of your garments- Gods, you reek- is this wool? Y/n! You messed with the sheep again!” “I did not! I was with the ram- hey!” She placed her hand on the back of her head, the sting from her mother’s popping strong.

Lucy laughed, her chubby hands taking the stripped clothes to the wash.

“You’ve all gone mad. I hope you know that.” It comes out as a grumble, but she goes into the tub. But as soon as she stepped in, she complained. “The water’s freezing!” “That’s what you get for talking so long.” Her mother quipped. Her face sours as an orange slice touches her knee.

Raising her leg, Eva takes it, scrubbing it down as her mother starts to work on her hair. She hisses, her scalp tender as it gets scrubbed as well. 

“The weather is lovely, isn’t it?” “Just dandy.”

“What time is it?” “Half after 12, mother.” “Lord! We need to hurry then.” “Did you always have such a strawberry complexion, sister?” Y/n kicks water at her sister. “Quiet, you-”

She’s interrupted by her mother pouring a bucket of water over her head. Her hair gets thrown in her face, and she swallows some soapy, milky water, sputtering and coughing.

“Both of you, quiet. I’ll be damned if our good name is tarnished because you both decide to act like Neanderthals.

Y/n coughed out some more water. “I think calling me a Neanderthal isn’t fair- but Eva on the other hand- Oh my fucki- can you stop getting soap in my eyes?!”

“Language!”

***

Y/n shivers as she steps out of the basin, her arms crossed, knees turned, and locked. 

Some of the rosemary was tangled in her hair, but she paid it no mind.

Wrapping a towel around her body, Eva grabbed a comb, getting to work on untangling the knots and rosemary in her hair.

“This is ridiculous.”

“You would still get picked if you were covered in cow shit, so cease your bitching,” her mother shot back, not missing a beat as she scrubbed her daughter’s hair with renewed vigor.

Y/n's mouth dropped open, and she groaned. “You’re impossible!”

But her mother only raised an eyebrow. “And yet, here you are, complaining like always.”

Lucy waddled into the room, her small arms bundled up with a light blue chemise gown, the fabric soft and worn from years of storage. The short sleeves were cuffed, and though the dress had once been elegant, it was now out of date- the gaudy stitching showing the era it was from. Y/n’s eyes widened in horror as she realized what Lucy was holding.

“You can’t seriously expect me to—” Y/n began, her voice rising in protest.

But before she could finish, her mother yanked the towel off her body with practiced efficiency. “Of course not,” Mrs. L/n replied, her tone calm and unwavering. “Not until you’ve been plucked.”

Eva stepped forward, smirking as she handed her mother a razor, her grin mischievous. Y/n stared at it, her lips parting in disbelief. “Oh, come on...”

Mrs. L/n motioned for the sisters to leave. Eva, Lucy, and the others filed out, whispering and giggling amongst themselves as they shut the door behind them, leaving the room unusually still. The bright daylight streaming through the window seemed too cheerful for what was about to happen.

Y/n sighed heavily and sat on the small stool, arms wrapped around herself in half-hearted defiance. Her mother wordlessly knelt beside her, taking the razor and beginning the task of smoothing over her skin with slow, deliberate strokes.

For a few moments, the only sound in the room was the quiet scrape of the blade against her skin, the soft splash of water, and the occasional sigh from Y/n. It was a silence filled with things left unsaid, the weight of what was coming pressing on both of them.

Y/n looked down at her hands, picking at a loose thread on the towel. "I still don't think this is going to work. They'll want someone else," she murmured, not meeting her mother's eyes.

Her mother didn't respond immediately, her hands steady as she worked. Finally, she spoke, her voice softer than before. "It’s not about what they want, Y/n. It’s about what you’re worth. Remember, the better you do, the better we all do."

“Why do you want me to get picked so badly?” Y/n asked quietly, her voice trembling despite her attempts to sound nonchalant. “You know I’ll mess up.”

Mrs. L/n paused mid-stroke, her hands hovering for a moment before continuing, the razor gently gliding over her daughter's skin. She didn't meet Y/n’s gaze, but her words were firm.

“I don’t want you to go. What gave you that idea?”

Y/n blinked, caught off guard by the blunt response. Her throat tightened, but she said nothing, the silence suddenly heavy between them. 

Her mother’s eyes were fixed on her task, but the strain in her voice betrayed her emotions. “You think I want to see you paraded around like livestock? Gods know I don’t.” She set the razor aside for a moment, finally looking up at Y/n. “But if you’re chosen… at least you’ll be safe.”

Y/n swallowed hard, not knowing what to say. For once, she had no sharp retort.

"...They'll smell the farm on me," Y/n tried to joke, a small smirk tugging at her lips. "And it's not like the town doesn't have a reputation for me."

Mrs. L/n froze, her brow furrowing before she snapped, "Y/n M/n L/n. You will stop talking this instant!" She threw her hands up in exasperation, the razor clattering against the basin. “Ugh, by the Gods, you will jinx yourself, and no amount of rosemary will be able to fix it!”

Y/n bit her lip, stifling a laugh despite the tension in the air. She knew her mother meant well, but the whole situation still felt so surreal—so out of place for someone like her.

There was a knock on the door. Y/n's head snapped toward it, her brows knitting in confusion. Her father’s voice called through the wooden frame, calm and warm as always. 

“The boy is here, my loves.”

Y/n frowned. "Caleb? What’s he doing here?"

Mrs. L/n didn’t answer, her focus entirely on finishing the task at hand. She ignored Y/n’s questioning gaze and continued to move the razor carefully, finishing her legs before working up to her cunt.

"Never mind that," her mother finally said, her tone clipped. "We need to finish."

She turned toward the door, calling out in her usual brisk, commanding voice, “There’s a roast in the oven! Check it for me, please!”

“Aye, I will,” her father replied, the sound of his footsteps retreating down the hall.

Y/n slouched slightly on the stool, still puzzled. “He does know today is the collection, right?” Y/n asked, a hint of uncertainty creeping into her voice.

“Perhaps he’s wishing to bid you good luck. But it will have to wait,” her mother replied, still focused on her work.

“Oh.”

Y/n sighed, the thought lingering in her mind. It made sense enough. They had talked about their plans—what they would do if she didn’t get picked. Caleb would take his father’s horse, and they’d ride out of Linkon together. A smile tugged at her lips as she recalled the silly memory of him telling her the same thing every year. 

But she hadn’t seen him lately; he was always busy with family matters, tending to the farm, or preparing for whatever life awaited him. 

Once Y/n was dressed, she stood stiffly, adjusting the light blue gown that felt foreign against her skin. “I can feel every stitch, Mama.”

“It’s because your skin’s bare. It’s a good feeling. A good thing,” her mother replied, a hint of pride in her voice.

“I’ll get cold easier.”

“Oh please. You weren’t even furry,” her mother teased.

Y/n let out an unexpected laugh, the tension breaking for just a moment. But then the door swung open, and her father stepped in, whistling a cheerful tune.

“There she is. My darlings!” He kissed his wife and then pressed a warm kiss to Y/n’s cheek. He pauses. “You smell like the farm.”

Y/n shot a look at her mother. “Told you so.”

“He's messing with you,” her mother said, rolling her eyes.

Just then, Caleb ducked his head under the doorframe, a bright smile on his face. “Good evening, Mrs. L/n. I’ve brought gifts.”

“Gifts? You shouldn’t have!” her mother exclaimed, a warm smile spreading across her face.

“I wanted to,” Caleb said, his tone sincere.

“Oh, you sweet boy. Come, let’s go talk.” Mrs. L/n took Caleb’s hand, pulling him out of the washroom. 

As their eyes met, Caleb’s purple gaze sparkled with a kind of mischief that made Y/n’s heart race. She felt her cheeks heat up but managed to wave, a shy smile breaking through her earlier worries.

Once they left, Y/n found herself alone with her father in the warm, sunlit room. The air was thick with the lingering scents of lavender and rosemary, remnants of her mother’s frantic preparations. Mr. L/n glanced out the door, ensuring it was securely closed before turning to face her, his expression suddenly serious.

“Are you nervous, child?” he asked, his voice low and steady, a contrast to the bustling energy that had just filled the space.

“Nervous?” Y/n echoed, furrowing her brow in confusion. “About today?”

“Hm... no, can’t say I am.” She crossed her arms, trying to project confidence, but the truth was a tangle of emotions lay beneath her surface.

He studied her for a moment, the lines on his face deepening with concern. “You’re a horrible liar. That’s my fault. Should have taught you better.”

“Papa—”

“Listen. You’re no fool. You’ve got a good head on you,” he said, placing a hand on his chin, his thumb tracing the stubble there as he exhaled slowly, the weight of his thoughts pressing down like a storm cloud.

Y/n felt a knot tighten in her stomach, her heart racing as he continued. “That boy is going to propose. And you need to accept.”

Her eyes widened in shock, disbelief flashing across her face. “Huh?”

“That's how you don’t get picked,” he insisted, his tone firm yet gentle, as if trying to shield her from the harsh realities of their world.

“But—”

“Listen to me, child. You need to accept—today. Before it’s too late. Once you’re engaged, they can’t collect you.” 

“To Caleb?” she asked, her voice trembling with a mix of hope and uncertainty. The idea danced in her mind like a flickering flame, both enticing and frightening. Would it truly save her? 

“Yes!” he affirmed, leaning closer, his eyes locking onto hers with a fervent intensity. “You think we have luck when it comes to this sort of thing? We don’t,” Mr. L/n continued, his voice lowering even further as he leaned closer. “We should have married you to him months ago, but there was never an opportunity. We have the papers. You just need to have some witnesses—”

“You cheated the system?!” Y/n whisper-yelled, her eyes wide with a mix of disbelief and indignation.

“Of course I did!” he replied, a hint of pride breaking through his urgency. “I did it to protect you. You have no idea what they do to the girls they collect. We have to outsmart them.”

“I can’t marry Caleb! Are you crazy? I don’t even want to get married—” Y/n protested, her voice rising in disbelief.

“This isn’t about what you want! You love the boy; he loves you!” Mr. L/n countered, his frustration simmering beneath the surface.

“Yeah, but—” she started, her mind racing as she tried to find the right words.

“Listen to me,” he urged, his voice softening as he stepped closer. “This is about survival. The kingdom doesn’t care about your dreams or desires; they only see you as another name on a list. But if you’re engaged, they can’t touch you.”

Y/n took a deep breath, the reality of her situation weighing heavily on her chest. “What if Caleb doesn’t want this? What if he thinks I’m just using him?”

“Caleb knows—he's been helping orchestrate this!” Mr. L/n interjected, a mix of urgency and relief washing over him.

Y/n’s eyes widened in disbelief. “What do you mean he knows? How could you—?”

“I spoke to him. He understands the situation, Y/n. He’s been looking out for you, and he wants to keep you safe.” Her father’s voice softened, but the intensity of his words remained.

“Caleb is in on this?” she asked, her mind racing. The idea that Caleb had been part of this plan, that he had considered her fate alongside his own, sent her heart racing.

“Yes! He cares for you deeply, and he’s willing to do whatever it takes to protect you,” Mr. L/n explained, a hint of pride- and something else- in his voice.

She closed her eyes for a moment, envisioning Caleb’s kind smile and the playful banter they shared. Could he really be ready for something so serious? The thought of it both terrified and thrilled her. 

***

Caleb sat in the dingy dining room of the L/n household, his hand absently resting in his pocket. The scent of roasted meat wafted through the air, mingling with the musty smell of the worn furniture. Truthfully, the L/n farmland was rich and fruitful, bursting with potential, but the home itself felt shabby and neglected.

“Once we’re married, I can fix this place up…” he mumbled to himself, envisioning the changes he could make. The walls painted fresh, new furniture, perhaps even a small garden where Y/n could grow flowers. His heart swelled at the thought.

In the corner of the room, her sisters and mother were clustered together, giggling and gushing over the gifts he had brought—colorful ribbons, handmade trinkets, and sweets. Their excitement filled the air, but Caleb was lost in his own thoughts, barely noticing their chatter.

It wasn’t until Y/n emerged from the washroom, her father beside her, that he realized she was near. His heart skipped a beat as she stepped into the room, her vibrant orange hair catching the light. She looked radiant, even in the simple gown she wore, and a smile spread across his face as their eyes met.

“Good evenin', Y/n,” he greeted, warmth flooding his voice. “You look lovely.” 

Y/n’s cheeks flushed as she returned his smile, but there was an uncertainty in her gaze that made him wonder what was going through her mind. He wanted to ask about the selection ceremony, about her feelings, but for now, he simply stood there, hoping the moment would allow for the words to come.

“Er, hello, Caleb,” Y/n replied, her voice slightly shaky but warm.

He chuckled, a playful glint in his purple eyes. “You look like a strawberry.”

Eva snorted from the corner, unable to stifle her laughter. Y/n cleared her throat, determined to hold her ground. “Yes, well, thank you. They’re in season.”

“Are they now?” Caleb’s tone was teasing, and Y/n couldn’t help but smile despite the slight embarrassment. Strawberries weren’t in season, but he enjoyed the banter.

“They are,” she insisted, a spark lighting up her eyes.

“Then I trust you know where the ripe one is?” His gaze was warm, his smile contagious.

Y/n felt her cheeks flush deeper, but before she could respond, he gently took her hand, intertwining his fingers with hers. The touch sent a pleasant shiver down her spine. Together, they walked out of the house, the chatter of her family fading behind them.

As they stepped into the sunlit yard, the gentle breeze carried the scent of the sea, mingling with the earthy aromas of the farm. Caleb turned to her, his expression shifting to something more serious. “I’ve been thinking about what’s happening today…”

Y/n’s heart raced. She knew this was the moment to speak up, to share her fears and her father’s plan. But for now, she let the warmth of his hand and the softness of the afternoon settle around them, hoping to find the right words as they moved further from the house and deeper into the lush fields.

“Listen... I wanna marry you—” Caleb began, his tone earnest.

“Yes,” Y/n interrupted, her heart racing.

“What?” His expression shifted, surprise flashing across his face.

“Yes! I’ll marry you,” she declared, her excitement bubbling over.

“Let me finish,” he said, his brow furrowing slightly.

Y/n looked at him, confusion evident in her eyes.

Caleb’s smile faded, replaced by a serious expression. “Y/n. Don’t get me wrong. You’re a beautiful woman. And we’re good friends. But really, it’d be more of an exchange. I’ll marry you. But I want your father’s farm.”

Her eyes widened in disbelief. “Excuse me?”

“I mean it,” he pressed, his voice steady but tinged with urgency. “If we’re going to make this work, we need to secure the land. The L/n farm is rich, and with your hand in marriage, I’d have both a partner and a stake in something that could thrive.”

Y/n felt her heart drop. The warmth of the moment had evaporated, replaced by a chill of realization. “You want to marry me for the farm?” she asked, hurt creeping into her voice.

Caleb’s expression hardened, his jaw set. “You thought this wouldn’t have an exchange? Marriage is a contract. I keep you safe, I get the land.”

“I can’t give you what isn’t mine,” Y/n shot back, her voice rising in disbelief.

“Look, you’re inheriting the farm. Your father is old. When I marry you, I inherit the farm instead. You’ll still have your sheep and goats, but I want you to stay in the gardens with the flowers.” He stepped closer, his eyes earnest. “Think about it. I’ll spruce the place up, combine our land. We can make a name for ourselves!”

Y/n stared at him, the weight of his words settling heavily on her shoulders. “You’re talking about my life as if it’s just an asset, Caleb! What if I don’t want to be tied to the farm? What if I want to travel, to explore beyond Linkon?”

He paused, the intensity in his eyes faltering. “But this is our home! This is where our lives are. We can make it better together.”

Caleb’s expression softened momentarily, but he quickly masked it with determination. “I’m not trying to control you! I just see potential—”

“Potential for what? For you to fulfill your dreams at the expense of mine?” Y/n felt anger bubbling inside her. “You’re reducing our relationship to a business deal!”

“I’m trying to think practically!” he insisted, frustration creeping into his voice. “We live in a harsh world, Y/n. If you get chosen today, it could be the end of everything for us. I just want to protect you!.... I care about you. But this isn’t just about us. It’s about doing what’ll be best.”

Silence hung between them, heavy with unspoken words and emotions. Y/n looked at him.

...Why did it feel scripted?

She ignores the brief thought, letting it slip just as quickly as it had arrived. “I need time to think,” she said, her voice barely a whisper.

“You don’t have time to think,” Caleb said suddenly, pulling a small box from his pocket. He opened it to reveal a simple yet elegant ring. “I got the ring. Just wear it.”

“You’re kidding,” Y/n replied, disbelief flooding her voice.

“I’m not,” he insisted, his gaze steady.

“Caleb—” she started, but he interrupted her.

“That farm is precious, and your family doesn’t even see it. Just marry me and let me help you.”

Y/n’s heart raced as she stared at the ring. “You can’t just expect me to decide everything right now! This is my life we’re talking about!”

“I know it is! But we’re out of time. If you don’t make a choice before the selection, you could end up as one of those girls, the ones that don't get anything good!”

The gravity of his words settled in her chest like a stone. She thought of the stories her grandmother had told her, the dark legends woven through the village about the gathering and the sacrifices. The idea of becoming one of those girls made her stomach churn.

“Caleb, this isn’t the way,” she said, shaking her head. “I don’t want to feel like I’m being sold off or bartered for land.”

“But you wouldn’t be! You’d be marrying someone who loves you, who wants to protect you!” He took a step closer, desperation flickering in his eyes. “Please, just wear the ring. We can figure everything else out together.”

Scripted. It felt so scripted. But why?

Y/n felt torn, her heart battling against her mind. The prospect of safety and partnership clashed with her desire for freedom and choice. “I… I need to think about it,” she said, her voice trembling.

“Look, if you’re not gonna marry me, I can wait for Eva. Or I’ll marry Lorraine—”

“Eva? Lorraine? Excuse me? Them of all people?” Y/n shot back, incredulous. The idea felt like a slap. Lorraine was the village gossip, always getting into trouble and never taking anything seriously. And her sister? Absolutely.

Caleb shrugged, a smirk playing on his lips. “I’m just saying, she wouldn’t mind. If you don’t want me, someone else will step in.”

“Right, because that’s how love works,” Y/n snapped, her frustration boiling over. “You can’t just jump from one sister to another like we’re some kind of game to you!”

“It’s not a game!” he argued, stepping closer, the tension thickening the air between them. “This is about survival, Y/n! Don’t you see? You can either have me fighting for you or risk being taken away, offered to the sea. I don’t want to lose you!”

Y/n’s heart raced as she considered his words again, the weight of the impending selection pressing down on her. The fear of the Dark Sea loomed larger than ever. “But I don’t want to feel trapped,” she said, her voice quieter now, almost pleading.

Caleb softened, his expression earnest. “You won’t be trapped with me. We can make it work, and build a life together. Just think about it—before it’s too late.”

As she looked into his eyes, Y/n felt a swirl of emotions—fear, anger, and- disgust? But the thought of marrying him out of desperation gnawed at her conscience. “I need more time- stop saying we don't have it."

“Time is the one thing we don’t have,” he replied, frustration creeping back into his voice. “Please, just wear the ring. Show me you’ll consider this. I can’t bear the thought of you being chosen—”

“Y/n! Come on, we’re waiting for you!” Eva’s voice called from the house, pulling her back to reality.

Caleb took her hand, his grip firm but gentle, as he slid the ring onto her finger. “Insurance. Just in case,” he said, his voice steady despite the uncertainty swirling around them.

Y/n blinked, her heart racing, but before she could respond, laughter echoed from inside the house. Her family had gathered, and when they saw Caleb placing the ring on her finger, their cheers erupted like a sudden storm.

“Oh, look at that!” her mother exclaimed, beaming. “My darling Y/n is engaged!”

Y/n’s eyes widened in shock. “No! Wait!” But the joyous noise drowned out her protests. Eva clapped her hands, and Lucy jumped up and down, her chubby cheeks flushed with excitement.

“Caleb! You clever boy!” Eva gushed. “We knew you’d come through!”

“But you don’t understand—” Y/n started, but her voice was lost in the commotion.

“Come here, you two!” Mrs. L/n pulled Y/n into a tight embrace, tears of joy glimmering in her eyes. “I’m so proud of you, my sweet girl. You’re all grown up!”

Y/n felt the weight of her mother’s affection, but dread settled heavily in her chest. She glanced at Caleb, searching for a flicker of understanding, but he was caught up in the whirlwind of celebration, a victorious grin plastered across his face.

“Now we can start planning the wedding!” her mother continued, clapping her hands together. “This is wonderful news! The whole village will be thrilled!”

Y/n’s heart sank. The idea of a wedding felt like a chain, tightening around her, and the implications of her father’s words crashed over her again. Marrying Caleb was supposed to be a lifeline, a way to escape the selection—but something was off.

“Are you really happy about this?” she whispered to Caleb, who was now being congratulated by her father.

He turned, his expression earnest. “Of course I am. This is our chance. You’ll see.”

But Y/n could only nod, a forced smile on her lips, as the celebration continued around her. 

And in the distance, carriages were coming, adorned with the rain clouds. 

taglist: @0chemicalwaste0 copyright © 2024 Hellinistical all rights reserved. no part of this story may be reposted, edited, or reproduced without the author’s permission.

[from-the-coffee-shop-in-edoras]

The debate that's older than I am.

That being; "Eowyn's cooking is awful enough to kill grown men, or is Rohan's cultural food that strange to foreners?"

So, I'm curious what you think a regular meal is like in Edoras for one. I live in Midwestern America, and a staple is plain but calorie rich food to keep you full longer and to deal with the cold better, and sometimes I wonder if Rohan could be the same way. Of course, making outsiders not used to such a "strange" diet.

But it could also go the other way that people in Edoras (especially Eowyn) do not know what a nice meal looks like, and will continue to cook horrors for generations to come.

Do you have any thoughts? :).

Ah, the Éowyn stew scene….one that I would have on my short list to “discuss” with Sir Peter if the opportunity ever came to pass!

I think if you accept that scene as canonical, then the only thing you can reasonably infer from it is that Éowyn never learned how to cook. (And why should she? From the time that she was 7, she was living in the king’s own household with only him, Théodred and Éomer as family. They had staff for cooking, and she probably would have been shooed out of the kitchens even if that was a place she wanted to be!) 

Anyone who wants to go from there to the idea that Rohirrim food is bad overall or that they’re making things that are so culturally distinct and unusual that their food is off-putting to outsiders is certainly welcome to make that their HC, though I don’t personally see it that way. And I think the books back me up — there are *several* scenes with large groups of people from across Middle Earth taking meals in Rohan, and nowhere in any of them is even a single whisper of a hint that there’s anything strange or unpleasant about the Rohirrim food.

Geographically speaking, a lot of Rohan does seem like the American midwest or central plains — lots of open, grassy land, a full four seasons of weather, landlocked but with rivers. They had wild boar and probably deer and rabbits, since those were in the surrounding lands. They raised “herds,” which probably meant horses but could have also been cows. They had lots of farms — Saruman’s troops burned a bunch on their way to Helm’s Deep! — and could have grown all kinds of grains and produce that are appropriate for that climate (Aragorn says parts of Rohan are only 60 leagues south of the Southfarthing, though much further east, so perhaps their growing options wouldn’t have been all that different from the Shire, at least outside of the mountainous areas!). They could have fished in the rivers. 

So they’d have had access to lots of different types of ingredients, none of which are especially unusual either here or in-universe. And I don’t see any reason why the cooks of Rohan would be uniquely inept or incapable of using those ingredients to make things that were good! I happen to agree with your characterization — a lot of Rohan isn’t *fancy* or *cosmopolitan* so they’re not making really elaborate, complicated cuisine with a capital C, but they’d have things that were hearty and filling and would keep you on your feet for long days of physical work. And that doesn’t have to mean lacking in flavor or skill! And then, of course, there are also plenty of royals and nobility in Rohan, and they could have easily had fancier, more sophisticated food since they’d have resources to get the best ingredients and full-time staff to handle just food preparation.

So that’s my thought! It seems like you and I are probably on the same page here, though certainly let me know if you’ve got other ideas and opinions — I am *always* happy to hear them! And thanks for asking!

[secondcupforyou]

if you leave me? (what can i do)

disclaimer, this is purely for entertainment purposes and does not reflect who seventeen are as people.

pairing! dino (lee chan) x gender neutral! reader

tags! historical royalty au, childhood friends to lovers, angst with a happy ending, non-linear narrative, probably incorrect royal terminology

warnings! light swearing, near death injury (the cause of the injury is offscreen and not gone into detail, but it is still there), panic attack/mental breakdown

summary! the two of you grew up together—well, as together as two people from different kingdoms could—so it was almost expected that the two of you fell in love. what was not expected was for the person you learned to love almost getting killed before you could even think of confessing your feelings.

word count! 3.9k

author’s note! happy (kinda belated) birthday dino!! i’m glad i was able to finish this in time. now, this is the first time i’ve done this, so please let me know if anything is off!! also thank you to @horangboosadan for helping me with kingdom names and getting my thoughts down (and waiting so long, lmao).

If someone were to ask you what regrets you held, you would counter it by asking how they wanted them listed: alphabetically or chronologically. Maybe they would even get it listed by severity if the day was that kind of day. Luckily for them, it was that kind of day.

“I, for one, do not understand why we cannot storm the damned country, slaughter that bastard of a king, and have our military come home,” you said as you jumped onto the bed.

Turning away from the dresser after putting the supplies back into place, Minghao began to speak: “First of all, I beg of you to not mess up your hair, that took more time than necessary. Second of all, do you want me to explain the quite substantial list of reasons why or do you only have the need to talk my ear off?”

With a look of mock annoyance spreading across your face, you took a pause before speaking again: “Please let me fill any meaningful silence with my complaints. Ahem, we have the resources to end the war, so I cannot understand why father will not use said resources to bring our military home. I would also like to bring up—”

“If this is about your somewhat endearing, somewhat frustrating infatuation with Sir Chan, I would rather you talk about it explicitly compared to attempting to avoid it,” Minghao cut you off as he sat on the corner of the bed. “If this somehow is not about your romantic dilemmas, you could talk to King Jeonghan about your qualms with the war. Though before you do, you should understand that the war is almost over and the Alliance is doing all it can to ensure the safety of all parties besides that devil of a king from Soles and his allies.”

You huffed as you sat back up on the bed. “Just because you have the ability to read me well does not mean you should use said power to make fun of me. Furthermore, I recognise how close we are to ending the war and the work the Alliance have done, but I would just like to complain.”

“To begin with, I never said you did not realise it, but rather that your father would question you at first. Next, I grew up alongside you. I would think I understand you quite well.”

“Oh Lord, stop making fun of me.”

A loud knock comes from the door, interrupting the conversation. Dusting off their legs, Minghao stood up from the bed to answer the door. He slowly opened the door, welcoming the new figure. It was a guard. Soonyoung, if you remembered correctly. He first turned towards Minghao, bowing, before turning towards you.

“I have received news that Sir Lee Chan from the Kingdom of Pledis has been severely injured and is being relocated back to the capital of Pledis.”

“What?!”

Even after growing up in a castle, there will always be something intimidating about tall ceilings and long marble staircases. Most people would think one might find it normal, but there is nothing normal about gold leaf decor scattering the ceilings, especially when the people who own the decor are from one of the most powerful countries in the continent. However, there was something a little bit comforting this one time.

You didn’t know what made you feel relaxed, but, if you were to guess, it would be that you were no longer the only kid wandering between adults who talked about pleasantries while pretending they were not trying to acquire every possible flaw of the other. And, of course, while you had been to high class functions with kids your age before, they had never been these more political ones your father dragged you to. Well, Vernon, your brother, would often accompany you, but recently he had been sick.

Before you could spiral about your impending loneliness, a voice called out from the front of the carriage: “We are about to arrive, your Highness, so I would ensure all the final details are ready before we properly approach the Castle of Pledis.”

With that, your father thanked the voice—it seemed to be Joshua, his personal assistant—before turning to properly face you, eyes hinting at wanting to say something. However, there was nothing to be said that was not already known, so you took this as a sign to assure your father that you were prepared.

Soon, the carriage slowed down. As that happened, you looked out the window to see a group of figures at the entrance of the castle. After the carriage stilled completely, the door to the carriage opened, encouraging them to leave.

Once you exited the carriage, it became apparent just how intimidating the castle was with its tall, stone walls, but that may be because of the new environment. Slowly, you followed behind your father, beginning to zone out, while approaching the stairway leading towards the large wooden door. You had done this all before, so it was easy to not pay attention. However, once a new voice started speaking, it was hard not to.

“It is a pleasure to greet the two of you as I welcome you into our lovely kingdom. Once again, my name is Choi Seungceol, and these three are my children: Jihoon, Seokmin, and Chan.” Seungcheol turned toward them and lowered his voice, “Go ahead, introduce yourself to Y/N while King Jeonghan and I begin our conversation about the recent developments in both of our countries.”

With a quick look at each other, the three stepped forward. The two older looking ones seemed to push the youngest forward, opting to hide behind him with a grin. Whether or not it was out of shyness or mischievousness, you could not tell, but it did not stop the boy from sighing before properly making eye contact with you with a seemingly genuine smile.

“It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, L/N Y/N,” the boy said with a bow. “My name is Lee Chan, and I am third in line for the throne for the Kingdom of Pledis.”

“I want to tell you to relax, but I do not believe that will change much,” Minghao sighed as he followed you down the hall leading towards the throne room.

”And you would be correct. I refuse to sit idly as a person I care about is almost certainly in a state of extreme pain.” You took a deep breath before turning around to face Minghao, “Now, I will be speaking to my father, and I will be visiting Pledis by sunset tomorrow.”

Turning back around, you rushed to the tall, golden doors that opened to the throne room where your father was waiting. With a little pause, you opened the doors before rushing into the room. The few people in the room shifted their attention to the intrusion, not expecting to be interrupted. As the conversation halted, you made eye contact with the king.

“Y/N?” your father questioned. “Is everything all right?”

“Father, I have been informed that Chan had been injured in the war. I wish to ask you if I could travel to Pledis to see him.”

King Jeonghan let out a small laugh, “Sweetheart, even if I were to try to prevent you from leaving, I know you would find a way.”

“I cannot fully say you are incorrect…”

”Exactly,” the king smiled, “now the group of us here were just discussing what to do.”

“Ah! If I may, Your Majesty?” someone spoke as they glanced back towards the king, waiting for a nod of approval before continuing. ”Let me first introduce myself. My name is Boo Seungkwan, and I am a messenger from Pledis. We have plans to depart as soon as we finish our conversation here. If it is approved by Your Majesty and yourself, we would be honoured to take you to visit our prince.”

“Well then, what do you say, Y/N?” your father said, prompting you to respond. “If you truly wish to visit Prince Chan, then you have my approval. All I ask is that you at least bring Sir Wonwoo and Sir Mingyu with you as this is a last minute trip.”

“I understand. Thank you, father. Thank you, Sir Boo. I will now go back to my room and prepare for my departure.” After speaking, You turned back towards the doors you used to barge in where Minghao was waiting.

“You crazy bastard,” Minghao sighed as he followed you back to your room. “Only someone stupid in love would run to another country on short notice.”

“I will let you know that I heard you.”

”Have you considered that I wanted you to?”

Big events are a special time of organised chaos as a royal. There is an almost unnecessary list of things that need to be attended to just for the night to be perfect. It even breaks down to the personal level of “what outfit one can wear” because the image a royal needs to carry is a complex one. Thankfully, the stress of planning your debutante ball had come to a close a week ago, and now you only need to worry about looking your best.

”Thank the heavens that everything was figured out,” Minghao huffed as he watched you get your make-up done.

You smiled, “Well, who is to say nothing will go wrong during the ball?”

“It is your debut you are cursing, not mine.”

The two laughed as the final touches were put on your outfit. You had around thirty minutes left before you were expected to appear at the ball. However, that time came quickly as Wonwoo and Mingyu, your personal guards, came to escort you. Though your father soon took over after arriving at the entrance to the ballroom.

“I believe in you,” your father whispered before opening the doors to officially introduce you to the guests. It was then when you were guided down the stairs for your first dance before you were paraded around for people to try to kiss up to the royal family.

And that was most of the night: walking around, introducing yourself to others, being congratulated on your debut, and given strained compliments. It was mindless yet tiring. Though, before you could take a small break, a familiar face approached her.

“You look beautiful and congratulations on turning seventeen,” Chan smiled as he reached out his hand. “Now, may I have this dance?”

While taking his hand and dipping into a small bow, you responded with a small ‘yes,’ letting yourself be led onto the dance floor. As the two of you continued to dance, you realised that this was the most peaceful you felt this night.

Even though you had travelled to and from the Kingdom of Pledis countless times before, it always felt a little bit different. Sometimes snow would be covering the road, and other times there would be birds above, migrating across the continent. This time it was filled with a unique stress you had never felt before. Then again, you had never experienced someone you loved almost being killed in battle.

Soon the trees turned into homes, and you could not tell if getting closer to the castle had helped calm your anxiety. There was comfort in being able to see Chan soon, but that caused more fear to creep in as you didn’t know what to expect. However, the castle came into view before they could worry much about these thoughts.

Once the carriage slowed to a stop, each action was almost autopilot. You allowed for the doors to be opened before stepping out and rushing to the castle’s entrance. This quickness garnered small glances from some of the workers outside, not used to foreign royalty rushing towards the castle. Though just as you were about to enter the castle, you heard a voice call from behind.

“Y/N?” Seokmin questioned, bafflement all over his face. “What are you doing here?”

From the looks of it, he seemed to have arrived back home after attending some commitment of his. That was when you finally realised the almost complete ridiculousness of travelling to another country within two days of receiving news of Chan’s injury. Hell, the only reason you even arrived so soon was due to both kingdoms being on the smaller side and neighbours.

Not dwelling on it any longer, you got to the reason why you even came to the country: “Where is that idiot brother of yours? I need to get a word in with him.”

“Which one?” Seokmin laughed. At the deadpan stare he got, Seokmin properly answered your question, “Chan should be resting in his room.”

With a small nod, you began to head to Chan’s room as they no longer needed an escort after visiting so often. Before you were able to leave, Seokmin called out once more: ”Before you go, I beg of you not to kill him. I am afraid we need him.”

”I will not make promises I cannot keep, but I will try my best not to.”

The stress of sitting around a table never seemed to leave you even after years of handling politics with others twice your age. Maybe it was because you were younger that made the situation stressful, or maybe it was the topics being discussed themselves. This time it was definitely the topic itself.

“Soles has been up in flames since the turn of the season,” a military strategist from a country you could not remember as of now spoke. “It is imperative that we create a plan to follow by the fortnight.”

“While I stand in agreement with responding soon, who will even act as the leaders of this military pursuit? There needs to be multiple leaders working together, each from a separate country here today,” the voice speaking began to blend in to the world around, and you lost track of who was speaking. You could tell more was being said, but nothing made sense to you at that moment.

Then Chan raised his voice, it was the only one you could keep track of: “I will volunteer for Pledis.”

At that, small murmurs spread across the table, clearly not expecting him to step forward, so he continued to clarify: “I volunteer to lead the army of Pledis to help take down the bastard king of Soles. My father and brothers are unable to take on any direct role with this war, so it only makes sense for it to be me.”

As soon as you fully processed Chan’s words, you slammed your hands on the table, gathering others’ attention, “Chan, what in God’s name do you mean you are volunteering yourself to lead your army? We need you here.”

“It is exactly that. While my father and brothers deal with affairs within Pledis, I will be leading my army to help support the rebels of Soles. My family and I have already discussed what will be the best course of action for us to follow, and this was what we agreed upon.”

Your hands clenched as you took in Chan’s words. You then looked across the table to make eye contact with some of the other leaders at the table: “I apologise for my outburst. Now, if you could excuse me for a small while.”

At that, You left the room with a small bow. You could hear small murmurs inside, the only voice you could make out still being Chan’s, but you couldn’t pay attention to anything being said. Shaking it off, you moved forward, trying to find another room before you collapsed in the hallway.

After opening the tall doors, you tried to find a place for you to sit. However, before you could situate herself, you heard another person enter the room.

Turning around, you made contact with Chan as he began to speak, “Y/N? Is everything alright? Well, obviously not, but still…”

It was through those words that allowed for all the overwhelming feelings to take over. All the stress from the pressure to make the right decision to ensure the safety of both your country and the people you cared about, finally hit you, and tears fell before you could stop it.

“Why would you even need to leave?” your broken sobs came, trying to find anything to rationalise your thoughts at the moment. “Hell, you are a prince for heaven’s sake.”

Chan sighed, trying to find the best way to comfort you, “It is because I am a prince that I need to serve my country. Part of my duty as a future leader is to fight for my people and country; therefore, part of my duty is to fight in this war.”

You were only able to choke out a small “I know” before falling into a complete tearful mess and collapsing to the ground. As he watched you cry, Chan slowly moved to embrace you and wipe the tears falling from you eyes. He sat on his knees, waiting for you to feel even just a little bit better.

“Let me ask you one thing,” your voice finally said after several more minutes of sobbing. You could feel your throat closing and your eyes stinging, but it was the least of your concerns as of this moment.

“Anything. I will listen to anything you have to say.”

“I ask you to not get yourself killed.”

“You have my word,” Chan whispered as he kissed the back of your hand.

That was the last you heard from him after the war officially began.

“Chan,” you almost yelled as you slammed open the door. The man looked up from his book, but nothing he could want to say made it out in time before you were able to continue scolding him. “You better have a damned good reason for giving me an excessive amount of heart attacks. What in the actual hell even happened to cause you to be transported home? Because I know without fault that the only way you would be here at this moment is by you being forced for your own well being.”

As he didn’t fully register who was speaking to him at first, he was tense, but after realising it was you, he began to relax. A small smile fell upon his lips before he opened his mouth, trying to welcome you.

“Prince Lee Chan of the Kingdom of Pledis, this is not the time to be smiling,” you interrupted him as you closed the door.

“Y/N,” Chan whined as he watched you bring a chair to the side of his bed. “You have no reason to even be here.”

“You almost getting killed in battle is a perfectly fine reason to be here. I care for you, Chan. Let me worry for you as well.” You brought your hand to Chan’s forehead, brushing loose hair out of the way.

Chan leaned into the touch with a small smile before responding, “If I were to speak the complete truth, my memory of the situation is blurry as I lost consciousness soon after Soles’ army ambushed us. It seems they attacked me first as a way to cause havoc. Thankfully, my men were able to respond accordingly and the enemies were dealt with.” Chan bit his lip in anxiousness before continuing, “Since this may not be satisfactory enough for you, Sir Junhui was with me throughout the attack, and he filled out the official report. I would visit him if you have any more questions about the situation.”

“Understood, I may… I may do that later. However,” you hesitated, not knowing how to best express what you were thinking. “However, please let me ask you one more thing: are you okay?”

“This is the best I have allowed myself to feel since I was off at war.”

“Oh, thank the heavens.”

With a hesitant look flashing across his face, Chan continued to speak, “Though, I do have one last thing to say. If I may?”

You let out a light huff, “It better be something delightful.”

“Now, I should preface this—“ Chan said with a click of his tongue before being cut off.

“What other trouble did you get yourself into, goddamn it.”

“Please, let me finish.”

“Right. I apologise.”

“I preface this by saying I do not expect anything from you. This is only something I feel you deserve to know. I would also prefer it if you could let me finish before you respond.”

After he got a small noise of confirmation, Chan let his eyes drift until he focused on his lap. As he let out a small chuckle, he spoke, “To put it simply, I have fallen in love with you. In fact, I fell in love with you years before now, and these feelings have only grown since.

“You have always been a constant in my life, even when you are a country away. While this could be because we have grown up together, I find it hard to believe for that to be the case as you are the only person I feel this was towards. You are incredibly special to me. From the way you will make the smallest adjustment of your life to help a stranger to the way you will act so loving towards those you care deeply for. All of this, and more, has made me fall in love with you over the years we have known each other.

“I know there is a strong chance that you will never return these feelings to me, but I cannot let the chance where they are reciprocated vanish as I refuse to live with regrets. However, I beg of you to never feel as if you are in the wrong for not feeling the same.”

“Have you finished?” you asked with a small smile as you heard Chan pause.

“Yes.”

“I am in love with you too.”

Not expecting to hear those words, Chan quickly raised his head to look at you. “What?”

“I will say it once more: I am in love with you too. Maybe even since the first time we met one another. Every day I find something new to adore about your being, and I wish to find more. So, yes, I have fallen deeply in love with you as well.”

Without care for his injuries, Chan sat up and embraced you with as much strength as he could give, which was not as much as one would think a trained fighter could foster. Slowly, he pulls back and adjusts the two of them before asking a question: “May I kiss you?”

You smiled before giving a quick nod. “Yes, you may.”

After those words reached his ears, Chan leaned in as he put his hand on your cheek. Your lips met for a smile filled kiss, causing all worries to disappear. You two let a few moments pass as you took in each others’ warmth before separating.

With one final embrace, you worked towards moving Chan into a position that would no longer put strain on his injuries. As he was adjusted back on the bed, Chan let a bright smile reach his eyes while he joked: “They had been right about not waiting to confess until after the war. I would hold so much regret if I was never able to tell you about the love I hold for you.”

“You are the biggest fool I ever had the displeasure of meeting.”

“If I was such a displeasure then I find it hard to believe you would even be here at this moment.”

“Oh, be quiet.”

mirajane’s rambles! ahhhh i’m so happy i finished this! i finally sat my ass down and wrote lmao. though i wrote a lot of this while sick, so please tell me if anything doesn’t make sense. and happy birthday dino! i actually was gifted an otter plush two days ago, which was funny timing

any likes/reblogs/comments are appreciated <33

[siremasterlawrence]

In To The Dark Ages Part 2

Part 1 - 2

We hop on the horse kicking it in the shin as he races past the border going upward in to the north and we sped up to the gates of the castle causing a stir as both former man of kings.

They storm up to the gate demanding that they drop the draw bride to the gate as it comes crashing down and he rode in to the castle as people back off as we stride in so strongly.

We drop to the ground as the guards are on their way arriving with swords lead us inside to meet the king but unfortunately it was his son instead and Prince Stephen is at his side of it.

He stood as a Prince on the thrown proudly he is pumping up his fists in the air and then on his chest like a damn gorilla he howls in to the air excruciatingly and I watch in utter amazement.

He notices me jumping to the stone ground of the area staring at me almost daring me to fight and I wave him off arrogantly I know I am in control and I remove my sword from my sheath.

He does the same waving his sword in a hot rhythmic way but I block it with mine and we are at a stand still but I manage to kick him to the side.

The crowd enrage goes on attack mode in a beautiful display of strength and effort come at me but Ian leaps unfortunately in front of me.

His sword burns on fire as he protects me in a unmatched showmanship of conviction and loyalty like no other I have seen on this planet of will ever see at this point I turn to see Brandon.

He slays through hoard on the defensive he has one aim to be mine, one goal to save me at all cost and mostly importantly to expand my kingdom but it all falls in to place when he and Ian stabbed Stephen.

“You dare choose to question the king and challenge him.”

“He is the rightful heir obviously we learnt that too.”

“For sure Ian! I will not allow you to prevent his rise to this throne.”

“Besides he is not a king yet.”

“I am the only heir to the throne.”

“Foolish!”

“Ian and Brandon you have my permission to finish them all off and free the castle.”

“What should we do with Prince Stephen”

“He will see things my way eventually”

“I cannot see that happening .”

“Then why is my voice calling to you.”

“Yyyeeessss! I - I - I accept and obey “

“Do you comprehend everything?”

“You compelled me”

“ No need to resist”

“We are one body “

“We are all me mind”

“I belong to you “

“Kneel for me”

“Yes! My king”

“Sir Yes Sir”

Part 3 - 4

What we do not the man at the draw bridge drops setting motions that would transform this kingdom in to a magnificent a new off world because I will it to be at the center of it all.

The three men kneeling in front of me enjoy the power sensational bits of pleasure over taking them and spreading through nerves, blood and more all else is lost because I rule all.

I touch the tip bog each sword energetically transporting my presence in to it as if it is all about me because I am King now and own all who dare to fight me and rule against me ever again.

“Take a seat Sire”

“Are you sure boi?”

“Of course you rule”

“I’ll deal with my father “

“Do not worry”

“Mwahahahahaha”

“Ian…Brandon”

“Yes King”

“Join him “

“We will correct our brother “

“After I will pound you Stephen “

“Mmmmm! I can’t wait “

“What treachery is this?”

“Father you are home “

“Master Lawrence meet King”

“Tom”

“Do not deign to speak for me”

“Don’t be ridiculous father”

“Your eyes why are they…evil you have been possessed or enchanted.”

“The level of disrespect boi”

“You are disrespectful father “

“You speak with such rarity to me”

“I speak boldly the truth”

“Block him, hold him down and I’ll strike him “

“Who are you ? What have you infected my son with?”

“Infect no! I merely took what I want.”

“Why are you laughing? No! Do not place your lips on mine. Nnnnoooooo! Fuck! That is the most deliciously empowering experience my King.”

The end

[threeletterslife]

27 | Legends of Darlaria

⨰ summary: You wake up in yet another unfamiliar place. This time, however, these strangers seem to recognize you. With your previous judgments and aspirations thrown out the window, you're now forced to face where your loyalties really lie. Who will you betray? And which General will you choose to stand by his side?

⨰ pairing/rating: yoongi x reader & jungkook x reader | PG-15

⨰ genre: 70% angst, 30% fluff | war!au & magic!au

⨰ warnings: profanity, descriptions of violence and torture

⨰ wordcount: 4.4k

⨰ join the taglist! (pm/send in an ask/reply/reblog)

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⧖⧗Circa Opal⧗⧖

Darkness.

You’ve enveloped yourself in darkness. 

It’s hard to breathe under the covers, but it’s like you’ve crawled into a cave. You feel safe inside. So you pretend you’re back in Solaria, in your scarlet tent, hiding under your cotton blankets, wearing your Solarian uniform. You pretend it’s been a difficult day on the battlefield and now that the adrenaline rush has faded, you’re left with body aches and fatigue. You pretend the General—Yoongi—is on his way to invite you to dinner. When he comes in, you’ll act surprised, although you already suspected he’d come. Then, the two of you would walk side by side towards the cooking tent where a large cauldron would contain the porridge of the day. You’d make a small conversation with him, but even so, the moment would feel so big. You imagine he’d ask you how the battle went for you, and he’d secretly hint at the fact that he doesn’t want you to go again. You’d tell him it was fine, but he’d gently press you until you tell him everything you really felt: the terror, the stress, the unbelievable amount of sheer adrenaline. He’d listen intently and afterward, he’d tell you he’s glad you got out alive. But the imagination abruptly melts away into darkness when there is a knock on the door.

You hear a muffled, yet silvery voice: “May I come in?”

Wonderful timing. Just when you were having an entire fantasy about another man.

“Yes—” You stop yourself before you can call him ‘sir,’ and quickly, you pull the covers off your head to pretend you hadn’t just been sulking in the bed for the past—who knows how long it’s been?

The Darlaean General walks in.

You realize now that you may have to accept the fact that you will never be able to read this man. He’s as stoic as ever, but at least he’s not in his intimidating Darlaean uniform anymore. Without his fur-collared cape and stiff uniform, he looks almost normal in his plain silk shirt and dark gray slacks. The silver sword sheathed in his belt is an anomaly, however. It seems that he always carries it around. At least around you. Does he still think of you as a threat? Is he secretly waiting for you to mess up? What if one more mistake leads to your beheading? But he wouldn’t do that… would he?

You begin to nervously fiddle with your necklace, wondering if he decided to change his mind about his previous generosity. What if he’s coming to put you away behind bars?

But contrary to your thoughts, the Darlaean General halts at the foot of your bed and speaks: “I thought you ought to know. The memory potion will be ready in three days’ time. I’ve also managed to convince the king to postpone the ceremony of your arrival the day after your memories should be recovered. Stalling any more than that and he would’ve been suspicious.”

This is definitely not what you expected him to say. So you blink, face completely blank. It’s silent for a moment, but even in that minute of silence, the awkwardness in the air is painful. And maybe you don’t want to appear rude or maybe you want to put an end to the uncomfortable silence so you say thank you—except your voice comes out in a hideous croak that surprises you so much your eyes widen.

He doesn’t react at all. For a second, you think he might just invite himself to sit on your bed again and initiate some sort of small talk. And for a second, you panic. Because as bad as it sounds, you don’t want him to. Not because you don’t like him, and not because he makes you feel uncomfortable, but because you need some time alone. Maybe you need to be alone until you get your memories back. Maybe all you want to do is dwell in your fantasies and memories of Solaria until you can’t anymore—until you remember who were you in Darlae. Maybe spend these last moments with Yoongi—

Thankfully, it seems that the Darlaean General also has no intentions of small talk. He glances at you, nothing showing in his black eyes, before walking out of your room without another word. This time, however, the door shuts lightly, and the last thing you see is a mysterious flash of royal blue glinting from his sword.

Strange.

Something about the color feels so familiar yet out of reach, but what can you do about it, anyway? It’ll come to you when they force you to take the potion. But are they really forcing you? Deep, deep down, aren’t you curious too? You’ve seen glimpses of your memories in your dreams. You’ve seen how in love you used to be with the Darlaean General.

You remember running across a meadow with him, remember him clasping on your necklace from behind, remember fighting with him, remember crying in front of a tombstone with him by your side… Yet it’s different now. You see yourself repeating the same scenes with someone else.

“I could have gone in to tell her the same thing, sir,” Seokjin tells Jungkook as soon as he exits your room. “Or you could have asked her lady-in-waiting to do it.”

It sounds like his lieutenant is reprimanding him, but since Seokjin means well, Jungkook decides to let it go, only shaking his head. “I had to see how she was doing.”

“But you didn’t even ask, sir, did you?”

“No.” He thinks for a bit, before deciding to indulge Seokjin in his theory. “She misses Solaria. She was swaddled in her blankets when I walked in. I believe she must have been sulking under the covers. She did that quite often.”

Seokjin looks unsure. “She… misses Solaria…?”

“It’s unfathomable; I know,” Jungkook answers and refuses to elaborate further. “Tell her lady-in-waiting to bring her the duck roast dinner to her chambers.” He turns on his heel to leave, but when his lieutenant speaks, he stops immediately in his tracks.

“Are you sure we should be pampering her, sir?” Seokjin asks, eyebrows downturning. “She’s Solarian, as far as we know. As far as she knows, too.”

A surge of anger shoots from his toes to the top of Jungkook’s head. He whirls around, eyes darker than before, posture straightening so that he’s towering over his subordinate. “Don’t,” he seethes, voice impossibly quiet and strained. “Don’t fucking call her that.”

“I-I’m sorry, sir. F-Forgive m—”

“She did what she did there to survive. You will not judge her for it, Kim Seokjin. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir.” Seokjin lowers his head. “My apologies, sir.”

“Relay my orders to her lady-in-waiting,” Jungkook says sharply. He walks away, and this time, even when he hears Seokjin reply, he doesn’t stop.

You’ve left behind so much. And the worst part about it? You never even got to say goodbye. 

Though the blankets over your legs are quite thick and fluffy, they don’t feel natural at all. Occasionally, you see a small, white feather that pops out of the duvet, and it disconcerts you every time. You hope that they’re not real.

You miss the natural warmth of the crackling campfires in Alder, the natural warmth of Heli, too. You wish he were here with you, so you could wrap your arms around him and bury your face in his soft, blazing fur. You miss the morning walks at the edge of the forest, the simplicity of your own tent, the nature, the greenery… the white pansies, which blossom year-round thanks to the earth mediums.

Oh, Doyun.

You miss talking to her. It’s been so long. Will she even answer you now that you’re in enemy territory? She must hate you too. She must think that you’re a liar, a cheat, a horrible person. She had believed in you when no one else had, and this is how you repay her? By proving her wrong? Wherever she is, if she can even see or even hear your thoughts, she must wish death upon you. It’s your people who’ve killed her and her girlfriend, after all. 

“You’re being silly, you know.”

“D-Doyun!” you gasp, so startled that your legs tangle in your sheets.

She’s smiling, though there’s no mischief in her grin today. “Long time no see, huh?”

“How are you here?” you ask, not knowing whether to feel relieved or surprised. 

“Hm, I guess you can say I’m everywhere,” she says. “The spirit world has no limits.”

“I suppose it doesn’t,” you say. “Though I wouldn’t know.”

“Of course you wouldn’t,” she says with a laugh. “You’re not dead.”

“I might as well be,” you say. “I don’t know what to do, Doyun.”

“I can confidently say that not many have been in your position,” she says. “But I think you’ll make it through somehow. You’re strong, Y/N. Sometimes, I think you forget that.”

“I don’t know…” you whisper. “I really don’t know. I’m so conflicted all the time—and it’s barely been a full 24 hours since I’ve been here. I keep thinking about Solaria more and more, now that I know I can’t go back. And it makes me rethink everything about myself. It… It almost makes me wish I never threatened the General, er, Yoongi to be able to fight in battle. None of this would’ve happened if I hadn’t been so stubborn. Now he probably hates me. You probably hate me too, deep down inside.”

“Two things,” Doyun says, holding up two fingers. “One, no, I don’t hate you. It’s the quite opposite, really. I don’t care what you are, Y/N. Darlaean, Solarian, who gives a shit? When you’re dead, you realize how stupid everything we did when we were alive was. Including the damn war. Flaming hell. Still can’t believe I was a lieutenant for such a stupid cause. And two? I see you’re on a first-name basis with Yoongi now.”

Your face heats up. “I suppose I am,” you manage to say quite straightforwardly even though your heart beats a little faster inside your chest. “And thank you,” you say. “I needed to hear that.”

“But unlike me, you won’t die any time soon, so you need to give a shit about the war,” Doyun says. “You were high-ranking on both sides, so you have the choice,” she declares. “Who do you think deserves to win?”

It’s such a simple question, but you can’t even begin to fathom how you could answer it. And just when you’re about to confess to Doyun that you don’t know. there’s a knock on your door. 

Your eyes widen, but Doyun only smiles. She gives you a parting nod before she fades away into nothingness and you’re left in solitude once again. 

“Who is it?” you answer, having an inkling that it won’t be the Darlaean General.

“It’s your lady-in-waiting, Miss,” a foreign voice calls from the other side of the door.

A lady-in-waiting? You’ve never heard of such a thing. You’re unsure what to expect. Does she know you’ve lost your memories? The Darlaean General never mentioned anything about her. Does this mean you’ll have to play along? He told you not to arouse suspicion, which is mildly difficult to do if you don’t remember anything.

“I have your dinner, Miss,” the clear voice says again. It’s obvious now that a lady-in-waiting must be some fancy term for a worker. You imagine a younger woman behind the door—one with round eyes and full cheeks, at least judging from her voice. “May I come in?”

“Y-Yes!” you say, feeling quite stupid for not offering her to do so earlier. “Oh, of course.”

The door opens and you realize you’d been completely wrong. A tall, older-looking woman walks into your room, holding a massive tray table filled with steaming piles of food. She has several wrinkles on her face, especially on the forehead, and her hair is streaked with gray. Unlike your frilly nightgown, she has on a plain, gray frock that hangs off of her figure rather shapelessly.

“May I?” she asks, and when you nod, she sets the table down on your bed, right in front of you. You stare at the food. How can you eat all of this by yourself? Surely, this is a meal for five others. In fact, this looks like a meal for royalty!

There is a silver bowl filled with cooked wild rice and steamed peas, drizzled with a bright yellow mystery sauce. Right next to it sits a small cauldron and in it, there looks to be creamy mushroom stew, topped with an herb you recognize as rosemary. It smells heavenly, its steam rising up into the air in wispy coils. On the silver platter closest to you, there is an assortment of bread, but not just any bread—sweet bread that boasts thick jam and powdery sugar and shiny glazes. Your mouth waters just looking at it. But there is one dish that makes you blanch when you see it. It’s the centerpiece—the star of the show—but it makes you feel sick in the stomach.

They’d given you some sort of roasted bird. It’s been browned, possibly slow-cooked in hot flames, so that it’s completely unrecognizable. How could they do such a thing? You feel bile rising up your throat.

“What is it, Miss? Is everything all right?” your lady-in-waiting asks in worry. “You look a little sick.”

“I-I’m… I’m all right,” you say, attempting to keep a straight face. “It’s just… Yes, I’ve missed Darlaean food.”

“Oh, Miss,” your lady-in-waiting says. “I’m so sorry.” She looks like she means it, too, which is what makes you feel worse about your lie. “Anything you want, I’ll have it prepared for you.”

“That’s okay,” you say, shaking your head. “I’d just… I’d like to be alone for a while.”

She looks at you with so much pity that you feel worse. “Very well, Miss,” she says. “But please, ring for me if you please.” 

When she closes the door behind her, you take the platter serving the roasted bird and set it aside—somewhere you can’t see it. Then, you take a couple of deep, soothing breaths. Doyun told you that you’re strong. So you’re not going to break down over a dead bird. You’re going to act like it’s fine. You’ll continue on with your dinner as if nothing happened. But sweat drips down the back of your neck. You pretend it’s not there.

The silverware is too heavy in your hands, and you hate that you can see your reflection on them. But how can you be complaining? When you’ve just been given a meal for royalty? Feeling a little shameful, you decide to dip your spoon into the mushroom stew first. It’s hot, but not enough to burn your tongue. The flavor is rich and a little nutty, too. It’s hard to describe, but it’s delicious. You reach for another spoonful before you turn your attention to the wild rice. It melts in your mouth. The yellow mystery sauce turns out to be quite sweet, and it complements the butteriness of the rice and the softness of the peas. You try the flakey pastries last, savoring the sweet and tart fillings on your tongue. The food is so good that you ravenously finish it all—except for the roast bird. Once you’re done, you set the roast bird back on the table and then stand up to move the table near your door. It’s mainly to keep the bird out of your sight, but it’s also for convenience, so your lady-in-waiting can easily take it with her.

It’s only after a few minutes that you feel immense guilt for consuming the food. You wonder if the other Darlaeans are eating this well or if this is a privilege granted to you by your past position. But soon, you realize the funny feeling in your stomach is not guilt but really a call for the toilet. 

The Solarian toilets were really stone holes in the ground, which you didn’t mind because they were cleaned quite regularly. You never really thought twice about it, for a toilet is a toilet. But the Darlaean toilet is extraordinary. First of all, the room in which the toilet is held is massive. The floors are made of white marble and the walls seem to gleam in silver. An enormous marble bathtub sits near the edge of the room, which looks ostentatious compared to the clay holes in the ground that you bathed in Solaria. Then, there’s the toilet—a regal-looking marble contraption nothing like you’ve ever seen before.

The entire toilet room is so clean and pristine that you feel filthy just setting foot inside. Is this really all for you? How is this connected to your bedroom? You wonder who you used to be to have indulged so shamelessly in these luxuries. Who did you think you were? How much did you change since then? If your past self knew who you were now, would she be displeased that you’re sullying her possessions?

By the time you come back to your bedroom, the table with your finished food is gone. As good as it was, you’re not sure if you’ll miss it that much. The richness of the Darlaean dishes did not mesh well with your stomach, which had gotten so used to eating foods without much seasoning. You’re not exactly looking forward to another toilet room adventure. 

You also realize, as you sink back into your bed, that you never caught your lady-in-waiting’s name. It feels wrong—to have someone so dedicated to serving you. Even at the Min Estate, you took the time to learn the workers’ names. How could your lady-in-waiting refer to herself as just that? Her job? Did the past you even know her name? Would it be strange to ask her now? She would find it suspicious, wouldn’t she?

Your hands reach up to cover your eyes. On one part, you hope the memory potion is finished early—just so you can finally understand everything in this room full of memories. But another part of you wants to be Solarian as long as possible, for you know if you begin to recall your past, things won’t be as simple anymore. Sooner or later, you might be forced to reveal Solarian secrets. Watching the violet swirls of the magic canvas on your ceiling and worrying to no end, you doze off into a restless slumber.

“How did she enjoy the food?” Jungkook asks, stepping in the way of your lady-in-waiting, who nearly drops the table upon his sudden arrival. She attempts to salute him as he commands everyone to do in his presence but fails to do so while carrying the table.

“F-Forgive me, sir,” she squeaks. “She has eaten everything except for the roast duck.”

Jungkook frowns. “Did she mention why?”

“No, sir,” your lady-in-waiting says, lowering her head. “She did look a little unwell. I supposed it had something to do with her… arrival.”

“Yes, of course,” Jungkook says, though he knows that’s only the surface. “Thank you,” he says, which seems to relax some of the tension on the old woman’s shoulders. “Ready her breakfast at 7:30 tomorrow. Serve only her favorites.”

“Yes, sir.”

“And send word for Lieutenant Kim to see me in my office.” She nods her head in understanding. “Well, then you’re dismissed.”

“Yes, sir.” She scurries away, down along the stone corridor, her light footsteps echoing behind her.

Jungkook watches her leave, unsure if he should tell your most trusted servant the truth—that you’ve lost your memories and believed you were a helluvian for three years. But in a split second, he decides against it. He’d rather contain the number of people who knows the truth—for your own safety. And his, of course. If the king finds out Jungkook’s been keeping such a big secret, his highness would demote Jungkook without an ounce of hesitation. The king wouldn’t hurt you, however. He’d never hurt you. It makes Jungkook feel a little sour, so he stops thinking about it.

He begins walking down the corridor in the opposite direction, his sword swishing straight back and forth with each step. He’s heard the numerous rumors of your arrival already. People are quick and rather inventive. It hasn’t even been a full day since you’ve been back, but he’s heard about eight different versions of your cursed time in Solaria. You were tortured for three years but managed to strike a deal with the helluvian General, tricking him into letting you fight in a battle, only to be taken back to Darlae in one piece. You were tortured for three years but managed to escape onto the battlefield disguised as a helluvian soldier, hoping to be recaptured by Darlae. You took it upon yourself to spy on the helluvians, but they caught you and tortured you until you escaped, barely alive. The stories go on and on, each one even stranger than the last. Jungkook thinks they’re all bullshit. 

He soon arrives at a magnificent doorway, one with a beautiful arch and a dark wooden door with a silver knob. Opening the door, he walks in to find his office exactly the way he’d left it. Good. No one’s allowed in here without his permission. He absolutely despises it when anybody interrupts him when he’s working.

Jungkook sinks into his leather chair, crossing his legs and leaning back to stare at the high ceiling. There’s a woven canvas up there, identical to the one in your room with its deep purple threads, undulating like the ocean waves. Those had been a gift from your parents. He’d always appreciated the canvas. It’s a simple divination charm, something that helps you see the future—if you know how to read it, that is. You’d never cared too much about it; it was always decoration for you, and maybe that’s why you and your parents don’t talk too often. You were never too good at divination. Not like he was. 

He sighs, checking the black pendulum clock on the wall in front of him. Seokjin should be arriving any minute now. He counts down the seconds: five, four, three, two—

There’s a knock on the door. 

“Permission to enter, sir?” Seokjin’s voice comes from behind the door.

“Granted.”

Jungkook’s loyal lieutenant walks in with a slower gait than usual, staring at his shoes. He’s still ashamed from earlier. A small part of Jungkook wants him to be, for how dare he call you a helluvian? Yet another part of him thinks it’s stupid that his lieutenant dwells on such small scoldings; he should know by now that these reprimands are not to be taken personally. And it’s as if Seokjin hears Jungkook’s thoughts because the Lieutenant looks up and salutes, two fingers pressing onto his forehead. “You called for me, sir?”

“I did,” Jungkook confirms. “I need your knowledge.”

“Yes, of course, sir.”

“You’ve tortured your fair share of helluvians, Seokjin. So tell me, what do they eat?”

“Sir?” Seokjin looks puzzled, staring up at Jungkook with furrowed brows and a slightly agape mouth.

“Answer my question, Lieutenant.”

“Well,” Seokjin says, slowly and steadily, but most importantly, cautiously, “the Solarians are known to be quite primitive in their diet, sir. They tend not to eat meat. Or even foods derived from animals.”

Jungkook lifts an eyebrow. “How tasteless.”

“You can imagine how easy it is for us to torture them,” Seokjin nods in agreement. “Boil a fat pig in a pot and make them watch. They’ll squeal like they’re the ones being boiled alive.”

“Spare me the details, Seokjin.” Jungkook leans forward, an elbow placed on his mahogany desk as he rests his chin on his fist. He remains expressionless, but even Seokjin can sense that he’s in trouble again. “So, tell me, Lieutenant, if you knew the helluvian diet, why didn’t you stop me when I ordered Y/N the traditional roast duck dinner?”

The Lieutenant begins to stutter. “W-Well, well I… I… I apologize, sir,” he says, having taught before that anything else would be considered an excuse. “Was she all right, sir?”

“No, Seokjin, her lady-in-waiting informed me that she looked unwell.” Jungkook sighs, leaning back in his chair again and running his fingers through his hair. “But it’s partly my fault, too, Lieutenant, which you ought to know. I only wanted to treat her to her favorite meal.”

“You couldn’t have known, sir,” Seokjin says apologetically. 

Jungkook shakes his head. “I’ve been agitated since her arrival, so forgive me in advance if I am curt with you in the future.”

“Yes, sir.”

“That’s all I wanted to talk to you about. Run the meeting with the officials for me, today. I’ll be busy with the memory potion in the hospital wing,” Jungkook says. “And make sure Y/N’s breakfast tomorrow contains no meat. Tell her lady-in-waiting for me.”

“Yes, sir. I’ll get that done as soon as possible.”

“I can always trust you, Seokjin. Leave at your leisure, then.”

“Sir?”

“Yes, Seokjin?”

“You haven’t eaten anything since the battle this morning,” the Lieutenant says. “And what about your midday nap?”

“I am aware of the inconsistencies in my schedule,” Jungkook sighs. “But how can I eat with my girlfriend in that state? How can I nap in peace? No, Lieutenant Kim. I will not rest until she has her memories back. The entire nation rests on her shoulders. This is her position, not mine. I’m on borrowed time, Seokjin.” Something about the way Jungkook says it sounds bitter, however, and as expected, Seokjin catches on.

“Borrowed time or not, sir, you make a fine General, and I will always serve you.”

Jungkook stares at his lieutenant, then he just nods, standing from his seat. “Well, then, Seokjin. Why don’t you accompany me to the hospital wing?”

“Of course, sir! Right away!”

As the two of them walk side by side down the stone corridors, Jungkook becomes lost in his thoughts. Your arrival will change things. That much, he knows from the charmed canvas he read just minutes before. But earlier this morning, when he was having breakfast and something inside told him to change his plans and lead the battle today, that had been on his own accord, not the divination charm. He can’t help but think it had something to do with fate. You and he were fated to meet again.

So you’ll come around; he’s sure of it. You’ve always been good at mending broken things. You fixed him when he was at his lowest point. It’s finally time to return the favor. He’ll cure you from the helluvians; he’ll make you realize that nothing is stronger than Darlaean blood. 

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⨰ a/n: eheheheheh i can't wait to introduce the darlaean magic system!!! i also can't wait for the ~flashback~ sequence 👀

please consider telling me your thoughts with a comment, an ask or a reblog :) i love hearing readers' impressions/rambles/predictions! if you want to join the taglist, send in a private message, ask, reply to this post or reblog with your request!

[druidx]

Her Countenance was Light - Chapter 12

CW: None AO3; Chapters: 01. 10. 11. Tag list (ask for +/-): @aquadestinyswriting, @hannahcbrown, @jacqueswriteblrlibrary, @babyblueetbaemonster

Elo lets herself into the chambers from a side door. Her footsteps ring out as she passes over the multicoloured marble floor. The giant semicircular window, against which the menfolk are silhouetted in the waning daylight, rests against the semicircular speaking floor like someone has taken an oblique wedge from an orange. From the curve of the speaking floor, seating rises like a lecture hall to meet the domed roof. She's always thought this room is beautiful – perhaps more so when it's not filled with bickering politicians. The wooden balustrades are lovingly carved with vines and mythical creatures, the domed roof is moulded and painted with cornucopias, and the speaking floor is inlaid with the Triumvirate's seal in shimmering brass and coloured marble. "Good evening, your Majesty. Acting Magister. Exchequer," Elo greets them. Outside the window, the orange sun is captured on myriad windows, making the city blaze. "Lady Toreguarde," King Storri says, inclining his head in greeting. "It is indeed a fine eve." He takes a step to the right and invites her, with a wave of a hand, to watch the sunset with them. "'Sargent' is fine," she mutters as she stands next to him. He flashes a smile. She hadn't meant for him to hear the comment, but after the day she's had, Elo can't bring herself to care. "It is a beautiful sight," King Storri says. "Yes," Elo replies, and it is. She can think of no fairer sight than her city; at any hour or in any weather, she loves the sight of it. The sun has dipped lower now, the sky turning from amethyst to navy. Along the canals, the bargemens' lights twinkle merrily along their darkling paths. The Exchequer clears his throat. "If you'll excuse me, your Majesty, I fear I have more work to do, ere our meetings tomorrow." "Of course," King Storri says with a dip of his head. With a mumbled, "Good night." the sallow man hurries away. Clayrmantle grumbles something to himself, then, "Alas, I should also depart. Early birds and worms, et cetera. Good night, your Majesty. Oh, your Majesty? Don't forget about tomorrow night." "Mm. God nat, Magister." "Elowyn, dear?" Clayrmantle says as he steps away. Elo pulls her gaze away from where the stars now glitter across the firmament. "Yes, Thazar?" "Kindly ensure the king is abed before midnight?" "I'll do my best, sir." With a fatherly smile, Clayrmantle nods and departs.

King Storri is deep in his thoughts, so Elo lets them gaze over the city for a few moments longer before calling him back. "Your Majesty?" He sucks in a breath, as though he has been very far away. "Dinner, sir." "Yes, Sargent."

Elo leads him out to the now deserted corridors of City Hall. "What's happening tomorrow night, sir?" "May we speak on it over dinner? I find I am quite exhausted and would prefer to broach the subject with a full stomach," King Storri says. "Of course, sir. Where would you like to dine? There are several Michelin-starred restaurants in the city, that your Majesty may find pleasing–" "Stop." Elo stops walking, looking at the King with eyebrows raised. "I find myself wanting a quiet evening. Where would you recommend?" "Um. I'm told chefs at the Emerald Star are excellent, if your Majesty wants to dine in your suite…?" "No. I wish to know where you would recommend," he says, pointing at Elo. "Sir, I'm very sorry, but I'm afraid I can't help," Elo says. "A copper's salary doesn't lend itself well to eating out. The rare times I eat out, it's at one of two pubs. Neither of which, I should add, are remotely appropriate places to take someone of your station." King Storri lifts his chin. "Tell me what they are called." Elo tilts her head incredulously. "Sir–" "Tell. Me." Elo keeps her glare up for a touch longer than is necessary, but the King does not blink, so she relents. "The Slippery Slope, and the Skiving Scholar." It comes out muttered. "Which is the cleanest?" "I really think your Majesty should reconsider. I'm told the fowl at Bourdain's is exquisite, and Passport Plates, though the name is a bit kitschy–" "Of your pubs, which is the cleanest?" Elo closes her eyes and takes a breath. "The Scholar, your Majesty." "It sounds like a fine establishment. We shall go there."

With that, King Storri turns and begins to stride away. "Your Majesty… Excuse me– Sir!" Elo calls after him. The King stops. "How are we getting there – have you been given use of a chauffeur? Or are we packing everyone onto a public bus?" King Storri tilts his head. "I was informed you have your own transport." "I have a motorcycle that barely fits two. Again, not really appropriate for a King," Elo gesticulates wildly. "Not to mention insufficient for transporting your security detail." "Are you suggesting I will need them?" "Yes. The scholars can get remarkably rowdy." He quirks an eyebrow. "You are suggesting that the fabled Lady of Toreguarde will not be enough to assure my safety?" "Correct. The fabled Lady of Toreguarde got her title by working alongside your Chief of Security, Meredeth Gruksdottir. Who, incidentally, is going to kick me into next week if I let you swan off without your security detail." "You are suggesting we may find ourselves in such a dire situation, I would need them?" "Abso-fucking-lutly! Toreguard is dangerous. Maybe not as much as other places, but still. And even if we didn't, that's not the point! They are your security detail. It is their job, as well as mine, to keep you safe. I will not have you risking their livelihoods and reputations because you want to go rogue. At the very least, I have to inform Agent Ironforge of your whereabouts, or she will eviscerate me. "So you sit your royal ass down and don't you dare move until I've returned, you emmerdement. Am I understood?" And great, she's shouting at him again. It's been mere hours since she was told she'd used her one free pass. His face is a rictus of shock, and cue declarations of war in three, two– King Storri beams. "You are everything they said you were and more," he says, the grin turning smug and self-satisfied. Eloquently, Elo says, "Who? What? Huh?" "Agents Ironforge and Copperheart, and your Mother." "Aunt," Elo corrects on reflex because he is surely talking about Alexis rather than Oakrose. "Your Aunt then, Alexis," King Storri inclines his head. He turns away. "Come. We have much to speak of over dinner." Elo crosses her arms. "Sir, I think you're forgetting something." The King turns back, an eyebrow raised. "I will allow you, this once, to take a quiet meal without the furore of your security detail. But Agent Ironforge will have me drawn and quartered if I don't report your intentions and whereabouts. Please wait here while I do so." "Very well," King Storri says, still smiling as he settles himself into one of the many chairs dotted through the corridor.

[rep3llista]

Uncertainties and Confirmation | Bediguda

Sir Bedivere of the Round Table, the most chivalrous of them all, is currently Ritsuka’s favourite servant. Who can blame her? Especially after witnessing his determination to his King, which she secretly hopes he would do the same for her. He definitely would. But she wishes it was out of some kind of bias, not his unexclusive devotion.

Ritsuka’s little secret is every night; her mind would go to places she knew she shouldn’t, feeling his robust and veiny hands around her tiny waist, his sweet, deep voice, the precious emerald eyes, wishing he were hers.

Technically, he is hers. Her Servant, to be exact. She wouldn’t dare to cross the line. It’s not because she isn’t daring enough; she respects him too much and knows Bedivere has firm boundaries and principles. The last thing she wants to do is upset him.

It would instantly break her heart.

Speaking of breaking her heart, Ritsuka remembers when her heart first sank after being lightly scolded by him. His scolding was out of worry for his Master, but that day, her heart was softer than usual, and the slight change in his voice caused her to withdraw from him in the middle of a critical mission.

“Master, do not ever do that again. You are putting your life on the line! Let me do all the work—No, let me continue to protect you,” he firmly reminds her; his hands are holding hers, not letting her run away from this situation. Sir Bedivere is still a knight, and discipline is his way of showing that he cares. He wants Ritsuka to be responsible for her mistake. It is tough love.

Meanwhile, it is Ritsuka’s thing to be a bit headstrong and stubborn. Being the last Master of humanity forces her to be independent and strong. That is what she was until Bedivere came into her life. Bedivere’s ways will always find their way to break her hard shell. He only wants her to depend on him, but her circumstances don’t allow her to be one.

She is not privileged enough to be a damsel in distress.

She will never be the one for him. He hates her now.

She wants to run away, but his metal hand tightens its hold around hers as if it were hoping, no—believing she would eventually own up to her mistakes. He believes in her potential to grow. He always does.

“I am sorry, Bedivere,” she finally says out loud, her eyes desperately searching for his approval on his face. Then, it softens. And just like that, a heavy load is lifted from her back. She knows so well what that smile means. It means ‘I am proud of you.’

“Master…” he immediately pulls her into a warm embrace, rubbing her back in circular motions to ease her anxiety. During these short moments, Sir Bedivere’s boundaries are blurred. In the deepest crook of his heart, he hopes he is hugging the woman he loves. Not the woman he swore an oath to.

Could those two things overlap?

Maybe he is in love with her.

He quickly brushes his inappropriate thoughts away. Dreams should only stay in dreams. Now, he should focus on reality, where his precious Master looks like she could cry at any minute. He never want to see her cry.

“I don’t ever want to lose you, Master. You are so important to me, more important than my own life. So let me be your sword, depend on me, be selfish for me. Stay alive for me.”

His hug tightens like he doesn’t want to let her go.

“I cherish you. I truly do.”

In the midst of their shared uncertainties, they found solace and strength in each other's company, reaffirming their unbreakable bond.

[aajjks]

TC!JK

[you guys don’t have kids yet]

it’s no secret your relationship with jungkook is pretty complicated. four kids later, you guys seem to get along okay-ish. but it’s not as bad as it was before. back then you never wanted to be a foot near jungkook and you both slept in separate rooms. although jungkook was reluctant, your adamancy made him give in but you better believe a guard was always on duty to make sure you didn’t escape.

it was one week before the wedding and you were wondering if you should drink the poison miriam gave to you. if you drank it now, you could escape and be free of this miserable life but jungkook isn’t stupid. a trick like that wouldn’t work considering the last time you tried to escape, he figured out (rather quickly) that the dead body wasn’t yours. what good what it be to poison yourself if the plan doesn’t work?

or you could talk to him and you almost want to slap for even mentioning a conversation with that bastard. “what good would a conversation do?” you ask yourself out loud like someone would answer back.

maybe he’ll understand.

maybe he’ll change.

change? HIM?! no way, but it wouldn’t hurt to try, right? at the end of the day, all he wants is your love and affection. you can give him that even if it’s pretending for just a little while. you’re sure he isn’t going to let you go, you are marrying him afterall but maybe he’ll be a little kinder to you.

so you somehow find yourself exiting your bedroom and being met with the guard who was dosing off on the job. “excuse me?” you whisper. “can you take me the king? i’d like to speak with him” and the guard is a bit perplexed. you never concerned yourself with the king before but he doesn’t deny your request.

you the guard wander the halls before finding yourself staring at a mahogany door that is read to be jungkook’s private office/quarters. a place he often holds personal meetings and does his paperwork. with two knocks the guard announces your presence to the king before opening the door and closing it, leaving the both of you alone.

“your highness” you bow “i’ve come to speak with you about…us” you say nervously. although jungkook appreciates your formality towards him, he urges you to call him by his name. no formalities attached.

“u-uh, i’m not sure if i’m comfortable calling you by your name name sir. but um…i was wondering if” you sigh “i know you said my father killed your mother so instead of just keeping me here, why not kill me? i don’t want to be here and loving you back isn’t easy for me considering you’re always yelling at me and being mean to me. just get rid of me as revenge and love someone who will love you back”

“ what is wrong with you? You just came here to tell me that? Stop it yn if I wanted to kill you I could have, but I love you and I want to be with you. What your father did has nothing to do with you or me marrying you has nothing to do with my revenge. I took my revenge from him.. I want to be with you forever I fell in love with you at first sight… why would I want to kill you? this is really disappointing I- go back to your room and get ready we’re going to get married.”

[bdbdhdjdhdh]

My Hero PSLE: S2E7 "Clearly you haven't learnt your lesson"

"Is no one going to talk about how number 3 nailed the vocal intonation?"

-Random guy on the internet

This time we'll take a short break of one episode from the main gang and focus on the villains instead (I wanted to give them a bit more backstory)

"Well, sir, Ma Xiao Tiao is here, and he wants to have your palace toilet to *clears throat* AHEM. He, quote unquote, wants a quite place with Ou Yang Tian Tian to do something not so cultured,"

Oh that must be Rainslasher talking. As the name suggests, he slashes rain. Not sure what kind of god he is tho. He's on the head of the Board of Directors that serve Kain, which actually is only him on the Board of Directors but ok.

"Ok ok, just let him have it," Then obviously everyone already knows Kain. He always speaks through that annoying gritted teeth thing, bruh, it makes him sound like some uncultered gorilla.

Oh wait maybe he is one

"And he also wants your palace chamber bedroom,"

"Ok lah ok lah, let him have it lah,"

"And he also wants your entire fucking palace,"

"THE HELL DOES HE NEED AN ENTIRE FUCKING PALACE FOR? TO FUCK? Oh wait yah hor, ok ok anyway just give it to him lah,"

"Wa lao sir, why you let him have anything he wants?"

"Because we can't afford to offend the god of all gigachads,"

Yeah bro. The god of all gigachads will chad you out if you offend him.

Also I must say that it's worth noting that of Kain's entire army, everyone except him, Rainslasher and Ma Xiao Tiao are robots.

Which basically means that the "evil gods" Xiao Ming and gang have to fight... are literally only 3 gods.

But like they're all really strong gods, we all know Kain is the god of all gods, Ma Xiao Tiao is the god of all gigachads, and Rainslasher is said to hail from another world where everyone is powerful there, but like people see him as the powerful among the powerful.

So why is he working for Kain tho? Like he has his own nation to return to.

Simple-he doesn't. Rumour has it that his nation was destroyed and is ruled over by a tyrant king now, and his only hope lies in Kain being able to rule this world at the very least.

Also should I mention what he needs to attain unlimited power? The soul and life force of The Amulet of the Shadow Alicorn.

"Bruh! I haven't had to be this accommodating ever since Izanagi abandoned us,"

"Just bear with it lah, Sir, if not he will kill us,"

"True, also have you already made final preparations to.. receive our "guests"?"

"Yeah duh, sir, I also need to say that... the bloodseers reported to me about your corruption... Sir you k or not?"

"Simi dai ji? You program the bloodseers (the robots that serve Kain) to check for my corruption? And then you use that information to attempt to strike a conversation? Wah, I'm beginning to question your sexuality here, sia,"

And then you know what Rainslasher did? He fucking reached over TO HUG KAIN.

Yeah that man has every right to question his sexuality right now.

"Ok ok I'm fine you know, I've been enduring this shit for hundreds upon thousands of years now, mei shi de lah!(没事的 lah!) Please... get off from me,"

"Oh yeah, ok, sorry sir, I'm a bit drunk right now," And he immediately got off from him.

Yeah yeah yeah the classic "I was drunk" shit whenever a character accidentally confesses their deepest darkest sins to another character.

"You sure you're ok sir?"

"Yeah yeah yeah, WHY THE HELL DO YOU EVEN CARE ANYWAY,"

[bitsandbobsofwriting]

5 times Merlin does something that requires a considerable amount of strength;

+1 time the gang has time to actually bring it up.

Everyone is baffled, half distracted by Merlin’s surprising buffness and half amused by Arthur’s gay panic:

1)

The clearing fills with the sounds of a brutal fight. 

The Knights of Camelot, along with their King, had given up on trying to figure out how bandits always managed to find them in the woods. It seemed impossible for there to be so many mercenary groups that it was just coincidence for them to stumble upon each other so often, but equally, the knights moved quietly and always covered their tracks well, so... yeah, who knows.

The point is, they’re outnumbered three to one, and all of them were starting to regret not listening to Merlin’s earlier suggestion that they keep riding for another hour or so; their camp was destroyed and the fight was tiring them out.

Three to one weren’t bad odds, especially for knights with such a high level of skill, but it was exhausting and time consuming and they just wanted it to be over. Merlin was having similar thoughts as he stumbles through the middle of the crowd, trying to get out of the way. He was keeping an eye on them of course, but his friends were winning so his magical intervention wasn’t really needed; he was just annoyed that Arthur was almost certainly going to make him clear everything up afterwards.

His attention is suddenly caught when Percival’s voice rings out across the clearing:

“Merlin! Behind you!”

All of the knights’ gazes whip to the servant when they hear the giant’s yell, and they all abandon their own battles to step towards him despite knowing that they were too far away to be able to help in time. The servant takes in a sharp breath at Percival’s warning, becoming suddenly aware of a fast-moving presence behind him; he forms a fist and turns, swinging blindly with all his strength and following through even when his knuckles crunch with surprising accuracy against the temple of a bandit.

The man, not expecting the rapid attack, doesn’t have time to move out of the way, and his head jerks to the side, his entire body following as if an afterthought. He crumples to the floor gracelessly, unconscious before his head makes contact with the trampled undergrowth.

Merlin hisses at the pain bursting through his knuckles and up into his wrist, shaking his hand out as he steps over the bandit’s still form without even blinking, back to focusing on attempting to find a tree to sit behind and sulk, as if nothing had happened.

The knights only have a fraction of a second to freeze in shock before they’re dragged back to their own fights, forced to defend themselves lest they get skewered. 

The battle only lasts a few more minutes; despite being outnumbered, the knights far outmatch the bandits in skill (and sufficient armour) and Merlin was correct in his assumption that they wouldn’t need any of his DIY luck, which is a good thing really, considering how much his hand is throbbing. He peeks his head around the tree when things go suspiciously quiet, getting up and making his way to the abandoned bag of medical supplies when he sees the knights victorious.

The servant runs a quick gaze over them, taking stock of any potential injuries as he makes his way through the clearing, injured hand clenched tightly and held to his chest. He may have knocked the bandit out, but that just meant that the punch was hard enough to do damage to his hand as well as the other guy’s head. When he finds nothing more than the odd bruise on the others, he grabs a roll of bandages for himself, quickly wrapping his hand almost painfully tight, before turning to Arthur with a scowl:

“I told you we were too close to the road, I told you we should’ve kept on going. But do you ever listen to me? No, because you’re-”

He’s cut off by The King stepping towards him and taking his bandaged hand, cradling it gently and looking to Merlin in concern:

“Merlin, are you alright?”

Merlin just rolls his eyes and huffs, snatching his hand back and retreating to check on the horses, thankfully tied and uninjured at the edge of the clearing:

“No, my hand fucking hurts, because, surprisingly enough, these idiots have skulls almost as thick as yours. We need to move camps, like I said earlier. Prat.”

Arthur frowns, looking down to Merlin’s unconscious bandit at his feet, and then glancing back to the other knights, who all just shrug with wide eyes. The King sighs, reluctantly nodding at Merlin’s assertion as he stares up at the darkening sky, deciding that Merlin must’ve... hit a pressure point or... something:

“Everyone pack up, I want to be moving on in three minutes.”

2)

Merlin had foregone his jacket and rolled his sleeves up in the surprising Spring heatwave.

Which was a sight in itself.

But what really made the knights look twice (I mean... Arthur was just outright staring, but Leon had long since glared the others into not mentioning The King’s little... crush) was the way the supposedly wimpy servant had two sets of chainmail folded on one shoulder, his arm curled over them to keep them balanced, and a few odd bits of mismatched armour clutched in his other hand. He was making his way from the training field up to the castle, presumably to find an empty room to sit quietly and clean them.

Elyan waves at him across the field, the movement just about catching the servant’s gaze as he twists around, flashing a bright, sunny grin in place of waving back. 

Arthur gulps, eyes drawn to the vein standing out from Merlin’s uncovered neck; apparently the heat had encouraged him to abandon his neckerchief as well. The King takes a deep breath, sending a scowl Merlin’s way to cover his... surprise, holding in a smirk when the servant just rolls his eyes and turns back to the castle.

His stride was strong, and though his arms were straining against the weight, he looked entirely unbothered, not even breathing deeply as he picks up his pace, jogging up the citadel steps.

Training had all but stopped at this point, the roundtable knights staring in confusion as Merlin carefully pulled the door open, making sure he wouldn’t drop anything, before nudging the door shut again with his hip. Gwaine was the first to break the silence, quirking one of his eyebrows up as he speaks in a slightly surprised tone:

“Didn’t know he had it in him. Wearing one set, when the weight is evenly distributed, is hard enough, let alone carrying two sets. And armour. Up steps. Huh.”

Arthur clears his throat, looking away with a slight blush as he asserts:

“Yes, well, knights carry the same weight in armour and weapons everyday, if not more. If you’re that impressed Sir Gwaine, perhaps you should work on your strength.”

Gwaine turns to him with a smirk, but Leon’s warning glare stops him from teasing, or saying anything else that could be considered treasonous. Instead, he rolls his eyes at the first knight before humming non-committedly and pointing his sword at The King:

“That, Princess, sounds like a challenge.”

Arthur, blush forgotten, looks up with raised eyebrows and a chuckle, noting with satisfaction the way the other knights spread out to form a circle around the two of them, swords lowered and expectant looks on their faces:

“Does it now? I suppose you’ll have to take me up on it then, won’t you?”

3)

The knights were on some stupid (in Merlin’s opinion) quest.

The group was currently making their way through a complicated cave system. They had maps, thankfully, but they were old, and provided by a small village of locals who hadn’t spoken common very well. 

They’d had to trade away half of their supplies in return for the maps, so Arthur was already in a foul mood, but a dotted line on the page across the path they were following was worrying him. The note written next to it was in some old, almost lost native language, so The King had just resigned himself to carrying on and hoping for the best.

Which is why he let out a series of echoing curse words when they turned a corner to find a ragged overhang, about eight feet above the path. The wall curved in on itself before jutting out again at the top, making it impossible to climb, even without armour and swords and packs.

Elyan is the first to break the tense silence after Arthur’s outburst, his tone half amused, half annoyed, as he mutters:

“That’ll be why the locals kept pointing at that ladder then.”

Arthur huffs, glaring at the knight with a rare venom, but Leon gestures to the map in his hand before he can retort:

“We can always go back, or is there another way around?”

Arthur huffs louder, letting out a short growl as he thrusts the maps to Leon’s chest and paces closer to the overhang:

“Feel free, if you can find an alternative route, please, enlighten me. The village is a day’s journey away, we don’t have time to go back.”

Leon covers his annoyance at Arthur’s harshness well, but Merlin scowls at The King openly before moving to stand at the junction between the wall of the corridor, and the overhang in front of them:

“Don’t be an arse, Arthur, it’s not Leon’s fault that none of us can understand Old... whatever it was. And it’s not that high, just-”

With that, Merlin braces his foot against the wall, bending his knees slightly before pushing off and jumping up, reaching out and grabbing the overhang, his feet dangling off the ground. The knights stare in shock, but before they can say anything, Merlin swings his feet forwards, and backwards, and forwards again. When they swing back for the second time, he uses the momentum to pull himself up, his arms locking out straight beneath him as he lifts his knees up, crawling over the edge and onto the floor above them.

Arthur blinks, looking from the floor, to the wall, and up to Merlin again, trying to figure out how the hell his manservant had enough strength in his arms and core to pull himself up; he hadn’t even taken his pack off.

Lancelot clears his throat, tilting his head and frowning as he slowly speaks:

“That was... impressive. But we’re wearing armour, Merlin, I don’t think we’ll be able to manage that with all the extra weight.”

No one mentions that they don’t think they could do it even without armour.

Merlin just rolls his eyes and sits on the edge, his feet dangling below him as he gestures vaguely:

“Well if you just get your hands on the ledge then I can pull you up. Take your packs off and throw them up first if you’re so worried, you can give each other a hand up, and Percival can go last because of how tall he is. Come on, it wasn’t that hard.”

Lancelot shrugs, taking his pack off and throwing it up with all his might. Merlin leans out, catching it with ease and chucking it behind him as he motions Percival to interlock his hands. The knight does so, allowing Lancelot to step on them and throw himself up, just about managing to catch the ledge and groaning at the strain in his arms. Merlin brings his feet back over the overhang, bracing his heels against the stone as he reaches down, gripping Lancelot’s wrists and hauling him up and over the edge.

Lance yelps as Merlin yanks him up, rolling onto his back and panting at the ceiling as he blinks in surprise. Merlin doesn’t pay him any attention, frowning down at the others and gesturing at them to hurry:

“Come on, I thought we were in a rush?”

With that, they all huddle below, taking turns to be thrown up and hauled over the edge. Merlin drags Elyan up on his own, Lance still recovering from his slight shock, but the more people gather at the top, the less work Merlin has to do. Which is good, because he may be strong, but he’s not sure he could manage Percival on his own. The giant has to take a running leap at the ledge, and it takes four of them to pull him up without dislocating any shoulders or throwing out any backs.

When they’re all successfully at the top, Merlin wordlessly picks his pack up, shrugging it onto his shoulders as he begins a quick pace along the corridor as if he hadn’t a care in the world; the knights break out of their stupors and jog to catch up, knowing that Merlin was right and they needed to hurry.

4)

Arthur was glaring resolutely at the floor, trying to psych himself up to confront whatever arsehole had managed to get the drop on him and his six best knights. The others were arguing in whispers around him, trying to figure out some way to escape the dungeon unscathed, though The King kept silent, knowing that the only way out was if someone unlocked these infernal chains first.

They’d only been there for around an hour, so no one from Camelot would have realised they were missing yet; their only hope was that Merlin was making his way back to the city to get help. He’d been off gathering firewood, and he’d already been gone half a candle mark when they’d been ambushed; Arthur would never admit it, but he had faith that Merlin would be able to sort everything out.

The King harshly shushes the knights as he hears the guards begin to yell, but frowns in confusion when he hears “They’re going crazy up there!” and “What the fuck?!” before the unmistakable sound of armoured boots running up the stairs and away from the dungeons reaches them.

The knights all look to each other in confusion, straining against their chains to try and see through the small barred window at the top of the door. A shadow passes through the square of light on the floor, and they all shuffle back against the wall, staying silent. None of them manage to hold in their surprised yelps however, when the door suddenly bursts in, the wood around the lock splintering violently and spreading shards across the dungeon floor.

A strong arm extends out, stopping the now broken beyond repair door from swinging shut again, and the knights look up, taking in sharp gasps when they see Merlin stood there, scowling disapprovingly with a ring of keys in his other hand and one foot in front of the other, as if he had... as if he had kicked the door. Leon is the first to break the silence:

“Merlin?? What are you doing here?”

Merlin’s scowl deepens as he glances down the corridor before stepping into the dungeon, sorting through the keys to try and figure out which one would open which set of chains:

“Well I’m rescuing you lot, obviously. I leave camp for barely a candle-mark and you get yourselves kidnapped. Honestly, how hard is it to not find trouble, for once?”

Arthur is too busy staring at Merlin’s apparently muscled legs to say anything, even when Elyan clears his throat and kicks him, so Percival is the next to speak as Merlin unlocks his chains:

“Why not just... unlock the door?”

Merlin doesn’t look at the largest of the knights as he moves on to the others, unchaining them one by one as he responds, his scowl still firmly in place:

“The key was on a separate ring and I only had time to grab one, figured the door would be easier to break than the chains.”

Arthur finally blinks and shakes his head free of.... distracting, thoughts as Merlin finally turns to him, holding his hands out to be unchained as he clears his throat and says strongly, forcing the waiver from his voice:

“How did you distract the guards?”

Merlin finally smiles at that, standing and reaching into his pocket to pull out a lumpy looking bit of plant:

“Snuck in and pretended to be one of their slaves, laced all the jugs with mandrake root. They’re all going loopy with hallucinations upstairs, a few of them vomited and I think one guy might have shit himself. The guards went to see what was wrong, so we don’t have much time, come on.”

Arthur nods impressed, and was the last of the group to sneak from the dungeon, pausing briefly to run a hand over the splintered wood and warped metal of the kicked-in door, before shaking his head and following the others out of the not-quite-abandoned fort.

5)

It had been almost a year since Merlin had last seen his mother, so when the servant requested two weeks off to visit home, wanting to help the village out with repairs before the winter set in, Arthur agreed immediately, on the condition that he and a couple of the knights could tag along.

Merlin reluctantly gave in, but only after insisting that he wouldn’t be Arthur’s servant, and whoever came would have to dig in and help out. To be honest, Arthur was mentally exhausted after months of work on repealing the magic ban, so Merlin was silently grateful that he was coming; The King needed a break, and Merlin knew how secretly fond the man was of Merlin’s mother, and her simple country life. 

In the end, Leon and Mordred were the only ones who could come; Lancelot and Elyan were left in charge of patrols, Percival and Gwaine were left in charge of training, and Guinevere, Gaius, and Morgana were left to oversee the council and the general running of the Kingdom. Arthur wasn’t worried to be honest, they were only going to be gone for two weeks, and if disaster set in they were only a two day’s ride away at most.

It was chilly, the winter was setting in early so Merlin and Hunith were eager for work to start as soon as possible. There were numerous leaks and fences to fix, and one of the village’s barns needed clearing out so it could filled with grain over the snowy season.

That, and as much firewood needed to be collected as possible so they could stockpile. They normally barely had enough to last them through the winter; Arthur had nodded in approval when Merlin had meekly asked if they could take a cart of wood with them from Camelot, but they still had a lot to gather.

It was the afternoon of their first day, Leon had been sent to a neighbour’s to fix a roof, Merlin was doing something outside, and Mordred was just about to head over to one of the livestock pastures to strengthen a few of the fences. Hunith was preparing the evening’s meal and Arthur stood politely in the doorway as he spoke:

“Merlin said that firewood had to be gathered? I can get started on that if you can point me in the right direction.”

Hunith smiles over her shoulder briefly, and Arthur ignores the warm fuzziness in his stomach at the sight as she speaks:

“Oh don’t worry about that, we’ve only one axe in the village and Merlin is out by the barn chopping wood now. I know there’s a leak somewhere in the basement of the village hall, a few of the boys are already down there if you’re looking for something to do?”

Arthur raises his eyebrow at Hunith’s insistence that Merlin, his lanky manservant, was outside with an axe chopping wood, and he glances at Mordred over his shoulder, who just shrugs, nodding to Hunith’s turned back. The King responds quietly, trying to keep the amusement out of his voice:

“Hmm. I’ll go check in with Merlin and then head down to the hall, if he doesn’t need help.”

Hunith hums in agreement, but otherwise doesn’t reply, mumbling under her breath about herbs and measurements as she stirs something into the pot. Arthur smirks at Mordred and the two of them head out, neither mentioning how Mordred was following Arthur to find Merlin instead of getting to the fences.

They walk in silence, though they both freeze on the spot when they turn a corner to see Merlin, once again with his sleeves rolled up, hefting around a huge lump of wood, a ginormous axe resting on his shoulder. He gets the wood where he wants it, stepping back and wiping his forearm across his sweaty forehead before lifting the axe and swinging it down again. The stump splits easily beneath the sharpened metal, and Merlin wastes no time in repositioning the new pieces of wood, ready to be chopped again.

Arthur doesn’t even realise his mouth is hanging open until Mordred looks at him and smirks, biting his lip before giving in and snorting quietly:

“You’re the colour of our capes, Sire, and you might want to shut your mouth. Don’t want to catch flies, do you?”

Arthur’s jaw snaps shut with a clack, and he frowns as his teeth begin to ache. Mordred chuckles slightly and though Arthur is grateful that the young knight is finally comfortable enough to joke around with him, he desperately wishes he wasn’t at Gwaine’s level of comfort.

Instead of retorting, Arthur just clears his throat and turns around, striding towards the village hall:

“It appears he’s got things handled. Those fences won’t fix themselves, Sir Mordred.”

Mordred only just manages to hold in his giggle, looking up to see Merlin staring confusedly at him and Arthur’s rapidly retreating back. He waves briefly, sending a quick “I’ll tell you later.” over their mental link before turning himself and heading in the direction of the pastures.

He knows full well that he has no intention of telling Merlin about Arthur’s crush; watching them tiptoe around each other was the funniest thing ever, and he didn’t want to ruin the bet that Gwaine had going.

+1)

The fight was vicious, more so than any of the skirmishes the knights had dealt with in the last several months.

They were vastly outnumbered, and the addition of four powerful sorcerers to the enemy ranks meant that Merlin and Mordred were quickly running out of energy, having to focus on both the magical aspect of the fight, and trying to keep everyone else alive.

The metallic scent of blood was almost overwhelming, and the constant clang of metal on metal mixed with the whooshing echoes of sorcerous fire and vines was deafening. The fight went on a lot longer than Merlin had thought it would; the enemy was clearly more skilled than predicted, but the Camelot knights did prevail eventually, Percival ending the fight with the smooth slice of his blade across the last mercenary’s throat.

Merlin wastes no time in running his gaze over the knights, giving special attention to Arthur as he searches for any injuries that need seeing to immediately. The last of the sorcerers had managed to escape, so they needed to get out of there as soon as possible: there’s no way they’d survive a second attack if he came back with reinforcements.

Merlin was relieved to see nothing too serious; Lancelot had a gash on his temple that would need a thorough cleaning and a few stitches, and Gwaine was holding his wrist to his chest in a way that told Merlin it was likely broken, but everyone was on their feet and no one was crying. That’s a good start.

Merlin relaxes, but his shoulders quickly tense again as Mordred’s voice echoes weakly through his head:

“Emrys... I’m... I’m tired...”

Merlin whips around quickly, his eyes wide and panicked as his frantic gaze lands on the young knight. He’s leaning against a tree, his eyes hooded and focused on the floor. Merlin leaps towards him, catching him just before his head lands harshly on a boulder, and pulling the collapsed younger man into a more comfortable position as Arthur rushes over:

“What’s wrong with him? I don’t see any blood, was he hit with magic?”

Merlin waves him off, checking Mordred’s pulse and breathing before he relaxes again, sending a tired, but relieved smile up to The King:

“He’s fine, just exhausted. This is the first time he’s used this much magic in years, he’ll need a little while to recover his strength, but we need to get out of here in case they come back.”

Arthur lets out a relieved sigh and nods, leaning down to take one of Mordred’s arms and waving Gwaine over to pick his legs up, but before either of them get even close, Merlin stands up, dragging Mordred with him and settling the armoured knight across his shoulders. He looks to Arthur next to him, not seeming to notice The King’s shock as he quickly says:

“I know you’re The King and all, but would you mind carrying my bag?”

Arthur nods dumbly, picking up Merlin’s dropped medical bag without taking his gaze off the Warlock, who wanders around double checking that the other knights were ok and that all the bandits were dead as if he didn’t have about 240 pounds of man and armour dangling from his shoulders.

Leon catches Arthur’s eye, nodding pointedly towards the path they needed to take, trying to pull Arthur back into the present before the others notice him gawping. Arthur gulps, blushing as he nods his thanks and moves away from the battlefield, Merlin’s bag secured on his shoulders as he confidently speaks:

“Merlin’s right, we need to get as far away from here as we can. I saw a cave about two hours’ back North, we can make camp there before heading back to Camelot in the morning. Gather as much as you can carry, we’ve no hope of finding the horses before nightfall, hopefully they can make their own way home.”

The knights all nod, following Arthur’s lead as he steps carefully through the underbrush, trying not leave any obvious pointers to their direction. He keeps his gaze resolutely ahead as he hears Percival ask:

“You alright, Merlin? Sure you don’t want a hand?”

Despite keeping his gaze stubbornly forward, Arthur strains his ears to hear Merlin’s response, refusing to acknowledge the sudden weakness in his knees at what the Warlock replies with:

“Nah, it’s fine, he’s not that heavy.”

Leon subtly sidles up to walk next to The King, glancing behind him before leaning in close, talking quietly as they moved:

“Perhaps you should... let him know of you affections, Sire?”

Arthur’s blushing gaze quickly finds the older knight’s before he looks away again:

“I don’t know what you think you’re implying, Sir Leon.”

Leon just raises his eyebrow in an unusual display of amused defiance:

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of, Arthur. He’s been by your side for ten years, you’ve been through the unspeakable, both with each other and for each other. That, and he has a surprisingly... admirable physique.-”

Arthur’s blush deepens and he clears his throat, crossing his arms petulantly and staring resolutely ahead. Leon puts a hand on The young King’s shoulder as he continues:

“-You’re...-”

The knight sighs and bites his lip again, debating with himself over whether he should say it or not:

“-you’re head over heels for him, Sire, perhaps it’s time to do something about it? Gods know he feels the same, and the Gods also know that he’ll never make the first move. He’s still... nervous, about messing things up, I think. His-”

Leon glances over his shoulder again to make sure no one could hear him before dropping his voice to a whisper:

“-his magic being outed put him... on edge, even after all these months. He won’t do anything that he think could push you away or anger you.”

Arthur sighs and nods, before turning to him slowly with an embarrassed scowl on his face; he doesn’t shrug off Leon’s hand, which the knight takes as a good sign:

“Not a word to anyone, Leon, I swear to the Gods.”

Leon holds his hand up and uses his other to wave a cross over his heart:

“I swear, Sire. Though I feel the need to tell you that... at least three of the other servants, and I do believe Lady Bronwyn and Sir Galahad, also have... uh... their eyes on him, as it were.”

Arthur’s scowl gets impossibly deeper as he huffs, muttering to himself:

“They do, do they? Well, we’ll see about that.”

Leon just smirks again and rolls his eyes fondly before falling back to walk with Elyan.

~

They finally make it back to the cave, though it took them even longer without horses. Merlin had requested they stop around a candle mark in so he could remove some of the heavier bits of Mordred’s armour, passing them off to the other knights, but he had once again rejected any offers of help, saying that he was slowly siphoning his own magic into Mordred so he would wake sooner. Apparently they needed to be touching for that to happen, and though Merlin had been teaching them, none of them had enough knowledge on magic to know whether that was true or not, but they did know that Merlin was incredibly protective of the young Druid, so they let it be.

A fire was lit quickly and supplies were laid out. A map had been saved, thankfully, so they could figure out roughly where they were and how long it would take them to get back home as Merlin quickly treated Lance’s gash and Gwaine’s wrist.

Mordred begins to stir just as Percival serves up food, groaning slightly and rubbing at his eyes before struggling to sit himself up. Merlin had rushed to his side as soon as he felt the Druid begin to wake, and helps prop him up against the cave wall, handing him a water-skin as he stares at him with concern. Mordred takes a long drink, nodding his thanks and clearing his throat before speaking, his voice gravelly and slow:

“This... this is the cave we passed a few hours ago...”

His voice trails off, and Arthur answers the question in his tone:

“Hmm. We had no horses, so we were never going to make it back to the city, but we couldn’t stay where we were.”

Mordred nods, yawning widely and rubbing his eyes again as he asks:

“How did you get me this far without horses?”

Arthur clenches his jaw, blushing slightly as he looks away, but thankfully Gwaine butts in, answering with a grin on his face before anyone notices The King’s flush:

“Merlin here is stronger than he looks. Carried you the whole way, didn’t use magic or anything.”

Mordred turns his incredulous gaze to Merlin and he just shrugs absentmindedly:

“You don’t weigh that much, it was fairly easy.”

Elyan laughs and shakes his head, joining in on the conversation quickly:

“Are you kidding me? I mean... sure, I could’ve carried him for maybe an hour, if I was at full strength and it was easy terrain. You carried him for three, only took his armour off in the second hour, down what could barely be classified as a path, in a barely tamed forest, after a pretty hefty fight. That’s... impressive.”

Merlin raises an eyebrow, looking around the room in bafflement as he realises that everyone is staring at him with varying levels of impressed confusion:

“You guys... you guys know that I grew up in the country, right? I spent my childhood climbing trees and running away from predators, and my teenage years chopping wood, building things with barely any help, and fighting the odd bear. I then arrive in Camelot, only to immediately be given a job that involves carrying a shit ton of heavy stuff, including, but not limited to: armour, luggage, hunting equipment, and the occasional unconscious idiot.”

Arthur sits up straight and scowls slightly when Merlin gestures to him instead of Mordred:

“You have never had to carry me anywhere.”

Merlin raises an eyebrow, gaze sinking to the floor as he smirks and coughs out something that sounds suspiciously like “Sophia”.

Arthur’s blush deepens and he jabs an accusing finger in Merlin’s direction:

“That. Didn’t. Happen.”

Merlin bites his lip to stop himself from laughing, but his dimples still show through despite his best effort and he holds his hands up in surrender:

“Whatever you say, Sire.”

Arthur just clenches his jaw and sits back against the wall with eyes focused on his food and cheeks red, stubbornly ignoring the knights’ curious stares as everyone eats their food. Merlin fusses over Mordred for a few more minutes but is quickly waved away by the younger man; the Warlock huffs and rolls his eyes, but gives in to the fact that Mordred did not need, nor want, to be babied. He moves subtly around the cave to sit down next to Arthur, barely a foot of air between them despite the abundance of space elsewhere.

Arthur forces his blush down at Merlin’s proximity, refusing to think of anything but his food and the difficult journey home, desperately keeping his gaze on his meal instead of Merlin’s strong legs stretched out next to him.

The King doesn’t acknowledge him, but doesn’t move away either, which Merlin takes as a good sign as he settles in, wrapping himself in a blanket to protect his body from the impending cold.

The other knights have long since finished their meals, scarping the lot in a matter of seconds in an attempt to gain back a little energy after the hours of riding and fighting and walking; they quickly settle into the blankets and cloaks and bedrolls they had managed to carry, though Leon seems to deliberately move slower, waiting for Arthur to glance up at him so he can give a pointed look to Merlin, just finishing his food, before laying down and attempting to sleep.

Arthur blushes with wide eyes, but Leon turns around before he has time to glare at him, and The King huffs quietly, risking a glance to a shivering Merlin next to him. He quickly frowns, not moving his gaze away like he had intended to, instead whispering softly:

“Cold? Can’t you use magic to warm up?”

Merlin looks to him tiredly, leaning his head back against the wall as his eyelids droop slightly:

“Hmm. I gave most of my reserves to Mordred, he was worse off than I first thought so he needed a lot more magic than I realised to keep him alive long enough for his energy to build up again.-”

Arthur widens his eyes at the fact that he was so close to losing one of his knights, but then shakes his head, huffing as he glares at the Warlock disapprovingly, but Merlin closes his eyes and continues before he can get told off:

“-I’ll be fine by morning, I just need-”

He’s interrupted when his body is wracked by a particularly strong shiver:

“-I just need some sleep.”

Arthur rolls his eyes, shuffling into a more comfortable position before opening his arms, spreading his cloak wide as if they were a pair of majestic wings:

“Come here, you idiot. I can’t have you freezing to death because you refuse to look after yourself.”

In normal circumstance Merlin would’ve argued, but he really was cold, so when he cracks his eyes open to see Arthur ready and waiting, he doesn’t hesitate to crawl hurriedly over. Arthur ignores the flush rising on his cheeks as Merlin clambers over one of his legs, settling between them and shoving his head under the blonde’s chin; he wraps his cloak around the two of them and rubs his cheek into the Warlock’s soft hair. 

He can feel Merlin grin against his collarbone, and it’s enough to distract him from the surprising, but not unwelcome, weight of Merlin’s muscled form against his chest:

“You know, Arthur, if you wanted to feel up my muscles so badly you just had to ask. You stare far too often to think you’re subtle.”

Arthur’s flush deepens and his body goes rigid as Merlin giggles. He clenches his jaw and lands a punch, far softer than he would normally go for, on the other man’s shoulder, but that just makes him giggle harder, and Arthur has to hush him in fear of waking the others. Merlin looks up at him through thick eyelashes, blinking tiredly with a satisfied smile on his face:

“Just let me know if you ever want carrying around, I’m more than happy to help.”

Arthur gulps, refusing to make eye contact as he stares resolutely at the opposite wall and not acknowledging the red hue of his cheeks:

“When we get back to Camelot, I’m hanging you for treason.”

Merlin snorts quietly, re-burying his face in Arthur’s chest and curling up tightly in his lap to stave off the cold:

“Whatever you say, Sire.”

Arthur gives in, smiling slightly and rolling his eyes as he tightens his hold on the other man. He lets his cheek fall back to rest on his soft hair as he closes his eyes, allowing his exhaustion to take over and descending into an easy sleep.

~

THE END!!

We stan Arthur gay panicking and all the knights (bar Leon of course, who handles it as tactically as he’s able) ruthlessly taking the piss :D

I hope y’all enjoyed reading this, I certainly enjoyed writing it! Thank you anon, I loved writing this!!!

Same as always, someone wants to write it up in full, go for it!! Drop me a message and credit/tag me :)

[jameui]

MOVIE DATE

PAIRING: Hwang Hyunjin x Manager!M!Reader

GENRE: Angst, Fluff

WARNING: Hyunjin being a jerk

SUMMARY: You boyfriend, Hyunjin took you out on a date to watch your favorite movie.

You sighed in exhaustion and as if the world was trying to test you, a fast running bicycle came your way causing you to jump to the side, so fast that you forgot about the takeouts you had in your hands and at a blink of an eye the neatly boxed items fell to the ground, all the food now spilled on the floor with your eyes widening in fear. "Shit!" You yelled out and tried to get back to the restaurant again, but as soon as you got there the line was already long and it'd take you ages to get to the counter to order, again.

You were at your way to your work with your phone squeezed in between your shoulder and ear as you talked to your co-manager on the other line who seemed agitated for your tardiness, while you tried to balance the foods you were made to order. "Yes, sir. I'll make sure that won't happen again." You told the male before the call was cut short when he decided to hang up all of a sudden.

Looking around, you saw a chinese restaurant that had the smallest line, so you went there and bought the food there, even though the orders of the group was not exactly what they wanted for you to buy. You just couldn't go back empty handed.

After a few minutes of walking, you finally arrived at the venue of the fansign event and got there just in time before Stray Kids were called to the stage for their activity to be done, but the moment you got there you saw that the people present were already eating their food away. They noticed your presence entering the room whilst their head turned to look at you. "I... Good morning, everyone." You greeted them. 'Guess their manager got their food delivered.'

You didn't get a reply, except from the group who was more than happy to see that you had food on your hands. "Hyung! Thank God. I was starving." The group's youngest, Jeongin said as he helped you put the foods down on the table. "You're seriously a life saver."

You smiled at him giving him a muttered thanks that earned you a smile from Jeongin. Honestly speaking, Jeongin was the second best person you ever liked in the group, the first being Lee Felix since he was the only person to ever approach you on your first day since he was able to see how much you were so nervous. Felix was also one of the members who taught you korean, the other being Bang Chan. You had always knew the group back then, and now and you were damn thankful that you got the opportunity to be in their circle.

Knowing how young you were to be working for them, they treated you nicely, not because they needed to, rather cause it was in their nature to be caring. Well, at least except one person. You were the closest to Felix who treated you like his personal manager and a friend as well, going out on friendly dates with you to the park, dog cafés, just anywhere Felix would find interesting to visit.

Who's the person that seemed irritated whenever you were around you ask? Why, the one and only visual king, Hwang Hyunjin. He doesn't actually treat you bad, but the way his eyes would always turn dark or displeased when you show up in his line of sight made you feel so small and felt totally unwelcomed. That was then, apparently, since today the male looked a little too quiet and didn't even bother to look at you. Believe me or not that's actually the kindest thing he's done to you.

You would try to go to him to try and talk to him, worried by his silence. You just furrowed your brows and sighed completely aware that no matter how much you try to talk to him he won't even dare to acknowledge you being there for him.

"M/n, are you just gonna stand there? Come and eat." Chan told you, but you just politely declined his offer with the shake of your head before telling him that you had just taken your breakfast and that you were full, more and you feel like your stomach's gonna burst. "Hm, suit yourself, but I'll be leaving mine untouched, so you can eat it when you get hungry, yeah?"

"You're so kind, Chan." You gave him a smile that got Chan smiling also showing his deep dimples that you could just dive in it anytime soon.

"Hey, hey, hey! We've known each other the longest. Why do I still have to call you 'hyung' and M/n doesn't?" Jisung, one of the group's rapper, pouted with folded arms as Chan chuckled before ruffling the kid's hair that Jisung angrily shook off.

"Well, since he's not that spoiled, unlike you." Chan answered Jisung who gasped dramatically. "And he also gained my permission, so—"

"Whenever or not he's around, is he the only person that ever comes into your mind?" That all too familiar voice spoke out, all your heads turning towards the person. He scoffed and stood up with a smirk on his face, probably in disbelief that the whole group was talking to you and always thought about you. "I mean, come on. There's gotta be something else to talk about other than this... person." You felt his eyes look at you while your eyes stared at him with rising anger. "There's sports, other artists, songs, music, so many and you chose to pick him as the topic of your talk."

"Hyunjin, that is very disrespectful." Chan gritted out, but Hyunjin knew better than to listen or to even stop.

"I'm really not, hyung." Hyunjin's smirk grew wider eyeing you with a suspicious look on his eyes. An idea popped in his head as he opened his mouth to talk. "But, if you want to, I could show you how disrespectful I can get." Without any warning, he took the take-out container and bottled drink in his hand and gave you no second to react as he poured all of its contents onto your head with a loud gasp coming out of you. "There. I'll call it a masterpiece even."

"Hwang Hyunjin!" Bang Chan's voice boomed through the whole room a still smirking Hyunjin turning around to face the older male who was fuming with anger. "You—"

"Chan!" You called out to him before things got a little out of hand. For pete's sake their going to just fight because Hyunjin had made a mess of you? You were not even worth the fight. "No. I'm fine. I can just quickly change, that's all. I'll be right back and I better get no reports about you two fighting." You told the two, Chan rolling his eyes.

You got out of the room and ran as fast as you can to the nearest restroom, cleaning yourself as soon as you arrived. Times like this you would immediately bawl your eyes out, but with the constant behavior that Hyunjin showed to you, you grew used to it. Heck, you even sometimes feel that the other boys only act like they liked you being there and when you weren't, they'd stab you behind your back. "Goodness, why won't this get off."

"Need help?" A raspy voice came from the entrance of the restroom, turning your head around to see Felix leaning himself on the door frame with his arms crossed, then untangled them to let his hands rest inside his pockets and stepped inside as you smiled at him. "Do you need more tissue?"

You shook your head at him, your attention back on your stained favorite shirt wiping them clean with the tissues the place's restroom owned. "Nah, there's plenty here. Besides, I'm all dried up now." You said and showed yourself to him, Felix knitting his brows in worry.

He seeped air through his teeth and cocked his head to the side, unsure if you should be wearing that now dirty shirt when you'd be with them during the activity the whole time. "I don't think you should be wearing that."

"Why? It's my favorite sweater." You chuckled half-heartedly.

"Yeah, I know, M/n, but it's dirty. Plus, I think it gets pretty uncomfortable seeing that stain on your shirt and it gets sticky. Yeugh." Felix pretended to barf which got you laughing softly. Felix, though not trying to be funny, whatever he does it always seemed so funny to you.

"Fine, fine. I'll go change, the problem though is that I didn't bring an extra shirt with me today." You told Felix scratching your nape.

"Really? Well, I guess we have to borrow from one of the group's." Felix suggested, but your eyes grew sizes bigger upon hearing that and waved your hands.

"No way, Felix! I have already done enough damage, I can't afford to borrow a shirt from one of the members, or to you even." You told him, but it all fell on deaf ears as Felix refused to listen. "I'm just trouble, Felix. You don't have to worry about me."

Felix hummed with two fingers pinching his chin gently. "Yeah, I don't think so." He took your wrist and started to drag you back to the dressing room. "Come on, I know there's someone willing to let you borrow a shirt." You just sighed, knowing that Felix won't even dare to change his mind when he had already set them on something.

Alas, as you two got there, none of the members even had a spare shirt to let you borrow. They were very willing and even tried to look around if there was anything, but to no avail. Although, there was one last person you didn't ask. "Hyunjin. You were the cause of this mess, you let him borrow your shirt." Felix sternly told the older male who pilled his brows together.

"What?! No way! Are you telling me I'd offer to do something for that guy? No!" Hyunjin retorted making Felix growl.

Felix was so ready to throw punches at the male who didn't seem to be bothered by the situation, but you just put a hand on Felix's shoulder and assured him. "That's alright, Felix. My sweater was thick enough to not get my undershirt wet. Although, I'm grateful for your effort." You smiled at him and sighed.

Just in time, you heard a call from one of your co-manager that the group was already being requested to be at the stage right now. You gave them an encouraging smile as they all did the same. "Alright boys. It's time to go out there and meet millions of your fans."

The group all shouted, excluding Hyunjin, hurray and hurried out to get on stage, you following behind after you were able to discard your sweater, leaving you only on your black t-shirt. You shivered at the cold now that you were left with a thin clothing that wasn't appropriate for the type of weather you were having and not mention that the place was fully air-conditioned.

Your shaking was not too evident, but one of the members, Seungmin, was able to notice it. Feeling pity he made his way to Hyunjin and tried to convince him. "Jinnie, M/n's cold. Please lend him your jacket, at least. He'll get sick if he continues to get exposed to the cold."

"Better for him."

"Hyunjin, please... Besides, you're already wearing thick layers of clothes why not let M/n borrow." Seungmin reasoned out and solemnly knitted his brows to persuade the male, Hyunjin rolling his eyes at his bestfriend and huffed before taking his jacket off of him and handed it over to Seungmin who silently squeaked. "Thanks, Hyunjin." Hyunjin brushed it off with a 'whatever', the younger of the two jogging his way towards you and gave you the jacket he got from Hyunjin. "I noticed your shivering, so I want you to take this jacket and no, you can't say you can't accept it."

You nodded your head at him and took the jacket from his hands. "Thank you, Seungmin."

"My pleasure." He smiled at you with those puppy dog like smile. He skipped back to reunite with his group while you put on the jacket that Seungmin offered you. You were still in thought though how Seungmin was able to convince Hyunjin to let you borrow his jacket. You knew Hyunjin owned the jacket since he wouldn't let them go since the moment you arrived.

You noticed how the jacket was too big for you, since the sleeves of the piece of clothing only let your fingers peek out through the holes while the flaps reached further down your hips, but it totally felt cozy and smelled like... Hyunjin. How do you explain it? You don't even know where to begin. It was him. The reason why you wanted to work with Stray Kids. You didn't want to look like you were some type of stalker, but all you ever wanted was to befriend Hyunjin.

The befriending process didn't go the way you actually thought it would go. Everytime his eyes met yours or you heard his voice you'd get all flustered and so nervous that your tongue always gets tied, the words you want to tell him gets trapped inside your mouth. It all started to be just an admiration towards the slightly older male until your determination to become his friend gradually became an unknown feeling towards Hyunjin, until realizing later that you actually liked the group's rapper, despite all his bad treatment towards you.

Back to reality, you hugged yourself and took in the wonderful scent the artist gave off until one of your co-worker nudged you. "Hey, stop sniffing the clothes. You totally look like a sasaeng."

"W-what? I wasn't sniffing anything." You denied it earning an eye roll. Later, you heard the whole place bursted into shouts of joy and excitement as Stray Kids made their appearance on the stage greeting all their fans inside and outside of the place. They all took their turns taking the mic to express their happiness and gratefulness to their ocean of fans that filled up the whole place.

Soon, the group was seated at a long rectangular table that was a perfect fit letting all the members seat on their respective seats. There were chairs as well settled in front of the table with each settled across a specific member.

You were appointed to keep guard and stand behind Hyunjin, in any case of fans throwing shade at him or any forms of harm or hate towards the member who had just been caught up in a supposed bullying rumor.

The line started to form as people who were present inside the place took their turns to talk to each member and get a sign from them. So far, you could only wonder how paranoid the company was to keep you on guard of Hyunjin when all these people here are Stays and they wouldn't do such thing to throw hate to any members in the group. Right?

The line was still too long to be gone in just minutes making you sigh, hearing your tummy rumble hoping that no one heard that. You now finally regret not eating that noodles that Chan offered you, the hunger finally hitting your system as your tummy continued to grumble. You pursed your lips and forced your eyes closed while you brought your head down in embarrassment. 'Fuck... why now?'

After a short while, the line was starting to get shorter and shorter, you thanking the heavens for the fast passing by of the time. But, the moment you least expected to happen happened. You felt a harsh tap on your legs and another and another after it finally took your attention, getting a little shocked that the action was done by the person who hated you the worst. "Take it before I change my mind." He told you. You complied and bowed at him politely as he tuts his tongue. "Who would even think of going to work on an empty stomach?"

'You... poured it on me?' You thought then shrugging it off before you looked at the treat offered to you by Hyunjin. You wondered what type of bread it was and hesitated, although Hyunjin's back was facing you he was able to sense your hard time on trying to eat what he gave you.

"It's not poisoned, M/n." He whispered as he signed the album that had his photo on it, then looking up at the fan who would like to talk to him.

Their talk wasn't audible to you, but you opened the packaging of the nicely wrapped pastry and bit on it with your body facing the wall so your back was turned against the people to cover yourself while you ate. One of your co-manager did notice your unwanted behavior and stomped his way to you and took the baked good from your hands and threw it to the ground to step on it and crush it good. "What do you think you're doing, L/n?! You're being inappropriate right now." He gritted out to you with a small voice almost like a whisper so no one else would hear you two. You bowed your head subtly before a hand was placed right below your chin as you looked up at him confused. "Spit." He ordered, referring to the food you were chewing.

You nod your head and spit out the food that was in your mouth into his hand while he picked up the wasted food and left, then threw it all at a trash can. "Fuck." You sighed as you held your chest and slowly turned around to face the non-existent line, the group now interacting with their fans.

Just looking at them now, you were able to remember when you were the one who was there seated at the chairs shouting out the name of the person you would call as your bias, which is no other than Kim Seungmin. At least, when you still didn't take the job to be one of the group's manager. Usually, it would only take one manager to manage the group, but why did this group require another one? You questioned yourself. It was all unexplained to you, but all you gotta do was to just be glad that you get to be friends with the people you see as your role models.

"Hyunjin-ah! When did you start trading jackets with your manager?" The question came out as a shout that got everyone laughing, including the group. You were only able to chuckle knowing that it was Seungmin who convinced Hyunjin to let you borrow his jacket.

Hyunjin didn't get to answer the question, when another fan spoke from the crowd that got every fans' attention. "Are rumors true that you don't treat Manager L/n well?"

Chan furrowed his brows and picked up his microphone. "Where did you get this story?" He chuckled trying to make it sound that it wasn't true and just pure bluff. Chan looked at Hyunjin with the face that told Hyunjin that he should start treating you well if he didn't want the netizens to know about his treatment towards you. "Anyways, it's seriously not true."

-----------

A few minutes later and the event was finally finished and the group was bidding their goodbyes to their fans as they started to walk backstage. You waited for them at their waiting room with a handful of bottled waters for the boys to pick up once they get inside. The door soon opened revealing the group with a tense atmosphere following them that got you so confused. "Hey—"

"Hyunjin. If word gets out about your mistreatment to M/n, that would be a serious damage to our image and to M/n as well, 'cause he's obviously in pain because of you!" Chan yelled at the trouble causing male who only rolled his eyes paying no heed to his warning.

"Atleast, I never went too far as to really hurt him physically." Hyunjin deadpanned Chan growling at his response. Your eyes flickered to Hyunjin, then to Chan not knowing what to do in this situation.

"You are seriously being a jerk right now, Hyunjin." Chan fumed in anger while Hyunjin just continued to act deaf and played on his phone. Chan, giving up, sighed and plopped down on his seat. "Ayayay."

They took turns in getting your glances as you thought of a way to calm the atmosphere. You had already been their manager for a over a year now and this was the only time that Hyunjin ever spoke up to Chan and, to top it off, with sass and without the slightest feeling of being bothered. That was the moment you felt like you had enough. You've had enough with all these things. You were tired of yourself to even think that Hyunjin would finally soften up to you and be his friend. You were wrong to even apply for this kind of job. The group wouldn't be fighting if it hadn't been for you appearing in their lives all so suddenly. "Guys... let him do as he pleases. I'll be the one to take of whatever the netizens hear."

Chan raised his eyes up at you with furrowed brows. "What do you plan on doing? Whatever it is don't do it."

You smiled and nodded. "I won't, Chan." You held up the bottles in your hands and turned on a toothy smile. "Water? Anyone?" They all sighed in relief and got their turns in picking their own bottled water, the last one not being picked up by Hyunjin, so you decided to give it to him. You brought the cold drink to his face making him flinch as he looked up at you. "Thank you for the bread, by the way." You told him and giggled. "I've already packed your jacket in your bag." You informed him and patted his back.

The once crazily terrifying atmosphere now turned into a more comfortable one, the one you always would want to see. You didn't know what got you the courage to speak or blurt out whatever you had in your mind, but you looked at Hyunjin and said: "Hyunjin, can I talk to you privately?" Thankfully, their loud voices was able to distract themselves from hearing your request to Hyunjin who sighed and nodded his head. He stood up from his seat and started to move outside of the room. You followed behind closely, feeling intimidated by the month older's tall figure. "Hyunjin..."

"Cut to the chase, M/n. I don't have much time." He told you as you nod your head in understanding and fiddled with your fingers.

"I know, you'd probably like hearing this, but could I have the permission to quit as your group's manager?" You asked him, his forehead creasing that made him pull his brows together. "I was able to notice what the group had become the moment I became your manager—"

"And do you think quitting would change it?" Hyunjin asked you with a raised brow. "If anything, it'd probably—no, it would break their hearts to know that you quitted. If you do so, you're not only quitting as a manager, but as their friend as well."

"And you're able to say that after you purposely tried to have me fired or suspended from work by offering me that bread?" You sarcastically answered, Hyunjin clearing his throat.

"Well... that wasn't my intention. I didn't even know it'd get you fired." Hyunjin replied making you chuckle.

"Yeah..." You replied with a sad smile. "But, I don't wanna be the reason why you and Chan would always fight. Stray Kids is Stray Kids because they're fun and loving, caring. And I don't want to change that by being around the group." Hyunjin never replied anymore and you sighed. "I'm heading back now." You said and as you started to walk back inside, Hyunjin spoke.

"I wish you never entered our life, at all, M/n." He told you that got your heart broken into pieces. Sure, you admitted that he never liked you even just a bit, but him saying it so bluntly to you, it's like he does really mean it and could only care less. You were about to speak when Hyunjin beat you to it. "If so, I wouldn't be able to garner these undeniable feelings I have for you."

You froze. Were you hearing right? You just cleaned your ears this morning, well you do it everyday. Is your ear trying to play with you? "W-what?"

"DAMN! WHO WOULD'VE THOUGHT?!" You gasped with your mouth full of popcorn, your boyfriend, Hyunjin seated beside you at the movie theater. He smiled at you admiring how cute you looked with your shocked expression that was being illuminated by the big screen. "Jinnie! Look, they're gonna kiss! AH!!" As the two actors in the movie was about to kiss, one of the movie's cast bursted out of the door cutting the kiss and earned a few 'oh's and 'I hate you, Chan's. "Chan is such a cock blocker."

"Watch your mouth, babe." Hyunjin told you making you pout.

"It's true, though!" You retorted and Hyunjin could only laugh at your cuteness and honest opinions.

[emmg]

No but like this is so funny to me because can you imagine the goddamn interaction?

Alright, so let’s crank this cringe all the way up to 11.

So, picture this: it’s another miserable night at Sharess’ Caress, and the poor server—let’s call her Ella because it feels like she deserves a backstory—is just trying to get through her shift without a patron slapping her ass or asking her to "serve something a little stronger." She’s been on her feet for hours, her tray is loaded with whiskey, and there’s Raphael, lounging at his table like he owns the damn place. His shirt’s half unbuttoned (because of course it is), and he’s radiating that I’m a devil, and I know it vibe, which is equal parts seductive and nauseating.

Ella’s like, "Okay, okay, he’s terrifying, but he’s hot, and I’m working in a brothel, so let’s just roll with it. Maybe he’ll tip well." But little does she know—she’s about to experience the single most mortifying moment of her entire career.

She sets down the drink, does the polite server smile, hoping to slip away unscathed. But Raphael, in full-on cringetastic form, pulls out this absurdly large velvet pouch. You know, the kind that jingles so loudly it might as well be screaming LOOK AT ME, I HAVE MONEY AND ZERO SELF-AWARENESS. He doesn’t just hand it to her—no, he dumps the coins on the table. One thousand gold. Like this man just casually carries a king’s ransom around for his casual dining expenses.

He's basically a sugar daddy too lazy to count.

Ella’s standing there, completely stunned. "Is this real? Do I pick it up? Is this a bribe? Am I being bought right now?" And then the note appears.

Raphael, because he’s Raphael, slides this neatly folded piece of parchment across the table, like it’s a secret royal missive. You know he spent way too much time perfecting his handwriting, probably sitting in front of a candle, doing one of those dramatic quill dips in the ink, thinking, This is it. This is my moment.

Ella, poor thing, picks up the note, already suspicious. Because why would someone who just dropped 1,000 gold coins also leave a note? She opens it, and because she’s one of those unfortunate souls blessed with literacy in this medieval society, she reads the words no mortal—or immortal—woman should ever have to endure: “Beautiful nipples, princess.”

Her internal monologue? Full-on DEFCON 1. "Did this man just—what? Beautiful... nipples? Princess?! I WORK IN A BROTHEL. WHERE IS THE ROYALTY COMING FROM?"

But she has to keep it together because there’s 1,000 gold staring her in the face, and sometimes life just makes you endure the worst things for a ridiculous paycheck. So she gives him this tight-lipped, please-for-the-love-of-all-that’s-holy-let-this-end-now smile and stammers, “Uh... thank you, sir?”—because what the hell else is she supposed to say? Thank you for noticing my nipples?

And Raphael, because he’s the actual embodiment of cringe, leans back, gives her that sleazy devil grin like he’s Casanova reincarnated, and says, “Truly, you deserve it.”

Deserve... what exactly? The 1,000 gold? The awkward compliment? The soul-crushing embarrassment of being called princess while working at Sharess’ Caress, of all places? She doesn’t know, and frankly, she doesn’t want to know.

But Raphael isn’t done. Oh no. He winks. Again. And it’s the kind of wink that physically hurts to witness, the kind that makes your skin crawl and makes you wish you could erase the last five minutes of your life. And then—oh gods, brace yourself—he does the finger gun and finger wave combo. The ultimate creepy uncle move. Like, did this man attend the Academy of Being an Absolute Tool?

Ella’s entire soul leaves her body at this point. She’s mentally checked out, but the coins are still there, and she’s thinking, "I’m quitting tomorrow. I’m taking this money, buying a plot of land in the middle of nowhere, raising goats, and never speaking to another living being again. Because ain’t nobody recovering from a compliment about their nipples delivered in this context."

Meanwhile, Raphael’s sitting there, fully convinced that he just performed a grand act of chivalry. In his head, he’s probably like, "Ah yes, another woman dazzled by my generosity and wit. Truly, I am a paragon of charm." He’s probably already planning his next outing—next time, I’ll leave 2,000 gold and a note that says ‘Stunning ankles, your highness.’

And the best part? He’s completely oblivious to how deeply disturbing this whole interaction was. He’s sitting there, flicking a gold coin into the air for maximum dramatic flair, grinning like he just unlocked the secret to seduction. Meanwhile, Ella’s booking a one-way ticket to anywhere but here in her mind.

But wait, it gets worse. The other servers, they see this. They hear it. And you just know there’s a betting pool forming in the back. “So, how much do we think he tips next time? 5,000 gold for ‘stunning earlobes, duchess’?”

THIS IS LITERALLY HIM HIS CRINGEFAIL ASS PROBABLY DOES THIS EVERYDAY LIKE "THE MASTER"????

(raphael pic credit @ Nutellafuchs on X)

[eddiemunsonsupremecy]

Katsuki bakugo x fem! Reader

Royalty au

Notes: this is my first time writing a royalty au so bear with me. I hope you enjoy it!!

Word count: 2592

Genre: fluff

"Your majesty, we have another princess for you to meet."

"Again? This is the twelfth one this week!"

"I apologize your majesty but none of them have been to your liking and we have to find you a wife within three months."

"Mina tell her that I will speak with her tomorrow. It's late."

"Alright sir. Sleep well.

"Y/n, the prince is looking for a princess to marry!" Ochaco exclaimed happily.

"Ochaco hes looking for a princess not a village girl."

"Your too stubborn y/n."

"Yes I am but it doesnt matter anyways. We should get back." You said as you and ochaco headed back. Where were we going? We were going to the only place we thought of as home. A little cabin a few miles away from the kings palace.

"Izuku! We're back and we brought dinner!"

"Hey welcome back you guys!" Izuku said as he entered the livingroom with kaminari and kirishima.

"Hey you guys! What did you guys get?"

"We bagged a couple of rabbits and a few squirrels. There really isnt anything out here anymore." You said sighing softly.

"Well we'll get dinner set up while you two get a shower."

"Thanks eijiro, we appreciate it." Ochaco said as she drug you into a separate room.

"Y/n I know you dont want to but mabey this is our chance. Our chance to have a better life. A life more then the fighting and hunting to survive. You dont have to go now but just try, try for us."

"Ochaco..."

"Y/n, we need this, we need the little bit of hope that we could have a life better than this."

"Ochaco I don't think this is a good idea but I guess I'll try. Now let's get a shower."

"And what qualities do you have that you think are likeable?"

"Well I'm a great cook and I can do you laundry or anything you need done while your doing king stuff. And-"

"I'm going to stop you there. I'm not looking for someone to do everything for me. I'm looking for someone who will do good for this village and would be willing to put their life on the line for it. I'm sorry but you dont have the qualities I'm looking for. Please see my maid as you leave." I said as the princess became saddened and found mina. I sighed and decided to see my mom.

"Old hag, this isn't working. Every princess I've met has either been stuck up or willing to do everything for me."

"Dont speak to your mother that way katsuki."

"Katsuki, what do you think we should do?"

"You know that ball you were planning for a few weeks from now? Mabey we could have the ball tomorrow?"

"I think that's a lovely idea. Masuro will you have the maids make copies of the ball invitations and have them send them out tomorrow evening?"

"As you wish dear." Dad said as he left the room.

"You dont want to marry a princess do you?"

"No, all the ones I've met have either been stuck up or too obsessed with me. Would you be mad If i wanted to marry a commoner?"

"Well if you did it would be the first time in years that it has happened. I'm not against it so I wont prevent you from it." I sighed softly and nodded. "Why dont you go out and find some villagers to meet. I know a lot of them adore you." I nodded.

"Mina will you get our horses ready? I wish for you to accompany me."

"Of course your majesty." Mina said as she went to ready our horses. I hummed softly and headed to my room to change.

"Oh my gosh! It's the prince!!"

"Any lady who wishes to meet the prince please step forward. We wont be here for long." For a few moments nothing happened untill you stumbled forward. "You. Young lady you wish to meet the prince?"

"I mean I guess." You said as you approached katsukis horse.

"Does anyone else wish to meet the prince?" No one moved because they were either too frozen in awe to move or they just weren't interested. "Alright we shall be off then. Mrs..."

"Y/n, y/n l/n. But you can call me y/n."

"Miss y/n please allow me to lend you my horse."

"Honey please. I can walk I'm not some damsel in distress." You said as you began walking in the direction of the palace.

"Oi y/n was it? Why did you step forward?"

"Well if you were paying attention I more like tripped forward but anyways. My friends wanted me to meet you so I guess I just did it for my friends."

"And your friends, where are they now?"

"Like hell I'd tell you. I dont even know you."

"Here's where you'll be spending the night. Please make yourself comfortable."

"Wait the night? I thought-"

"If at any time you wish to leave please find one of my maids and they will escort you outside the palace walls."

"Wait what's your name?"

"Katsuki." He said as he walked off.

"Damn hes grouchy."

"Dont worry y/n hes always like that. He has a nice side to him though."

"Doesnt seem like it."

"Let me speak to him. Your friends, I would like to invite them to tomorrow's ball. I can provide you and them with formal wear."

"What in the world is formal wear haha. I dont think I've ever even heard that word."

"Follow me and I'll show you." Mina said as she lead you to a closet. When she opened it the closet looked like a master bathroom it was so large. "Let me go speak to the prince and you can choose a dress and head to your room." Mina said as she left to go speak to katsuki. You hummed and sifted through the racks and racks of clothing till a particular dress caught your eye. A navy blue strapless gown. You gasped at the dress and gently took it off of the rack and took it to the room that was yours for the designated time. When you opened the door you gasped and hung the dress on a hook and flopped onto the bed.

"Knock knock y/n."

"Come in." You replied as the bedroom door opened to katsuki and mina at your door. "Hi mr grumpy. Hi mina." Katsuki growled quietly and mina snickered as she moved to stand in your room.

"I managed to get this angry pomeranian to agree to get to know you." Mina said chuckling some.

"Oh my goodness really? This angry boy agreed to talk to me? What an honor." You said, the last part being sarcastic.

"Pfft. Hahaha."

"What are we gonna start with? My favorite color? Favorite food? I cant wait!" You could see katsuki practically fuming and you burst out laughing. "I'm sorry katsuki but your face ahahaha!!"

"I'm sorry katsuki but your face ahahaha!!" Y/n said as she burst out laughing. I went to growl at her but for some reason I couldnt. It was like she had me frozen somehow.

"Tch. Whatever. Mina said she wanted to be here to also learn more about you so find somewhere to sit mina. I'll stand." I said as mina giggled and sat on the bed next to y/n. I moved to stand next to the vanity in y/n's room and closed the door.

"Eyo I hardly know you buddy."

"Just relax geeze. I see you like to think your funny."

"Boy I am funny. Next question." I sighed and just rolled my eyes.

"My first question is how old are you?"

"I'm as old as I am."

"Y/n, he's trying here." Mina said and I sighed.

"Fine. I'm twenty three. What about you?"

"I'm twenty five. Mina is twenty one."

"Eyo mina we can drink together hah!"

"C'mon y/n he's trying his best here."

"Sorry mina but he's just so serious."

"That's his job." I sighed and gave up.

"Alright I give up. I wont make anymore snarky remarks." I said as katsuki sighed.

"What are your hobbies? Things you like to do."

"Honestly I dont have any. I'm always hunting for me and my friends so I dont get to do much."

"Man, you and her are like the same. Katsuki is always busy with king stuff so he doesnt get to do much of anything."

"Ah well that sucks."

The next morning

"Knock knock, y/n are you awake?" Mina called as I rolled over in my bed, slowly waking up.

"Mmmhm.." i mumbled as i sat up and yawned. Mina opened the door and poked her head through the gap.

"Goodmorning y/n, I brought you fresh clothes and we went and found your friends and brought them here."

"Ok thank you- wait what? My friends are here?"

"Yup, they are currently in the common area waiting for you. I'll let you get dressed. Come out when your ready." Mina said as she set some clothes down on the vanity for me before she left. I hummed and got up and took a look at the clothing on the vanity.

"Holy crap, those are fancy!" I exclaimed as I began to strip myself from my previous days clothing. I hummed and got dressed and ran a brush through my bed head before I headed out of my room to realize I had no clue where I was going until I ran into a blonde woman.

"Oh hi there, you must be y/n."

"Uh hi! That's me."

"I'm mistuki, is there something your looking for?"

"Im looking for the common area? Mina said my friends were there."

"Ah yes, let me show you where they are."

"Thank you, sorry for bumping into you."

"Dont worry about it hon."

"Are you katsukis mom?"

"Hehe I am, my hair tends to give it away."

"Wait that means that your the queen then...holy crap!"

"I see mina rubbed off on you last night haha."

"Mina is awesome. I've only know her for half a day and I already like her."

"Awww! You do?" Mina said giggling some as she stood up and smiled.

"Goodmorning mina."

"Y/n!"

"Ochaco! Hey!!" I said as I hugged ochaco tightly and then izuku, kirishima, and kaminari.

"This place is amazing!!"

At about 7pm

Katsukis p.o.v

People began flooding into the ballroom and so far no one has caught my attention. No one except y/n. She was wearing the dress my mom had worn when she met my dad and it looked perfect on her.

"Awww someone's in loooveee~" mina teased and I felt my face heat up.

"And so what if I am? It's not like shes gonna wanna stay when she finds out why shes here."

"You don't know that sweetheart."

"Well I've already decided who I want to marry, its y/n. She's different."

"Why don't you go dance with her then." I grumbled but complied.

"Y/n may I have this dance?" I asked trying not to embarrass the shit out of myself and to my surprise she said yes.

"Sure why not." Y/n said as I took her hand and lead her to the dance floor. "Only problem is I dont know how to dance."

"You what?! Whatever I'll teach you." I said as I showed her wear her hands went and she learned quickly.

"Y'know yesterday you didnt make a good first impression on me but I think I'm starting to enjoy your presence."

"Good. As you know I have to find someone to marry within three months and that's the reason i brought you here."

"Oh I know. Give me two weeks to warm up to you and then you have eight weeks to make me fall in love with you. If you succeed then I'll accept your proposal."

No ones p.o.v

No one would have thought that in two weeks you would have already fallen head over heels for the blonde hothead of a prince but it happened and you were panicking. Did you really want to marry him or were you just jerking his chain? You were scared. So you went to the two people who knew the feeling best.

Your p.o.v

"Mina, ochaco I need help. I may have made a deal with katsuki."

"Girl what is it?"

"I told him two weeks ago that if I warmed up to him and he was able to make me fall in love with him within eight that I would marry him...and I'm pretty sure I'm in love with him already."

"I knew it!! I could tell by the way you guys hang out all the time and how you guys talk."

"Well what do I do? I can't just walk up to him and tell him!"

"Mabey it's just that simple. Let us help you out, ok?"

"Ok" I said wearily.

"Don't worry about a thing y/n." Ochaco and mina said giving me a hug.

"Thanks you guys."

"Of course girl."

"Knock knock, y/n can we talk?" It was katsuki!

"Uh yeah, give me a bit, I was just talking to mina and ochaco but you can come in."

"Alright." Katsuki said as he opened my door and smiled at me.

"What's up?"

"Do you mind if it's just us?"

"Not at all, we can leave." Mina said as she and ochaco got up and left, closing the door on the way out.

"As you know of our deal two weeks ago, its been almost three and I have a confession to make."

Mina's p.o.v

"I have a confession to make." Katsuki said through the closed door. I looked to ochaco and she smirked.

"What's your confession?"

"I um, I think I've fallen in love with you and I dont want to force myself to you if you dont feel the same way but i just wanted to tell you."

"Katsuki, chill out."

Y/Ns p.o.v

"Katsuki chill out. I've fallen in love with you too. That's what I was talking to the girls about because at first I was joking around but now that i realize it I think I actually wanted to feel like royalty."

"Well you can be royalty if you decide that's what you want. I'm going to ask you this and you don't have to answer immediately but I want to ask. Would you be my girlfriend/fiance?" I was frozen in time and I didn't know what to say my heart said yes but my head said no.

"Let me think about it."

"As you wish, I'll leave you be now."

"Wait, just because you basically asked me to marry you doesn't mean we dont get to hang out anymore. Mina, Ochaco you guys can come in. I know your there." I could hear mina curse lightly and I chuckled as the door opened. "You guys aren't very quiet."

"Damn it."

"When are you supposed to be getting married? The due date if you will."

"I have to be married by April first."

"So plenty of time to see if your husband material. So I'm gonna say yes to being your girlfriend for the time being." Katsuki smiled and pulled me in for a hug and hugged tightly.

"I'm glad you said yes."

"If I knew I'd be getting hugs from grumpy boy I would have a lot sooner."

@myherokatsuki

[skiller0dani]

Palace Garden | General Kirigan

M A S T E R L I S T Shadow and Bone Masterlist

smut requests info w.c | 4.8k summary | You are the General’s personal Healer, he doesn’t go anywhere without you. So when General Kirigan is invited to the King Pyotr’s annual ‘end of year’ party at the Grand Palace, you join him. Except the King’s second son, Nikolai, takes a special interest in you. 

song

My Shadow and Bone pieces will probably include Spoilers from the SHOW. I have not yet read the books, I have only read through most of Six of Crows. I’m finishing that book as we speak, I have only seen the Shadow and Bone tv show, I haven’t read the books. 

PSA: I write with limited knowledge of who Nikolai Lantsov is, although I know he is royalty (King of Ravka I believe) but in the show he isn’t the King, so I made him a Prince. Don’t be mad at me, this is all for fun and it’s FICTION. 

“You’ve received another invitation from the King, just how long do you plan to ignore him?” You snicker as you drop a letter onto the General’s desk. It’s an invitation to King Pyotr’s End of Year Celebration, attended by decorated Soldiers from both the First and Second Army, and hopefully the esteemed General. The previous year the General had ‘urgent’ matters to attend to so he was unable to attend the dreaded party in his words. In truth you always had fun at the King’s Celebrations so you didn’t know what always soured his fun. 

“Until the day after next.” His shoulders were rigid and his tone was clipped. 

“General, tonight is the Celebration. You must answer the King by then, you know that.” You chuckled with a roll of your eyes, watching as the General begrudgingly tore open the envelope. You watched as his eyes scanned the paper in front of him, his eyebrows pinching together in frustration. 

“General?” You knew it was unwise to engage him when he was in a state of agitation but in all honesty, you didn’t fear him the way everyone else did. General Kirigan swiftly ignored you and reached for a pen, and upon further examination your eyes caught your name written on the letter from the King. 

‘I am most eager to meet your esteemed Healer, Y/N.’ 

The General tends to get a tad, possessive, of the things he deems belong to him. You were one the things the General had claimed as his own, and anybody who shows a particular interest in you tends to annoy him. You can see the tension growing in his shoulders, and while you might not know how deeply he cares for you, you know he sees you as more than just his Healer. Hopefully, he sees you as a sort of friend as well. 

“Are we going to attend the Celebration General?” You ask cautiously, watching as Kirigan’s expression shifts from mildly annoyed to thoroughly agitated. You make sure to keep at least one foot distance between you and the General at all times, he tends to be a bit unpredictable when he’s upset. You watch as the General stands, yanking at the buttons of his Kefta before tossing the heavy fabric onto his bed. 

“Yes, we are. Apparently both Princes will be in attendance.” The General says through a huff, reaching for his dress jacket- the black one with gold detailing he wears for social events. The Princes? Neither of the Princes have been spotted inside the Grand Palace for a few months now, it’s no wonder the King has chosen tonight for the Celebration. The end of the year isn’t for a few weeks and normally the Celebration is closer to the years change. You try to mask the mild excitement you feel at the prospect of meeting either of the Princes, although you don’t hear much about Prince Vasily. Most of the young Grisha women training in the Little Palace whisper about Prince Nikolai. 

“Does this please you?” The General asks, his tone distracted as he finishes buttoning his Kefta in the mirror. You shake your head, your eyes briefly catching his. 

“I couldn’t care either way General.” You say with a shrug, and you swear you see the tiniest smile grace the corner of his lips. For as long as you could remember you’ve had a thing for the General, what women wouldn’t? He’s tall, handsome, has dark hair, dark eyes, and he’s powerful. You doubt some Prince could ever compare to General Kirigan, not that you’re hoping one will. A Tailor swiftly enters the General’s chambers then, her eyes landing on you. 

“A package has come for Y/N sir, and she should be getting ready for the party soon.” She says, her eyes only briefly meeting the General’s before flickering back towards the floor. His eyebrows stitch together when he sees the box she holds. You reach for it before his hand raises, “give it to me.” He instructs sternly. The Tailor quickly hands the package to the General and you see an unreadable expression pull onto his face. He plucks a note from the top lid of the package, and hands it to you before opening the package. 

I await our meeting with bated breath dear Y/N. 

- Prince Nikolai

Inside the package is easily the most beautiful dress you’ve ever seen. It’s blood red with silver detailing, and it goes all the way to the floor. You take the dress from the General, stroking the smooth silk. He can see the twinkling in your eyes as you eye the gift from the Prince, it sends surges of frustration through his tightening chest. The Tailor ushers you into the General’s bathroom so you can change, and the General turns his back for privacy. It’s been like this for some time now, you hardly ever get ready for social events in your own room anymore. You’d been the General’s Healer for quite a few years now, and on more than one occasion he’s had to provide some Healing for you as well. He’s seen your entire upper torso bare from when he had to heal a stab wound through your chest. Needless to say, you were probably too comfortable in the presence of the General. 

You stepped out of the bathroom and the General turned, his eyes landing on you. For a second he didn’t know what to say, you were absolutely stunning. Your hair had been let in loose curls down your back, normally you wore it up and out of the way so he didn’t normally get to admire your hair falling around your face. The dress hugged each of your curves beautifully, but the color was irritating him. Surely it was tailored to match whatever the Prince was wearing and General Kirigan couldn’t let that slide. 

“Well? Am I presentable?” You ask the General, knowing you’ll need his say-so  before you’re party ready. 

“Nearly.” The General says, his voice trailing off into a whisper as he leans over towards the Tailor. You can see her smile but it’s quickly masked, and you don’t know what he’s saying to her. Quickly the Tailor ushers you back into the bathroom and fumbles around for a few things from her kit. She turns back to you with concentration on her face and soon the appearance of your dress begins to change. The red color fades away and is replaced with an inky black color, and the silver detailing morph into gold detailing. Soon the dress remains mostly the same, except for the fact that it matches the Kefta the General is wearing. When you step out of the bathroom again, you see a pleased look upon the General’s face. 

“Now you’re ready.” 

»»————-　✼　————-««

Your arm was hooked with the Generals as you entered the main hall of the Grand Palace, your eyes immediately traveling to all the ornate decorations covering the walls. Decorated window curtains, glass chandeliers, a wide ballroom laid out in front of you. It was crowded with people, a soft Orchestra playing in the background, and soft chatter. The General wore an easy smile across his face. He was keeping up appearances, you know he didn’t want to be here. His arm held you to his side tightly, and looming before you was the throne for the King and Queen. Stood on each side of them were the Princes, Vasily stood next to the King, and Nikolai next to the Queen. The King looked positively delighted to see the General. 

“General Kirigan! Good you could make it. You remember my sons Vasily and Nikolai don’t you?” The King gestured to both of the Princes, and while Vasily regarded the General with a polite smile, Nikolai’s eyes were firmly on you. 

“Yes of course, allow me to introduce the Princes to my Personal Healer- Y/N.” General Kirigan sounds almost proud as he introduces you, and you bow for the Princes who both send you a smile. Although Nikolai’s smile is flirtier then this brothers, who remains polite. The Queen’s eyes trail down your gown, noticing the slight shimmer to the fabric. 

“Your dress is lovely, you must have had a good Tailor.” She smiles and you blush as you take your place next to the General, your arm slipping through his with ease. 

“Well actually it was a gift from Prince Nikolai. T-Thank you for such a generous gift!” You inform her shyly, feeling General Kirigan’s body go slightly rigid beside you. You carefully peek at the General, and you notice he’s locked in a heated stare-down with Prince Nikolai. 

“You’re very welcome, did the color not suit you?” He asks and it’s just now that you notice the Kefta he’s wearing matched your dresses previous color perfectly. 

“Oh not at all-” 

“I thought it would be better for my Healer to match my Kefta, your highness.” The General cuts in, his voice polite but firm. The General says it as if you should match because you’re his Healer but you know what he’s really saying. He’s telling the Prince he wanted you to match his Kefta and not Nikolai’s, General Kirigan is saying that you belong to him and the Prince knows that.  

“Of course.” The Prince’s tone is tense, and the smile on his face looks practiced. You stay firmly placed by the Generals side, offering a polite smile as the General nearly drags you away from the royalty and further into the party. You can feel the frustration washing off the General in waves, your hand curling around his bicep a little tighter as a weak attempt to calm him. Kirigan almost cant stand the sight of you wearing a dress the Prince picked for you, but seeing the Princes face when he realized the dress he picked no longer matched his Kefta, but the General’s instead was wonderful enough to make up for it. 

“General? I apologize but you’re needed urgently-” A Grisha solider pushes gently through the crowd and begins to whisper hastily in the General’s ear. You see annoyance cross onto the General’s face before he shoos the Grisha away. He turns towards you, leaning down to brush his lips over the shell of your ear. The small action sends shivers down your spine. 

“Can you manage by yourself for a few minutes? There’s something I need to attend to, but I should be back shortly.” He whispers and you quickly offer him a nod before slipping your arm from his. General Kirigan shoots you an apologetic look before following the path the Grisha took before he disappears from sight. You hold a glass in your palm, although you’re not sure what the shimmering liquid is. You feel slightly out of place, and everyone steers clear of you. They saw you with the General, and are probably going to continue to ignore you to prevent receiving the Generals wrath.

“Y/N, right?” You hear a voice to your right and you know who it is before you even turn. Only one person is brave enough to approach somebody the General has placed an ‘unspoken’ claim on. 

“Prince Nikolai.” You smile politely, taking a step to the side to create a small amount of distance from you and the Prince. He sips at his glass, a twinkling of mischievousness in his eyes. 

“So tell me the real reason the color of your dress was altered. I thought we would have complimented each other nicely.” His voice is smooth like honey, his eyes a cool amber. It’s not that you find the Prince unattractive, quite the opposite actually. You just aren’t interested in him that way, and his good looks could never compare to General Kirigan. The Prince is clean cut and refined, while the General is rugged and untamed. They’re opposites in every way, and you just can’t be attracted to anybody else. Prince Nikolai could never compare to the General. 

“I apologize Prince Nikolai, but I wanted to match the General.” You say with ease, finally allowing yourself to take a sip of the mystery drink in your hand. A look you can’t place briefly crosses over Prince Nikolai’s face, if you didn’t know any better you’d say he looked hurt. 

“I see.” Is all he says and for the next few minutes you feel a tense silence before a hand presses against the small of your back. You turn your head and nearly breathe a sigh of relief. 

“General.” You smile, although his eyes are firmly on Prince Nikolai. His hand gently pulls you closer to his side, and your heart races the tiniest bit faster when his hand curls around your hip to rest there. You know you and the General aren’t together, but the placement of his hand tells people otherwise. You lean further into his side, and you can feel his body relax ever-so-slightly as you do so. When the Orchestra plays a slow song, General Kirigan glances down at you with a raised brow. 

“Prince Nikolai, if you’ll excuse us.” General Kirigan says when you notice other couples moving to the dance floor, including the King and Queen. He turns then and leads you out to the ballroom floor, his hand pressing against your lower back, holding your chest flush with his. He takes your hand with his free hand and soon you are both gently swaying to the music. The lights in the ballroom dim, the stars twinkling outside becoming even brighter. 

“General, could I ask you a question?” You ask softly, relaxing into his embrace. When you hear him hum softly in response you turn your head up to look at him, he towers over you. You nibble on your bottom lip, your heart beginning to race like mad in your chest. His grip on your palm shifts to allow his fingers to lace through yours gently. 

“Why does Prince Nikolai make you so...upset?” You ask, and deep down you know the answer. You just need him to say it. General Kirigan’s eyes flicker to meet yours, an expression on his face that you can’t read. His body presses more firmly against yours when his hold on your lower back tightens, pulling you even closer to him then you were before. You wished you could stay here in this moment with him forever, just the two of you and nobody else. You know that in your heart, you’ve fallen in love with General Kirigan but you doubt he’d ever feel the same way. 

“Because I dislike the amount of attention he gives you.” General Kirigan admits, his eyes turning away from yours. You thumb rubs circles over the back of his hand subconsciously as your mind tries to grasp what he just said. 

“Prince Nikolai could devote his entire life to attempting to impress me, and it would make no difference General.” You say softly, drawing his gaze back to yours. Your faces are nearly touching, your noses brushing against each others as you lean up on your tippy toes to be closer to him. 

“Why not?” He can’t help himself as he asks, surely there’s not a chance you could ever feel for him what he feels for you. Part of him hates himself for being so weak, for allowing his heart to care for you, for allowing a weakness to crawl into his heart. 

“Because he could never mean to me what you mean to me General, no matter how hard he tries...he could never be you.” You whisper softly, your cheeks burning hot and your eyes refusing to meet his. General Kirigan feels every emotion he’s tried to push away flood through him then, joy, excitement, glee, pure happiness. A small smile overtakes his face as he leans down to whisper in your ear for the second time tonight. 

“Aleksander.” 

“What?” You’re startled to say the least, pulling back to look into his eyes. Did he just...? 

“That’s my name.” He clarifies, a full smile on his face now. You feel your heart pounding heavily in your chest when you suddenly hear a loud explosion. Startled, you push yourself into General- Aleksander’s chest. His arms curl around your body as the floor to ceiling windows are thrown open, and fireworks are seen outside. Immediately people flood out onto the Palace garden to view the fireworks, and Aleksander is gently leading you outside with them. Your hand is still locked with his as your head tips up to watch the colors explode in the sky. The Alkemi really pulled all the stops for this firework show. Your breath is stolen right from your lungs as you watch the fireworks go off, but soon you feel Aleksander’s fingers turning your face to look at him. Your eyes lock onto his before you’re leaning forward to connect your lips to his. 

His arms wrap around your torso to pull you against him tighter, your arms flying up around his shoulders. You hear the fireworks exploding above you and the cheering of the crowd around you, but soon all of them fade away until it’s just you and Aleksander out in the garden alone. You don’t notice the people cheering for the fireworks around you, and you certainly don’t notice Prince Nikolai eyeing you with a broken heart from across the garden. He’s heard much of your victories in battle, and he knows more about you then you thought. When you part from Aleksander, you see a smile on his face and you know that same smile is mirrored on your own face. 

»»————-　✼　————-««

By the time you make it back into Aleksander’s room, the moon is at it’s peak in the sky but you don’t feel tired. You stand shyly in his doorway, usually this is around the time you’d bid the General goodnight and begin the short trek to your room. But you’re not ready to say goodnight, you’re not ready for tonight to be over just yet and you can only hope he isn’t either. You bite the inside of your cheek just as you turn to head back into the hallway. 

“Leaving so soon?” You hear his voice cut through the silence, and when you turn you see hurt flashing in his eyes. Does he want you to stay? 

“I assumed you’d want me to go...like I normally do.” You say softly, your cheeks burning hot. 

“Stay.” Is all he says, and it’s all you need to hear. You take a few steps into his room, shutting the door softly behind you. Aleksander crosses the room to you, his hands cupping your cheeks and pulling your lips back onto his. Your hands grab at the lapels of his Kefta, drawing him ever closer to you. His lips move languidly against yours before the kiss grows more desperate, his hands yanking your legs around his waist as he lifts you easily. His palms rest on the globes of your ass, quickly turning you and placing you down on the desk, not caring about the papers that are sent scattering off the desk. Your hands are trembling as your fingers work to unfasten the buttons of his Kefta. His hands don’t know where to touch first, gently grasping at the underside of your breasts before trailing down your curves, feeling how the dress hugs you so perfectly. 

“G-General!” You gasp as his lips latch onto your pulse point, his hands digging into your hips. You finally unbutton his Kefta completely, pushing the fabric from his shoulders as soon as it’s freed. You yank at his dress shirt until its untucked from his pants, and his hands reach up your back to pull at the zipper securing your dress. 

“Desperate?” Aleksander teases as he slowly pulls the zipper down your dress, the shoulders falling down your arms. You nod frantically, in truth you’ve never felt this desperate for anybody in your whole life. Your palms cup his cheeks, pulling his lips back to yours as his hands pull your dress down your body until it bunches at your waist. You’re practically panting against his lips as one of Aleksander’s hands slides up your thigh before he pulls away from you. He pulls back, just far enough that your lips can’t reach his. You try anyway, leaning forward and chasing his lips with an open mouth. He chuckles softly but stays just out of reach. 

“What’s wrong?” You whine, your hands resting on his shoulders. Aleksander has a smile on his face, his hands are still on your hips, holding you tightly. He can’t believe that you’re here in front of him, letting him kiss you, letting him undress you. If only you knew all of the terrible things he’s done with the very same hands that are touching you, you’d probably want nothing to do with him. Aleksander brushes that thought away. 

“Nothing, I just wanted to take in the moment.” He smiles but you groan, pulling helplessly at his shirt. He chuckles before leaning back towards you, pressing his lips to yours again. He loves that you’re so eager for him, so needy for him. Aleksander finishes pushing your dress down your legs, leaving you in nothing more than a pair of panties. His hands reach up to cup the underside of your breasts, his lips moving quickly against yours. Your hands reach to the hem of his shirt, and you part briefly to pull his dress shirt over his head. 

“Sure about this?” Aleksander mumbles against your lips as his hand dips into your panties to drag a finger through your drenched folds. You nod helplessly against his lips, your fingers digging into his shoulders when he pushes a lewd finger into your tight opening. He thrusts his finger into you quickly, loving the desperate whines coming from your lips. 

“Words please.” He says softly, quickly pressing a second finger into you. Your nails press crescent moons into his shoulders when he crooks his fingers into you, making you squeal. 

“Yes, yes I’m sure about this.” You gasp, his thumb making contact with your clit and rubbing tight little circles. Your lips press firmly to his again, and he swallows all of your moans. Aleksander groans softly when he feels you grind your hips into his hand, your back arching as his other hand slides up your stomach to pinch your nipple. 

“God all I want is you Aleksander-” You moan, saying his real name for the first time. Hearing you moan his name has shivers trembling down his back, and his fingers pulling out of your tight heat. Your hands are reaching for the waistband of his pants, fumbling with the button before you give up and Aleksander is swatting your hands away. He quickly undoes his pants and reaches into them to pull his hardening cock out. With one hand, he rips your panties from your body, leaving you naked and sprawled across his desk. It’s not a sight he’ll ever forget. He steps into your spread legs, one hand on his cock and the other hand on your hip as he presses his tip against your slippery folds. Your hands pull his chest against yours as you press your face into his neck when he pushes into you. Both of you release a moan simultaneously when you feel him stretching you open. 

“Please tell me this isn’t a one time thing-” 

“Stop talking.” He growls before pressing his lips against yours as he continues to work himself inch by inch into you. You mewl against his lips as he bottoms out, his tip nestled against the spot that makes your toes curl. It burns just a bit, but you’re still panting against him as he stays completely still inside you. You try to pull your hips back but his hands lock you in place, a playful smile on his face as he watches you roll your hips. His pupils are blown open in lust as he holds you against him, and he feels you growing wetter by the second. You want him to move so badly, you feel tears of frustration pushing at the backs of your eyes as you weakly try to once again get him to move inside you. 

“Move please.” You beg shamlessly and Aleksander presses a quick kiss to your lips. 

“You have to promise me something first.” He says softly and you groan, rolling your hips desperately again. He’s so hard inside you, you can feel your walls squeezing him tightly. 

“Anything!” You nearly cry out, you ignore him when you hear him chuckle softly. 

“Promise me that you’re mine. I can’t have anybody else seeing you this way.” Aleksander growls, starting to feel a little impatient himself. Your hands pull his bare chest against yours, your lips a hair’s distance away from his. 

“I promise. I’m yours, only yours.” You promise, your hips wriggling against his once more. Seemingly satisfied, Aleksander pulls his hips back and slams back into you, causing you to cry out as he sets a brutal pace. He slams into you, ramming his tip against your g-spot repeatedly. You cry out as his lips latch onto your neck, leaving bruises in his wake as he bites and suckles any skin he can find. Your arms wind around his shoulders as he slams into you, reducing you to nothing more than a boneless moaning mess underneath him. Your lips press to his and you kiss him with a fiery passion, your body rocking against his. Suddenly Aleksander pulls out, gently yanking you off the desk to bend you over it. Your toes barely touch the ground before he’s sliding into you again, taking you roughly from behind. You hear him hiss through clenched teeth as his hand runs up your spine to twist your hair around his hand. He yanks you up onto your elbows by your hair, holding you in place as he keeps his brutal pace. 

“Oh yes, yes-” All you can do is cry out and moan underneath him, all of your thoughts reduced to nothing more than endless praises to his cock. His grip on your hair loosens before your upper body collapses against the desk again, and his hands move instead to your hips to draw your body back against him to meet his thrusts. Pulling you back against him allows him to ram even deeper inside you, and you can feel his tip hit your cervix every time he thrusts into you. One of his hands reaches around your body to pinch and roll your clit and as soon as he does you’re crying out and moaning like a bitch in heat. His teeth are clenched as he groans above you, you feel absolutely heavenly. 

“Fuck, fuck! Gonna cum, I’m gonna cum!” You cry out helplessly, your hip bones screaming in pain every time they’re rammed against the edge of the desk. Aleksander doesn’t slow down even for a second, continuing to brutally pound into you, desperate to chase his own release. Aleksander yanks your torso up so that your back is pressed to his chest and one of his hands reaches down to roll your clit. You cry out desperately as your orgasm washes through you, causing you to clamp down around him tightly. Aleksander fucks up into you, slamming into your overstimulated body until you’re violently trembling and soon he’s cumming in hot spurts. Your exhausted body nearly collapses to the floor when he pulls out and steps away. Aleksander immediately reaches forward to catch you before you crumple to the floor. 

He scoops you into his arms and gently carries you to the bed, and you practically melt into the mattress. You see concern pooling in his eyes as he pulls the blankets over you, his thumbs brushing over the bruises on your neck and shoulders, plus the purple bruises on your hipbones from the desk. He leans down to press his lips to your gently and you smile into the kiss. 

“I know that look, stop worrying. I can Heal myself in the morning, I’m too tired now.” You reassure him and his worry eases a bit before he’s standing to turn out all of the lights and slide into the bed next to you. Aleksander reaches over to pull your limp body against his chest. Pressing a kiss to your head, he holds you against him tightly. 

“Did I go too hard?” He asks into the silence and you nuzzle into his warm chest. 

“It was perfect Aleksander.” You promise, pressing a kiss against his chest. He relaxes then with you in his arms. Soon he hears your breathing even out and he knows you’re asleep. Aleksander knows by now that he’s falling in love with you, but for your sake he has to keep his distance. He’ll have to find a new Healer, no matter how much it pains him to do so. If anybody found out the Black Heretic loved somebody, you’d be in grave danger and frankly, Aleksander is afraid of what he’d do if he ever lost you. His heart breaks when he remembers what he has to do tomorrow, but luckily it isn’t tomorrow yet and he can enjoy laying here with you sleeping in his arms.