thegreyjoyed

[thegreyjoyed]

For so long, the US has been a battle of left vs right. But CEO Brian Thompson's assassination has kinda done something incredible..... The conversation has shifted from being "left vs right" to "rich vs poor." The cracks have begun to show, and maybe, just maybe, the conversation will continue...

[thegreyjoyed]

Ykw boss type shit

im not christian but i do believe in the power of prayer. for this reason i keep a little homonculus in a dog crate under my bed which i have raised as a devout catholic. whenever i want something in my life to change i poke him with a stick and he clasps his grubby little paws together and starts chanting in latin. his prayers always go through because he has never known sin

[thegreyjoyed]

Tf141 p!links

WARNING: These links contain sensitive material on the platform X. To access them, you’ll need to make sure your account can view sensitive content on the web version app, and you’ll also need to be logged in. ¡MDNI! Please continue at your own discretion.

Simon “Ghost” Riley

simon tying you up so he can breed you roughly

stepdad!simon breeding you with a creampie

olderbf!simon stretching you out with his big cock

simon giving you a sweet creampie whilst having you in mating press

getting fucked firmly from behind by olderbf!simon

bsfdad!simon using you as his little fucktoy in secret

stepdad!simon teasing his baby girl before cumming inside her

simon fucking his angel so sweetly and gently

simon angry fucking the living soul out of you in missionary

bsfdad!simon teasing you before shoving his cock deep inside

olderbf!simon taking you from behind after ripping your panties

olderbf!simon rough fucking his pretty baby to sleep

Captain John Price

older!john having you bounce up and down on his aching cock

john rearranging your guts with his big dick

stepdad!john breeding and creampie-ing his stepdaughter who’s pretty in pink

john pinning you down and fucking you senselessly until you see stars

older!john using your sweet pussy as a cumdump

stepdad!john angry pounding his angel with his big cock

stepdad!john pinning you down and breeding you from behind

john stretches you out slowly on his cock

older!john using your pussy to get sweet relief

stepdad!john eating his little girl out

slow, sensual sex with older!john

milking john’s cock after a long, hard mission

Johnny “Soap” Mactavish

johnny teases his pretty baby before fucking her hard

fetish!johnny likes to make your panties a wet mess before giving you a creampie

john getting his sweetheart so cockdrunk

being a good little slut and riding olderbf!johnny’s cock

johnny pounding your pussy in the shower after a long day

olderbf! johnny punishing his little girl’s pretty parts

johnny overflowing and breeding you with his cum while you squirt

getting fucked to sleep by olderbf!johnny

johnny abusing your pussy mercilessly as he fucks you rough

stepdaddy!johnny forcing you to take it hard like a good girl

johnny pumping his cum deep inside you

olderbf!johnny hate fucking you after an argument

Kyle “Gaz” Garrick

links will be added soon!

[thegreyjoyed]

links to PT 1 - PT 2  - PT 3 - PT 4

~ PT.5 ~

It was hard adjusting to life on base, especially with 3 young kids. It’s unnerving to feel eyes following you wherever you go, and it’s even worse for your kids who tend to hide behind your legs whenever you have to leave the living quarters your family was assigned to. 

Your 3 month old has taken this move the worst since Simon is very scarce in your new routine. You know it’s for your safety since the terrorists found out about your family's location, but you hate it here. They say they’re closer to finding John and finally bringing you home, but the whole situation is making you spiral again. Crying yourself to sleep in fear that the next day they’ll come into the room and tell you John’s dead it’s too much for you. You know it’s wrong for you to rely so heavily on Simon, especially since he’s trying to get your husband home to you. So you try your hardest to take care of your 3 cubs who need you so badly, it’s 2 weeks into your residence on base that Simon finds out about you not taking care of yourself. That’s when you find yourself being dragged to bed, carried over the shoulder as Simon forces you to sleep while he watches your 3 month old baby boy. “Your acting like you don’t need me when you obviously fucking do, i’m not playing this game.” Simon says in desperation and exhaustion from trying to find John and feeling guilty at loving the family dynamic he finally is a part of. He feels needed. Wanted. But it’s all a means to an end since when they find John you won’t need him. But this isn’t about him, this is about keeping his promise to John, his promise to take care of you. So once you finally listen to him and start relying on Simon again, that’s when they’re called to the command center. They located the coordinates of the base where John is being held captive. When Simon comes in that morning of the mission, not having told you beforehand that they found John and that Simon’s leaving. That’s when you finally break. 

“YOU JUST CAN’T LEAVE ME HERE ALONE, YOU PROMISED. YOU PROMISED HIM  AND YOU PROMISED ME!”  you yell while holding onto Simon’s mask, refusing to give him the skull, knowing that once he puts that mask on there’s no turning back. Knowing that once he puts on that mask you’ll be alone, having both John and Simon away from you, uncertain if they’ll ever come home to you.  

“I know what I fuckin’ promised. I promised him to take care of you, and the best way I know how to do that is by getting him home.” Simon’s voice breaks a bit while dragging a hand down his face, trying his hardest to keep his emotions in check and not let you win. In all this time, you’ve broken the ice, you’ve helped heal a piece of Simon he thought he didn’t deserve to fix. You gave that piece back to him. It doesn’t matter, he needs to fucking burry Simon away and bring John home. John needs Ghost, not Simon. The task force needs their Lieutenant, John needs to come home and Simon needs to get a fucking reality check. 

“It’s better this way” Simon rasps out as he pries the skull mask out of your shaking hands ignoring the sounds of your labored breathing from behind him. There will be no stopping him from reaching the tarmac, all geared up, looking straight towards the chopper.

He knows you’ll hate him forever for leaving you, but he won’t be able to live with himself if he doesn’t go.

[thegreyjoyed]

Until the Last Loop

Hated by the kingdom for the circumstances of your birth, you have died countless times- framed, betrayed, and executed, only to wake up and live it all over again. Resigned to your fate, you no longer fight the cycle- or against the four mercenaries sworn to protect you each life even when they inevitably fail to stop the accusations. With the noose tightening once more, the blade sharpened by the executioner, you’re left to wonder if this life will end like all the others- or if this time, something might finally change.

Part One: the Execution

Part Two: Familiar Faces

Part Three: When the Hour Strikes

Part Four: Moments of Vulnerability

Part Five: for Her Sake

[thegreyjoyed]

luigi mangione, the SUSPECTED (innocent until proven guilty) united healthcare shooter, has been charged with terrorism. that’s right. a man who supposedly shot ONE SINGLE PERSON is being charged with terrorism. because in america, billionaires lives matter enough that a SINGLE rich man’s death is considered a terrorist act against this country. think about that.

[thegreyjoyed]

Gaz being Gaz

[thegreyjoyed]

PRAIRIE WOLF | masterlist

John tucks his hand over your nape, pulling you into the warm bracket of his neck where his pulse beats steady under your forehead. Firm. Strong. All heat.

"I'll protect you," he rasps, chest rumbling under the swell of your belly. The growl—brassbound, ferric: a promise and a threat—glues to his words. Sinking deep. "Both of you, Coyote. Always."

And despite everything that tries to convince you otherwise, you believe him.

[OR: in an attempt to run from your abusive ex, you find yourself crashing into the arms of John Price, a man determined to keep you, and your unborn baby, safe. at all costs. but you're not the only one with secrets or scars.]

18+. past abuse (emotional, physical, mental). sexual trauma. unplanned pregnancy. childhood abuse. healing. eventual smut. protective John Price. gruff lumberjack Price and the stray he picks up. eventual Dom!Price (more in essence than act). divorced!John Price. implied child death (not reader's baby). age gap. grief. cultural differences. set in the early 90s. nonlinear narrative. Reader has an unconventional nickname (plot-important). Reader has a backstory. tags will be added as the series progresses.

AO3. MOODBOARD.

prologue part one | hinterland part two | moose meat part three | mîscacâkanis part four | salt cure part five | teeth and claws part six | pack epilogue

[thegreyjoyed]

roommate au

poly 141 x roommate reader

Original post 1. part two 2. part three 3. house decorations 4. intruder break-in

[thegreyjoyed]

Be more creative with it, this is the 21st century

if i was trapped in the time loop i would do the correct sequence of actions to break out of the time loop on my first try, thus resulting in me unaware of there being a time loop in the first place

[thegreyjoyed]

Training exercises were fun. Especially if Price put you and Ghost on opposite teams. Competitiveness was a major part of your relationship, after all. So there you were, everyone except for you and Simon had been eliminated and were now watching via your body cams. And since they were feeling extra funny, they linked your comms so you could talk while hunting each other down.

“Why don’t you just surrender, sweetheart?” You scoffed, your gaze sweeping the room before you pressed yourself against the wall next to the door. “Why don’t you just stop breathing, babe?” You could hear Simon chuckle through the comms, a smile tugging at your own lips. “We both know you don’t actually want that. Who would make you see stars each night if I were to die?” He was right, of course, but this was all in good fun, right? “I know Johnny would love a taste, isn’t that right, Sergeant?”

A low growl reached your ears, and you knew you had Simon right where you wanted him. Or at least you thought so. “Well, if that’s the case, the new receptionist asked me if I was single, maybe I’ll just-” “Don’t you bloody dare, Riley!” Once again, he chuckled, driving you crazy. “Got you now, darling.”

Realizing that you had just given away your position, you started running. While Simon had more training than you and was much stronger, you were quicker and quieter, something which had often come in handy. As you made your way through the simulated building, you searched for a hiding spot and a distraction. The latter came in the form of an empty can. You picked it up while running and placed it in a doorway before backtracking and hiding behind a cupboard. Within just a few moments, you spotted Simon, slowly moving toward you. Pulling out your silenced ‘fake’ pistol, you aimed at the can and shot, making Simon spin around as the noise caught his attention.

“I’m coming for you, love.” You chuckled quietly, watching him move away from you, his back to you. Aiming, you couldn’t help but retort. “Bring tacos, you fucking prick.” And with those words, you shot the paintball, hitting him in the back of his helmet. With a deep sigh, Simon confirmed that he had been killed, and Price flipped on the lights. Simon turned to look at you, just to find you giggling in your hiding spot. “Good one, lovie.” You grinned, as you watched him cross the distance between you two. “Thank you, dear. Not bad yourself.” The moment he was close enough, he pulled down his balaclava and pressed his lips to yours. A pleased hum escaped your lips, as Simon slowly deepened the kiss.

“Okay, I’ll turn off comms. We’ll debrief in 10.” With those very pained words from Price, you heard the telltale click in your ears and knew that you now had some privacy. “Bloody, finally.” Simon pulled away slightly, muttering those words before trailing kisses down your jaw to your neck. Your fingers found their way to his hair, gently scratching over his scalp, making him hum. But your mind wasn’t there.

“Si?” You got no response. “Simon?” He hummed but didn’t even try to stop, making you chuckle. “Simon Riley.” With a sigh, he pulled away, gazing into your eyes. “Yes, love?” He looked adorable, gazing down at you with pure love in his eyes. “Can we go get tacos after the debrief?” Now, it was his turn to chuckle as he shook his head in disbelief. “Of course. Anything for you, baby.”

A/N: Love some silly stuff. And I love you all!

[thegreyjoyed]

task force 141 rescuing their smart ass american informant

it was easy to find the house you were supposedly stashed in, graves didn’t exactly cover up his tracks when they went over his little video frame by frame. (johnny cheered every time they replayed you knocking graves’ face in)

they each went over their usual pat down, checking their weapons, knives, tactical gear but the car door opened and closed putting them on edge until they realized—

“oh hey guys”

you could hear a fly fart from how quiet it was.

there you were sitting next to soap (ironically) with enough dirt on your face to rival a pubs back alley, dried blood masking whatever clean skin the dirt hadn’t touched.

“oh don’t worry, the blood’s not mine”

that’s not what they were worried about.

price was the first to speak, technically cause he was on point for this off books mission.

“how exactly did you-“

“oh that was easy. i’m a marine, captain. graves slipped out while i was busy, fucking bastard. i’ll give him more than a broken nose and clubbed in foot next time.”

they all shared bewildered looks with each other, not knowing how to proceed.

as price started the car again, a large boom sounded as fire and smoke encased the house you came from.

“was that-“

“there’s a reason i was forced to do desk duty, Lieutenant.”

his blood pressure spiked just a hair.

“now if you don’t mind-“ you grabbed gaz’s scarf as well as price’s hat, stuffing the scarf inside to make a pillow.

“i am going to get some rest, still not used to this time zone yet.”

who the fuck were you?

PART 1 PART 2 PART 3

[thegreyjoyed]

(The awaited regicide addition! A huge thank you to @sun-daddy-yoriichi and @thegreyjoyed for reading this beforehand and giving me their thoughts and pointing out the typos I missed! To @nightunite and everyone else, I hope you all enjoy!)

Original Post

Dukedom masterlist

The halls of the Palace were as oppressive as they were grand, a suffocating testament to a monarchy that, to you, had long since lost its soul. Towering columns of alabaster rose toward impossibly high ceilings, their surfaces carved with scenes of divine rulers ascending to eternal glory. The frescoes above- gold-leafed and luminous- depicted gods bestowing crowns upon mortal kings, and with those crowns, the right for greed.

It was a vision of power untouched by humility, a stark and painful mockery of the kingdom that groaned under its weight. Under its own monarchy’s weight.

You moved through the opulence with the practiced grace, your silks whispering softly against the cold marble floors. The jewels at your throat sparkled, but they felt like chains around your neck. No amount of finery could shield you from the oppressive weight of those walls- or the eyes of the man who ruled within them. You couldn’t wait until you could leave at last.

King Edgar, on the other hand, sat upon his throne of carved ebony and gold, draped in garments that spoke of wealth beyond even your imagination. But the man beneath them was a creature of cruelty. His gaze was sharp, predatory, as though he were dissecting those before him for weaknesses to exploit. Edgar wielded his authority like a weapon, each word carefully chosen to cut deep.

And you had made the mistake of challenging him. You and John both.

When Edgar imposed brutal taxes to fund yet another palace wing for a Queen never satisfied, for the concubines he keeps, John spoke out in the council chamber. When he refused aid to the starving eastern provinces, you arranged for secret shipments of grain. Neither defiances were ever bold enough to be declared treason, but it burned like an ember beneath his throne.

For this, you both earned Edgar’s ire.

But it wasn’t just ire. You wish it had just been ire.

Edgar’s disdain for you, specifically, had taken a far more personal turn. At court functions, he would find reasons to draw near on the now-rare chance you weren’t close enough to John, his presence impossible to ignore.

His hand would rest on your shoulder, his grip firm enough to press a message into your skin: I am in control. His words were always mix of thinly veiled insults and mocking observations, the look in his eyes something that made your stomach twist.

This last court gathering had been the worst yet. Edgar had been in rare form, seated at the head of a long banquet table while nobles competed for his favor. You had been seated nearby, as was customary for a duchess of your rank, but unfortunately, proximity to the king was a double-edged sword not even John could outright protect you from.

“You look radiant tonight, Duchess Pricee,” he had said, his voice loud enough to draw the attention of the room. John’s hand landed on your thigh, squeezing lightly, comfortingly. “Tell me, do you think your husband appreciates your beauty, or is it wasted on him?”

The comment was met with nervous laughter from the assembled nobles, their eyes darting between you, John, and the king. You forced a tight smile, keeping your voice measured. “The Duke has always been a man of great appreciation, Your Majesty. For beauty, and for substance.” You turned to look at John then, finding safety in him.

Edgar’s smile didn’t falter, but his eyes darkened. The conversation moved on, but the tension lingered like a storm cloud. Later, as the banquet ended and the guests began to disperse, Edgar found you near one of the towering windows while you waited for John to finish speaking with a Baron. The light of the full moon was beautiful, but there was nothing serene about the way he cornered you.

“You should know your place, Duchess,” he murmured, his breath brushing your ear as he leaned in far too close to be proper. The scent of his perfumes was so heavy it made your head swim unpleasantly. “Perhaps I’ll remind you of it one day. You’d make a good teacher, at the very least, for my other women.”

The implication behind his words froze you to the core. You felt his hand graze your arm- light, but too close-before he turned and strode away, leaving you trembling with suppressed fury and fear. Queen Vivian, the only witness to this encounter, merely cuts you a dark, nasty look before she leaves as well.

You hated him. You hated her. You hated both of them.

You tell your men as much later that night, after Kyle helped you shower and kisses every inch of your skin until you could no longer think about the way Edgar had touched you.

John’s face darkened as you spoke. He sat by the fire, his broad shoulders hunched, his hands gripping the arms of his chair like he was holding himself back. Across from him, Simon’s jaw ticked, eyes unreadable beneath the flickering shadows of the room. Johnny paced the room, his usual good humor replaced by a simmering rage, while Kyle stood in the corner, his expression calm but his hands tight while he held yours.

“He’s a bastard,” Johnny muttered, accent thick with anger. “I’d love ta wipe that smug grin awff his face.”

“He’s more than a bastard,” John said, low and dangerous. “He’s a threat. To her. To the kingdom.”

Simon leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees. “This isn’t just about his treatment of her. The people are starving, dying in the streets while he and the Queen feast on their labor. They are desperate, and will grow more desperate as winter fully comes…” he trailed off, but you had always been sharp enough to read between the lines.

And still, you hesitated. “…are you saying that-?”

John looked up, his eyes meeting yours. “We are saying it’s time for a change. If this continues, we are looking at a kingdom that will fall.“

He stood up, striding until he was pulling you into his arms and Kyle easily let you go. “But if we stop it now… we are looking at a kingdom that will prosper under new rule.”

And so, the plan was born in that room.

But still, plans and results take time. In that time, you still do your best to help your people:

The smell of smoke lingered in the air, heavy with the scent of charred wood and burnt houses. You stood at the edge of a village that had been reduced to rubble by one of the king’s careless decrees- his soldiers had come through a week ago, demanding supplies the villagers couldn’t afford to give. When they refused, their homes were set ablaze, leaving them with nothing but ash and grief.

And now, you were a witness to it. But you wouldn’t be a bystander.

John stood beside you, his face carved from stone. His shoulders and back were set straight, but his eyes softened when he turned to the group of villagers huddled nearby.

They looked up at him with a mix of awe and apprehension, as though they weren’t sure whether to trust the tall, battle-hardened man who had appeared out of nowhere with promises of help, and he couldn’t blame them. He likely reminded them of the same soldiers that ruined their lives, but he hoped your presence would soothe that animosity just a little.

Simon moved silently among the wreckage, not a Duke; masked and armoured, he had no identity in this moment. Yet, when a small child stumbled toward him, soot smudged across her cheeks and her eyes teary, he knelt without hesitation even when he could see her father and mother rushing towards them.

“Easy now.” he said, his voice low but gentle as he handed her a chunk of bread from his pack. The girl blinked up at him, her tiny fingers clutching the food as though it might vanish if she let go. Simon stepped back when her parents reach them, nodding his head towards them.

“Got the last of the grain sorted,” Johnny called, his arms loaded with sacks of provisions like the other servants. His coice carried a warmth that drew the attention of the villagers. “We’ll get it distributed fair and square- no one will be left hungry, aye?”

And Kyle was already speaking with the village elder, his calm, measured tone putting the man at ease. He had a natural way of connecting with people, one you were so fondly familiar with, and soon, the elder was nodding, gesturing to the scattered remains of what had once been homes. “We’ll help you rebuild,” Kyle said firmly. “But we need to know if any of the king’s soldiers are still nearby.”

They weren’t worried about repercussions or punishments; the King and Queen would just likely use this as an opportunity to boast about how they convinced John Price and his lovely little wife to help those in need.

As the men worked, you found yourself among the women and children, offering what comfort you could. You knelt beside an older woman who was cradling a young boy with a bandaged arm. “You’ve done well to keep it clean,” you said, inspecting the makeshift dressing. “But it needs proper tending. Let me help, please.”

She hesitated for a moment before nodding, tired eyes brimming with gratitude. As you worked, the boy looked up at you, his small voice breaking the silence. “Are you the Queen?”

The question startled you, and you glanced at John, who had overheard. He smiled faintly, his expression softening as he turned back to the villagers he was helping.

“No,” you replied, brushing the boy’s hair back gently. “I’m just someone who cares.”

Though you still heard the older woman sigh quietly. “… should’ve been you the Queen.”

Later, as the sun dipped below the horizon and the village settled into an uneasy calm, the five of you gathered around a fire with the villagers, everyone now with coats and blankets to fight off the chilly night.

“They will likely not come back.” John told them, easing them more. “But even if they did- the Duchess and I will help. The Price and Riley duchies will never turn you away.”

You glanced at the men surrounding you, their determination. They were the hope these people desperately needed. Not a greedy King and an impassive Queen.

Your plans had to succeed.

Late at nights, you all sit together. Tonight, you were pressed to Johnny’s side, finding comfort in the soft smell of sugars and cinnamon and his arm warm and heavy around you.

John spoke, his voice a low rumble. “The army’s discontent is no secret. Edgar’s burned too many bridges, especially with this recent village raid, and Simon and I still have allies who’d follow us.” His blue eyes met yours, steady and unyielding. “But we’ll need more than soldiers to topple a king.”

Simon nodded. “That’s where Kyle comes in.” He said, squeezing Kyle’s hand. “His network runs deeper than the king realizes. Servants, merchants, guards and soldiers- they all talk. We’ll plant the seeds of truth, let Edgar’s reputation rot from the inside out.”

Kyle leaned against Simon, squeezing back. “I don’t need to do much. People are already whispering. About the taxes, the famine, the soldiers running unchecked. Give them a reason to believe the king can fall, and they’ll push the rest of the way.”

Johnny grinned, his usual lightheartedness sharpened into something fierce. “And that’s where I come in, eh? The common folk already hate him. They just need a spark. I’ll give it to them- allies, stories, newspapers, whatever it takes to light the fire.”

Then all eyes turned to you.

“You want me to be the face of this,” you said, more a statement than a question. Your heart pounded in your chest, but you… weren’t afraid. You trusted them fully and unabashedly.

“You’re more than the face,” John said firmly. “You’re the reason, beloved. The people already call you the People’s Duchess. They trust you. They have reason to trust you.”

Simon leaned forward, his gaze locking with yours. “They need someone they believe in. Someone who cares about them more than titles or power.”

“You don’t have to be ready,” Kyle added, gentler. “You just have to lead. We’ll do the rest.”

Johnny kissed your cheek, raising your hands to kiss your knuckles. “They see you as hope, lass. And hope’s a powerful thing.”

Such a big responsibility, and yet…

If they believed you could lead this, maybe you could.

Another night, weeks into the planning, spreading and investigating, John found you in your study. The room was dimly lit, the fire casting warm light over the worn leather of the armchairs. You sat by your desk, going over the latest reports from the villages who were slowly and steadily understanding, when you felt his presence behind you.

“You shouldn’t have to carry this alone, my Duchess,” he said softly, leaning over you to brush a kiss across your bare nape, jewelry forgone for comfort.

You turned to face him, smiling. When he cupped your cheeks with such gentle hands, you leaned into his touch right away. “I’m not alone. I have all of you, no?”

John stepped closer, his fingers brushing your skin. “We’ll protect you. From him, and from anyone who dares to harm you.”

His words, the protectiveness that laced each letter, carried a weight that made your breath hitch. When he leaned down, his lips brushing yours in a tentative kiss, you didn’t pull away. Instead, you reached up, tangling your fingers in his hair as the kiss deepened, his hand sliding to your waist to pull you up and closer.

When Simon walked in moments later, he froze. Then, with a low chuckle, he closed the door behind him and stepped into the room. “Didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“You didn’t,” John said, voice husky as he straightened, his hand still on your waist. You were trying to catch your breath, butterflies fluttering in your stomach and a slow, curling heat between your thighs.

Simon’s eyes met yours, and for a moment, the air grew thicker and warmer. Your dress felt like too much on your skin- you wanted to take it off. “You’ve no idea how much you mean to us, do you, darling?”

His words sent a shiver down your spine, and when he stepped closer, his hand cupped your cheek with surprising tenderness. He leaned in, his kiss slower, more deliberate than John’s, but no less consuming.

When the door opened again, it was Johnny and Kyle who entered, their expressions shifting from surprise to something far more intense as they took in the scene. What followed was a night of you being adored, their touches and whispers a vow, a promise to make you Queen, a devotion that words could never capture.

Eventually, in due time, it happened.

The coup began with the precision of a blade, honed by months of preparation and carried out by hands both steady and ruthless.

Under the cover of night, John and Simon led their soldiers into the Palace, moving like shadows through the grand halls. Years of military training were evident in every step, every silent order given and every hand waved. John’s voice cut through the tense air as he directed his men, his commands sharp and decisive.

Simon reminded everyone why he had earned the respect he was given.

Kyle’s network of informants worked in perfect synchronization with the military strike, just as they’d predicted. Loyal (to the people) servants within the palace dismantled its infrastructure from the inside- locks were jammed, gates sealed, and secret escape routes collapsed.

What had once been a fortress of power was turned into a cage, leaving Edgar and Vivian trapped within their own walls.

Beyond the palace, Johnny roamed the streets, igniting the people’s fury like sparks to dry timber. His words were a rallying cry, weaving tales of justice and liberation that resonated with a populace crushed under Edgar’s rule. Crowds gathered in the streets, their anger swelling into an uncontainable wave and further encouraged by Johnny.

By dawn, the city was awake, and its people were ready to reclaim what had been stolen from them.

Inside the estate, you paced the length of your study, the minutes dragging by like hours. The room felt stifling despite the cool night air, your thoughts a cacophony of fear and hope. You had wanted to be there, to stand beside them in the heart of the action, but your men had insisted you remain safe and sound. The helplessness clawed at you, but you trusted them.

You had to.

The doors burst open, and Johnny stepped inside. His clothes were disheveled, streaked with blood and soot, but his grin was feral and triumphant and you could feel a matching grin forming on your face. The fire in his eyes was unshakable. “It’s done. The palace is ours, lass. It’s time.”

The throne room was a battlefield, its previous grandeur marred by the evidence of the rebellion. The alabaster columns still stood tall, but the golden trim was tarnished by smoke and blood. Soldiers that did not join the rebellion lay bound and defeated across the marble floors, their weapons scattered.

And at the center of it all knelt Edgar, expensive robes torn and stained, his crown discarded and dented, all glory stripped from him. Vivian clung to him, her once-perfect facade crumbling into a mask of fury and fear.

“This is treason!” she shrieked, her voice piercing the heavy air. “You’ll hang for this, all of you! Guards! Guards!”

Edgar ignored her, and raised his head as you entered, enraged. “You dare to challenge me?” he spat, blood his voice trembling despite his bravado. “You think you can rule this kingdom? You’re nothing but a woman playing dress-up, a woman with too much freedom-“

You stepped forward, the sound of your heels- Simon had bent down himself, kissed your ankles and placed them on your feet by his own hands- echoing through the chamber. The weight of your fury steadied your voice as you replied. “And you’re nothing but a tyrant who will be forgotten. You will not be remembered for your glory, or achievements. Just… a simple speck of dust.”

At your signal, Simon hauled Edgar to his feet with ruthless efficiency, his gloved hand gripping the torn fabric of Edgar’s robes.

Edgar’s sneer faltered as his gaze flicked to John, then to Kyle, whose cold, measured gaze spoke of a resolve that could not be broken. Finally, his eyes landed on Johnny, who leaned casually against the throne, his dagger spinning idly between his fingers, his grin sharp as the weapon itself.

“You’ve surrounded yourself with traitors, John-” Edgar hissed, but his voice wavered, betraying the fear he couldn’t suppress. “This bitch-“

“Watch your words.” John shoved his sword right in front of Edgar’s face, a scoff falling out of his mouth, while Simon chose to grip Edgar by the roots of his graying hair, pulling tight. “The mud at the bottom of her heels is worth more than you’ll ever do, Edgar. Do not speak of treachery when you, your wife, and your family had betrayed this kingdom first.”

The weight of John’s words hung heavy in the air as Edgar’s sneer crumbled, and for the first time, you saw fear in his eyes.

It made you… happy.

It made you happier to know what their fates were, watching Simon and Johnny drag them away. You’d have to kiss them extra hard later… including some other things, of course.

When the throne room was finally cleared, John ordering the soldiers and Kyle speaking to the palace servants, you lingered near the grand windows overlooking the celebrating city. The adrenaline still coursed through your veins, leaving you trembling.

The men found you there, the tension of the night giving way to a quiet that was almost more overwhelming.

Johnny reached you first, his usual teasing grin tempered with a softness you rarely saw. “You were bloody brilliant in there, sweetheart,” he said, warm and fond. “Never seen a tyrant look so small.” His hand brushed your arm, and his voice dropped, the edge of his accent rougher now. “You’ve got more fire in you than half the men I’ve known.”

Before you could reply, John stepped forward, his presence grounding you. He cupped your chin with surprising tenderness, tilting your face. “You’ve had more done tonight than Edgar’s done in all his miserable life.” He’s quiet, filled with pride.

Simon appeared at your other side. His gloved hand settled on your waist, unyielding. “You’re ours now,” he murmured, low and rough. “Our Queen. And no one- not a king, not an army- will ever lay a hand on you again.”

Kyle joined you last. His fingers brushed yours, as gentle as a whisper. His eyes were on the celebrations and songs, then on you. “You’ve given them hope,” he said softly, admiration shining through. “You’ve given us all hope, love. Let us retire for the night, hm? Everything else can wait until the morning.”

“For now,” Simon cut in, shaking his head, and his eyes were alight and alive. He looked at you in such a way that made you shiver, cheeks warm. His hands settled on your waist, squeezing. “I’d like to see our Queen on her rightful throne.”

No disagreements rang out.

And in the morning, the sun rose on a kingdom reborn.

Standing on the palace balcony, a crown on your head, you looked out over the gathered crowd. Their cheers rang out, echoing through the city with a fervor that sent pride up your spine. The people had come not just to celebrate the fall of a tyrant but to welcome the dawn of a new era.

As the golden light bathed the kingdom, you felt the weight of your new crown. It was heavy, but you were not alone; you had John, your King. Simon, Kyle, and Johnny. All of them were with you, supporting you.

You’d never want for anything else.

[thegreyjoyed]

[thegreyjoyed]

"no spam liking" stfu that's how i know my mutuals are alive smh

[thegreyjoyed]

Fallen Angel Masterlist

This is won't be a storyline fic, I just need to get some of these random ideas out of my head.

Things of note: reader is asexual but *not* sex averse, will come up with Gary. Ghoap will be a side thing but they are all end up loving reader in different ways.

Ceiling, Floor, Door

Sore Loser

Gotta Go

Hugs That Heal

Charmed

Meeting Soap

Grocery Delivery

Iced Coffee & Scary Movies

Something Stupid

Coffee Orders

Sweet Girl

New Glasses

Stutter

Really? You'll Wear It?

Nosey Nancy's

Ten Minutes Please

Job Offer

Frozen Toes

Three Small Squeezes

Scorched Earth

Finding Normal

Bed Snatchers

Sober Up

John, You're Buying A House

Sit Down

Ovulation is a Bitch™ - SFW

Ovulation is a Bitch™ - NSFW

Charcuterie

Cat Distribution System

Birthday Present *Has slight sexual content

If AO3 is more your jam, chapters will only posted in order as they are completed over there though so Tumblr will have the most and most up to date parts.

Masterlist Shout out to @saradika-graphics for the so cute dividers.

[thegreyjoyed]

Fun fact there is an official tarot deck set of house of the dragon! :) I just bought it today!! The cards are a bit thick but beautifully done and it comes with a guide book and a few cool card layouts!!

the greens + tarot cards