hi!!! i figured i’d make an introduction since im posting my first fic tomorrow & i’d like to reach more people!
you can call me mel! i’ve posted my writing on my main blog before, but i wanted to make a side blog for my fanfiction. i mostly write x reader, but i have written more canon compliant character studies as well. i currently write for jjk, dc (nightwing & red hood), tasm!peter parker, and a dabble of one piece, steve harrington, & stardew valley (sam my beloved <3). a majority of my work is made with a fem & gender neutral reader in mind.
i’m working on a few different WIPs at the same time, but i work full time & i’m doing my master’s full time so i will probably take a while to post/update stuff! i do try, it just sometimes gets pushed to the side.
i don’t take requests, but if you have an idea that you think i’d like, you can always feel free to put it in my inbox, i just can’t guarantee that i will write it.
some hard no’s for me are DDLG, incest, rape/noncon, pedophilia, & aging up characters that are minors. i don't really like writing heavy nsfw anyways, but i don’t mind it from time to time.
choso's such a quiet guy. stoic, unreadable, and practically like a statue of a man.
but now, with your hands wrapped in his hair, those tied sections coming loose between your fingers?
he shudders. moans into his hand, his knuckles whitening from how hard he's gripping the sheets. he begs for more, more, more. more hairpulling, more sweet words whispered into his ear, more you.
he gets especially needy like this when you wave the strap-on you own in front of his face, asking if he wants it tonight, and his eyes'll light up, mouth quivering as he says 'yes, please' and props himself on his elbows and knees for you.
how's he supposed to stay quiet when you're rutting deep against his insides, your soft tits pressed to his back, hands sliding up his chest to his throat?
"oh my—ngh—god," he sobs, tears streaming down his face, choked little cries spilling from his lips as he buries his head into the pillow, the sound muffled. "p—please—"
his body goes limp against the bed, knees nearly giving out as you keep thrusting the pretty pink silicone riiiiight against that spot that's got him whimpering your name, his cock strained and aching so heavily against his stomach, slapping against it with every push of your hips.
choso's done for when you squeeze his throat a little, fingernails digging in just enough to leave him gasping for air. your other hand snakes down to his cock, thumb circling tantalizingly slow along his slit, and you tell him what a good boy he is for you. how cute he sounds.
you pull his hair back, tightening your hold on his makeshift pigtails, just enough so his red-rimmed eyes can gaze into yours, fat droplets welling in them. "you gonna cum?" you murmur, tugging harder to punctuate your sentence.
"y—yes," he whines brokenly, and he releases seconds later, cock spurting out thick, hot bursts of cum, all against your hand, the bed, his tensed up stomach. choso moans out a string of 'thank you's', 'sosososo good,' eyes squeezed shut.
he heaves after he climaxes and whimpers quietly when you pull out, chest rising and falling unevenly, face flushed, that inky mark across his nose all smeared. you smile and kiss his cheek, and tell him how good he did.
the night continues until he's knocked into sleep from overstimulation, literally.
When Zayne sees you arguing with a tall blonde man who’s leaning much too close to you, he assumes you’re being hit on, in a very unpleasant way. It’s only when he notices your hand gravitating to your phone, and the way you nervously glance over your shoulder does he step in.
“Is everything alright?” He places a hand on your lower back, making his relationship to you obvious to this stranger. Bright red eyes find him, and a part of Zayne wonders what kind of genetic mutation causes such a thing.
“Everything is perfect, right kitten?” Zayne frowns at the familiar sounding pet name, while you bristle at it. Clearly, this is not your first interaction with this strange man.
You sigh, glancing up at Zayne with an air of weariness. He can read your irritation clear as day, but there’s something else hidden, something he’s only seen when the two of you first got together.
“This…is Sylus.” You admit. The name rings a bell, and when you nod at his silent question, he understands.
This is the man who put you in grave danger all for the sake of his own needs.
Zayne doesn’t think it through. It’s unlike him to be so spontaneous, but the anger he had felt when you told him about your experience in the N109 zone rises immediately.
His ears are ringing, and his knuckles ache. You’re quick to grab his right hand, stopping him from throwing another punch. You’re looking at him with wide, shocked eyes, though there’s a twinkling of pride in them.
“Zayne!” You gasp, checking his hand for an injury.
Sylus is still turned away, spitting some blood from his mouth. He turns back, the red mark on his cheek slowly fading. A Cheshire grin forms on his face, one that sends an odd thrill down Zayne’s spine.
Thinking about being sandwiched between Satoru and Choso in the middle of a good boy competition, except it's not really a competition because Choso isn't competing. He's winning and it's pissing Satoru off.
They both sit on their knees in front of you, Choso the picture of patience, waiting for whatever command you give. His eyes are soft and half lidded, looking up at you with pure adoration pouring from his heart shaped pupils.
Satoru keeps fidgeting and side eyeing him because how the fuck does he do it? Satoru has tried endlessly to copy him, to be the one to win your affection first for once, but he can't. It only makes it worse that Choso is so god damn nice about it - always kissing Satoru afterward and telling him he'll let him go first if he wants to next time.
But that's not really up to them, is it?
"C'mere, Cho," you say, beckoning him forward with a wiggle of your index finger.
Satoru's eyes widen, opening his mouth to complain about how you're 'picking favorites', just to snap it shut when you direct a stern look his way. He doesn't want to end up gagged again. His jaw tenses instead, averting his gaze so he doesn't have to see the way your pussy glistens in the dim bedroom light as your spread your legs for Choso.
Envy burns hot in his chest. His eye twitches. His cock throbs.
Fuck.
Satoru expects Choso to start shuffling forward on his knees and the sound of him lapping at your pussy to quickly follow as per usual, already drawing in a deep breath to sigh out the second Choso attaches his lips to your clit, but that's not what happens.
"No."
Satoru's head snaps to the side, eyes widening again at the sound of the world's best boy being defiant for once.
"What?" Is your only response, straightening your spine to sit up in your seat as the word registers, just as shocked as Satoru that Choso isn't already whimpering between your legs.
"I said, no." Choso clarifies, as if he wasn't heard the first time. A smirk is stretching his lips, his head tilting to the side.
It takes everything in Satoru to not chuckle, his eyes darting back and forth between the two of you. If he remains neutral, he'll probably still get his reward and oh-
Oh.
That's what he's doing. He is so getting his dick sucked for this.
You look away first and sit back in your chair. This is uncharted territory and Satoru is praying you'll take the bait. Things are silent for a few moments, your displeased hum the only sound to break the silence.
You pick at your nails considering your options, not even looking at them. Satoru takes the chance to press a quick kiss to Choso's cheek and Choso nudges him away, a bashful blush heating his face.
When you finally look back up, they've schooled their expressions like the interaction never happened - Choso's gone back to his defiant little head tilt and smirk and Satoru's put on his best puppy eyes.
"Fine," you say, getting comfortable in your seat again now that you've decided on a course of action. You start that sinful spread of your legs, never breaking eye contact with Choso causing Satoru's heart to still in his chest. There is no fucking way you're going to choose him first again.
And then:
"Toru baby?" Your gaze drags to Satoru, your bottom lip caught between your teeth.
"Yes ma'am?" It's nearly a whisper, his voice cracking at the end.
i know the olympics are over and also ive been going through it and havent been writing but i wanna write a figure skater!gojo x hockey player!reader falling in love at the winter olympics fic sooooo bad
you push him, get right in his face and curse him to hell. you're a wrecking ball, unable to be stopped and sylus, even in the sweltering heat of his anger, enjoys it. even when you're calling him names and threatening to leave him, he basks in this torrential pour of emotions. because it means you're alive and well and healthy enough to test his patience. patience that will never run dry because for you, he has all the patience in this universe and the next.
but it's different when you cry.
you rarely cry during arguments, if ever. nothing seems to break you; you're unwavering in a thunderstorm and will hold your ground until sylus, inevitably, submits. but crying is a horrible sign—it means that you've been struggling to hold yourself together and one wrong word has sent you spiraling.
you try to hide it.
you look away from him, purse your lips so he can't see the bottom one wobble. you close your eyes tightly as if to will away the tears but it only works for a second until you're shattering.
into pieces in front of him.
"sweetie," he tries softly, reaching out for you. he's unsurprised when you slap his hands away. "sweetie, come on."
"don't," you warn, voice heavy with unshed tears. you swallow thickly. "don't...don't even try that, sylus. i'm so fucking pissed at you—"
sylus tries again because he knows you, knows when he's truly crossed a boundary. his arms coil around your trembling form, his body baring the harsh hits you land on his chest before they stop after a minute. then your breath is hitching, restrained sobs clawing at your throat and sylus inwardly scolds himself.
curses himself to that very hell you curse him to.
he doesn't want to make you cry; he absolutely abhors it because crying brings so much pain. it cracks you open, leaving you horribly exposed and sylus...he did this to you and he could shot himself in the heart for it. over and over and over again until it amounts to the hurt he's caused you.
"i'm so sorry, my love," he murmurs, albeit desperately, because he needs you to understand that he never means to make you cry. "i'm so sorry."
"i hate you so much," you spit out woefully, and it lacks enough heat for sylus to know that isn't true. the fact that you haven't pulled away and slapped him further proves that too.
"hate me all you want, sweetie," sylus says, a sad smile curving his lips. "i can love enough for the both of us."
˙⋆✮ pairing: warlord!sylus x non-mc reader part one
˙⋆✮ cw: fem!reader, non-mc reader, warring states period au, warlord!sylus, princess!reader, arranged/forced marriage, marriage of convenience/political marriage, enemies to lovers, unrequited love, angst, mc (mei) is sylus' first wife and she's already dead, possibly ooc sylus, stepmother!reader, luke and kieran as sylus' children, conspiracy, second chances, unbeta'd, unedited
Part Two | Part Three (Coming Soon!) | LADs Masterlist
warring states period au. your kingdom falls to sylus' army, and you, the only surviving princess, are taken as a war prize. he offers you a choice, marry him and legitimize his claim to your throne, or watch your people suffer under occupation.
you choose your people.
you meet sylus when you are twenty, kneeling in the ruins of the great hall of your family's palace with your hands bound and blood on your ceremonial robes. they call him the silver dragon at court. he is known to be ruthless and unstoppable. his army has swept through three kingdoms in two years, and yours is the latest to fall.
he is not what you expected.
not the barbarian warlord your tutors warned about. instead, you learn that he is cultured, strategic, and very intelligent. he speaks four languages including yours, quotes your kingdom's philosophers, and looks at you with eyes that see everything.
he tells you that he needs a wife with royal blood. someone who can legitimize his rule over your territories. someone your people will accept. and you are the only surviving member of the royal family. your three brothers died in the siege. your mother and sisters took poison rather than be captured.
your father fell on sylus' sword in this very room where they brought you to face him.
you only survived because your maid tried to save you, smuggling you through the servants passages while chaos erupted throughout the castle. you never made it past the outer walls, sylus' solders dragged you back alive and they killed her for it.
it's her blood that stains your clothes.
the choice is simple, marry him and your people keep their lands, their customs, their dignity. refuse and they suffer the consequences of continued resistance.
it is not a choice at all. it is a sword to your throat dressed up as negotiation.
but you understand duty. you were trained for this since childhood, as a princess you have always known that you would be married off for political alliance. you just never imagined your husband would be the man who destroyed everything you loved.
you accept.
the wedding happens within a week because it is politically necessary. you wear red silk embroidered with silver dragons, his colors, his house's sigil. the ceremony is attended by his generals and your surviving nobles, everyone watching to see if you will break.
you don't.
you kneel beside him with perfect posture, speak your vows with a steady voice, accept the ceremonial cup of wine without trembling.
you are a princess. you know how to perform your duty.
afterward, he leads you to his chambers. you have been prepared for this. you know what happens on wedding nights. you steel yourself for pain, for humiliation, for being claimed by the man who killed your family.
but sylus is unexpectedly careful. he consummates the marriage because he must, there will be witnesses checking the sheets later, but he is not cruel about it. when it's over, he rises and dresses without a word.
you learn that you have your own chambers. he won't require you to share his except when protocol demands it. you should feel relief.
instead, you feel hollow and sad.
this is your life now.
a marriage of political convenience to a man who sees you as a useful tool. you are the legitimizing figure to his conquest and nothing more.
but you are not stupid, and you are not helpless.
your eldest brother's tutor, master wei, taught you in secret for years. statecraft, economics, military strategy, and even how to use a dagger to protect yourself. all the things princesses were not supposed to learn. he believed you had a good mind, one that should not be wasted on embroidery and poetry alone.
master wei was gone now, another unfortunate casualty of sylus' conquest, but you are thankful for the knowledge he has imparted on you.
you are going to use everything he taught you to survive this marriage.
because if you are to be sylus' wife, his empress, then you will become one worth remembering for generations to come.
your life as sylus' wife begins.
he keeps his word about separate chambers. you only see him at formal functions, at state dinners, or at court audiences. he is polite and respectful but still distant. you are only his wife in name, he treats you more like a valuable political asset, a hostage, that requires proper monitoring.
but then, three weeks into the marriage, he surprises you by requesting your presence at a council meeting. he wants your perspective on the grain distribution issue. the northern territories, your former kingdom's farmlands, are resistant to his new taxation system, threatening to burn crops rather than comply.
you understand what he does not.
the people are afraid. they think he will strip their lands and redistribute to his own people. they are doing this because they feel they have nothing left to lose. you suggest letting them keep your former kingdom's traditional taxation structure for one more year, showing them he is not here to destroy their way of life, building trust before introducing gradual change.
he actually listens, considering your words carefully and changing his plans based on your suggestions.
you prevent a rebellion with a tax policy and agricultural economics.
afterward, he starts seeking your counsel regularly. it becomes routine, summons to his study after dinner where you discuss governance, trade routes, and diplomatic marriages for his vassals. he values your knowledge of your people's customs, seasonal farming patterns, historical precedents.
his generals stop looking at you like an ornament. they start to listen when you speak about matters not only regarding your kingdom, but the whole empire as well.
and slowly, you start to catch glimpses of the man beneath the famed and feared warlord. his vision for a unified empire. his surprisingly progressive ideas about meritocracy over birthright. his dry sense of humor that surfaces when he is tired.
you realize that you falling for him slowly and against your will and against all reason.
falling for a man who destroyed your world but is building something new from its ashes. falling for stolen moments of the strange partnership you have and the way he says your name like it matters.
but sylus always keeps a careful distance.
he never touches you except when duty requires it. never seeks your bed except during the monthly schedule the council dictates, ensuring you both fulfill your duty to the empire.
you think maybe he is doing it out of respect for your grief, for your kingdom, for your family whose deaths he caused.
or maybe, maybe, he just does not desire you.
you do not know which possibility hurts more.
then a few months into your marriage, you finally meet his sons.
luke and kieran are ten years old, identical twins with sharp minds and sharper tongues. they have been at the southern garrison with their tutors, but sylus brought them to the capital for the autumn festival.
they study you with unsettling intensity, these miniature versions of their father. you tell them gently that while you are their father's wife, you know they already had a mother and you are not trying to replace her.
they inform you matter-of-factly that their mother died three years ago. their father says everyone dies eventually. they ask if you can play strategy games, if you can ride, if you can fight.
you spend the afternoon with them, teaching them a board game from your kingdom, letting them beat you at archery, answering their relentless questions. they are smart, curious, a little feral. you love them immediately.
later, sylus finds you in the garden with the twins, all three of you laughing at some joke one of the twins said. he stands in the shadows, watching with unguarded fondness and something wistful in his gaze that steals your breath.
then he sees you looking and the mask slams back into place.
but you saw. you saw. he is not as unaffected as he pretends to be.
but then, you finally learn about his first wife, mei, from the servants.
mei was sylus' first wife. beautiful, kind, and beloved by everyone. she died of a sudden illness three years ago, one day healthy, the next consumed by fever. the best physicians that sylus' summoned failed to save her.
sylus loved her.
everyone says so. he was so devoted, so faithful, and so shattered by her death.
there is a shrine dedicated to her in the west garden. you see him there sometimes at dawn, standing before her memorial tablet, face carved from stone.
you understand now why he keeps his distance.
he is still in love with a ghost.
you should not care.
this is a political marriage, you knew that from the start but you do care desperately.
you are in love with a man who will never love you back because his heart is buried with his first wife.
Zayne's Ver | Caleb's Ver (being rewritten/edited) | Xavier's Ver (Next) | Rafayel's Ver (Coming Soon)
˙⋆✮ a/n: there will be a continuation for this🙃 feel free to share your thoughts and comments
caleb's westworld au part three is still in the works, i'm having a bit of a hard time writing it because of some plot changes, but i am trying my best to finish it as soon as possible. raf and xavier will also get their own versions of the arranged marriage au, though i am still debating if i should turn them into full fics.
it’s 6:08am. the sun isn’t even fully up yet. and baby yuji is already in full goblin mode - sockless, giggling, and currently trying to climb nanami’s leg like a tree trunk.
nanami is in his work clothes. hair styled. dress shirt crisp. tie halfway done.
“he wants your tie,” you mumble.
nanami glances down. yuji is clinging to his knee, making grabby hands.
“you can’t have papa’s tie,” nanami says, crouching down. “you’ll chew on it again.”
yuji immediately tries to bite it.
nanami sighs.
“see?”
you snort into your mug.
eventually, nanami picks him up - effortlessly, with one hand under his bottom and the other steadying his back. yuji squeals, clings to his dress shirt like a koala. and nanami just… lets him. presses a kiss to his chubby cheek. holds him like he’s the most fragile, precious thing in the universe.
(he is.)
“you should leave soon,” you murmur. “you’ll miss your train.”
nanami looks at you.
then at the clock.
then back at you.
and then he sits down beside you with a baby on his chest and a tie still undone.
“they can wait,” he says softly.
you smile so hard it hurts.
you shift closer, curling into his side. baby yuji hums softly, chewing on his own fingers now instead of the tie. your head rests on nanami’s shoulder. his arm wraps around your waist without even thinking.
he’s still in his dress shirt. still in his slacks. the most put-together man in tokyo, probably. and yet here he is, willingly trapped under a sleepy baby and a sleepier spouse, forehead resting lightly against yours like this is all he’s ever needed.
and maybe it is.
he presses a kiss to your temple.
“love you,” he mumbles.
“even when i let your son chew on your expensive italian tie?”
The fastest way into Satoru’s wallet pants heart... wallet, is a trick you learned from Suguru early on in your relationship with them.
You keep refreshing the tab on your phone hoping to see the price tag come down on the item of your desires but if anything it feels like it’s only going up, up, up and out of your grasp. You sigh and lock your phone, setting it in front of you on the mattress. You bury your head in your arms, letting go of the dream of owning the illusive item.
Strong hands grip your hips and flip you onto your back, Suguru’s playful expression engulfing your view as he lays on top of you. His face falls when yours doesn’t light up, asking you gently, “What’s wrong?”
“It’s dumb,” you say, shaking your head.
“It’s not dumb if you’re upset. Tell me.” His expression is so soft, so gentle that all you can do is sigh again and confess, showing him the listing on your phone.
“Ask Satoru.” Suguru makes it sound so simple.
Your cheeks heat at the idea of it alone. Realistically, you know you can ask him for anything and he’d happily give it. The insane price tag is what holds you back. There is no way you could ask for something that expensive.
“I can’t.”
“You can.” Suguru sits up at your hesitation, his knees on either side of your hips. “Listen, he’s just a man with a stupid amount of money and what do men with a stupid amount of money like to do? Spend it on pretty things.” He leans forward, his face in yours again to press a kiss to your jaw as he whispers, “That’s us.”
“I can’t,” you repeat, tilting your head away to get a better view of the man sitting on top of you.
Suguru rolls his eyes and huffs. “Do you want it?”
“Not tha-”
“Do you want it?”
“I don’t need it.”
“I didn’t ask if you need it. Yes or no, do you want it?” He raises his eyebrows, making a poor attempt at not smiling while he waits for your answer.
You swallow down your shame, avoiding eye contact as you admit, “yes,” through gritted teeth.
“See, that wasn’t so hard.” He presses a kiss to your lips and stands.
You push yourself up on your elbows and watch him free his hair from the bun he keeps it in, long hair falling over his shoulders and down his back. You gulp when his shirt comes off next, nothing you haven’t seen before but god, he’s fucking breathtaking.
6’3 of lean muscle, raven locks down to his waist, sharp jawline and cheekbones.
The kind of beauty that wars have been fought over.
Suguru takes your hand and pulls you to your feet.
“Let me show you how to charm the man who has the money,” he says, guiding you down the hallway and into the living room where Satoru sits on the couch, lost in whatever’s displayed on his phone screen.
You lean against the living room wall, observing the way Suguru moves across the room to settle into Satoru’s lap. He plucks Satoru’s phone from his hand and tosses it to the other cushion, commanding his attention. Satoru’s face blushes a bright, pretty pink as he takes in the sight of Suguru and all of his raw sex appeal.
“Toru, baby,” Suguru purrs, pressing himself closer to Satoru, guiding his hands to his waist. “I need your credit card.”
“Mmm, yeah?” Satoru hums, his hands roaming over Suguru’s sides and around his back to lock him in place. His pupils are already swallowing his irises, glazed over by lust. “What for?”
Suguru cages him against the back of the couch, his hair falling in a curtain around them. He rolls his hips down into Satoru’s just to hear him choke on the air he tries to suck in when their dicks brush; they’re only half hard but it’s enough. “That doesn’t really matter, does it?”
“You’re gonna bleed me dry, gorgeous.” Satoru surges up to plant his lips on Suguru’s, just for Suguru to pull back.
“Who says it’s for me?” Their eyes turn to you, still leaning against the wall. You swallow thickly, feeling blood rush to your cheeks. Satoru chuckles and returns his attention to Suguru, attempting to bring their lips together again. Suguru grabs his jaw before they can connect, just barely letting them brush when he says, “Ah- card first.”
Your clit throbs watching the interaction, completely hypnotized by Suguru the same way Satoru is. You’re pulled out of your trance and forward by Suguru holding out a little silver piece of plastic to you that you take too long to realize is Satoru’s card.
You stumble over your own feet on you way to the couch, gingerly taking the card from Suguru’s out stretched hand. You whisper a ‘thank you,’ and you’re not even sure who you’re thanking or what for, but you press a kiss to Suguru’s cheek regardless as his tongue explores Satoru’s mouth.
You turn to head back to the bedroom and enter the digits on the card into your phone on a somewhat questionable website, only to be stopped by Satoru’s hand grabbing your wrist.
When you turn back to face him, Suguru is leaving open mouthed kisses over his jaw and neck, his chest heaving as he pushes his hips up into Suguru’s.
“At least kiss me before you rob me blind.” He smirks up at you, eyes half lidded. His mouth falls open around a deep moan when Suguru finds a particularly sensitive stretch of skin, and there’s that throb in your clit again.
Your breathing is becoming just as uneven as Satoru’s. You sit next to them, your knees tucked under you and lean forward, your lips capturing Satoru’s.
“Thank you, Toru,” you whisper against his lips when you part.
I wanted to think up of another story idea for Caleb and I couldn't help but be inspired by other lads fic writers doing medieval fantasy type ones so yeah! ;)
Right now, the idea is very blurby so who knows it'll prob be shorter or with less parts than my other ones depending on how inspired I feel!
Nonmc was part of a subset group of princesses that came from various provinces who in turn grew up together by attending etiquette classes, balls, and tea parties at the royal capital. The idea was that by being around the same or similar ages with other girls of royalty, it would invoke friendship and comradery for years to come.
It worked for a time, especially at the delicate stages of childhood and preteen life. Many princesses formed their own little groups or cliques, spending their days creating these strong bonds.
Nonmc happened to be apart of a group that had the adventurous and sociable MC, the impromptu leader for them. Everyone gravitated to her, including nonmc. MC was different than most, preferring to play in the mud or swing a sword even while wearing a frilly dress.
An indirect factor to this friendship with MC was getting to see the knight-in-training Caleb, MC's childhood friend and son of the Knight Captain for her royal family.
All of their friends seemed to flock towards Caleb as he was training to become a guard for MC, almost always trying to catch his attention even when he was on duty. It was clear that many had a crush on the slightly older boy, and nonmc was no different.
Nonmc was more considerably shy than her more boisterous group of friends, her glances of adoration towards Caleb being behind trees or a book during study hours.
As they all grew up, the crushes that the princesses had for Caleb seemed to multiply. A lanky boy who barely fit his armor was now a young man with a bulky physique that proved he was fit for eventually leading alongside his father.
During balls, he was asked time and time again for dances or gifted ribbons meant to court him, yet he refused each time. The only one who ever got such a chance was MC, his best friend at this point.
Like many other young woman, nonmc watched wistfully as her crush seemed happier in MC's presence. Something that's been clear since they were young but many thought could be changed with time.
As years passed, Caleb was sent off with many other knights to fight against the civil wars brewing between provinces far and wide. Everyone was saddened to see him depart, many of which were there on the day he left with the massive brigade. Among them was nonmc, who could only look on from the crowd with worry and hope that he'll return safely.
After three years on the battlefield, it was Caleb's name that stood atop the many victories leading to peace for the provinces. His strategies in battle and steadfast alliances made his once decent title reach that of the rankings for royalty.
Fanfare and praises were a given when he returned with his brigade, a parade held as he rode in on a mighty steed. He wore intricate armor, the silver and gold decorated in scars of battle. A dark fur trimmed cloak covered his broad shoulders, the clinking of chains and medals jostling with each step his horse took.
Many royal families saw his accolades as an opportunity, making them offer up their daughters for marriage. They persuaded him with gold, the finest wine and weapons... Some buying and writing their way into getting his attention.
Nonmc's family was no different, her parents had no shame in trying to bribe Caleb's father or falsify documents to say that his daughters should be first in line for his choice in marriage.
Nonmc's older sisters could see the appeal in having a renowned knight who would elevate their lineage even if they don't particularly like him, but the thing was they knew of nonmc's crush on him from childhood so they convinced their father to have her be chosen.
It seemed like their arranged marriage was to be written. Caleb would be given nonmc's hand in marriage and become a part of their royal family.
Nonmc should have been happy with the outcome, but the way it was done made her... upset. She didn't like how her parents forced him to choose her, neither did she like that her older sisters had her be picked almost out of ridicule.
To make it all worse, she knew Caleb seemed heartbroken over this. Despite how much time has passed, he still looked at MC the same way from afar. Nonmc thought it was a given that he'd rather have chosen her instead.
So, rather than be selfish with this opportunity handed to her on a silver platter, she decided to take matters into her own hands. She took a pouch that had a large sum of gold, a travel pack, and a suitcase of some belongings, before bribing a few maids and a guard to help with her plan.
On one early morning, where she should have been woken up hours later for breakfast and a schedule full of wedding preparations, she instead chose to run away from home. She left a letter on her desk saying she was leaving for good and to not find her, hoping that it would be enough to keep them from sending a search party.
After walking through some sunlit forests, she found an older couple on the road with a traveling wagon filled with goods. She decided to pay them some gold so she could hitch a ride in the back, letting them dictate the direction she'll head off in.
As the wagon rocked and jostled her sitting body amongst crates of potatoes and other vegetables, she could only think that she was doing the right thing by acting as adventurous as she believed MC would be.
Nonmc wouldn't have to worry about strenuous politics or forcing Caleb into marriage, it'll be like a fresh start! Maybe she'll go live out in the countryside where no one knew her, even sell flowers or trinkets for a living!
And hopefully, Caleb will get to choose MC this time! Or so she believes.
Hana, Ochako, Shoko, Kairi, Sakura...the list is long, and I know it's something that will never change 💔 Any female character who even comes close to the MLM ship will be treated as:
-the couple's therapist
-the home-wrecker
-the queer best friend
exactlyyy, they never just get to be their own characters with their own issues & interests, they’re just devices to support the ship and im so tired of it happening in every single fandom
Well for one, he snores. Loudly; like a chainsaw—nay, a lion. They echo around the room when you try to sleep, and you almost swear the neighbors are wondering if the people they live beside suddenly became rhinoceroses or something. You usually end up with your pillow pressed over your ears, your face flat on the bed as you groan, muffled by the sheets.
Secondly, he talks in his sleep.
And he says weird things too. Like, "why do marinated the eggs look like my balls" or, "can you pass me my slipper," or, "bow down to the ultimate fushisaur, grrrghh."
Yeah that's right. He roared. In his sleep. Toji Fushiguro.
But worst of all?
His body takes up the whole bed.
You're not even kidding. As in, you're trying to sleep, your eyes shut tightly, and sighs leaving your mouth on multiple occasions, but—get this—half of your body is suspended on air.
Honestly, you don't even know how you haven't fallen yet. Fallen for Toji, yes, but falling because of Toji? No, no thank you.
But apparently, your husband takes your frustrated thoughts as a cue to move his legs—spread so wide you're sure he's already splitting like a gymnast—and lightly nudges you.
You roll off the bed and onto the floor with a quiet "thump", lying flat on your back on the carpet and glaring at the ceiling with renewed annoyance.
Your eye twitches.
"Toji Fushiguro, you little-" you growled, getting up on all fours and shoving your husband's muscular, slumbering body. "I swear I'm gonna push you off this freaking bed."
And you did.
Toji's limp body rolled off the bed, almost gracefully like a ballerina flopping theatrically down on the stage before he jolted up and out of his sleep, looking at you in confusion from the other side of the floor beside the bed.
"Sweetheart?" he said drowsily, blinking slowly.
"Toji," you huffed with clenched teeth, crossing your arms as you lay yourself on the bed.
"Sweetheart," Toji sighed, crawling back up on the bed and snuggling his nose on your neck—you didn't know your husband could get this clingy. "I'm lonely, kiss me."
"No," you mumbled, despite your frown softening. "You pushed me off the bed; you don't deserve a kiss."
"M'sorry," he muttered into your shoulder, kissing sweetly at the spot under your ear down to your neck and making you squirm. "Won't do it again, I promise."
You sighed. Toji made it really hard to stay angry for long.
"Fine," you rolled your eyes, leaning over to press a light kiss on his scar. "But only this once."
Toji held you closer to him, his body pressed on yours as he let out a contented hum. "G'night pretty girl."
when ppl ship a non canon mlm ship where one of them has a canonical gf (or even just….woman exists in proximity) and you have the obvious misogynists who bash her for being in the way. but ppl who try to act like they don’t hate women will have her ship them, be their therapist basically, and deal with all their BS is just as bad like yall will never see female characters as their own independent characters that deserve to be appreciated outside of a propagator of your mlm ship
