Ynghadin (Finale) NSFW

Rating: Explicit  Relationship: Female Elf/Male Minotaur  Additional Tags: Exophilia, Monster Boyfriend, Monster Husband, Interspecies Romance, Reader Insert, Manhwa Tropes, Second Person Perspective Content Warnings: Child Abuse, Physical Abuse, Kidnapping, Death, Murder, Abduction, Bodily Injury, Sex, Oral Sex  Words: 8109

After recovering from the incident, the reader is faced with a new dilemma: her wedding night. Please reblog and leave feedback!

Medieval Monsters: The Nobles 

It had been your mother who had sounded the alarm. She had come after the ball was concluded to check on you and say goodnight, and found you gone. She’d ordered the staff to tear the manor apart looking for you but it was clear within thirty minutes of searching that you weren’t anywhere in the mansion. Your father was gripped in cold dread when he thought to check Marcus’s cell and, when he found it empty and a guard dead outside, he, your mother, and Ynghadin left the manor immediately, not even bothering to put armor on. They hadn’t commanded the battalion to follow them; their knights simply got on their horses and followed their masters as if natural to do so. 

Your grandparents had left their home to you in their will, shown you how to care for the house, garden and the shrine they cared for all their lives...

No thoughts just alpha!ghost having difficulty knotting, right?

It's not that he can't, he's done it a few times before, but most of the time it's really difficult. People have certain expectations with an alpha. ghost ends up stressing over his knot so much he can't even focus on whatever desperate thing is under him.

Sex just...isn't for him, because obviously something about him doesn't work like it should.

Which is why it's so painful when you start pursuing him. Because ghost actually likes you, he wants nothing more to take you as his mate, but the thought of your dissapointed face burns him.

Or course he falls for the temptation, he always does. You keep pushing to scent him, keep brushing along his side. You whisper into his ear one night "c'mon, simon. Don't you want to have me?" Breathing heavily over his mating gland.

Ghost pushes you into the bed, breath hot against your cheek when he rumbles "yer gonna be a good omega for me, yeah?" Just like all good alphas should.

He nearly flinches when you growl. Low and deadly, lips curling back into a snarl.

"No." You hiss. In an instant, before he can even react, ghost is on his back with your claws on his throat "you call me alpha, got it?"

Ghost couldn't stop the knot if he tried.

"What– oh. Seriously?" You startle as cum hits your torso. Ghost is flushed bright red, body jolting as he knots properly for the first time in years.

"Sorry, sorry, sorry–" he gasps, face screwed up in a horrible mix of pleasure and anxiety. Terrified he's ruined it "I'm sorry, alpha, I didn't mean to–"

"Whoah. Hey, it's okay, simon." You soothe, nuzzling into his neck and purring deeply "I'm not mad okay? You just enjoy it."

Ghost spends the rest of his orgasm with your hands wrapped over his knot, alternating pressure to milk every last drop out. The whole time you're soothing him, muttering "it's okay, omega, you're safe. Alphas here, just let go."

And let go he does. Slipping into the first genuinely calm moment he's had with a bed partner in...well. forever.

Later, once he's had a chance to calm down, you'll ride him properly and give him a better reason to cry for alpha. Until then, you let ghost hump into your hand with a shaky breath.

The 141 cannot believe Laswell did this. It’s insulting enough that she assigns them a guide for a mission, let alone one with fur. Hybrids are still a new concept, especially in the military, why the hell Laswell believes an overgrown cat will be of any use is a mystery to the four men. 12 days trekking through southern Russia is rough enough as it is, wild animals, harsh weather, no comms, and now a beast they have to somehow trust to not eat them while they sleep.

——————

Part 1 - The Meeting

Part 2 - Tense Departure

Part 3 - Acclimation

Part 4 - Coexistence

Part 5 - Birthday

Part 6 - Sing Along

Part 7 - Summit

Part 8 - Free Fall

Part 9 - Fuel

Part 10 - Cold Nights

Part 11 - Home Turf

Part 12 - Old Friends

Part 13 - Repentance

Part 14 - The Great Divide

Part 15 - The Aftermath

Part 16 - Rebirth

Bonus - NSFW epilogue

————————

This series will be pretty heavy at times so TW for this series may include

[🏕️]

A camping ground that's specifically for werewolves experiencing heat or rut.

Just a good few acres of land in the woods were werewolves can really get everything out of their system.

It's a lot more enriching than just shutting themselves inside their homes until their heat/rut is over.

They can let their more primal instincts out, run around in the wide open space, howl as loud as they want and hear another howl in return from somewhere in the distance.

And of course, part of the area is open to people like you, who are very into their hike being interrupted by a ravenous, crazed monster.

Lightning Strikes Twice

The data indicating the average person experiences 3.4 attacks annually is misleading. You- who seem to find yourself in the wrong place at the wrong time several times a month- represents a significant deviation from the norm and should not be counted in the dataset.

(Seriously, if there was a punch card for civilian endangerment, you'd have earned a free mug and a commemorative sticker by now)

Or; in which Nightwing accidentally develops feelings for the anxious woman whose rescue has become part of his regular nightly routine by this point.

It’s a Tuesday and there’s a gun pressed against your spine.

Tuesday has always been the worst day of the week in your opinion- past the motivation of Monday, too far from the relief of Friday, just existing in this pathetic middle ground of mundane awfulness. And now, apparently, Tuesday has decided to really live up to its terrible reputation.

“Don’t move,” a voice hisses behind you, and you can smell stale cigarettes and alcohol. “Empty your account. All of it.”

You’re at the ATM on the corner of 23rd and Hayes, the one you’ve used a hundred times because it’s on your route home from your soul crushing data entry job. The street is unusually empty for 9 pm, but that’s Bludhaven for you; people have finally started learning not to be out after dark.

Everyone except you, apparently, because you’re an idiot who needed cash for the laundromat.

“I have forty three dollars in checking,” you say flatly, finger hovering over the keypad. “And maybe twelve in savings. You’re really not making out well on this transaction.”

had to reread😈😈😈

Seahorse mer!reader who was rescued by some rich asshole, and as a result becomes far too attached to the human caretakers.

Which, of course, means you only show interest in mating with said caretakers. Kyle, the pretty one who cleans your fins every other day, is sitting on the edge of the observation shelf with a nervous smile.

The first thing you notice is you can see his...clasper? Maybe? It looks kind of similar to ghosts, anyways. Your second favorite handler is standing off to the side with crossed arm and a smile, you give him a wave and he offers an amused one back.

The cleaning goes as normal, kyle running a brush over your tail and fins. As always you get a bit too into the feeling of warm hands pressing all over your body, chirping and humming in delight. With your breeding season so close, it's only natural you start nuzzling against kyles thigh.

Except, instead of pushing you away like kyle normally does, he glances at price and with a pinched expression rolls onto his tummy. Price says something, and with an embarrassed keen kyle reaches back and presents himself to you.

Oh. Oh.

With a happy trill, you swim up behind kyle, ovipositer already peaking out in excitement. You lie across his back, purring soothingly and rubbing at the tense muscles. You can't have your mate fighting it, can you?

Your tip slips in with ease, something that shocks you a bit considering how small he is. Every ridge slides in, only catching for a moment on his entrance, but a bit more pressure fixes that.

Kyle's breathing hard under you once it's all inside, poor thing. You haven't even started yet!

With a delighted roll of your hips, you feel the first egg stretch through the base of your ovipositer, traveling slowly through the thick tube. Kyle moans, tosses his head back at the first one. You're humming right along, pleasure running through you as kyle clenches.

Kyle takes the second, third, and fourth so well! But it seems he gets a little confused on the fifth, squirming away with a groan. You go to fix him, but price's voice cuts through. You're not sure what he said, but whatever it was has kyle swearing and settling back down.

He lies still for the rest, only making weird hiccuping sounds after the tenth. By the twentieth egg, he's completely settled. Your little mate rolling into his back, you chirp proudly as his prominent brood pouch. Rubbing at the soft eggs through it.

Price gives you lots of treats after that, tells you kyle will be gone for a little bit, and carries your mate off. You can't wait to see him again.

TF141 x Hybrid!You | "Coming Home" | Part 6.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | _________________________________________ 0500AM

Ghost was already awake somewhere, being judgmental in silence. Soap was making coffee and Price stepped into the living room, rubbing the last of the sleep from his eyes. Then stopped dead in his tracks because there, on the couch was Y/n curled up in a tight ball, tail wrapped around themselves like a sleeping fox... and nestled in his jacket.

Price's eyelid twitched. "You've got to be bloody kidding me..." Price reached out, his fingers brushing the fabric and Y/n's eyes snapped open. Bright. Reflective. Wild animal alert mode. A low growl rumbled form their chest.

Price: "You cannot be serious..."

Y/n bared their teeth a little being possessive. A warning.

Price whispered lowly. "That is my jacket."

Y/n's clipped claws flexed on the jacket.

Soap from the kitchen doorway. "Uh, Cap? They're guarding it."

"I can see that, Sergeant." Price muttered. He tried again, gentle. "Alright, easy now... Let go before you tear it."

Y/n hissed, tail thumped on the couch cushion. Hard.

Price: "I survived Afghanistan, Iraq, and every godforsaken mission in the book… and a half asleep hybrid on my sofa is what takes me out?"

Soap tried to hide his snort of laughter.

Price glared at him. "Johnny."

Soap: "Aye?"

Price: "Get. Your. Pet"

Soap raised his hands. "Nah, I think this one is on you."

Price exhaled sharply and crouched down, eye level with the hybrid. "Listen here, you little thief. I need that jacket."

Y/n stared.

Price pointed at it, calm but firm. "Mine."

Y/n hugged it tighter.

Price’s tone sharpened. "Give. It. Back."

Y/n's ears pinned back, not because they were scared. Because they were being stubborn.

Deeply, proudly stubborn. Price's jaw clenched. "I am not about to negotiate with a feral toddler."

Y/n growled again, this time louder, vibrating through the room.

Ghost’s voice came from behind, deadpan and unhelpful. "…Try offering food."

Price didn’t look away from Y/n. "Simon, I am not bribing a hybrid for my own jacket."

Ghost shrugged. "Then good luck."

Soap whispered. "You're gonna lose."

Price's eye twitched again. He inhaled deeply. "…Fine." He slowly reached into his pocket. Pulled out a strip of dried jerky. Y/n's growl cut off instantly. Their nose twitched.

Price smirked triumphantly. "Aha. I've got you now." He held up the jerky like bait. Then with his other hand, he gently tugged the jacket away.

Y/n released… reluctantly…

Price slipped the jacket out of their grasp and stood up, triumphant. "There. My jacket. No harm done."

Y/n grabbed the jerky and ate it. Then climbed off the couch and followed Price through the room like a little duckling. Price was not pleased with his new shadow. _

Just a pale glow over the trees as the safehouse disappeared behind them. Price drove, Ghost rode shotgun, Gaz was behind him crammed against the window. Soap sat in the middle seat, holding Y/n on his lap like a kid with an oversized cat that absolutely did NOT want to be there.

Y/n kept twisting around, staring out the windows, ears flicking at every passing bird, engine rumble, and Ghost's occasional irritated sigh.

Price took a long breath, then began The Talk. "Alright, MacTavish... you do realize what you've done."

Sopa: "Aye, I brought in a wee hybrid-"

"A wild, apex predator hybrid." Price corrected sharply, hands gripping the wheel. "One that tackles a stranger out of the woods. One that steals clothes. One that hisses at us. And you've apparently adopted."

Soap: "They didn't maul me to death."

Gaz: "That's not reassuring."

Ghost: "Should've left it outside."

Y/n hissed at him.

Ghost turned eyes narrowing. "Try it again."

Y/n shut up instantly.

Soap patted their head. "See? They're learning."

Price fist hit the steering wheel. "Soap, listen to me carefully. You didn't bring home a cat. Or a dog. Or a raccoon with anger issues. You brought home a creature designed to hunt and kill."

Soap: "They're harmless-"

"They're not harmless." Price snapped. "They're an apex. They're strong, fast, territorial, and unpredictable."

Gaz nodded. "Base command's gonna throw a fit."

"Exactly." Price said. "You think they'll let something like this walk around HQ? This is going to be a nightmare of paperwork. Containment protocols. Quarantine. biohazard checks. Behavioral evaluations. And YOU are responsible for every single one of them."

Soap: "Me?!"

"You brought it home." Ghost added. "You deal with the consequences."

Gaz leaned away from Y/n. "Maybe they won't notice? Maybe if it stays quiet-"

Y/n suddenly popped their head out of the window and let out a loud, echoing yowl at a passing bird.

Gaz: "Never mind."

Price groaned. "That thing is gonna get us court martialed."

Soap wrapped an arm around Y/n and pulled them back inside. "Sir, they didn't have anywhere to go."

Price's jaw tightened, just a bit. He didn't turn around, but his voice lost some edge. "I know that, Sergeant. I'm not saying we toss 'em out. I'm saying you need to understand what you're taking on."

Y/n crawled into Soap's lap, curled up, and pressed their forehead to his chest with a soft tired chirr. Soap smiled. "I can handle it."

Ghost: "We'll see." -- The moment Price parked at base, he shut off the engine, turned in his seat, and gave Soap a look so heavy it could’ve been classified as its own gravitational force. "Leash it."

Soap: "They're not a dog."

"Then harness it." Price corrected. "Before it sprints off and eats one of the rookies."

Soap sighed but reached into the backseat, as soon as the door opened, Y/n perked up like a feral meerkat. Ears high, eyes bright. Not good. Soap clipped the harness on... well, attempted to. Y/n puffed up, wriggling like an angry cat having none of it. Eventually, he got it secured. "See?" Soap grinned proudly. "Easy."

Price just gave him a look like: Just wait.

Ghost opened his own door just in time to see it happen.

Y/n hopped out of the car. Paused. Sniffed the air. Then 'WHOOSH' launched forward with all the strength of an apex creature whose DNA clearly included caffeine and murder. Soap was yanked like a flag on a moving vehicle. "WHOA!" He yelped as his boots skidded across the gravel. The harness strap went taut. Soap went horizontal.

Gaz winced. "Christ, they're dragging him."

Price walked calmly behind them as if this wasn't happening. "Soap!" he called, perfectly even. "Control your animal!"

"I'M TRYIN!" Soap yelled, sliding past a group of stunned soldiers.

The soldiers jumped aside as Y/n barreled by with Soap being used as an unwilling waterski. "Is that- IS THAT A PET?!" one of them shouted.

"BLOODY! WHOA, WHOA- HEY- STOP!" Y/n dragged him several meters, chasing pigeons who scattered in terror.

Gaz covered his mouth. "Holy! they're walking him like a dog."

Ghost shook his head slowly. "Embarrassing."

Price didn't move. He just watched Soap skid past him with the most done expression imaginable. "Apex hybrid." Price muttered taking out a smoke. "Should've bought a stronger leash."

Soap finally planted his heels, leaning back at a full angle like a man resisting a hurricane. Veins popping, face red, voice cracking. "PRICE- SIR- HELP DAMMIT!"

Y/n looked back at him and yanked again. Price didn't help. Ghost didn't help. Gaz took photos. -- Part 7? __ Part 6 has 1,242 words. I'm asking because I wanted to know whether you prefer longer posts or shorter ones. I can easily do either. I'm doing school mostly from home and have the free time to write. Also, you see where those dashes are. I put part 6, 7, and 8 into one post (part 6). Part 6 would've been 500 words, like the other previous parts.

__ @skullcrawler @goodsoup19 @sheepispink @z-wantstowrite @spiderfly-tree-rat @call-sign-runner @theonewhoshallbeunnamed @magicwriterinspo @the-alt-account-for-fics @hellishbimbo @weathered-and-worn @kerst666 @skullcrawler @my-anime-garden @atlasbatman05 @my-anime-garden @8venusflytrap8 @danielle143 @heyitsniki18 @imsolotrash @hypertail @ducks118 @1devilbat @misscaller06 @rinkashirikitateku @bubblyskootch @sparrowwithaquill @trapdoorfalcon @haruskrd @masterocelot58 @hypertail @stoner-slut @bubblyskootch @snuffstreams @lilynotdilly @kitty7kitten @lucienofthelakes @nothoughtsonlyfanfics @hypertail

TF141 x Hybrid!You | "New addition"

Part 1

-------------------------------------------------------------

The safe house door creaked open as Soap shouldered his way inside, still holding the silent apex hybrid against his chest like a rescued puppy instead of a potential bioengineered nightmare. "Lads. I'm back."

Every head turned.

Gaz looked up first, froze mid sip of water, and coughed so hard he almost choked.

Price's chair made a 'thunk' when he stood up quickly.

Ghost was the fastest to react his hand already resting on the handle of his knife. "What." he said flatly, "Is that."

Y/n's ears twitched. Their tail swished once, slow.

Soap beamed. "Found 'em."

"Found??" Gaz stood up, backing behind the table like it was a shield. "Soap, that's not a cat. That's not a fox. That's not anything with a leash at PetSmart. What is it?"

Soap shrugs.

Price inhaled slowly, setting his maps aside with forced calm. "Sergeant."

Soap: "Aye?"

"Why." Price asked, in full Captain Mode, "Did you bring an unidentified hybrid, an apex hybrid, into my safe house?"

Soap pointed at Y/n. "They didn't bite."

"That is not-" Price pressed a palm to his forehead. "Soap, for the love of- Soap. We do not adopt everything that doesn't kill us."

Soap frowned. "Why not? Seems like a good system."

The hybrid finally lifted their head, staring directly at Price with an unblinking predator focus.

Price stared back. "…Right then." he muttered. "This is above my pay grade."

Gaz was hugging the wall at this point. "It's looking at me. Why is it looking at me? Make it stop."

"It's not an it." Soap said and took a pause. "Their name is.... Y/N!"

Ghost: "Soap don't name it."

Price’s eye twitched.

Gaz whispered. "I'm not sleeping tonight."

Ghost leaned back in his chair. "I swear to God, MacTavish. If it bites anyone-"

"It won't," Soap said confidently.

The hybrid glanced at Ghost. Ghost stared back. The hybrid slowly, deliberately, showed a single pointed canine.

Soap nodded proudly. "See? They like you."

Ghost: silently swearing behind his mask.

Price exhaled. "Johnny… feed it. Clean it. Keep it out of my paperwork. And if HQ asks-"

Soap grinned. "We didn't see nothin?"

"No." Price growled, "YOU didn't pick anything up."

Gaz muttered. "This is how horror movies start."

The hybrid stretched, settling onto Soap's lap like a smug forest dwelling gremlin who just successfully adopted him.

Soap scratched behind their ear. "Welcome to TF141, wee beastie."

______________________________________________

Part 1 | Part 3 |

______________________________________________

@skullcrawler @goodsoup19 @sheepispink @z-wantstowrite @spiderfly-tree-rat @call-sign-runner @theonewhoshallbeunnamed @magicwriterinspo @the-alt-account-for-fics @rosegold-darling

I may or may not make this a thing. But neurodivergent reader with speech issues and a chronic need to care for people, and a tendency to copy things that people you love do.

If you are a writer and like this idea, feel free to use.

Master list

You needed to care for someone. It was like drowning if there wasn't someone to care for. Your friends said it was your love language, but you don't think you're supposed to feel like you're dying, unable to do anything but stare at a wall, just because you can't show love.

But if that felt like death. Losing someone or being betrayed because of your care, your trust, your naivety, that was your own personal hell, and it would replay every second it could.

That's why you entertained the idea. It wasn't supposed to go far. You figured they would cut you off as soon as they realized you weren't qualified.

Still, a team of hybrids with each having unique needs. It was a dream for you. Endless amounts of care to give trust between them, strong. Just being present as a handler prevented certain things. So you applied.

When the interviewer started asking questions. You answered honestly your reasons for applying. You were sure you would be turned away, but her eyes lit up like she struck gold.

A formality, she said. Price, the dragon hybrid and captain of the group, was the real leader. All they needed was for you to be there for legal reasons.

Next thing you know, Price was leading you around the base explaining everything. He seemed tense, and you hadn't seen anyone else yet. However, he was being kind, so you nodded along, speaking every so often. Not enough, you're sure, but it was an attempt. You eyed the scar where one of his wings should be, trying not to let him notice your obvious interest.

Then it came to the other hybrids. He had a look you couldn't describe but understood. He was giving you their files, and clearly he didn't want to.

"Sir could I just have their medical? Anything else relevant just tell me. No need to dig." You noticed after you said that his hands were shaking but he did just that and gave you the medical files. Every injury they got and when. This was something you could work with to satiate the need to care.

You noticed him watching as you sifted through the files. Then you read something. A gasp, then Soap's file fell to the floor. electrocution burns on his neck... Quickly closing it, you place it back on Price's desk.

Now your hands are shaking. Price seems shocked, but you could not bring yourself to care. He is trying to talk to you, but you stare at the closed files. A sense of red-hot anger fitting just under your skin.

"I will have to work my way through these slowly," because you need to know who to protect them from. because they are yours now. Price is looking at you like a puzzle, but at least he is less tense now.

Over the next few days, you find yourself watching them train and slowly, painfully read through the files. It suddenly makes a whole lot more sense why the interviewer, a friend of Price, was so excited about you. They have never had a good handler other than the one before you.

So you fill your roll. At first, you do not talk unless spoken to. They get used to you, and you subtly study them. You are studying their species and anything related, including magics. You care. Now, just to find the correct way to care for them.

A few months pass like this before something triggers your need to care front and center.

Ghost drags Soap back from a mission, pale and barely conscious. You follow them to the medbay. A fly on the wall. Silver dust had been thrown into his face. he had breathed it in. You watched as the med team did everything they could. It would take months for his body to purify itself on its own. The team stayed by his side till early morning when he finally stopped throwing up. You did not stay. He was safe with them for now, and you knew something to help. You had to help. You had to care.

The next morning, before any of the others are awake, you are standing beside his bed. He had woken up the moment you got close, his ears pinned back. He was really too weak to speak. But this would help you know that as you set the bottle of moon water in his hand, "drink."

Soap felt like death. He couldn't even speak, and for some reason, you were there and the team wasn't. He did not like that one bit. None of them trusted you. Not that you had ever tried to earn their trust, but you had been here for months and never given an order.

He was suspicious of you, to say the least. Were you playing the long game? Just waiting to get him alone. He did not want to drink whatever you had given him, but he knew the consequences of defying a handler. He was not strong enough right now, and the team was not there to stop this. Whatever this was.

So he forces his arm up and drinks it. It tastes like water. Were you testing him to see if he would listen? Was something else in the water? You watch him drink it all, then take the bottle back.

"I'll come back same time tomorrow, apparently I get early access to you because I am your handler." With that you are out of the room and Soap starts to dose off again.

TF 141 x Royally confused Royal Reader

As per usual, just an idea, and writers can take it and run with it. Just let me know where to read your work.

The reader starts mostly accidentally collecting valuable men to make up for their lack of political, defense, and noble knowledge.

Inspired by @rawme-price post .

WARNINGS: READER HAS A PANIC ATTACK

You thought you were going to die when the royal guard dragged you from your home in the middle of the night. There was no reason for them to come after an orphaned commoner, but still, you were brought to the castle in nothing but the thankfully thick nightclothes they found you in.

When you got there, it was like a tornado of people everywhere all at once, talking over each other, pushing you from room to room. The maids rushed to bathe you, and a physician took notes on your physical health while they did so. It made no sense, but you were in no position to fight back. Most of these people were high-ranking nobles. So much as raising your voice could land you in deeper trouble.

Then they dressed you and pushed you into a room where the King, a man only 20 years your senior, sat in a wheelchair. This could not be right. Only a year ago, the king had led armies into victory. He cried at the sight of you. "You look just like your mother. Bless it be that I shall soon be reunited with my love."

You had grown up in a monastery, left on the front steps. Today was the day you learned how that came to be. Your father, the king, and your mother, a noble, had you out of wedlock. Frowned upon but not completely out of reason for royals. Your cousin, aiming for the throne, threatened your mother. She had fled the castle, leaving you at the monastery. Your cousin "tied up loose ends," leaving your father to believe you had never even been born.

Your cousin served as a temporary ruler while your father was at war. However, he could not do as he pleased and could not overturn your father's word. So, as his hunger for power grew, he planned how to remove your father completely. He almost succeeded. Five months ago, he poisoned your father, but as your father faded, he bragged about your mother's demise. Rage consumed your father, and he found the willpower to end the man. The clatter alerted the guards, and your father lived. He was now, however, paralyzed from the waist down and had a much shorter life expectancy.

So you were now going to be Ruler...

Slowly, you were taking over Royal Duties and learning the ropes. However, it quickly became apparent that you were lacking certain skills and people were more than happy to take advantage of your lack of knowledge.

One Such person is King Shepherd. The man always seemed to be talking down to you, even though it was his country that lost the war due to his actions. He still had not paid the price for the original trendies he broke, and peace was shaky at best. Then one day, he offered up a list of willing, eligible bachelors for you to choose from as a stand-in for what he owed. It was laughable. Sure, the men were honorable nobles and war heroes, but they were all well above the normal age range for you. It was meant to be an insult, no doubt.

But a thought came to mind. You needed loyalty within your court. Though the idea of a harem was unusual for you, it was normal for royalty. Who would be more loyal than people whose lives were intricately tied to your own? So you looked into the people on the list. John Price was a captain in King Shepherd's army. It was odd that he was willing to give up a man who worked so close to him, but still, the captain had knowledge in the areas you lacked.

18+

Okay, imagine this…

Simon Riley and his iconic skull mask, but it’s dark romance and the reader has no idea why he even wears the mask.

The reader likes the mask anyways because obv. But just imagine….

Things have been on the rocks for a while. You and your boyfriend moved to this new apartment to try and save up some money, but it was in a shitty unsafe part of town. Not to mention the fact that your boyfriend has some god-awful spending habits and couldn’t seem to care less.

“This is way past our budget.” You said, trying not to growl the all too familiar words. You stared down at the receipts from his “grocery” trip. He went a hundred-fucking-dollars over budget buying shit that was not only unnecessary, but was stuff that only he liked.

“I’m telling you,” he whined from the couch, his eyes not leaving the tv. “I just forgot. Baby, I work so hard, I know we’re saving but I need some indulgence every now and again.”

I think every lesbian who says she wouldn't date a bi woman is functionally on the same wavelength as men who say they would only marry a virgin

it all boils down to "penis steals women's purity" and there's literally no non-shitty way to believe that. being gay doesn't give you a get out of jail free card for being sexist

War prize!ghost who was the strongest soldier of his kingdom, could take down armies on his own. His kingdom wilfully gave him up as part of a peace treaty, a special request from the crown.

Ghost who is now a concubine. Who meets the others and notices an odd pattern. They all bear scars of battle. Only three of them, miniscule to his own kings collection, now four including him.

Price gets ghost situated, smiling apologetically at the revealing silks he is given to wear "the crown prefers something to look at. Consider yourself lucky," ghost glances at another concubine, johnny, who wears little more than a collar and a sheer sash that does nothing to hide the golden cockcage he sports. At least he seems happy with the appearal.

The strangest part, though, is how unlike a concubine he is treated. Sure, he wears the clothes, but that's about it. Ghost is free to roam most of the castle so long as kyle or price are with him. He hasn't once been called to your chambers. "the crown prefers willing bedmates." Kyle had explained once "johnny tends to handle that well."

He and the others eat with you at your table, as though they were equals. You allow ghost to eat his fill, encouraging him to take all he wants, which is a considerable amount given his stature. It's the best food he's ever been given.

Then, he finally gets the call. Ghost is summoned to your office, wearing fine silks and skin glowing from nourishment, but his face is one of distrust. "Your majesty"

"Ah, ghost, come look." You wave him over to your desk. "Would you consider this a favorable position for a town?"

What. Ghost freezes, unsure, but you just tsk impatiently. He glances down at the map. "Uh– yes, your majesty. Easy enough to defend, given the right posts are made."

"I see. Thank you, ghost" you reach up to squeeze his bicep, then give him a firm pat "you're dismissed."

Oh.

You didn't want ghost as a concubine, or not exclusively, you wanted him for his knowledge. Suddenly, ghost is alot less upset about the whole situation. He nods to soap under the desk as he walks out.