#its not medieval anymore

[notes-from-sarah]

Molehill I will die on: Richard III was not a medieval king. This man had mechanical clocks, guns and the printing press. He was born the same year as Leonardo da Vinci for christsake. Richard III was not and never will be a medieval king.

[baeshijima]

u know what would be a cool genshin fic idea? isekai/transmigrated reader, but instead of appearing within the general timeline, you come into the genshin world 500 years prior to the start of the storyline in khaenri'ah.

honestly it could be either a little before the cataclysm, giving enough time to delve into some relationship building + explore some world building with characters like dainsleif, traveller's sibling (which would probably be lumine bc i actually do like her as abyss sibling & aether as traveller), and npcs like halfdan (still crying over him to this day ;w;) and possibly the khaenri'ahn royal guards (assuming you either join them or have a good enough relationship with them), OR it could be you appear during the crisis, completely and utterly lost as to why you were brought amidst the chaos and bloodshed as you watch everything you barely knew about this nation crumble before your very eyes.

either route will still result in reader's existential crises and constant "why am i here? just to suffer?" monologues because really, who would be fine after going through that after coming from /our/ world? and not to mention you've had to endure the next 500 years wandering with no real set path because you don't know this world— this era of teyvat or of genshin. you're merely stuck, unable to die, and forced to live a life of uncertainty with no clear direction for you to go to.

despite it all, you've at least been able to see dain during this course. while your meetings pass far too quickly for your lonesome, and his solemn demeanour is something you're yet to be accustomed to after having been with him before the fall of khaenri'ah (assuming it's the route where you appear before the cataclysm), you're glad to see a familiar face every now and then. after the messy departure with the lumine who left for the abyss order, you've come to appreciate his quiet presence more and more each time.

and then you decide it might be time to settle. you soon realise it's difficult to do so when your lifespan has become far more than that of a human's — of a mortal's — and so you find yourself becoming used to staying in one place for a few years before setting off for the next. rinse and repeat. over and over. it's come to a point where you've witnessed the nations undergo various changes each time you visit. you know change is inevitable, and yet your heart stings each time you witness it; a testament to how the world is ever-changing, yet you're stuck in place as a bystander.

one thing you're grateful for, however, are the bonds you've established amid your back-and-forth over the centuries. from archons like zhongli and venti to long-life beings such as neuvillette and the adepti to regular mortals who have showed you kindness as if one of their own... you've grown to cherish those memories, often reminiscing them when the nights get too long and surroundings too quiet. it was difficult at first, and still is, but you've become used to the inevitable change and the passing of those you once knew.

and after 500 years, you find yourself face-to-face with one you haven't seen since before you appeared in this world; the protagonist of this world, and the one you eventually join in hopes of finally finding a means to an end, aether.

little side notes/extras:

from /our/ world, you would probably know the storyline from up to around current (5.0) or maybe a little after the fontaine aq conclusion. it gives a lot to work with, but you definitely won't remember a lot of the lore after so long other than some main events, especially since most of your knowledge is pretty irrelevant for the next 500 years,,,

i think it would be cool if you had an inteyvat on your person as a little homage of khaenri'ah, which may or may not invoke some opinions from certain characters (*cough* aether immediately being reminded of lumine and having an existential crisis *cough*)

post-cataclysm you would go through a, uhm, long phase of helplessness, wondering why you were even brought to this world so far back if you couldn't even make any contributions. it does eventually morph into a resolution to do what you can to help those you come across if it's within your capabilities, but the nightmares and helplessness come back every now and then as a reminder for what you can't do :D yippee :D

honestly i'm on the fence whether you would have a vision or some other type of abilities (think on the similar lines of aether/lumine's and dain's), but i think having some type of purification mechanic would be a must in your arsenal !! would definitely lead to some moments between you and characters like dain or zhongli who suffer from the erosion as you give them a slight reprieve from what rages within and corrodes them

a little self indulgent, but i'd like to think your first /proper/ meeting with zhongli happens during a lantern rite festival, wherein you're admiring the lanterns in the sky after making a wish of your own and he comes up from behind with "they're beautiful, wouldn't you say so?" and !!

also as for love interests, as much as i would love for human/mortal characters, a part of me feels like this story would be better suited for the immortal/long-life characters as love interests?? idk i feel like considering that 500 years is, well, a long time, the bonds you would have with them compared to characters like, say, alhaitham or diluc would be way too different ?? though i would definitely still add them as love interest bc i am a sucker for so many of the human characters ;w; it would also add to the angst and hurt/comfort ahahha...

anyway thank you for reading this massive brain dump of a fic bc i absolutely would put this as a long term project, and if u made it this far then i would like to say that dain solos—

[chimeride]

[solarpunkani]

I think one thing I struggle with when it comes to wanting to write Solarpunk stories is like

I like writing conflicts. But I don’t know how to write large conflicts—so something like ‘dismantling the government to install a solarpunk society in its place’ is way too big of a fish for me to fry

But also small conflicts just don’t do it for me. I just can’t stay entertained with them long enough. So something like ‘little Maisy lost her favorite doll and its up to her older brother to find it. Oh btw they live in a solarpunk society’ wouldn’t get past like one page if I tried it

But how fantastical can one get before a society is no longer solarpunk but just… fantasy? How far out of the realm of reality can you get before it just seems hollow? But how close can you stay? How much conflict can you have before your hopeful vision of a solarpunk future is no longer hopeful and no longer solarpunk? How big of an issue can you create in a solarpunk society, what kind, while still keeping it solarpunk? While still having a problem that can’t just be handwaved with ‘that wouldn’t happen in solarpunk’?

And of course logically I know the answer is different for everyone. But like. Still. How derivative can you get, how much conflict can you add, before a story intended to be solarpunk just becomes ‘random urban fantasy but with round roofs stained glass and a lot more greenhouses?’

[cheer-nympho]

Steve had been conned into chaperoning the kids to a ren faire.

Admittedly with very little resistance, but he was keeping that to himself. Once there and with their bags packed away into some apparently theme appropriate tents he had shrugged on some medieval casual clothes and…immediately lost track of all of them,

But a figure he did spot was a long haired Jester entertaining a small entourage with juggling,

Steve finds himself laughing slightly condescendingly at the jingling man. Why do people find juggling so impressive?

He picked it up straight away with some hackey sacks while bored between practices. He’s just good with his hands.

When he looks back up to get another glance in however, the jester isn’t perched on top of his little rock anymore and the crowd has merged with the other dweebs.

Steve stares at the empty space for a moment before a jingle right by his ear spooks him into turning around.

“Art thou not impressed by my amazing skills, your lordship?” The jester asks, swaying on his feet and causing the bells all over him to ping, grin wide and mocking.

And up close Steve notices one very important, very dangerous thing.

This court jester is really fucking hot.

He looks like an idiot, a nerd, a dweeb. Its hard not to in a pointy hat. But he also wore it too well, looked too perfect like that.

Steve notices the…is that..? Yes, the corset wrapping tightly around the mans waist, red and black diamonds decorating the sides and leading to small puffy shorts. His legs are covered in tight black leggings which should look ridiculous. It should.

An obnoxious cough and head tilt-jingle make Steve aware that he has been staring at the mans waist for way longer than was ‘bro code permitted’

He looks up with a wince, expecting a look of disgust ranging from mild embarrassment to punch-your-lights-out.

He was, instead, greeted by a smug and knowing smile. The red and black triangles painted over the mans eyes warped where the grin reached them. “Or maybe thou art impressed, but skills are not what draw thine eyes.”

Shit. Fuck. The stupid hot nerd is using stupid nerd speak on him. And Steves stupid nerd, apparently ‘very accurate’ pants are getting tighter. He needs to say something. Anything.

“You’ve got…bells.” Okay, maybe not anything. He used to be better at this shit.

He is rewarded with a wild, joyous laugh as the jester throws his head from side to side. “I do! Isn’t it amazing?The staff insisted on it so they could hear me coming.”

“It certainly makes an impression-“

“Eddie, names Eddie. And what does my lordship go by?”

“Steve is fine.”

“That he is…” The comment was punctuated by a less than subtle glance, almost a leer. “However, Fine Steve seems unimpressed with my merrymaking. As the official court jester, I cannot let that stand.” He stamps his foot, causing another cacophony of jingles.” “Therefore…”

“…Pick a card any card!” A pack of standard cards was presented to him with a flourish, but all he could do was roll his eyes.

“Come on, really? This shit is basic. All I have to do it watch your hands. You’ll swipe my card out and put it back in later, or mark it somehow.”

“Ooo his highness has it all figured out doesn’t he. Well then, princess, you have nothing to lose by picking a card, do you?” And that was…true. Plus he could maybe try to fix his previous fumble and try to claw a number out of this disaster.

So with another bitchy roll of his eyes, Steve plucks a card from the deck and hides it behind his palm. Two of Hearts.

Then out of nowhere… “You know, Stevie, if you think I’m pretty you can just tell me. I know the kingdom would approve not of a noble like yourself marrying a commoner like me, but they need know little of how we…” He begins to reshuffle the cards, motioning for Steve to place his chosen one back in before making some very obvious, very crude movements with his fingers. “…get to know each other in the meantime.”

He was going to die. In the middle of a nerd fest.

“Well, my lord…” Eddie continues, circling him while dragging a finger across his arms and shoulder blades before coming to a stop in front of him. A very bold hand takes Steves jaw and forces his head up, pretending to inspect something on his costume for any bystanders.

“If you would like some more…close up demonstrations…” He leans in tightly, still holding Steve’s jaw in a tight grip. “You can pay me a visit in staff cabin 23 tonight.” He strokes a piece of hair gently behind Steve’s ear before pulling out a card, as if from said ear.

Steve was glad that Eddie took the initiative to carefully pull his hand up and place the card into his palm, because currently Steve was too preoccupied with staring like a fish out of water into Eddies eyes. Everything about him was just so captivating, so alive.

Maybe that’s why he did little more than step forward aimlessly, with small grabby hands when Eddie pulled away. Before Steve could even process it, the bells and jingles had mingled back into the crowd. But that was…that was okay. Cause he could go to the…cabin?

But how was he supposed to- Oh. He looks down. On the card was a loosely clipped room key with a ‘23’ crudely engraved into the edge as if by a pocket knife.

The card itself, to his horror, was the Two of Hearts.

Shit.

He forgot to watch the fucking hands.

[symboslug]

Still canon even though I turned him into an oc.

I think he also has one Irish/Brittonic name that he can't get out of his head (his mother is Irish) and as soon as he told Cadoc about that name, Cadoc started using mainly that name for him.

Cadoc called him John or Martin at first, when he was just another monk for him. As he started to know him a little more, he started using his chosen Anglo-Saxon names to awake his pagan past, but also as a form of decolonization. After all, Cadoc told him his actual (old scottish) name and not some Sicilian name nor name of a saint.

He used some Anglo-saxon names before he joined the monastery. His clan deadnamed him sadly, so it was more for himself :/

Wilfred

Edmund

Edward (of course)

Alfred

Durwyn

Oswald

and these ones in the monastery

These are biblical ones or names of saints. He's a monk in a medieval monastery, what did you expect.

John (he likes it the most, in connection to the saint John the evangelist)

Lawrence

Theodore

David (didn't felt right to him, used for like a week)

Peter

Sebastian (saint Sebastian looks like a twink, I don't like fc 2)

Martin

Aaron (of course)

[wearenemies]

dashboard simulator

mutual 1: *poor quality image of pete wentz* does anybody know where i can buy a crowbar. for sexual purposes

mutual 2: my mikey way tulpa is coming along well

mutual 3: its so over after this mcr is breaking up forever theres no hope for us didnt you see the messaging in their staging. god. fuck its over

mutual 1: *image of patrick stump’s bulge*

mutual 4: im killing myself tomorrow

mutual 5: both of these blog posts may seem innocuous at first, but in fact when considered in relation to one another we can observe several similar phrases, and a pattern emerges in the pacing of his prose that proves without a doubt that he’s having an extramarital affair with his singer. first, the recurrence of the phra

mutual 1: i need to get a man pregnant

mutual 4: *joe trohman image* killing myself cancelled hello gorgeous 😍😍😍😍😍

mutual 6: mcr is releasing new music next week i know this deep in my soul the messaging in their staging is unmissable guys we have never been so fucking back in our lives

mutual 1: *image of patrick stump’s bulge*

mutual 3: *image of two members of my chemical romance publicly beating the snot out of one another* do you remember how we used to run

mutual 1: *image of patrick stump’s bulge*

mutual 7: frank iero is like a delicious steak to me i need to rip him apart like a feral dog

mutual 8: *the most stunning lovingly rendered drawing you’ve ever seen in your life of two middle aged musicians making out nasty style* just a quick doodle :)

mutual 4: my fucking bus was late killing myself is officially back on

mutual 5: *web weave consisting of sections of beautiful niche literature, medieval biblical illustrations, 17th century oil paintings, james baldwin quotations and peterick interviews*

mutual 1: *image of patrick stump’s bulge*

mutual 7: do you guys think i could cite unholyverse in my applied religious literature thesis i cant ask my professor because she blocked my email but idk i think it counts as a good modern text

mutual 2: guys i think my mikey way tulpa might be starting to crave blood

mutual 6: *ray toro image* im experiencing divine ecstasy i need her to [DATA EXPUNGED]

mutual 9: i cant listen to fall out boy anymore guys i had a nightmare where andy was chasing me in the dark forest it seemed really real

mutual 10 (unattached to bandom): out of the beatles john would for sure have the biggest boobs

mutual 1: what if it was called when we were freaky fest

[aldryrththerainbowheart]

Medieval knight!Jason Todd who's a long-lost son of the Wayne earldom. He took up a crusade when he was younger but was believed to be dead. Only to reveal himself several years later during the swordsmanship tournament hosted by Wayne family. Just as Dick was lying in the sand coughing up blood next to his discarded sword, his unknown challenger took off his scarlet helmet and the entire court erupted in chaos.

That was years ago now. Since then, Sir Todd made amends with his family, but they are by no means close. Jason managed to gain a title and a fief on his own, independent of his family and he takes no small pride in that. These days he and his merry group of loyal warriors take up mercenary work and guardianship if the person has enough coin.

When the local baron hired him to be a personal guard for his daughter, Jason was sure that would be an easy job for a good amount of gold. The red knight soon found out that being your bodyguard is not as easy as he thought. You were quite the escape artist. Whenever a banquet or an audience was too boring for your liking, you simply vanished, and Jason had to search for you high and low to drag you back. It made him grind his jaw and caused his temper to flare more than once.

You were thrilled and appalled that someone spoke to you so crassly and brazenly. Other soldiers your father assigned to you treated you with the utmost respect and gave up after a few months. Not the red knight. He proved himself to be just as stubborn as you, if not more. At this point, it wasn't about money anymore. He just couldn't stand the thought of some spoiled daughter of a noble getting the better of him. Jason had no qualms about throwing you over his shoulder and carrying you back to the castle, while the plate of his armor dug uncomfortably into your stomach.

After six months of this, Jason was fed up with your nonsense and was ready to collect his gold and disappear for good. You were hiding from the baroness, some nonsense about dress fitting or a dance lesson. Jason was just returning from the training grounds when he saw you sitting on the ground near the barn, playing with a fresh litter of kittens. You knew the cat and the kittens well, and judging how other animals treated you it wasn't your first time there. You met his gaze and winked at him, placing a finger to your lips. Your first shared secret.

After that day, your personal guard Jason somehow became your partner in crime. He looked the other way sometimes or followed in a safe distance. You fascinated him, and somehow, before he even knew it, he started to fall for you. He wanted to deny it. Jason reminded himself time and time again why it was a horrible idea. However, he couldn't keep himself from falling more and more for you.

Another day, another one of your daring escapes. This time was, different, though. You took some of your belongings and your horse while leaving a letter to say your goodbyes. Jason did not care for exploring the feelings of absolute horror that grasped his heart at the thought of you disappearing from his life. He immediately set out to search for you. You couldn't escape too far and he knew where to go. He knew you better than anyone.

When he caught up with you, you were residing in a tavern in a small cozy village near the edge of your father's land. You were always annoyed and scathing whenever he came to bring you back home, but this time, you were just sad, almost tearful. Jason demanded an explanation for your unusual disappearance, and the one he received almost made him shatter the pitcher in his hand. The courting season was swiftly approaching.

He knew of your fear and unwillingness to get pawned off for alliance and title. He was also aware that your parents were adamant in marrying you off before grow out of marrigable age.

Which is why your loyal guardian made you an offer. You stay in the village for its upcoming festival, relishing in last days of freedom without responsibility, before returning home. This offer served not only you, but Jason as well. He wanted to revel in your presence before returning to your old life where he was the knight and you were the noble.

In hinsight, he should've realized that was a mistake, because in these last few days he became aware of how smitten he'd become. It was all too easy to forget his duties when you were pretending to be a simple village girl.

You peroused the stalls, gawking at everything you saw and chatting his ear off. He watched you trying to eat the commoner food with your bare hands, hilariously failing. When they arrived in the square where the dance was held, you haven't hesitated before grabbing his hand and pulling him for a dance. Jason wanted to protest, but your bright smile convinced him. He twirled you amongst the townsfolk before he noticed familiar faces heading your way. The baron's soldiers, no doubt they were looking for you.

Quicker than you could react, Jason pulled you into a darkened corner, covering your body with his, pressing your lips together. He kissed you until he knew the guards were gone. He pulled away to apologize but before he could say anything you grabbed him by the lapels of his cloak and pressed your lips together again. You kissed him with sweetness and desperation that stole breath from his lungs, and Jason had no choice but to melt into you. He wrapped his arms around you, pressing you impossibly close to him, your hands slipped from his cheeks to his hair.

He indulged little longer before letting voice of reason win, pulling away. Jason reminded you that you shouldn't be doing this, reminded you of your respective postitions. You didn't listened, instead, you uttered words Jason both wished and dreaded to hear.

You loved him.

He asked of you to never say these words to him again, and without another word he took your hand and led you back home as he tried to ignore your quiet sobs.

Despite your promises, he catches you trying to climb out over one of the garden walls during your courting ball. Jason wanted to strangle you, not that he enjoyed watching you dance with all those idiot nobles while all he wanted to do was to take you and carry you somewhere where there only be the two of you. This can't go on much longer, he has to end things tonight. Jason takes on a quest, to slay creatures in the southern forest. Surely you'll understand eventually...that the distance is good for both of you.

Months go by, and the pain the red knight felt when leaving you felt bearable. The other soldiers in his unit were curious as to why the infamous red knight left such prestigious position. Some speculated it was because the position was too peaceful and the dead son of Wayne was hungry for blood. If only they knew the true reason he left, but it was for the better. No one needs to know. One day, a messenger arrived, bearing a letter that stated there was an attack on the baron's family. The baron and his wife were badly injured and you were missing.

How was this possible?! You were supposed to be safe here! Without missing even a single second, Jason rode his horse tirelessly to the city. He will find you, and whoever took you will pay for every scratch he finds on you with their life. When he rescues you from your kidnappers, you're barely conscious. Gently, he pics up your weakened body and carefully carries you over the dead bodies lying everywhere. When he brings you back home, as he always done, he is adamant to never leave your side, no matter what takes. With heart full of determination, he asks, no, demands your hand in marriage. His name, his fief, his sword and his hearth, all of it is yours.

The baron is wise enough to give Sir Jason his blessings. After all, who's better for his daughter than a man who is able to set the world ablaze to safe her?

Art: Crown; Katerina Kirillova

Tags: @thinkingofausername, @fir3flytv, @ivysangel, @cherrrysstuff, @xxgoblin-dumplingxx, @mostly-imagines , @applejuicebegood

[hacash]

crabsandlobsters reblogged whisperofwillows laurelhach Followyou know what i’ll use my own imagination for a while#shit britain#no this feels correct123,932 notes

hippity-hoppity-brigade reblogged scienceandstarlight cryptotheism FollowBeing an adult means sharing space with assholes. There's gonna be shit you need to do, and the only way to get it is by working with one or more huge assholes. They're not evil. They're not gonna hurt you. Usually they're not even bad people, they're just assholes. And you gotta know how to share space with em. cryptotheism Being an adult means accepting that you're an asshole sometimes. You can try your very best, and still come off like a huge asshole. It's just gonna happen. You gotta know how to say "Hey man, I was being an asshole. Sorry about that. Won't happen again." unculture Followhope it's okay to add concrete advice here, re: being the asshole. just one line that has saved me so much energy wasted on trying to "seem normal" when i have a problem, without having to dump my emotions on whoever is unlucky enough to be dealing with me in a service role."i apologize for my tone. i'm very frustrated, but i know it isn't your fault, personally. please bear with me."i can't *guarantee* that this will get the 99th person in the phone maze on your team enough that they are motivated to heroically solve your health insurance problem, but i am telling you anecdotally that sometimes, that's exactly what happens.#that's a helpful script30,726 notes

notajoinerofthings reblogged

fluentisonusFollow

The Ruin, Anonymous Old English Poem, trans R.M. Liuzza

haustafallFollow

This poem is commonly thought to be about the city of Bath in England! Bath is famous for its natural hot springs and waters said to have healing properties; the hot springs have been in use since pre-Roman times. During the Roman occupation of Britain, the Romans built a huge bathhouse around the natural heated water source dedicated to Minerva—the site was called Aquae Sulis.

Once the Romans withdrew from Britain, sites like Aquae Sulis were left to decay and crumble. The ruins of the bathhouse would have been incredibly impressive for an Old English poet to look upon; remember that these were the Dark Ages for Britain because so so much knowledge was lost, gone with the leaving of the Romans and the slow degradation of craftsmanship, of architecture, as development fell into a rut. They did not know how to build things like the Roman bathhouse any more. That knowledge was gone.

So when the poet looks up to that “bright capital of a broad kingdom”, he is not only seeing the loss of a civilisation but the loss of knowledge. He is looking back at what he would have seen as a golden past—ruins of buildings built as if by giants—knowing these were his ancestors. Knowing he could not replicate what they had made.

I went searching in the notes for this explanation so I wouldn’t have to write one out for myself! we have a different translation in a book. Today, bath is a famed and characterful city and a UNESCO World Heritage site; you can visit the remains of the Roman bath and have a spa day at the still-boiling hot springs. It makes you realize how history is so big. Empires rise and fall; this poet, in Old English, grappled with that in his time as we will grapple with ours. The hot springs remain. The earth continues. The stones are so golden.

maniculumFollow

Also, and this has been thoroughly pointed out by various scholars— there’s something interesting and, in a bittersweet way, appealing about the way that this poem, which is about an ancient ruin, is now from our perspective also ancient, also ruined. A poem that mourns something lost to time is itself lost to time — the missing words cannot be recovered.

The manuscript looks like this:

The going theory, as I understand it, is that someone set a hot iron on the Exeter Book — the manuscript that contains the only copy of this poem and many others — sometime in the medieval period. Today, the Exeter Book is arguably one of the most important manuscripts in the English language, a foundational source for English literature pre-1066. But it’s got all sorts of random damage that points to a period of time where it was treated as “convenient large flat object”, possibly because the people who owned it at one point could no longer read the archaic language and therefore didn’t really see it as useful or important.

The burn is the most egregious of this damage, and it’s oddly resonant that “The Ruin” is included in the burnt pages.

#rolling my eyes at the part that is like middle ages = dark ages#the juxtaposition of present & past and the reflections on how everything (even beauty and great achievements!) must come to an end one day#as well as the preoccupation with great civilisations of the past that have since fallen into decay#these are just fundamentally human thoughts & sentiments in my opinion#and you find them in many cultures and at many times throughout history#they are not exactly unique or restricted to people in early medieval england bc everything was so terrible and dark (tm) back then#(not to mention the possible allegorical reading of the poem)#but the rest of this post is beautiful <3 (via @notajoinerofthings)

The Ruin, Anonymous Old English Poem, trans R.M. Liuzza

[gremlingottoosilly]

That Unwanted Animal [COD Fantasy AU] CursedKnight!Ghost x fem!Reader

Ghost was cursed ever since his king helped him get back to life from his grave. A stench of death, strong and inescapable, renders him unable to find a woman who will be willing to bed him. What will happen when he finally finds a perfect mate? CW and Tags: Dub-con, power imbalance, Medieval Fantasy AU, knight!Ghost, servant!Reader, sex work, brothels, dub-con kissing and touching, obsessive Ghost, dark Ghost, basically Ghost finds a girl and forces her to be his, Ghost is a half-dead resurrected knight, soft reader, submissive Reader.

AO3 Word Count: 2209

“I won’t go to him, he smells!”

“Drop the act, princess, not even half of our guests reek of anything more than their drinks and foul meat.” 

“You know how he smells, Katherine. You know what he is.” “What he is, is a client. Rich one. Do you wish to moan under the belly of another failing merchant? Or a peasant’s dick is more to your liking?” “I bring this place more than half of its earnings! I won’t bed a man who has barely got out of his grave and should be put back!” Ghost sighs, his head pressed against the wooden wall. For a brothel, this place has remarkably thin walls. For a brothel, girls out here have remarkably potent noses – and acquired tastes for anything that doesn’t taste like a man who was brought back to life with dead souls still clinging onto every inch of his very being. 

For a man of his regals – the blessed knight, the cursed knight, the kiss-your-enemies-goodnight, the spill-your-blood-he might, he has a particular choice in the brothel he tried to entertain himself with. Not like any willing woman would bed him without a sum of gold enough to feed a family for months – and not like he stood low enough to force himself on poor servants of his castle, bringing his dignity and family name down with each handmaiden he tried to grope while on meeting with the king. 

“Do you think he is really dead?” “Dead man wouldn’t need a cunt to drown himself in. He had to have something working.” “Maybe he likes to watch? Or to hurt.” “Maybe, we can’t afford to turn him down, princess. Drop your act before he is willing to burn us down for refusing him.” “Well, I heard he went through every brothel in town. Not a single soul bedded him!” “I heard he doesn’t even like girls. Has his royal knight by his side all day.” “He came alone.” “He will be coming alone for the rest of his life with a smell like this!” “Dark magic. King should have known to not trust the Empire and their lurkings.” “Having a blessed knight is good, no? We’re not at war.” “Cursed knight is good in your army, not your bed. But if you are so willing…”

He hears women – from the madam of this fine place, a woman of fine manners, exquisite figure, and the way of looking at him that almost convinces that she doesn’t want to press her fingers against her nose, blocking the smell of death that follows him ever since he became…that. He hears girls of not-so-fine manners, with fine bodies and perfect pretty faces, gentle hands that don’t know about the trials of war. He remembers the way they looked at him – the way they always looked at him. 

Scary, horrendous, dangerous. A skull mask and dark tendrils of smoke follow his body, the Grim Reaper himself embedded in his dark armor. No matter how many perfumes he uses, no matter how many washes per day he forces himself onto, nothing can hide the stench of death. He thought he’d be fine with it as long as his battle brothers were with him – as long as he was with them. 

Then he got lonely. 

Finding a lay in the brothel would be a scandal for a man of his status – but Simon Riley is no man. Not anymore, at least. 

“I bet he wears a mask because he is hideous.” “Maybe he is just wounded?” “What kind of wound would make him hide his face while not being hideous?” “Maybe, he just doesn’t want to show his face here.” “No use. By the dawn, all women in the capital will know about great lord Riley, refuced at every brothel.” “What if he kills us?” “What if he burns us?” “What if he…” “Let the servant bring him tea. Make her useful.” Before he could react – as if eavesdropping on a bunch of whores was something of a pleasant chore he was dealing with – a door to his room had opened. Girl, in much simpler clothes than the ones that courtesans were wearing. With a tea tray in her shaky hands, grabbing the poor thing like there was no tomorrow. Huh. Perhaps, with a mug like his as her client, there is no tomorrow for a poor girl. 

Ghost sits on the bed, large, muscular legs spread, his dick swaying with attention the longer he is looking at your face. He can’t be picky, not in his state as a not-dead not-man, but he has to admit that you’re pretty. Without all the mannerisms of a prostitute, you look like a poor deer stuck in the predator’s den. Your hands are shaking – but he looks at your face, having no shame in drinking up your expression like a vampire – and he didn’t once saw you wince at the smell. Hm. Must be potent tea you’re serving. 

— I didn’t ask for the tea. 

Rude, as always – he didn’t come here to be ridiculed by poor attempts at pleasing him without a girl under him, getting her pretty legs open for his cock. He didn’t intend to come here and listen to all of the workers laughing at him like he was a monster – yet, he can’t leave now, his wounded ego grows into something ugly. 

— Most of our clients prefer to drink this before the…act. It makes them more potent, as they say. 

His cock didn’t have any warm body to dump his semen in years. He doesn’t need tea to make him hard – he sees the glimpse of your skin under those simple robes of yours, and he can already feel it stir, standing up for attention. 

— You don’t sound too certain. Your client must not drink it then. 

— I…I am not a prostitute, sir. Merely a servant. 

He knows already – your makeup is too plain, your manners are off, your clothes are simple grey wool with not a dash of color. If you were his – as a prostitute, a wife, a lover – he would bring you something much brighter and skimpier. You’d look good in silks, he thinks. 

Not like you’d allow him to bring you home – not willingly, at least. 

— So I figured, love. You’re pretty enough to be one, that’s clear. 

“You’re pretty enough to be a prostitute” is a compliment that only sounds good in the head of a man who hasn’t talked sweetly to a woman in ages. His whole life, perhaps, exchanging the embrace of a lady with tight hugs of the war. 

— You’re flattering me, sir. 

— Bloody hell, woman. Not a flattery if that’s the truth. 

— If you say so. 

You shift under his gaze like a rabbit in front of an apex predator. Ghost doesn’t want to force any woman to sleep with him – but he looks at the sway of your chest, at the softness of your hips, at the way you tug and scratch on the rough fabric of your skirt as you’re too nervous to look at him…

He must contain himself. 

— Why you work as a servant? 

— I…tried to be a prostitute, sir. Most clients here don’t like it when you’re not…

He slowly rocks his body closer to you, his head almost laying on your shoulder. He saw the way you looked at him as he leaned to you – you’re surprised, scared, but not disgusted. your nose didn’t twitch a single time, and he is sure that no tea would ever make you this blind to the stench of death lingering on your shoulder now. 

There must be something wrong with you – and he wants to save you like a rare treasure because of it. 

— Most clients here don’t like what, luv? 

— I…have damage, sir. 

So he figured. Just didn’t exactly know what you have. 

— What is it? 

— A…after a bad cold, my sense of smell…never returned. Not for the last three years. 

— You don’t smell anythin’? Must be bloody hard. 

— It is. But…I manage. As much as I can. 

He slowly drapes his hand over your shoulder – you wince at the touch. He thinks of the madam of your fine establishment. The woman didn’t seem the type to beat her girls, but you had such a shy, scared expression as he started to touch you, he can’t wait to burn this fucking place to the ground. Maybe spare a few of your friends if you’d ask him nicely. You won’t be working here again, ever – that much he can be sure of. 

— Doin’ a good job, love. 

— I hope so, sir. 

He drags his hand on your face, squeezing the soft skin of your cheek. You’re adorable – servants shouldn’t be so pretty, it makes him feel bad, it makes him sinful. He should try to hit on the girls who actually work here – not the poor soul that as sent here to bring him here, as a little lam sacrificed to a vicious god. 

— You don’t smell me, then? 

— I don’t smell anything, my lord. 

He chuckles, but your pained expression only makes him chuckle more. Poor thing, living in a place like this without a sense of smell – he can’t believe how you could survive without the smell of heavy incense and creams that all of the whores were using. He loves it when a pretty girl is making herself even prettier – makeup, all of those little elixirs they are putting on their faces, the flowery smells that make his rotting existence a bit easier. It never worked on him, on his disintegrating skin and stench that followed him everywhere – but then it dawned on him. 

You have such an adorable, shy smile and a small posture, playing with the edges of your clothes like a girl who is extremely embarrassed to be in a room with a man of his position. But women aren’t shy in his presence, not anymore – they are disgusted, horrified, they want to put their noses into little candy boxes and smell roses just to get rid of the smell. 

But you, adorable creature, aren’t disgusted. Hell, how he missed a pretty girl being so shy around him. 

Ghost kisses you before he can think of anything else. Before he could give you space to escape, to come to your senses and understand what kind of man he is. Broken, wounded, pushed to the cage, and locked with a key dangling from the side – god knows, Simon Riley isn’t a good man, never tried to be. Devil knows, he will drag you to the grave with him. 

Your lips are soft, untouched, you smell of cleaning supplies and sweet tea. Your hair smells like roses and dust, your hands are covered in little scabs – probably from the days spent cleaning and doing the hard work. He will make sure you will never have to work again, not with your hands, at least – he will kiss your callouses and nourish the skin into something delicate, fragile, to the smell of home he lost long ago. 

Your mouth tastes like heaven, and Ghost isn’t a man who deserves to push this angel further, isn’t a man who deserves to have a pretty girl moaning under him. He makes you cry, he terrifies you, he kisses you relentlessly and can feel the way your skin burns, tears streaming down your face. If he was a better man, he would oblige to your hands, pushing him away, your mouth is trying to cry for help. 

Simon Riley isn’t a good man, and he pushes you on your back, firms hands on your back, on your hips, touching, groping, feeling the skin of a somewhat willing woman. You’re scared, but you should know the kind of job girls here are doing – he didn’t pay all of this money for charity projects, after all. As much as he would pay even more gold just to take you away, to push your legs apart in a scenery much nicer than a room in a brothel. You deserve a real bed, a nice dress that he can rip away from you, 

All you get is his hands on your body, ripping your simple skirt apart because he can’t wait to get to the soft skin underneath. He looks at you, precious girl, as adorable as you are, and can’t resist kissing you, stealing breath from your skin. When he finally hears you moan, when his hand goes to grab the softness between your legs – moist, prepared, smelling of roses and arousal, of all things sweet and sinful – all of his sense of self-control shatters. 

He will take you on the floor of this room – over and over, claim you as his little maiden, his favorite girl, until he is sure his cursed, rotten seed has filled you to the brim. He will take you away, bringing as much money to your madam as he can manage, buying you all for himself – taking you as his prized possession for the new castle he was ordered to as a lord knight. 

Ghost will make you his, hells and heaven be damned. 

You cry, but he knows you’ll come around. And he can be very, very patient. 

[yeollie-plz]

Promises.

Joel Miller x F! Reader

Synopsis: In a world where gender roles have been reestablished, Joel continues to save you.

Genre: fluff, smut, angst

Warnings: no outbreak but different outbreak?, i can't explain it, established relationship, Y/N insert, p in v sex, unprotected sex, forced marriage, kissing, mentions of alcoholism and abusive relationships, explosions, pet names, kissing, orgasm denial, breeding kink?, rough sex, spanking, hair pulling

All gif credits to owners!

A/N: Once again writing from a dream I had, idk why I get such vivid dreams sometimes but its honestly so fun!

Also! I am so sorry that I haven't written something in so long, I had literally no motivation. But I hope you didn't miss me too much! And hey, I'm coming back with a bang! (literally, in a few aspects)

When the world almost ended 20 years ago, the government had to issue new laws. Laws that matched up women to men, in order to ensure the repopulation of the human race.

If you were of age, you were matched and married, the man basically owned you. It was very medieval in concept and for a lot also in practice. But for you, it brought you Joel who had slowly but surely became your whole world.

He was kind and took care of you. Nothing like the horror stories you would hear from the other women. He wanted to protect you and let you take your time to warm up to him.

When you finally admitted you liked him he was overjoyed. He had kissed you but took his time with everything else. He knew it was your first time and he wanted to make sure you felt safe and loved. Joel was good and you couldn't be more happy with who was chosen for you.

The world, although now different and strange was the world you had to live in. You had to stay home, unless accompanied by Joel. The goal to repopulate the earth after an alien race tried to take over and wiped out half the population was going well. But with less humans and more aliens taking up living here, it wasn't the safest anymore.

Everyone was assigned a job, a person to marry, and a home to live in. It was organized with the goal of integrating humans and the aliens. And it was working as well as it could be. In the beginning it was rough but after so many years people were getting used to the new world order.

There, of course, was still some rebel groups out there. Women who wanted freedom, aliens who didn't want to be a part of earth, and humans who didn't want them either. Riots would happen here and there because of these rebel groups. But you? You were safe with Joel, you knew that, and you trusted him fully.

You woke to the sun shining in through the large windows that lined your apartment. One good thing about being assigned housing was that most were very nice. Rolling over you were met with an empty bed, Joel was no where to be found. There was no sound coming from the connected bathroom, and just as you were about to get out of bed in search of him there was a crash in the kitchen.

Out of instinct you threw the seats off of you and ran into the kitchen. Only to be met with Joel bent down on the floor cleaning up a broken plate.

"Joel?" You questioned, the shock now leaving your voice and being replaced by amusement.

"Hi baby." He said sheepishly as he picked up the last few shards.

"You okay?"

"Yep, just trying to make you breakfast a failing miserably, the usual." He shrugs and throws the shards away before leaving his mess for a second to give you a kiss on the cheek.

"It's the thought the counts." You smile at him while watching while he finishes up his cleaning.

You sit at the counter, watching him intently. After he finishes cleaning he returns to the stove. You hum to yourself as you watch him. The way his back flexes as he moves his arms makes you bite your lip.

Joel turns as you basically eye fuck him, smirking as he notices the look on your face. Placing a plate in front of you, he smiles at you, and leans across the counter for a kiss. You give him one and utter a small thank you.

After a few moments of comfortable silence, Joel spoke up, "Got a lot of cleanup at work today, someone vandalized the train station." He said almost absentmindedly.

You nod in response not being able to hide the concerned look on your face.

"What?" He questions, quickly noticing.

"It's just-" You set down your fork, "-it was probably one of the rebels and I just don't want you to be put in danger."

He smiles lovingly at you, "I'm sure they won't be anywhere near it anymore, it was just some spray paint. Besides, you don't think I can protect myself?"

"No, I know you can protect yourself. But you'll just want to protect everyone else as well, then you'll get yourself in trouble."

Joel lets out a half scoff half laugh at your statement. He knows you are right, he is a protector by nature. He grabs your hand, pulling it towards him in an attempt to draw your eyes to his.

"The only person I want to protect is you. Sure, I will help the guys if they need it but my main goal is always to come home to you." Kissing your knuckles, he puts your hand down.

"Promise?"

"Promise."

It had been a few hours since Joel had left for work. You did what you did most days which included some cleaning with a lot of relaxing. As you were settling down on the couch after cleaning up the breakfast dishes, heavy knocking came from the front door.

The sound made you jump, the aggression of the pounds sent chills down your spine. You usually weren't one to open the door when Joel wasn't home but you did like to at least see who is was.

So, as another set of knocks sounded on the heavy wood door, you dragged your ice cold body towards it. Your feet felt like lead as you stood straight to see clearly out of the peep hole.

On the other side was your neighbor, Jill. Jill had always been nice to you, yet you didn't really like her husband. He was arrogant and rude to say the least. But as Jill stood on the other side of the door, you could see fear etching her face. She shook as she glanced back and forth down the hallway. It was almost like she thought someone was following her.

After a few seconds of debating what to do and watching Jill secretively, you decided that whatever was happening to her was important enough to help. Girls had to stick together, especially when your world had become what it was.

Just as Jill was about to pound on the door again, you opened it slowly revealing yourself to her. She seemed almost shocked that you had answered.

"Jill?" You questioned trying to snap her out of her trance enough for her to explain.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know what else to do." She looked at you with pleading eyes and you knew this was something serious.

"Come in, I'll get you something to drink. Maybe some tea?" You weren't sure what else to do but when you were anxious you liked a nice warm tea, maybe Jill did too. She nods at your suggestion and enters the house.

You close the door behind the two of you. Telling her to make herself comfortable while you made her tea.

When you returned to the living room with a nice cup of tea, Jill was still stood in the entrance of your apartment. Arms crossed like she was trying to protect herself.

Slowly you made your way over to her, holding out the mug to her. She took it after a beat or two of staring at it.

"Please, sit down. Take your time, you can tell me what happened." She looked up from the mug to you as you spoke and nodded tentatively, but did what you said anyway.

Silence washed over the two of you and stayed there for almost three whole minutes. You weren't sure what to do so you kept glancing around like something on walls would tell you what to do.

Suddenly she placed her mug down on the coffee table. Your head snapped towards her, you had almost forgotten why she was here. Something had clearly happened and you were curious what.

"I'm sorry for coming over here so abruptly, it's terrible of me to put you in this position." She said with a sigh.

"It's no problem. I can tell you aren't doing great so I'd like to be there for you if I can be." You offer a smile which she almost returns.

"Uh well how do I put this?" She sits and thinks for a second.

"My match...my match isn't such a good fit. He isn't a good person. Since the wedding day he has gotten drunk almost every night. He gets angry and yells and breaks things. He's just a bad person. Even not drunk he isn't a good person." You nod along to the things she's saying. you've heard of bad matches but nothing this bad.

"Well for a while I put up with it. I mean what else am I going to do? This is what had been chosen for me. He didn't always take it out on me too, he would yell at nothing or himself. But eventually it was turned towards me. Nothing I did was right and no matter how hard I worked to keep everything perfect he'd find something wrong with it." Tears are beginning to form in the corners of her eyes the longer she tells you about her husband.

All you can do is sit there and listen, unsure of how to respond. You've never seen Joel angry, let alone as angry as she is describing her husband.

After taking a moment to compose herself, Jill continues, "He would yell and call me names. Tell me how worthless I am and he would throw things, break things. He never got physical with me so I took it. I took the names, I took the insults, all of it. But I couldn't take it anymore, I tried to stand up for myself. And-and-" She chokes up not able to finish her sentence.

This is when you reach out your arm to touch her shoulder. An attempt at a reassuring gesture that just has her jumping back instead. She recovers and looks up at you with apologetic eyes. You give a small smile back.

"He hurt me, badly. I thought he wouldn't stop, it just kept happening. I think I blacked out because when I came to he was gone. I didn't know what else to do so I came over here. I think I should go to the hospital but I can't go without him. I just don't know what to do." She was fully crying now, her words almost indiscernible as she sobbed.

You offered her a tissue which she took and sobbed even more into. Unsure if you should try and comfort her again, you decided it was better to try and this time she didn't shy away. Instead she leaned into the touch and you stroked her shoulder slowly. The action seemed to calm her down remarkably and she eventually calmed down enough that you felt it was a good time to finally respond.

"I'm so sorry this happened to you. I'm so sorry we don't get choices or options. I'm so sorry we are forced to submit to insane ideals and insane people." She lets out another sob. "Listen, Joel doesn't work too far from here and if you think you are strong enough we can go to him and he can take you to the hospital. As long as we have a man with us, they should treat you."

"You mean...go out alone."

You debate what you had just suggested, I guess you had suggested going out alone but it wouldn't be too far of a journey.

"It's not too far and we aren't alone we have each other. We can wear disguises if it makes you feel better. I just want to be able to get you the help you need."

"Are you sure Joel will help me?"

You nod, "If I ask him, he will do it."

She frowns a bit at your statement, you didn't realize how perfect you were making your relationship seem after she just poured her heart out to you.

"Listen, he will help, I promise."

So, the two of you donned some hood and masks in an attempt to cover your hair and feminine features. You also gave Jill an ice pack to soothe her injuries for the time being.

"Ready?" You glanced at her trying to decipher what she was thinking. She stood there still looking very guarded. "Here, we can hold hands, make sure the other doesn't get lost." You offer your hand to her with a smile, she smiles back and takes it.

Leaving your apartment the two of you make your way to the ground floor. It wasn't often that you left the apartment but when you did it was obviously always accompanied by Joel. Something about leaving on your own felt freeing but very scary at the same time.

The train station was a short walk from your building, maybe half a block. Joel always told you exactly where he was working that day and what he was doing. You liked to hear his stories of the outside world and it made you feel safe to know he was safe.

As the two of you got closer to the bustling crowds trying to catch their trains, you felt Jill tense up next to you. You glance at her and squeeze her hand tighter. This draws her attention to you.

"Not far now, we'll be fine."

You didn't know how much you would regret this sentence because as soon as you caught sight of Joel's salt and pepper hair an explosion busted out the wall a mere hundred or so feet to the left of you.

Through the hole in the wall came a group of rebel aliens, screaming and yelling something. With how loud and close the explosion was you ears were ringing. You glanced around at the crowd who was now running around in fear. Trying to catch a glimpse of your husband in the mess, you felt a hand tug yours. Looking down you saw Jill on the ground, curled into herself. She was crying again.

You jumped into action trying to pull her up so no one stepped on her, but she wouldn't budge. "Jill please, get up we need to get somewhere safer!"

She still didn't move, you looked around desperately. Either you were going to find Joel or someone else that could help. That's when you caught a glimpse of him. There was no way he could hear you over the yells and chaos but you called his name anyway.

And it was almost like his ears were trained to hear your voice and your voice alone because not long after beginning to call out to him, he locked eyes with him. He took a double take, convincing himself it wasn't really you. Then his eyebrows furrowed realizing he wasn't imagining things and quickly pushed through the crowd towards you.

He was now stood in front of you, your face in his hands as he looked you over. "Baby what are you doing here? Are you okay? Are you hurt?"

The questions came quickly, too quickly to answer so you nodded instead.

"Joel, I'm fine. I came to get your help and then the explosion..." You trailed off not sure how to explain yourself now that you had put yourself in such danger.

"Tell me later, come on, I gotta get you out of here." He tries to drag you out but you pull him back, stopping him.

"I can't go, we need to get Jill."

"Jill? Our neighbor, Jill?" You nod and gesture to her still on the ground.

He looks confused but doesn't question it, instead he walks over to Jill.

"Jill? Can you walk?" She shakes her head no.

"Can I carry you, we really need to get somewhere safe." She takes minute and eyes him closely, trying to decide if he was trustworthy. Finally, she nods.

So he picks her up carefully and turns to you, "Hold onto my shirt and don't let go." You nod and grab ahold of the plaid shirt he was currently wearing.

That's how the three of you made your way out of the chaos. But Joel didn't stop until you were at least a block away from the danger before stopping and setting Jill carefully down onto her shaking legs.

You quickly made your way to her to help her stabilize herself and when she did you looked back at Joel. His back was turned to you and his hands were in his hair. He wasn't happy, you knew that, so you didn't speak just kept trying to calm down Jill.

Finally he turned back around, eyes filled with something you had never seen before. At least something you had never seen in Joel.

He breathed deeply, "I need to get you home." He said simply.

"Okay, but Jill needs to go to the hospital first."

"What?" The curtness of his voice had you reeling back a bit, was he angry? You had never really seen Joel angry before, not at you at least.

Joel pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to calm himself before he said something he would regret.

"We will take her to the hospital, make sure she is in safe hands, then we are going home."

"But what if she needs me?" The look on his face at your response should've had you stopping at 'but', so you just nodded.

And that's what you did. Made sure Jill was in safe hands and that her family was called to help her and you were dragged home. It was less than twenty minutes before Joel was pushing you back out the door and dragging you home.

You didn't protest but you also didn't know what to say to him. So as the two of you entered your apartment, you went to explain yourself. Instead your explanations were muffled by Joel's lips on yours. The kiss was desperate, like he was unsure you were really there. Maybe unsure you were really okay?

"Joel-" You mumble into his lips as he doesn't stop kissing yours. A grunt sounds from him as he hears you say his name.

He doesn't want to talk it seems because his lips stay on yours and his hands find the back of your thighs lifting you up into arms. You help him by jumping and wrapping your legs around his hips. Your arms find their place behind his neck.

Joel carries you through the apartment, lips never letting up. They only disconnect as he drops you onto your bed and quickly takes off his shirt. Leaning back over you his knee is placed between your legs and you gasp at how close he is, his body heat, making you feel even warmer than you already did.

"I thought I lost you." He says simply but you can see in his eyes he really means those words.

But you don't have a chance to respond because his lips are back on you. This time trailing down your jaw to your neck, only to be stopped by the fabric of your shirt. Joel lets out another grunt as he grabs the bottom of shirt and quickly whips it off of you like it had offended him.

As soon as the shirt is off of you his lips are back on your neck, now trailing to the places he really wanted to get to. Your bra is unclasped quicker than you can even process what is happening. His mouth instantly biting at the sensitive skin of your breast, biting at it only a bit before licking down to your nipple.

You gasp as his mouth latches onto the sensitive bud. You hadn't realized how turned you were until that moment. Sure you wanted this, you always wanted Joel but the danger of the day was catching up with you. Now you needed him, needed to feel protected, loved.

"Joel please, I-" Hearing you beg had him unlatching his mouth from your breast and looking up at you.

For almost the first time in an hour he finally addresses you, "What do you want baby?"

"You Joel, I need you. I-I'm sorry." The apology wasn't what he was asking for but it was what he needed to hear because as soon as those two words left your lips he was returning his attention to your chest.

He now attached himself to your other breast, giving that nipple what it had been missing. His hands worked at the button of your pants, undoing it and the zipper quickly. He shoved them down your legs with your help, lips never leaving your flushed skin.

As soon as your pants were down his hands were playing with the hem of your underwear. The thin fabric causing his touches to feel even more intense as he teased you just a bit. But he knew neither of you could wait much longer so he pushed them to the side and started stroking your clit.

Slow circles at first which had you arching your back, chest pushed even farther into his mouth as he continued to take care of both of your nipples. He stroked your clit a few more times before letting his fingers dip further down, teasing your slit.

You were wet, very wet, so they slid easily against you and you gasped. You could feel him smirk against your nipple. But this time he detached himself from it and returned his mouth to yours.

He worked a finger into you in time with your kissing. Then two, then three. They curved against your insides, you moaned into the kiss and bit down on his lip as he brushed the perfect spot inside of you.

Your head tossed back as you got closer to your peak the more he stroked you g spot. When you gripped his shoulders, nails digging into his skin enough to draw blood, he pulled his fingers out of you. Leaving you at the brink of an orgasm. You let out a whine as your head snapped back up to look at him.

"I don't like punishing you, doll, but tonight you're gonna need some discipline." You didn't argue just let your head drop slightly. He brought his down and caught your lips in his, forcing your head back up.

You didn't notice but he had unbuckled his jeans and pushed them and his underwear down just enough to let his member loose. He doesn't take your panties off either, instead he leaves them how they were when he was fingering you as his tip teases your entrance. You were still very sensitive from your denied orgasm so your hips jerked up at the contact.

He pretended not to notice and slapped his dick onto your clit, causing you to buck up once again. He pulled back, eyes searching yours. Joel had this look about him when the two of you had sex, something between dominance and love but right now it was a fire. One you hadn't seen before and it made you nervous but oh so excited. It had you gushing between your legs.

You bit your lip as his tip pushed past your entrance, sliding in easily with how wet you were, not to mention his thick fingers being there only minutes earlier.

"Always so tight." Joel grunts as he hilts himself fully inside of you. He stays like that reveling in the feeling before slowly pulling himself almost fully out of you just to snap his hips forward back into you.

He continues this and it is so aggressive that you need to grip onto his shoulders again for any form of support. He had never fucked you like this before. It had your brain fogging up with pleasure.

Your peak catches up with you quickly. You whimper, needing the release you have been waiting for. Joel notices and brings his thumb down to rub your clit a few times. Your heart swells thinking he is going to let you cum. But it is too good to be true because just as you begin to clench around him he is pulling away and out of you.

"Told you, you need to remember how to be a good girl first." The name has you swallowing a lump in your throat.

"I am Joel, please, I need you inside me." He stutters at your words, but recovers quickly, flipping you over onto your stomach.

"You don't just get to cum whenever you want, gonna have to work for it pretty girl." He kneads your ass as he speaks, clearly liking his new view.

"I'll do anything." You speak so quietly, Joel almost misses it. A dark chuckle leaves his lips.

"Want you to suck my dick so badly right now, you have no idea. But this-" His hand lands onto your round ass with a smack, "-this is too tempting right now."

Another smack and his member is returning between your legs as he pushes into you. You moan loudly at the intrusion, constantly getting more and more sensitive the more he denies you of what you need.

He thrusts in an out of you at the same speed as earlier. When his hips snap into yours, he lands a smack onto your ass. He relishes the feeling of you sucking him in each time he spanks you. The feeling causing you to clench onto his dick.

The hand not making your skin burn red is holding your hip so tightly the skin is turning white, you there will be bruises there tomorrow. Hell, at this rate you'll have all kinds of marks tomorrow.

"Want to fill you up, need to see you full of my cum." Although you knew what had gotten into Joel, you had never seen this side of him and it was almost jarring how much of a change it was. Was this the true him? Was he scared to show this side of himself? Scared you couldn't handle it? Fuck was he wrong.

"Please, I need your cum." And you decided to truly show him he was wrong. You liked this side of him and you wanted him to know that.

Joel grunted snapping his hips into yours so roughly it had you seeing stars. You could tell he was close and unsurprisingly so were you. You pushed your hips back into his and he was too far gone to deny you any longer.

"Joel, baby, please can I cum now?"

"Let go for me, I need you clench around this dick as I fill you with my seed. Want to see you all round and pregnant for me." His words send you over the edge with the orgasm you have been waiting for all night.

You clench like a vice onto his cock, the feeling sending him over his edge as well. The hand that was spanking you is sent up your spine to grip the back of your hair pulling your head back so he can attach his lips to yours.

You each moan into each other's mouths as he continues to pump you full of his seed. He works you both through your orgasms as your lips work against each other as well. Your breaths come out ragged as he finally pulls away, resting his forehead against yours.

His eyes are closed as he speaks, "Did I hurt you baby?"

"No! I uh, I actually enjoyed it very much." He laughs at your response.

"I'm glad." He pauses. "I'm sorry."

"For what?" Your brows furrow.

"For getting mad and getting rough with you, I never wanted to show you this side of me."

"Hey, look at me." He does. "I like every side of you. I should be the one apologizing right now. I got myself into danger by going against the rules."

Joel sighs and swallows the lump that was sitting in the back of his throat.

"I love you." Is all he can think to say.

"I love you." Is all you need to respond.

[jhyoos]

Of Roses And Steel

chapter five : speechless

mentions: major character death, angst, love triangle, romance, medieval au, royalty au, protective sevika, strong reader

notes : ik yall mad at me but hopefully this will redeem it…

↲ previous chapter

When you woke, the first thing you noticed was the unfamiliar scent of damp earth and the faint aroma of burning wood. You weren’t in your chambers anymore. Instead, you found yourself in a modest tent, the fabric swaying gently in the wind. The bed beneath you was crudely made of wood, but layers of thick blankets were draped over you, keeping the cold at bay.

You tried sitting up, but a deep ache spread through your body, as if every bone protested the movement. Your throat felt parched, and a hollow pang in your stomach reminded you of how long it had been since you last ate. For a moment, you simply sat there, dazed, until the muffled sounds of shouting and hurried footsteps outside the tent reached your ears.

Your heart quickened as memories came flooding back—the sparring match, Mel’s betrayal, the searing pain of the blade in your stomach. You flung the blankets off, your breath catching as you looked down at yourself. The wound was gone, the skin where the blade had pierced you now smooth and unmarred. Even your injured hand, the one Mel had cruelly targeted, was bandaged neatly and free of pain. Whoever had tended to you had done an exceptional job.

Curiosity—and fear—drove you to action. Slowly, you swung your legs over the side of the bed, your bare feet touching the cold ground. You moved to the tent’s flap, peeking through the small opening to get a glimpse of where you were.

What you saw made your stomach twist.

Outside, soldiers bustled about, their armor glinting under the overcast sky. Horses neighed and pawed at the ground as they were prepared for battle. Weapons were sharpened, arrows were fletched, and the air buzzed with tension.

Your gaze shifted beyond the camp to the horizon, and your breath caught in your throat. There, in the distance, was your castle, its proud towers rising against the sky. But something was wrong. Thick, black smoke curled upward, blotting out the clouds. The once-pristine white walls were marred with scorch marks, and the faint echo of shouting and clashing steel reached your ears.

Suddenly, a deafening boom shook the ground beneath you. The noise rattled the tent poles, and your heart leapt into your throat. Your eyes snapped back to the castle just in time to see an explosion tear through one of the outer walls. Rubble flew into the air, and the sky seemed to darken further as chaos unfolded before your eyes.

A war was happening.

You stumbled back into the tent, your mind racing. How had this happened? How long had you been unconscious? And, more importantly, where were your father, Sevika, and Vi?

You sat down on the wooden bed, pulling the blankets tightly around yourself as if they could shield you from the nightmare unfolding around you. The ache in your bones and the distant sounds of war felt surreal, like a dream you were desperate to wake from. You closed your eyes, silently pleading for everything to vanish when the faint sound of the tent flap being drawn back startled you.

A figure stepped inside, and your heart skipped a beat. It was Sevika, clad in her full armor. Her chest plate bore scratches and soot stains, and her face showed exhaustion, but her eyes… her eyes softened the moment they landed on you. Relief washed over her features, her expression melting into something almost tender—something you hadn’t seen from her in what felt like forever.

She crouched down before you, balancing on the balls of her feet as her hand braced the edge of the bed for support. Her piercing gaze studied you as if she couldn’t believe you were real, her lips curving into a faint, shaky smile. “You’re awake,” she said, her voice low and filled with emotion.

“I guess I am,” you replied weakly, your voice hoarse. You couldn’t even find the strength to return her smile. “How long… how long have we been at war? And with who?”

Sevika sighed, running a gloved hand over her face. The fatigue in her movements betrayed just how long she’d been carrying the weight of the battle. “Noxus,” she said finally. “Mel… and her mother, Ambessa. They’ve been planning this for years, waiting for the right moment to strike. You’ve been asleep for a few weeks now.”

Your heart sank. “Weeks?” you whispered, dread curling in your stomach. “And… my wounds?”

Her jaw tightened slightly before she looked away, her voice dropping lower. “Shimmer,” she admitted. “Don’t ask me how it works. I don’t know what it is either, but your father… he gave it to me. He said it was the only thing that could save you.”

“My father…” The words barely made it out of your mouth, your heart now pounding with fear. “Where is he?”

Sevika didn’t respond right away. She looked at you, her steely demeanor faltering as something deeply vulnerable flickered across her face. Her lips parted, and for a moment, you could see how much it pained her to deliver the next words. “He’s dead, Your Majesty.”

The world seemed to stop. The tent around you blurred, and the only thing you could hear was the deafening echo of her words. “Dead?” you repeated, your voice breaking. Your chest tightened, and it felt like the air was being ripped from your lungs. “Oh god… oh god…”

You couldn’t hold it in any longer. The tears came fast and hard, falling freely down your face as you clutched your chest, trying to steady your ragged breathing. This wasn’t a nightmare. It was real. Your father—the man who had been your guide, your protector, your family—was gone.

Sevika reached out and gently took your hand, her large, calloused fingers carefully rubbing soothing circles over your palm. Her touch was steady, grounding, even as you fell apart in front of her. “I’m sorry,” she murmured softly. “I’m so sorry.”

But you couldn’t bear it. The grief was too heavy, the weight of everything too much. You pulled your hand away from hers, curling in on yourself as sobs wracked your body. “Please… just leave me alone,” you managed to choke out, your voice barely above a whisper.

Sevika hesitated, lingering as if debating whether to argue or to stay and comfort you, but she respected your wishes. With a reluctant nod, she rose to her full height, the weight of her armor creaking softly as she adjusted it. She glanced at you one last time, her face unreadable, before turning and slipping out of the tent, leaving you to your sorrow.

You knew you couldn’t afford to stand there and wallow in your grief—not now. It’s not what your father would have wanted. He would’ve told you to rise, to stand tall even when the weight of the world was pressing down on your shoulders. So, after the tears had run their course, leaving your face streaked and your chest aching, you forced yourself to get out of the bed. Your legs felt like they could give out at any moment, but you willed them to move.

Steeling yourself, you pushed the blankets aside and shuffled to the opening of the tent. Poking your head out cautiously, you searched for Sevika. The camp was bustling with activity—soldiers preparing for the next phase of war, the clinking of weapons being sharpened, the low hum of conversations that buzzed like static. Amid it all, Sevika stood just outside your tent, leaning against a wooden post, cigarette in hand.

She noticed you immediately. Her sharp eyes softened for a moment before she dropped the cigarette to the ground, extinguishing it under her boot. Without hesitation, she made her way over to you, her heavy armor clinking faintly as she moved.

“How?” you asked, your voice trembling as you stared at her, hoping for some explanation that would make it all hurt less.

Sevika hesitated briefly before responding, her tone steady but grim. “Ambessa. Gun to the head,” she said simply, not sugarcoating the brutal truth. “We didn’t have time to mourn for long. We gave him a proper burial before we had to evacuate. He’s right beside your mother, by the willow tree.”

Your breath hitched at her words, and for a moment, you felt another wave of sorrow rising, threatening to swallow you whole. “That’s… that’s where he always said he wanted to be,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper. The thought gave you a bittersweet comfort. At least they had honored his wishes.

Sevika nodded solemnly, watching you closely as if gauging your reaction.

“So… that means I’m queen now?” you asked, the realization finally sinking in. The words felt foreign, heavy on your tongue. Queen. The title sounded like a burden, not a triumph.

Sevika’s gaze swept over you, taking in your disheveled state—barefoot, wrapped in the blanket draped over your shoulders, and looking every bit like someone who had just woken from a nightmare. “Yes,” she said firmly, crossing her arms. “But not like this.” She gestured to you with a slight nod. “We need to get you some armor. And clothes. Something worthy of a queen who’s ready to fight.”

Her words were matter-of-fact, but there was a spark of respect in her tone, an acknowledgment of the weight you now carried. You straightened your back, drawing in a deep breath. If you were going to be queen, you had to look the part—no, be the part. Your father wouldn’t have it any other way.

Sevika led you through the camp to a large, well-constructed tent that stood apart from the others. The fabric was reinforced, and the entrance was adorned with subtle but intricate designs—a quiet declaration of your status.

“This tent was just for recovery,” Sevika said, gesturing back toward where you’d been. “This one will serve as your home until further notice.” She pulled back the flap, holding it open for you to step inside.

The interior was breathtaking. It wasn’t your castle chambers, but it had been meticulously arranged to replicate them in tent form. Rich, warm rugs covered the ground, lanterns cast a soft glow, and a sturdy bed draped with fine linens dominated the space. There was even a small desk and a wardrobe against one side. It was a strange comfort to see these remnants of your old life amidst the chaos of war.

“Apologies,” Sevika said, breaking your reverie. “You won’t have any servants to dress you, but I can get you some warm water to wash up.”

You let out a sigh of relief. “Thank god. And yes, please,” you said, managing a small smile.

She gave a firm nod, then stepped out of the tent, leaving you alone.

You turned your attention to the mini wardrobe, pulling it open to inspect its contents. Inside was a modest selection of clothing: mostly your fighting attire, with a few simple sleeping gowns tucked to one side. Then your eyes fell on something unexpected—your father’s cloaks.

You froze, your hand brushing against the familiar fabric. The sight of them sent a pang through your chest, but there was also a warmth in the gesture. This was Sevika’s doing—you were certain of it. Carefully, you took one off the rack and held it up, examining the intricate embroidery that had once symbolized his power and grace. On impulse, you brought it close to your face and inhaled deeply. It still smelled like him—a mix of leather, parchment, and faint cologne.

The flood of memories was almost too much to bear, but before you could get lost in them, a faint shuffling sound caught your attention. You turned sharply, your eyes scanning the room.

“Eros?” you called out tentatively.

From the shadows, a familiar form padded forward—a large feline with sleek fur and striking eyes. As he stepped fully into view, you gasped. It was your beloved big cat, Eros, but he had grown considerably since you last saw him. His lithe frame had filled out with muscle, and his purrs, once soft and kitten-like, now rumbled like thunder.

“Oh, you’ve gotten so big!” you exclaimed, shocked but delighted.

Eros approached with slow, deliberate steps, his tail swaying behind him. You quickly set your father’s cloak down on the bed and dropped to your knees to greet him. His massive head nuzzled into your hands, and you stroked his fur, marveling at how much he’d changed.

His deep, rumbling purrs vibrated through your palms, a soothing sound that grounded you in the moment. For the first time in what felt like ages, you smiled without effort, feeling a flicker of peace amidst the storm of your new reality.

After your bath, you took your time dressing, carefully selecting your attire. From the wardrobe, you chose a dark, fitted tunic embroidered with silver threads that mimicked the patterns of vines and stars—a nod to your kingdom’s crest. Over it, you wore a sturdy yet elegant pair of black trousers tucked into polished boots. The final touch was your father’s cloak, the rich fabric draping over your shoulders and fastening at your collarbone with the family crest embossed on a silver clasp. It was heavy but reassuring, like his presence still lingered with you.

Taking a deep breath, you stepped outside the tent, your boots crunching on the dirt below. What greeted you took your breath away.

Hundreds of soldiers stood outside, their armor polished despite the grime of war. They surrounded your tent in organized ranks, their expressions solemn and respectful. At the forefront was Sevika, standing tall with her arms crossed, her eyes filled with something that looked like pride.

The moment they saw you, the soldiers dropped to one knee in unison, their fists pressed to their chests. The sound of their collective voices echoed through the camp like thunder:

“Long live the Queen!”

The weight of their loyalty and reverence nearly overwhelmed you. You bit your lip, trying desperately to hold back your tears, but your emotions threatened to spill over. This was it—you were their Queen now. The dream you’d nurtured since you were a child, to rule and care for your people, had finally come true. All the training, all the lessons, all the sacrifices had led to this moment.

Clearing your throat, you steadied your voice and raised your hand. “Stand.”

The soldiers rose immediately, their eyes fixed on you with unwavering attention. The camp fell silent, save for the crackle of distant fires and the soft rustle of wind through the trees.

Taking a moment to collect yourself, you stood tall, your father’s cloak billowing slightly in the breeze as you began to speak.

“I stand before you today as your Queen,” you began, your voice firm but warm. “It is an honor and a responsibility that I do not take lightly. My father, King Silco, ruled this kingdom with strength, wisdom, and unwavering determination. He built a legacy that will be remembered for generations, and I vow to uphold it.”

You paused, letting your words settle over the crowd.

“This war has tested us all. It has taken from us our peace, our homes, and our loved ones. But it has not taken our resolve. Together, we will rebuild. Together, we will fight. Together, we will triumph. Because that is who we are. We are strong. We are united. And we are unstoppable.”

Your voice grew stronger as you continued, drawing courage from their attentive gazes.

“I promise you this: I will lead with honor. I will protect this kingdom and everyone within it, no matter the cost. Your sacrifices will not be in vain, and your loyalty will not go unnoticed. Together, we will see the dawn of a brighter future.”

You let your eyes scan the crowd, meeting the gazes of as many soldiers as you could. “You have my gratitude, my respect, and my unwavering loyalty. I will not fail you.”

A hush fell over the crowd as your words echoed in the air. Then, one by one, the soldiers began to cheer, the sound growing louder and louder until it filled the entire camp. They raised their fists to the sky, their voices ringing with renewed determination.

Sevika stepped closer, her lips curving into a rare smile. “You did good,” she said quietly, her voice just loud enough for you to hear over the cheers.

For the first time in what felt like ages, you allowed yourself a small smile in return. This was just the beginning.

After the celebration, the camp slowly settled into a quieter rhythm. The soldiers returned to their posts or their tents, and the clamor of voices dimmed to the occasional crackle of a fire or the clinking of armor. You approached Sevika, who stood a few feet away, inspecting her gauntlet, the faint glow of embers from her cigarette illuminating her face.

“Where’s Vi?” you asked, stepping up beside her.

She glanced at you and exhaled a cloud of smoke. “Piltover. She’s bringing more soldiers—willing ones. Vander’s paying them three times the usual rate to ensure their loyalty and determination.”

You nodded, processing the information, but before you could dwell too much on the thought, Sevika’s tone shifted slightly. “Anyway, are you hungry? It’s not much, but we’ve got beef tips and rice. Better than nothing.”

The mention of food reminded you of how long it had been since you last ate. “That would be nice,” you said, a small smile tugging at your lips.

She gave you a nod and gestured for you to follow her to the mess area. The table she led you to was modest, crafted from wooden planks and worn from years of use. She pulled out a chair for you, the action surprisingly gentle for someone as rough and stoic as Sevika.

You sat down, appreciating the gesture, and watched as she grabbed a bowl from the table nearby, ladling a hearty portion of beef tips and rice into it. She handed it to you, her fingers briefly brushing yours as you took the bowl.

“Thanks,” you said, the warmth in your voice undeniable as you met her gaze.

“No problem,” she replied with a slight smirk, leaning against the edge of the table. Her tone softened as she continued, “And… if you need someone to talk to, I’m here. I know what it’s like to lose your parents. They’d be proud to know that such a good person is their queen now.”

Her words struck something deep within you. The sincerity in her voice, the way her normally guarded expression softened for just a moment—it was enough to make your heart ache in an entirely different way. You looked at her with a mix of admiration and longing, feeling yourself fall for her all over again.

Without thinking, the words slipped from your lips, low but clear. “I would do anything to kiss you right now.”

Sevika froze for a moment, her eyebrows raising in surprise before her usual smirk returned. She tilted her head slightly, her eyes glinting with amusement. “Maybe eat first,” she teased, pushing off the table. “Then I’ll think about it.”

You couldn’t help but laugh softly as she walked away, her stride confident and effortless, leaving you with your food and the fluttering warmth in your chest. She always knew how to leave you wanting more.

The days following your coronation blurred into a rigorous routine. Sevika trained you with relentless determination, her methods demanding but effective. No matter what she threw at you—sword drills, stamina exercises, or hand-to-hand combat—you refused to quit. Your resolve impressed her, though she rarely said it outright, save for the occasional nod of approval or a brief, satisfied smirk when you executed a move perfectly.

When you weren’t training, you found solace in the woods. Eros would trot alongside you, his sleek fur glinting in the sunlight as he prowled through the underbrush. You spent hours by the lake, honing your aim by shooting at fish in the crystal-clear water. Sometimes, with luck and precision, you caught a few. The larger ones you saved for dinner, while the smaller catches were tossed to Eros, who eagerly devoured them with low, rumbling purrs of gratitude. These moments of quiet and simplicity brought you a sense of peace, a small escape from the weight of your new responsibilities.

But it wasn’t all duty and solitude. Late at night, when the camp had quieted and the only sounds were the crackling of distant fires and the rustling of leaves, you and Sevika would steal moments together. It had started unexpectedly after an intense training session. You were exhausted, sweat dripping down your brow as you leaned against a tree to catch your breath. Sevika had approached you, her usual stoic expression softening for just a second. Without warning, she leaned down and kissed you—firm, passionate, and electrifying.

From that moment on, it became a routine. Whenever you were alone, her lips would find yours, and you’d lose yourself in her. Her kisses were a mixture of tenderness and hunger, as if she were trying to protect you and claim you all at once. Each stolen moment left you breathless, craving more but knowing these private exchanges were enough to sustain you for now.

When the Piltover soldiers finally arrived, it was a sight to behold. They marched into the camp with precision, their uniforms pristine despite the long journey. Among them was the royal family, their presence both surprising and humbling. You stepped forward, determined to greet them not as a grieving daughter but as the queen you were meant to be.

As the soldiers settled into the camp, you insisted on sharing your tent with them. It was large enough to accommodate a few extra people, and you found comfort in the idea of company, especially with the looming tension of war. Among the new arrivals was Vi, her familiar cocky grin lighting up her face as she approached you.

“I brought reinforcements,” she said, gesturing to the soldiers behind her. Then, with a hint of hesitation, she added, “And… I want you to meet someone.”

You raised an eyebrow in curiosity as a tall, graceful woman stepped forward. She had a quiet confidence about her, with sharp eyes that seemed to take in everything around her. “This is Caitlyn,” Vi said, her tone softer than usual. “She’s… she’s my lover.”

For a moment, the air between you grew heavy with unspoken words. Vi fidgeted, scratching the back of her neck awkwardly. “I didn’t mean to keep it from you. I know we’re in the middle of a war, and this probably isn’t the time, but… I thought you should know. I’m sorry if—”

You interrupted her with a small, understanding smile. “Vi, it’s okay. You can’t help love. None of us can.”

Relief washed over her face, and without another word, she pulled you into a hug. It was firm, warm, and filled with unspoken emotions. You weren’t sure if it was her way of thanking you or a silent goodbye in case things went wrong, but you embraced her nonetheless, finding comfort in the gesture.

As Vi pulled away, Caitlyn stepped forward, offering a polite bow. “Thank you for welcoming us, Your Majesty. It’s an honor to fight by your side.”

“Please, call me by my name,” you said with a kind smile. “And thank you—for standing with us in such uncertain times.”

Caitlyn nodded, her respect clear, before stepping back to join Vi. As the two of them exchanged a glance, you couldn’t help but feel a small pang of envy at their connection. But it quickly faded, replaced by a quiet determination. You had your people to protect and a war to win.

You, Sevika, and the royal family gathered in the dimly lit tent, the air thick with tension as the strategy map lay sprawled across the wooden table. Sevika leaned forward, her armored finger tracing the lines of the castle and its surrounding areas, her voice sharp and commanding.

“Ambessa Medarda is a warlord,” she began. “She’s been dismantling civilizations for decades. She’s seen every strategy and tactic. If we try to face her head-on, we’ll lose. We have to outsmart her.”

You nodded, your gaze fixed on the map. “What’s the plan?”

Sevika’s expression remained focused. “We’re within the protective shield your father designed before his passing. It keeps the monsters at bay and prevents Ambessa’s forces from launching a direct attack. But that shield is also our key advantage. If we can infiltrate the castle and disable it, we can release the monsters onto her army, throwing them into chaos.”

“Disable the shield?” Vi asked, raising an eyebrow. “And what about the townspeople and servants? They’ll be left defenseless.”

“I haven’t forgotten them,” Sevika replied, her tone firm. “I have a soldier inside the castle—Ekko—who’s disguised as one of Ambessa’s men. He’s been working to evacuate the servants and townspeople to the depths of the castle’s prison. It’s the most secure location we have, with reinforced walls and iron gates. There are only two keys: one with Ekko and one with me. No one can get in or out without them.”

You exhaled slowly, nodding. “And once they’re safe?”

Sevika continued, “That’s when we strike. We’ll send a small team to infiltrate the castle. Ambessa’s forces are concentrated on the perimeter, so we’ll use that to our advantage. We’ll split into two groups—one to disable the shield, and another to take out her lieutenants. Without her generals, her army will collapse, especially once the monsters are unleashed.”

“And Ambessa herself?” Caitlyn asked, her voice steady.

“She’ll come,” Sevika said. “She thrives on the battlefield. Once her forces are in chaos, she’ll want to confront whoever’s leading this rebellion. That’s when we’ll strike. She won’t have her lieutenants to back her up.”

You stared at the map, your fingers gripping the edge of the table. “What about Mel?” you asked, your voice colder than you intended.

The room fell silent for a moment. Sevika looked at you, her expression unreadable.

“She’s in the castle,” Sevika admitted. “Ambessa’s daughter could be useful. If we capture her, we can force Ambessa to act recklessly. She’d never abandon her child.”

“Useful?” you repeated, your voice rising. “Mel isn’t useful. She’s a traitor. She let Ambessa take the castle and stabbed me without hesitation. I don’t want her captured—I want her dead.”

The intensity of your words startled the room into silence. Vi shifted uncomfortably, while Caitlyn exchanged a glance with her. Sevika, however, held your gaze, her jaw tightening.

“Your Majesty,” Sevika said carefully, “I understand your anger. I do. But killing Mel outright might not be the best option. We can use her to—”

“Ok,” you snapped, cutting her off. “We can use her to draw Ambessa out but she betrayed this kingdom, betrayed my family. She doesn’t get to live after that.”

Sevika’s eyes narrowed slightly, but she nodded. “If that’s your decision, then I’ll make sure it’s carried out. But you need to know: killing her will enrage Ambessa. She won’t come to negotiate or surrender. She’ll come for blood.”

“Good,” you said, your voice unwavering. “Let her come. I’m not afraid of her.”

Vi stepped forward, her brow furrowed. “Look, I get it. What Mel did was awful. But people make mistakes. Are you sure there’s no chance she—”

“There’s no chance,” you interrupted. “Mel isn’t a victim of circumstance. She knew what she was doing. She’s as dangerous as her mother, and I won’t risk letting her betray us again.”

The tension in the tent was palpable, but you didn’t back down. Finally, Sevika broke the silence.

“Fine,” she said. “Mel’s life is forfeit. But I’ll handle it. You don’t need to carry that weight.”

You met her gaze, your resolve unshaken. “No. This is my fight, and I’ll see it through myself.”

Sevika studied you for a moment, then nodded. “As you wish, Your Majesty. We’ll make the necessary adjustments to the plan.”

The room fell into a tense silence as Sevika turned back to the map. “We move at dawn,” she said. “Everyone knows their roles. Rest up tonight. This isn’t just about the castle or the kingdom. This is about sending a message: no one takes what’s ours without paying the price.”

You glanced around the room, meeting the eyes of those who stood with you. The anger in your chest burned hotter, fueling your determination. This was your kingdom, and you would do whatever it took to protect it. And when the time came, Mel would pay for her betrayal.

The camp was quiet, with only the crackling of the fire and the occasional rustling of leaves breaking the silence. You sat cross-legged by the fire, carefully carving arrows for your bow. Eros lay beside you, his massive form sprawled out lazily as he purred softly in his sleep. The task kept your hands busy, but your mind was far from at ease. The events of the past weeks weighed heavily on you, their memories replaying over and over like a haunting melody you couldn’t escape.

You didn’t notice Vander approaching until he sat down beside you with a heavy sigh, his presence as solid and reassuring as ever. He watched you in silence for a moment before speaking. “You okay?” His voice was low, steady, and full of concern.

You didn’t look up, keeping your eyes fixed on the arrow you were carving. “Yeah… I’m just making arrows.”

“I mean mentally, (Y/N),” Vander said gently, his gaze unwavering as he studied you.

You hesitated, your movements slowing. The truth was a bitter pill to swallow, but you were too tired to mask your feelings anymore. “I’ve been stabbed by a friend who lied about who her mother was. Heartbroken more than once by the same woman I kissed a few hours ago. I’ve taken a mythical substance to survive, and now my parents are dead—killed by that same woman’s hands.” Your voice cracked slightly as you added, “No, Vander. I’m not mentally okay. I don’t think I ever will be.”

You resumed carving the arrow, the rhythmic scrape of the blade against the shaft filling the space between you. Vander leaned forward, his broad hand covering yours and stilling your movements. You looked at him, your tear-filled eyes meeting his steady ones.

“You sound just like your father when he was your age,” Vander said, his voice thick with emotion. “That attitude, that fire—it’s all him. But you also have his forgiveness, his strength, and his resilience. He loved you more than anything in this world. I should know—he used to send me letters every day when your mother was pregnant with you. He wrote about you before you were even born, asking for advice, dreaming of the life he wanted to give you. He wanted nothing but the best for you.”

Tears spilled over as you listened to Vander’s words, the ache in your chest growing heavier. “If he wanted the best for me, he wouldn’t have died,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “I’m not ready to be queen, Vander. I can barely make decisions about my own life, let alone choices that will change the lives of my people.”

Vander reached out, placing a comforting hand on your head. “You’re ready if you’re asking yourself that question,” he said firmly, his words carrying the weight of certainty. “Your father believed in you, and so do I. You’ve got this, kid.”

With that, he rose to his feet, leaving you alone by the fire. His words lingered in the air, offering a faint glimmer of hope amidst the turmoil in your heart. You wiped your tears and turned your focus back to the arrows, your hands steady despite the storm raging inside you.

As you worked, a new determination began to settle over you like a second skin. You weren’t going to stop fighting—not until the war was over, not until both Ambessa and Mel Medarda were brought to justice. You swore to yourself that their heads would one day rest in your hands, and until that day came, you would keep fighting with everything you had.

The fire crackled softly as you continued carving your arrows, trying to keep your mind focused on the task at hand. The weight of the night and the looming battle ahead hung heavy in the air. You didn’t hear her approach, but the familiar sound of armored boots stopping beside you made your heart skip. Sevika sat down in the same spot Vander had vacated earlier, her presence commanding yet comforting in a way only she could manage.

You glanced at her briefly, then returned to your work, the tension between you palpable. The silence stretched for a moment before Sevika broke it, her voice low but steady. “I love you.”

Your hands froze, the arrow slipping from your grasp as you slowly turned to face her. “What?” you asked, unsure if you’d heard her correctly.

She met your gaze with unwavering sincerity. “I love you, (Y/N). I have for years, and I’m sorry it’s taken me this long to say it.”

The world seemed to stop for a moment as her words sunk in. Your heart raced, and your mind scrambled for a response. “Thank you…” you said, the words slipping out before you could stop them. Sevika raised an eyebrow, her expression a mix of amusement and disbelief.

“I—I mean…” you stammered, flustered. “I love you too, Sevika.”

A rare smile spread across her face, softening her usual stern demeanor. Without a word, she stood up, extending a hand toward you. You hesitated only for a second before placing your tools aside and reaching for her. Her grip was firm but gentle as she pulled you to your feet, her calloused hands warm against yours.

Sevika cupped your cheek with one hand, her thumb brushing lightly against your skin as her eyes searched yours. “I want to prove to you how much I love you,” she said, her voice dropping to a husky whisper. “Come to my tent with me?”

You couldn’t help the smile that tugged at your lips. “Are you trying to seduce me?” you teased, your voice playful but your heart pounding.

“Yes,” she replied without hesitation, her straightforwardness catching you off guard but making your cheeks flush. She took your hand again, this time entwining her fingers with yours as she began leading you toward her tent.

As you followed her, the weight of the world seemed to momentarily lift, replaced by the promise of something tender and true. For the first time in what felt like forever, you felt a spark of hope—a reminder that even in the darkest times, love could still shine through.

taglist (my shaylas <3): @tinycherry0 @thesecondhandwoman @taurtel @abbysleftbicepp @artfairyyyyy @furrytaesss @savedforlaterr @veladeangl @5t4r1i9ht @inlovewithsevikaandambessa @imfckngfantastic @imsofreakingtired @imheadintothemountains @adora-moonshine @sevikasfan @runawaybaby3 @rhian88 @rhaeheartzsquirrelz @athena-winters13

[dipperscavern]

pondering anon back again for the third time today 😔😔😔 i can’t stay away I CAN’T STOP PONDERING! MAKE IT STOP!!!!!

Thinking and pondering about the bedding ceremony with cregan. prior to the ceremony he pulls you aside, the nervousness and discomfort evident in your demeanour as the moment approaches. he implores you to reveal what it is that troubles you, what has brought you such discomfort on your wedding day, what troubles his darlings wife’s pretty head, and how what shall he do in order to bring you happiness on such a day where you are most paramount to him. he would not have your holy matrimony be built on such negative feelings. so when he finally clocks that it is the bedding ceremony… or moreso its audience that concerns you, all bets are off. he grabs your face and tilts it towards his own and makes his final vow for the night, that for as long as you are his wife, he shall do naught to displease you or indignify you. though some insolent voices amongst the “welcomed” guests (horny lords, medieval porn addicts) urged him to maintain the tradition that is not oft broken. for every great man there are tenfold lesser men.

to alleviate the bickering of bitchless blue balled lords, he agrees to let them spectate and witness the consummation. though ‘there has never lived a stark who forgot an oath’. so it was decided by cregan himself that they would indeed witness the consummation; but not through their eyes, through their ears. so the lords, less than eager to further question their wardens orders, resigned to sitting outside his bedchambers doors and sat there with each other in shameful silence as they hear the most lewd sounds echo from beneath the heavy oak door. they are just there, in the middle of the hallway, sat in chairs facing the door with their hands awkwardly clasped together in their laps and all they hear are your whines of pleasure, wet slapping sounds, the creaks of the wood bedframe, and cregans gutteral groans and occasional utterings of “mine” “my beautiful wife” and other inaudible ramblings of what could only be declarations of his devotion to keeping you nice and safe, keeping you his. letting you know that you are his as he is yours from that moment forward as your moans are heard from all seven kingdoms much to your dismay but a girl can’t help it! all they can do is picture how on earth it is that he is pleasuring you with such fervour. blue balled for life.

and they sit there until the first silence, when all sound ceases and it is evident through cregans very vocal and loud lovemaking that you had both reached your peaks (which left many lords wide eyed and stunned, as despite having witnessed so many consummations, none would be able to recall such a moment where a woman were to create such lustful sounds and certainly not able to recall a woman having an orgasm. “most unnatural” recalls one lord.). now very eager to remove themselves from such a humbling and quite embarrassing situation, some of the lords from lesser houses stood up to leave. though they were interrupted when the sounds of pleasure quickly resumed much to their astonishment. soon they were back to their former positions, staring at the door which at that point they could’ve sworn was the most dreadful door they had ever laid eyes on. just as soon, they came to understand that they would be there for some time (many hours on end as it turned out to be, well into the night and creeping towards the first light of dawn). only half made it through the entire bedding ceremony and many a lord fell asleep by the 3rd hour of ceaseless noise.

TLDR:::: cregan fucks hard, he fucks loud, and he fucks like he wants you pregnant as soon as possible (because he does :///////).

i apologize for such long asks of my incomprehensible ponderous thoughts, i’m not evening asking anything anymore i am simply begging for you to hear me out guys hes so fine #needthat 😔😔😔

just gonna… just gonna leave this here. i am so normal about this

[cheriladycl01]

My girlfriend jousts! Charles Leclerc x SouthKoreanOlympicFencing! Reader

Plot: Charles Leclerc finally dates outside of his friendship circle, nobody in the paddock has met you yet. He invites you to your first race and tries to explain your job to everyone...

You walked next to your boyfriend F1 driver Charles Leclerc. It was your first time in the paddock with him and you were very nervous. You'd never met his team-mate Carlos Sainz, or any of the drivers for the matter.

You reached out to take his hand which he took happily, pulling it up and kissing the top of your hand.

"There's no need to worry! Everyone's going to love you!" he smiles down at you, you rub your thumb over his knuckles as a comforting gesture for yourself.

You both swiped in and he didn't leave your side, no matter how many people came up to talk to him. Weather it was the likes of Will Buxton, wanting to talk to him about the car, or a fan asking for a signature on a Ferrari cap or one of his fellow drivers offering him quick good lucks for the weekend as they rush off to whatever media duties they have.

"Come on, lets go find Carlos! I'll introduce you to Rebecca" he smiles as you both head over to the Ferrari motorhome. You can tell everyone really is like family there, Charles walks you round introducing you to all the mechanics and the social media staff. Literally anyone he can find he goes up to, and he knows their names and is asking them about their families.

"Oh! Yes this is my girlfriend Y/N. She's much cooler than me... she jousts for her job!" he exclaims using the worst way possible to describe what you do.

"Excuse me?" the man laughs, not really understanding what Charles was trying to explain your job as.

"I'm a South Korean Olympic Fencer. I competed in the 2021 Olympics in Tokyo. Charles just finds it funny to tell people i joust like some medieval brute!" you smile at the mechanic who laughs nodding.

"I knew i recognized you from somewhere, just couldn't put my mind too it where I support Italy!" he smiles and you nod at him.

"So what's it like being a fencer?" he asks.

"I enjoy it, there's obviously a certain level of talent too it and dedication but i've also found its rather artistic" you smile while explaining how you've linked your training schedule up to Charles' with Joris so you can get fitter before the next games.

You'd placed silver which had been incredible but like most olympians or people in sort you wanted that gold. You'd noticed major improvements in the way you'd fenced since you'd gone to training with Charles. You basically copied his everyday routine. You ate what he ate and you exercised like he did.

Next up Carlos came jogging over Rebecca as graceful as ever floating behind him greeting everyone that she passed.

"Omg hello! You must be Charles girlfriend. He and Carlos have told me all about you!" Rebecca smiles but you struggle to understand her because of the strong Scottish accent. It took you months to get around the way Charles spoke that you actually found it easier if you both spoke in French, which you'd learned at school. But you eventually both got around that curve-ball.

"Hello. It's nice to meet, both of you. Charles has also told me lots about you!" you admit smiling at her, she pulls you into a hug which you kindly accept and try to not make the first contact awkward.

You all ended up having lunch together in the Ferrari hospitality talking about everything and how you'd be flying back to Korea next week. Carlos said how he was upset that the Korean International Circuit wasn't on the roster anymore and that he'd never driven round it and might never get too.

Charles was very touchy all day, every time he left you to go do something team related he either held onto you while you walked him to wherever he needed to be. You'd wait and he'd rush straight back out pulling you into a hug kissing your neck and burying his head into the crook of it.

"What's wrong Jagiya (Baby)?" you asked looking to him and holding him.

"I just want to go home with you" he sighs, you can tell its not been a good day with the media considering they kept asking about his DNF in last weekends race.

"Mmmmm and we will. But I think you have some more friends to introduce me to" you grinned at him.

He introduced you to Lando and Oscar, who you both enjoyed their vibe. You found it easy to make conversation with Lando and his upbeat energy and Oscar had very funny and comedially timed inputs and ad libs to the conversation but also had a comforting silence you enjoyed.

He also introduced you to Pierre saying how they'd been best friends since they were very young and they'd come all the way through Karting together.

Pierre asked his girlfriend Kika to come over and introduced the two of you. Being similar ages you both got on having similar sense of humors and were into the same things.

You spent the rest of the day walking round the paddock with her, until someone caught you for an interview. It seemed to be Sky News, you'd been privy to Sky News before when they captured you in the Olympics.

"So Y/N it's your first time here! How have you found the energy of the paddock?" he asks.

"Yes, it's been very faced pace I think I've met and spoken to more people today than i have in my 23 years I've been around!" you joke laughing with the presenter.

"And how does it feel, as a Silver Olympic medalist to be around a sport like this?" he asks.

"Yeah, I mean from a very young age I was active and enjoyed different types of sport. My mum really wanted to pursue Taekwando as it's our national sport but I was never an aggressive person. I tried football and then when i was sent to a boarding school I was enlisted for fencing and I just stuck with it!" you answer politely.

"So, as i'm from the UK I would assume that your Premiere League Team is Spurs?" he asks hoping you liked football still to this day.

"Yes, I do. I try watch them at any opportunity i can! Sometimes and don't tell Charlie but I've skipped qually to watch them play" you say biting your lip a little.

The quick interview wraps up and it was safe to say that afterwards Charles Leclerc was now having to share his girlfriend with everyone online who had fallen in love with her personality.

"You look cute here!" Charles says latter that night a still from your interview on the TV where he'd paused it. You were laughing at something the interviewer had said and you hand was over your face covering it while your sharp eyes crinkled from your smile.

"Mmmm today was fun! I'd like to come to this more often!" you smile at him, flopping down onto the bed and playing with the collar of his red team shirt.

"Yeah? You would?" he asks and you nod before pulling him into a hug.

y/user

Liked by charlesleclerc and others

y/user: Amazing weekend at my first race! The Scuderia was very exciting. Thank you for the time @scuderiaferrari

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charlesleclerc I love you ❤️ thank you for coming 🔥

2 hours ago

Taglist:

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A/N: sorry this is my first try at some kind of social media! Im sorry if it’s bad!

[sealinredshoes]

Big Four Month Day 1 : Origins

I'm late for the Big Four Month but here we go. Here are some of my headcanons for a Big Four first meeting because my life is a little shitty righ now and I don't have the time to write this as a one shot

Let's be honest, the time line for the RotBTD crossover is way too complicaded. So you know what ? May the RenFair setting be upon you.

Merida is in her best medieval dress but there is a viking boy staring at her from across the food stand like the autism creature so she leave toward the dance area

They are playing songs from ages long forgotten. Music that makes her feel alive, make her feel like if her body is bigger than her bones, spreading freely toward the sun and the sky like if she had already walked this Earth before and know all of its secrets.

Suddently, boom, she end up dancing with Hiccup kingdom dance style and even if they are weirded out, it feel so natural to keep dancing , because there are old souls in young bodies and an old soul know another

Hiccup eventually apologize for staring at her earlier because he is not a creep he just wanted to steal her Mor'du's pin.

"Dude you know Mord'u ?" "Of fucking course I know Mor'du, it's a classic tale !" "Bro, litteraly no one know Mor'du, there is like nothing made around this tale !" "Bro, I know, that's such a shame !" "My life is in shambles bro." "Mine is meaningless without this pathetic bear king !" "He is such a wet cat." "The stinky"

They keep infodumping over celtic tale and legends, Hiccup explaning why trolls are a matriarcal society, Merida making theories about King Arthur's return. They go buy crepes and keep talking with their mouth full, being use as a bad examples for the kids around them.

The Mor'du pin is actually just a wooden bear pin Merida customized. She agree to bring Hiccup back to the stand, because this old lady make such cool things.

There is mostly bears, but also some fantasy book pins, and because I like to think Hiccup would be a Terry Pratchett fan, and that selling Discword inspired art is now illegal, he is very happy to find a beautiful Librarian carving, the only one of his kind.

Wouldn't be a shame if some white haired sheperd just came out of nowhere wainting to buy it too ?

It's time for some roast battle with Merida as a back up (making weird faces behind him) (she is very bad at back up) until they suddently realise the pin isn't here anymore and that a girl in a purple princess dress is ready to pay for it and putting it on her bag.

"Okay, no, you have to fight for it like everyone else !" "*gasp*Is this some kind of mexican standoff situation ?" "What ? No ? I don't no shit about cinema theory ?" "Mexican standoff is a cinema stuff ?" "Anyway, when will you three gonna fight ?"

Of course they are not going to fight right here over the old lady stand so they just walk around the Ren fair for seven minutes to find some Hnefatall board to set it up.

The party is so long, everybody is screaming, Rapunzel is pulling the biggest cheating move without knowing it, Jack contemplate his life with horror and Merida is so frustrated some time that she just move the pieces herself.

At some point, they are not just playing anymore, they are making silly scenario about the pawns and pretending to be merciless gods and causing chaos. It's being hours. People hate them because they doesn't share the board. The old lady is gone.

They end up being forced to leave the board to other kids and go find some food, enjoy the fair, spend to much money over costume pieces. Laughing all the way.

Slowly the sun is getting down, they don't think in matter of time anymore, they watch the acrobatic spectacles from affar. Jack is showing of his backflips skills. They found one of those climbing polls at the children area where they can pretend to be knigh in training. There is no kids anymore, they have it all to themselves. Someway Rapunzel end up at the top of the poll.

"Okay, how do I get down, know ?" "How do you get on this on the first place ?" "I don't know okay ?" "I'm sure we can use her hair to help her down." " How exactly, like by knittting it ?" "Or braiding it, like this girl on tiktok, you know ?" "Okay but will this be enough to hold her weight ?" "Guys, can you shut up and just help me ?"

She fall down on them and they are screaming so loudly they end up being kicked out of the fair

The nigh is young, they souls are old, they feel bigger than their bodies, today is meant to never end, they get lost on the parking lot, drip down on the mud, fall all the way down a small hill.

They are tired, and messy, and covered in dirt. This is the best nigh of their lives, they feel like they were born again this night

I hope I will catch up on the list tomorrow, I didn't even have the time to check everyone else work.

[the-moon-files]

So I have tried to request this prompt from someone else but I don't think their blog is that active anymore. If your willing I'd love to request the following.

Prompt: Reader is bisexual and gender neutral.

Reader is considered fairly attractive and gets flirted with pretty often by basically whoever gender wise. And maybe reader and Zelda even end up flirting a little bit. Reader would have a similar lackadaisical flirty personality as Warriors has.

I wanted to see how each of The Chain would react to this with the context of them having secret feelings for the reader.

2nd official request, woo look at me go 🏃💨

Sun: Gender-neutral Reader (”you”/they/them)

Orbit: Headcanons-ish

Stars: Zelda (Assuming they meant BOTW), + the classic Chain of Links <3

Comets & Meteors: Content Warnings: mild cussing, mild typical loz violence, Mildly Suggestive, & Trigger Warnings: none known.

Please comment if I missed any. /gen

so i like to think that modern flirting is radically different than their medieval flirting,

like mayyybbeee Wild can handle it, but even then, they have royalty/knights still, so hes still gettin flustered lol

and i like to think u learned that difference the first time Wars complimented ur new/strange modern fit, and u returned the energy?? except 10x stronger (to them)??

youve played the player, and beat him at his own game, the Captain of the knights is sputtering and shit LMAO

(he said smth like, “their beauty is god-like in this otherworldly clothing“ and YOU said smth like he’d “thank you, youd look better in my bed than in armor 👉 😎 👉 ” lmao)

funniest part is, bc its so natural, i can see u immediately shooting off smth and forgetting it instantly, much to the Links collective shock 😭

u go to towns and notice theres always 1 hero around to steer u away from shopkeepers, townsppl, etc so u wont flirt w/them LMAO

(when u finally notice, u just, “ohh i get it now, so im only allowed to flirt with someone named Link, ohhh, okayy” and they just, “NO we didnt say that-!” “No its just their bold flirtations are not for the weak of heart-!” “Yes.” “CAPTAIN-”)

the only one who they cant steer u away from is Zelda.

afterall, they kinda have to inform the Princess/now Queen of the kingdom, whats going on w/them traveling with Link (Wild) around time and space

the sheikah tablet had been disconnecting + reconnecting to Purah’s both fascination and worry

so as theyre invited to eat dinner and explain in the rebuilding castle, everyone’s absorbed in shadow talk or smth, and u can see Zelda’s struggling to follow along, u just casually bring it back to her, as she’s also trying to write notes and theyve moved on too quickly w/o her

“wowww, all these men and not a single one’s gonna offer the lady any, ‘hi, hello, how is the most beautiful girl in the world today?’ “

and the gapingggg from the links shut them right up, while Zelda goes all pink and coughs, and agrees that they should move on to more chill topics lol

and u can crack anybody tbh, Zelda giggles at ur compliments all the time, even in work mode, u can deffo get Wars to blush to his ears, and even Time to look away first in a flirty + staring contest lol

Legend might actually put his hands up like he’s prepared to fight u anytime u try to flirt at him when its just you two, before he realizes what hes doing and stops LMAO

oh and u absolutely get a lot of mileage out of that one lol

the best reactions have gotta be, in order of most to least extreme: Hyrule, Sky, Wild, Four, Legend, Twilight, Wars, Time

Rulie, Sky, Wild and Four fall into that classic, shocked-heart-eyes, full blush up to their pointy ears, etc category when u get them,

they are also very easy to get lmao

Four is the best at recovery, or ducking away, but if its the Colors, its this type of obvious lol, w/the obvious ones like Red and Blue, Green takes a little more to break, and tbh Vio could go toe-to-toe w/u better than Wars tbh before he crumbles under the pressure lol

Legend, Twi, Wars, and Time faces may not change a lot, bc theyre trying to save it lmao, but the way their cheeks go pink and ears twitch is how u know ur gettting to them (along w/legend’s defensive reaction to getting cornered LMAO)

Twi has caved and covered his face w/his hands before lmao

one day youll get Time to break more than an ear twitch, and looking away, One Day.

(Wind is in fact, having the time of his life, watching you absolutely hilariously wreck these otherwise v serious heroes, hes glad u got them to finally relax a little, but also its hilarious seeing Wars and Legend red faces, and occasionally stealing Wild’s tablet to take funny pics of them all to blackmail later lol)

☆

idk how good that was, as im kinda bust at flirty banter between characters, so i hope this suffices ur need to flirt w/everyone lol

also i feel i should apologize for not rlly including pronouns? it just kinda comes w/writing reader stories to put them in 2nd person to both make intimacy for readers w/their little avatar im controlling for them, and to purposefully remove the need for gendered pronouns :/

so im sorry i couldnt quite figure out how to make it where “they/them” got used much, i promise i love all pronouns, its just a skill issue tbh lmao

btw

send any prayers, blessings, or good vibes u got my way tomorrow bc im getting wisdom teeth surgery and i am intimidated✨

ill post more asks (i have multiple asks!! <33) after im lying in bed lamenting my painful fate,

mostly just worried ill react badly to the drugs, also the idea of being knocked out during surgery is a little scary so what can i say

have a great weekend guys!! thanks for reading if u did :)

Peace out,

🌙