#under the oak tree fanfic

[m-ayo-o]

₊⋆ my #tags ⋆₊

art and fic reblogs. thoughts and chats

₊⋆ events ⋆₊

selfshiptember 2023, kinktober 2023, emoji event, 666 event

₊⋆ jujutsu kaisen ⋆₊

megumi fushiguro. toji fushiguro. naoya zenin. kento nanami. satoru gojo. suguru geto. choso kamo. yuji itadori. ryomen sukuna

₊⋆ bleach ⋆₊

ichigo kurosaki. isshin kurosaki. byakuya kuchiki. kisuke urahara

₊⋆ death note ⋆₊

light yagami.

₊⋆ various ⋆₊

riftan calypse. aki hayakawa + more

₊⋆ thoughts ⋆₊

smutty ramblings; various x reader / your fave x reader

[ellery-six]

Oh, my husband is SO FINE :)))))

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I finally got around to making Hebaron’s character reference sheet, I will make some #utot storybook pictures with him soon :)  I LOVE him, he’s the best! xx

[theimpurelily]

At Someone’s Beck and Call

Word Count: 2 ,608

Notes: Takes place during chapter 22 of Riftan POV

Next > | Table of Contents

Riftan felt a lump start to form in his chest as he watched the imposing gates of Cryoso Castle slowly crept closer. It was a sight he never had wished to see again. He should be back at home, back at Anatol. The thought of staying away even one more day didn’t sit right for him. Yet, here he was. Forced to be paraded around for the duke and the Eastern nobles for one whole month.

He knew the only reason why he held that land was for formality’s sake, to set him up as the next commander of the Remdragon Knights but he took on his role of protecting his lands with pride. The half a year of fending off raiders from Dristan had been the longest he had ever been from his lands.

I should be there.

Riftan hated the thought of having to potentially cozy up to the nobles. Even more so he hated how Ursuline Ricaydo keeps trying to convince him to stay away from Anatol even longer than necessary just to gain another title. He doubt that the son of such a prestigious noble family could ever understand someone being satisfied with being just a landed knight. You could call him entitled or ignorant, Riftan would just call him stubborn.

Out of the four hundred members of the Remdragon Knights, Ursuline was possibly one of the most determined to get Riftan to take the place of their commander, Evan Triton.

It didn’t feel right.

It wasn’t his age that bothered him, at twenty two he was considered a man, nor the fact he had only joined their ranks four years ago. It was his blood that made him hesitate, made him fear he would bring down the reputation Triton had worked so hard on. Thanks to his dark complexion, there was little in the way of hiding the fact he was a half-breed. He was seen as tainted by southern pagan blood and most nobles made no move to hide their disdain for it, for him. How could that not affect the Remdragon’s reputation.

The only hang up was was the unwritten law of the Remdragon Knights. The hierarchy within the order was purely determined by skill not by birth. Even if he refused the position, the others would not likely accept it, Triton wouldn’t stand for it. Riftan knew the man wasn’t ignorant, he knew what being a half-breed meant to most people yet the man seemed determined to ignore it while Riftan was determined to keep the Remdragon’s standing in tact. No one would truly want someone with his face to lead.

A grub should keep to the ground. Looking higher will only bring misfortune.

Riftan smirked to himself.

His stepfather’s warnings have always stuck close to his heart. A perfect way to ground himself whenever he felt like looking up. He had nearly ignored the mans words several times, whenever she was involved. Riftan was just lucky to have headed his words before he made himself too miserable.

They would always just be illusions, magic. It would never be real. She could never be real, only a memory.

The lump in Riftan’s chest swelled until it reached a new intensity at the thought of her. He tried to will it away but them arriving at the gates did little to help.

Triton must have sense his uneasiness and gave Riftan a bitter smile.

“Try not to be so obvious about your disdain of the aristocrats. It would be best not to make an enemy of the Eastern nobles, especially the duke of Croyso.”

“You worry for nothing.” Riftan replied dryly, “How could he acknowledge me as an enemy when I am not even human in his eyes?”

The commander turned to the front once more, his expression somber. At least the man wasn't denying Riftan's words.

The knights crested the gentle slope that led to the castle. The Croyso sentries, who had been awaiting their arrival, swung them wide open as the knights approached as the sound of bells from the castle’s clock tower rang out, as if it was to alert the occupants of their arrival and not the time.

“Finally,” Hebaron muttered. “I can’t wait to eat and drink as much as I want.”

The burly knight’s voice brimming with anticipation was nearly drowned out by a ringing.

Riftan took a sharp breath, every one of his senses was set on edge. It had been ten years since he had last been here. Old memories, unwanted memories, stirred awake at every familiar sight. His eyes caught sight of the shrubs and colorful flowers lining the paved path. Their blooms reminding him of the withered crown he had tossed onto the road.

After dismounting and entrusting the reins to the servants, the knights climbed the marble steps in single file. They passed through arched doors that towered nearly six meters (20 ft) high and found themselves in a hall glowing golden in the light of a thousands candles.

The expansive space seemed to contain every luxury one could possibly imagine. A chandelier hung from the domed ceiling, illuminating everything below, and each window was fitted with expansive glass. Riftan found himself scrutinizing nearly everything while trying his best not to compare it to his own home. He cared for Anatol, but set it next to Croyso castle and anyone would laugh.

“I have heard the victorious news. You have done well.” rang out a haughty voice.

The duke sauntered down the stairs escorted by his personal guards and began to talk to Triton. Riftan tuned him out as he continued to look around the space, finding his skin crawling with each new detail of wealth discovered.

Dozens of servants started to scurry down the stairs so suddenly brought him back from his thoughts. The knights soon followed them across the grand hall while a group of giggling noblewomen observed them from the second-floor landing.

Riftan wondered if they were the wives of the knights and nobles attending the banquet. Feeling like a spectacle, he scowled in irritation. It was at that moment that his gaze snagged on the woman who stood at the end of the hallway.

Riftan felt the world stand still. Although the shadows she was hiding in made it impossible to distinguish her face, he could tell that her hair was as dark as red wine. He gulped through his constricted throat as he unwittingly took a step toward her. It had to be her,who else would have hair like that?

To his delight the woman seemed to grow curious as well. She tilted her head to the side, causing her impossibly red hair to cascade and dance around her. With hesitant steps, she started to come out from the shadows. He could feel his promise of not searching her out, of not giving into any more illusions slipping away as her features started to become clearer. Just as he was about to get a better look at her Gabel’s voice brought him back.

"Is something amiss?" Gabel Lachzion was looking at Riftan with a quizzical expression. Riftan managed to regain his composure and turned around.

“No, it’s nothing.”

What was he thinking. There was no telling if the woman was her or not. Regardless of the answer, it was none of his concern. He strode away while berating himself for dwelling on a decade-old memory.

Don’t choose misery

Even when he was back in his room, however, his anxiety did not go away. He tried to wash away the sinking feeling in his gut, but the cool water did little to still his mind.

I don’t want to be here.

It was a childish thought but one he couldn't ignore. All this place held was bitter memories. If Riftan had it his way he would stay locked up in this room until the visit was over. The only issue was that the view out the window also seemed to mock him.

With just one glance outside he could spot the path he would take while hauling carts of horse dung and firewood. It suddenly occurred to him how much his life had changed while everything here seemed to have stayed the same. The gardens, the castle, the damned clock tower, all was the same as he remembered.

A bitter smirk played his lips as he thought of the woman in the hall.

As much as he wanted it to be her, it made little sense. She is the daughter of a powerful duke. Her place would be at court not here.

Lost in thought, he was vacantly staring out the window when the commander’s voice came through the door.

“May I come in?”

Letting out a sigh, Riftan turned away from the view and lazily opened the door to find a rather unsettling sight. Triton standing in immaculate, banquet-ready attire that made Riftan cringe.

The commander swept his eyes over Riftan and sighed. “I knew I’d find you like this. Look at the state of you.”

Riftan squinted down at his attire. He had on the sturdiest and cleanest pieces in his possession. Considering the last time they had been able to gain any clean clothes was months ago, his superior should be proud that Riftan was able to find something so clean and hardly smelling of sweat and horse. When he cocked a brow as if to say he did not know what the problem was, Triton shook his head in dismay.

“Were you planning on attending dressed like that?”

Riftan leaned against the doorpost not liking how much of Triton's noble background was showing, “I’m not attending.”

“Calypse, you don’t expect me to let you stay here tonight.”

Riftan shrugged. “Why not, I hate events like these.”

“You are the man who bested Ludgal, people expect you to attend, the duke expects it.”

Riftan ran a hand though is still damp hair. For how many raiders Ludgal had under his command the final confrontation with him wasn’t anything to brag about. He had a tougher time fighting Hebaron at the tournament in Balbourne.

“I doubt the person holding the banquet really wants me there.”

Triton’s expression grew stern at his cynical reply. “I intend to have you succeed me as commander of the Remdragon Knights. That is my wish and the with of everyone in the order. Which means I need you to meet some of the nobles’, their approval is necessary.”

Laying a steady hand on Riftan's shoulder, as if to reassure him, though what he said next did little to help.

“I can’t let you do as you please this time. You’re going”

Riftan stayed quiet for a few seconds before shaking his head.

“I’m not suited for the role. You should pick someone with the appropriate lineage-”

“Are you saying you will not abide by our order’s rules?” Triton said stonily, it was his one and best argument against Riftan.

Riftan sighed and moved aside to let the man in. “What do you want me to do?”

Riftan’s greatest mistake that day wasn’t hoping he had seen her again, No. It was letting Triton into his room.

His superior's background in nobility was shining through and it was leading to a headache.

Despite Riftan seemingly giving in they had fought, of course. Triton had to know he’d feel more at ease being thrown up against a few basilisk than attending this banquet.

Riftan had tried to convince his superior to have Nirta attend in his place if he truly wanted someone for the ladies to fawn over. Triton quickly put down that idea, stating he didn’t even want the unruly man to attend.

He didn’t even give Riftan a chance to argue for Ursuline. The man was determined to have Riftan join the banquet, believing it would help appease the noble. It was wishful thinking, they would learn to hide their disdain for him but Riftan would never earn their respect. No amount of silk socks and embroidered shirts would change that.

Riftan felt disgusted. He looked as though some nobleman had stolen a Southerner just to put them in formal clothes for entertainment. A court jester for them to mock. His one solace was Triton didn’t force him to wear the feathered hat the squire handed him. He wondered if he could get away with burning the thing if it was still on his bed.

All eyes flew to him as soon as he stepped into the hall. He fought to suppress a scowl. The hundreds of nobles gathered in the palatial room starred as though he were a spectacle to behold. It made him seethe with anger, his feelings of being there solely for them to poke fun at the half-breed was starting to feel justified.

The commander began introductions one by one and, more often than not, they seemed taken aback by his appearance, one or two even commenting on it.

I wonder how long it would take until the word pagan is used.

Riftan was desperately started searching for an escape when he spotted the Duke of Croyso at the center of the hall. Or, rather, the woman in the dark green dress standing next to him.

Riftan felt as though he had been struck in the head. She should be at court, not here. Taking in a sharp breath he tried to still his mind, determined to not let it affect him. Despite this, his face blanched the moment he laid eyes on the red-headed young woman who was looking straight at him.

He took in every inch of her. Though she was still small in stature, with her head barely reaching his chest, she was much grown from the little girl who had come up to his waist. For some reason, his mouth felt parched. He tugged at his suddenly tight collar.

“Best if we formally made your introduction to the duke as well.”

Noticing Riftan’s tension, Triton shot him a warning look. Riftan barely managed a nod. The commander then marched him to the center of the hall and he couldn't explain why, but his feet felt heavier than ever.

Riftan found he couldn't pay attention to either the duke or Triton as they started on their formalities as he watched the girl.

Riftan was mortified by how loudly his gulp resounded in his ears. Wiping his sweaty palms on his trousers, he willed himself to stop staring. However, like steel to a magnet, he felt his gaze being pulled to her. He noted her elaborately braided bun, her delicate neck, and slender shoulders. Her waist was so tiny he was sure he could wrap one hand around it. Finally, his eyes stopped at the cascading hem of her silk dress.

The little girl in his memory had perpetually unkempt hair. She often used to get it caught in tree branches, which would ruin her braids until they puffed up like clouds. Her penchant for wandering the gardens also meant that her dresses were always covered in dirt and grass stains. Was this regal woman truly the girl who used to collect pebbles and feathers in the raggedy pouch she took everywhere?

He stood in a half-trance until Triton’s voice broke through.

“May I inquire about the lady behind you?”

“I see I have yet to introduce my eldest daughter,” the duke replied, pushing the timid girl forward. “This is Maximilian.”

The woman standing before him was the same yet different from the one in his illusion. Though there were traces of the little girl in her round forehead, cheeks, and small chin, golden freckles now dusted her low nose and cheekbones, and her large gray eyes looked up at him quizzically.

Riftan knitted his brows, was she just like the others? Finding him to be some odd spectacle to gawk at or…

Her already large eyes widened even farther as a look of surprise took over her delicate features causing Riftan’s heart to race.

No.

[ishaslife]

Unbroken Oaths: Chapter 2 now up on Ao3

The second chapter is now available to read here.

[hanasnx]

ohhh my god i haven’t seen anyone talk about riftan in so long??? i used to be so obsessed with him. i wanna sit on his face with his bigass hands locking my thighs around his head so bad

FACE SITTING — riftan calypse.

MINORS DNI 18+ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ WARNINGS: fem + nervous reader | dom riftan | established relationship | sexual content | face sitting + riding | a little nose riding | use of good girl.

"Wait, wait just a second—" you protest, appealing to RIFTAN CALYPSE's sense of mercy with your touch on his hair, urging his neck to rear so you can raise yourself.

A simple and curt hum of, "Mm-mm," seats you right back down paired with his strong hands squeezing your thighs in a yank. He knows you're getting cold feet, and he won't let you retreat. His impatience has worn that sense of mercy thin, denying you a breather because he knows what it veils: your uncertainty. When you're with a man like Riftan, indecisiveness will not be tolerated. As soon as you feel the muscles in his arms untense, relaxed by your bare heat seated directly onto his lips, you try one more time. Your legs attempt to unfold.

"Riftan, I can't sit down." you whisper with distress, and those silvery eyes strike you with a single glance, flickering to your gaze high above him yet you still feel small.

"Why?" his deep voice rumbles through you, and you swallow your dry mouth. "Afraid you'll hurt me?" His tone is surprisingly condescending, as if daring a little thing like you to hurt a beast like him. You're incapable of such a thing, as he rudely points out, and you press your lips together to quiet your brewing protests. Harsher this time, his biceps swell as he forces you down, pinning you there with his overpowering strength. You gasp as his mouth opens, catching your folds with wet and eager warmth, lapping at your hole with a grateful fervor. His chin is rough against such sensitive tissue, and you squeeze your eyes shut as he eats you out.

It's difficult to focus. Between the pleasure fighting through your anxieties, you brace your hands on either side of his head, trying to ease the pressure on his neck from your weight in any small way you can. He noses your clit affectionately, swiping a kitten lick through your slit that runs a shiver up your spine from the change of pace.

"Where are you running off to?" he questions amusedly, and you can feel his smile stretch against you. "Keep trying to escape, my love, and I'll have to punish you." it's devoid of conviction, yet you believe him. However, you're sure his and your definitions of punishment are very different. A tremor surfaces in your thighs as you futilely battle his hold on you. "Are you really that scared of me? Don't you feel good?" he coos, the nuzzle on your bud sweetly fuzzying your brain. A long stripe from his tongue makes you whine, clutching the pillow under your hands. "Don't hide from me." Those thick callused fingers dig into the flesh of your thighs and you wince, understanding his tone to be a demand, so you will yourself to relax. Uncomfortable, you push through it, straightening your back to sit solely on his face without a crutch.

"That's it. That's a good girl."

[cuntastic-mrs-cunt]

writing sidina and hebaron is gonna be a BLAST!!!

[ofwraithsandwords]

Excerpt from a Halsin x Tav/OC fanfic tentatively titled A Mountain Cradled.

[beanswrites]

Chapter 5 of "Moments Unwritten" - Burn For You

New chapter of "Moments Unwritten" is now posted!! what's with me nowadays and adding a touch of angst in everything?? idk why, angst just makes even fluff and smut better

pairings: Riftan Calypso x Maximilian Calypso (from Under The Oak Tree)

tags: fluff, a littleee angst, implied smut, ao3, finally some communication between these two

summary: Maxi feels as if Riftan is, although unintentionally, neglecting her, so she tries to attain his attention once again by wearing his tunic.

click here to read the whole thing!!

“Missed me? What do you mean you “missed me”? I haven’t gone anywhere!”

His wife sighed a little, tears pricking up in the corners of her eyes. One of them rolled down her cheek, the tear glowing as the fire from the fireplace lit up her saddened face.

“Maxi… What happened? Are you… Upset with me?” He asks a little unsure, wiping her cheeks of tears with his thumbs gently.

“R-riftan… Do you… Do you not f-feel for me?” Maxi barely asked, frightened by the grave silence that followed. Her vision was getting completely blurred with tears with each passing second of her husband's silence.

“Feel for you?” The large man repeated in a low voice, his tone confused and hurt.

Max bit her lip, avoiding adding anything else, yet she knew she had to. Now that she brought this topic up, she had to finish it.

[susurrusinperpetum]

The Red In Peace

Pairings: Kuahel Leon x Maximilian Calypse (from Under The Oak Tree)

tags: action, bits of fluff here and there, angst, adventure, AO3, WIP

Abandoned, disposed, rejected.

Her memories swirled around like a blizzard full of deja vus. She still remembered that night when she felt as if the world had ended, wondering what she had done wrong, how she could belong and stop feeling like a pariah in her own home, how she ended up being a useless thing. Wondering why she was left; wondering why she was empty.

The world was kind to some people yet cruel to others. Some were meant to be thrown, lost and broken, left behind, while everybody else moved on, as if misery and darkness belonged to those stories bards sang.

She used to envy those who lived that fantasy. Ignorants of the world’s malice, living as if the most tragic event in their lives would be the next banquet, which jewelry or fancy dress they would use, or the subsequent political union. Once, she would have longed to live that life, desperately trying to change everything about her to make it happen. What could she have given to feel seen, accepted, that she belonged and was useful just once?

[purplecatsketchs]

Maxi fanart for my Under the Oak Tree short fanfiction "Restrain and Passion" set in the regency period

[cinning-at-midnight]

Ahem, TW: Meltdown/Panic Attack content.

Riftan comforts Maxi during a meltdown/mental health episode.

Language is used to describe the emotions/impulses brought on by such an instance. Based loosely on my own experiences as a ND ADHD/Autistic adult. If this content may be triggering to you, please use discretion!

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My pulse racing, I touched my forehead, where a dull pain bloomed. I could feel a flush spread across my cheeks, as the realization hit me:

I'm having one of those "episodes" Father scolded and punished me for.

I thought back to moments ago where my stress was raised, and came away empty. Memories failed to form as I became swept away in a wave of emotion.

My fists clenched tight, and I knew I needed an outlet for my aggression. Before me, was only the stairs leading up to my bedroom.

My knees were weak, and with a huff, I clumsily slumped onto the floor. Often, I would get dizzy if I overexerted during a meltdown and I was grateful to be seated. Tired, but tightly-wound and cranky. So, so cranky!

My fist tapped the floor, but the sound and the action were not appealing to my senses. I slapped the floor with bare palms, and the tiled surface produced a clap.

Awash in my overstimulated state, I began fiercely slapping the tiles, and felt euphoria take away some of the edge of the frustration.

Footsteps echoed in the foyer and my eyes raised to meet his. My hands flew to my face and I stumbled to my feet, begging them to take me up the stairs.

However, in my urgency, I tripped on my skirt and hit my forearm as I fell. I grit my teeth tight and fought the urge to cry, but felt the sting of tears forming. Closer still, the footsteps approached, until a hand was on my shoulder.

"Maxi--"

A soft and gentle voice, despite my inappropriate behavior, caused my tears to fall. I could not make them stop, even as he carried me to the bedroom, and laid me on the bed. I breathed deeply as I could, to calm my sobbing. Riftan's voice would make me cry anytime he spoke. It was reflexive.

I should be getting lashes for this, Maxi thought to herself. No respectable lady behaves that way-- has outbursts like I did.

Warm, calloused fingers brushed my sweaty hair away from my face. I could not bring myself to look at him, because of my shame and emotionally fragile state. In the silent room, only my heavy breathing could be heard, as I begged my tears to stop.

Riftan sat with me the entire time, barely touching me, and without speaking. He must have realized that his words made me more upset. I was not able to stomach his compassionate concern.

"Maxi," Riftan whispered into my ear. I opened my eyes to see the room had grown dark, as though it was late into the evening. A bath had been brought into the room, which was further evidence I must have fallen asleep at some point.

"Let me bathe you," he said, almost pleading.

"You're covered in sweat and your tears. I don't want you to catch a cold."

Weakly, I nodded. Riftan made quick work of undressing the both of us, but I could tell he was using a more delicate touch than usual. He washed me as I curled my body into his lap, resting my head on his chest. I let the warm water ease away the last of my emotional and physical tension.

"Maxi, can we talk about it?" He asked.

I chewed on my bottom lip and neglected to answer.

A feather-light kiss touched my shoulder. "You looked so pained, and I want to know why." Riftan murmured his words into my damp hair. I squirmed where I sat, and reached forward to the opposite edge of the tub. His arms tightened around me, coaxing me back against his chest.

"Please, talk to me." Riftan said.

I exhaled heavily, "I-it happens from t-time-to-time. I d-don't always k-know when it i-is about to h-happen."

Riftan grabbed my hand under the water, gently squeezed my fingers, and kept holding our hands together. "What is it?"

I considered the question and the many ways I could possibly answer. At last, I said, "A-an e-episode."

Unsatisfied, Riftan turned me to my side, while in his lap, so that I was able to face him. I could see the crease between his eyebrows, and I again thought of a reply.

"It's s-similar to p-panic, but it c-comes out a-as anger at t-times." I threw my face in my hands. "Th-this is m-mortifying."

He brought my hand to his lips, and gently kissed it. "Thank you for telling me." Riftan reached for a towel and began to stand and dry us off. He helped me out of the tub and I felt even more vulnerable than usual. Like I had exposed more of myself than I thought was capable.

"How are you feeling now?" He asked me, when I was dressed in my night clothes and he was brushing the knots out of my hair.

"Mm, b-better," I responded. "T-truthfully, it can t-take a long while for m-me to feel n-normal again a-after I've…"

My voice trailed off as I remembered the intense emotions that I was displaying while Riftan watched, unbeknownst to me. I looked down, and bunched my hands into fists on my lap.

"I-it's okay. I c-can b-brush my h-hair," I muttered and turned to take the hairbrush. My hand outstretched, but lay empty as Riftan refused to give me the brush. I tilted my gaze up, away from the floor, and looked into his eyes. They looked so pained and worried. I could feel how empty of expression my face must have looked, as I was emotionally drained.

"Maxi, I--" his lips pursed tightly closed, and I looked away. "I worry about you. I know you know that. Maybe it's overbearing of me, but at least for tonight and tomorrow, will you let me take care of you?"

My shoulders gently shook as the most silent tears fell onto my nightgown. Riftan wrapped his arms around my shoulders, and then continued brushing my hair until there were no knots. When he was done, he let me lay on the bed as he asked the maids to bring our meals.

His worry must have been palpable even to the castle staff because of his gentle and tired voice. Riftan grabbed extra blankets to keep me warm, and the added weight was nearly comforting enough for me to pass out immediately. My eyelids grew heavy and he kissed my forehead.

"Rest for a bit. I'll wake you when the food is ready." I could feel his weight leaving the mattress and my hand reached for him. "P-please, s-stay." I said softly.

"I don't want to disturb you," Riftan replied, hesitantly.

"N-no. You m-make me f-feel s-safe." I muttered in my tired speech.

I could feel him quietly chuckle, as he lifted the blankets to join me. "Whatever the lady wishes."

[m-ayo-o]

knight & royal

18+ Riftan Calypse is left a little worse for wear after receiving treatment from his princess wc 790 selfshiptember; 13

[au: Riftan ~ regular knight/regular as 6ft 5 perfection can get] was trying to write Megumi. this damn man just wouldn’t stay out of my head. prolly not super accurate just Riftan lovin

You realise the ‘soft spot’ you have for one of your royal knights is quickly spiralling into a full blown crush when he arrives back after a long expedition.

He’s all roughed up, and you just want to rush to his side.

You try to maintain your composure, but internally you’re screaming– one, because you’re overjoyed that he’s back within the safety of the castle walls. Two, because he looks awful, so cut up and bloody, like you’ve never seen him before.

You can’t resist the urge to seek him out, stepping into the medical unit where there are several nurses tending to the knight’s wounds.

Including his.

You’re already making a scene just in being here, but when you approach the nurse and politely ask if you can take over she’s reduced to a blubbering mess. You just quiet her down and instruct her to look after the other men.

So you continue where she left off, washing, bandaging and dressing his wounds silently, carefully, precisely.

The other knights and nurses have long gone as you finish up the last bandage.

He admires your work, exclaiming that you’ve done a much better job than the nurses usually do, commenting on your advanced healing technique you learned from the kingdom’s wizard. 

You agree that you’ll take over tending his wounds every time he returns from battle, once again expressing how glad you are that he’s back before taking your leave.

⋆⁺₊⋆

Despite all your due care and attention to his wounds, you fail to notice the state you leave your Knight in.

He all but hobbles to his barracks, stumbling into his private room like some drunken fool.

All his armour is long gone, now he’s quickly stripping away his loose, cotton attire to release his burning, hot body.

You healed him, but left him aching; in his chest, in the pit of his stomach, in his throbbing, hard cock.

He feels the all consuming desire to grab and squeeze himself till he’s cumming to the thought of you.

But he can’t.

You’re his devoted royal, his princess, the reason he fights.

And he’s your knight; loyal, dependable, honourable.

But there’s absolutely nothing honourable about what’s passing through his mind right now.

He’s finally naked, lying on his bed, feeling the ache from the base, right to the tip of his erection.

“ugh–” he brings a hand over his eyes as if he could make the images of you disappear, his chiselled, handsome face covered in such a pretty blush.

He’s so glad you can’t see him right now.

What a mess you’ve made of him.

And so he lies there. Uncomfortable. Undecided. Waiting.

He’s bathed, he’s shaved, he’s eaten, he even attempted to cut his own hair– after being away for so long these things get out of hand.

But nothing is working.

Nothing can distract him from the thought of you.

So he takes to his bed again, feeling rested and cared for in every way, save for one.

But now he’s ready for a deep slumber, his eyes drowsy, his mind fogging as sleep claims him.

Only to dream of you knocking on his door and entering his room, touching him like you were before, your beautiful hands all over his scarred, muscular figure.

His subconscious treats him well, taking those innocent images of you and making them indecent, your clothes vanishing to reveal those perky, sweet breasts he’s never seen, your lips finding his in a kiss that feels simultaneously familiar and unknown.

It’s feverish, a cruel taunt to the steely resolve of his conscious mind.

But you let him fuck you like he hopes you would; taking all of him, rough and hard.

His hands roam over your dreamy figure, squeezing and caressing where possible while he takes you.

He cums so hard it wakes him, feeling the sticky liquid over his abs and sheets.

He sighs and returns to sleep, your images leaving him till morning.

⋆⁺₊⋆

You’re still reeling from how cowardly you behaved last night, leaving his side, unable to tell him how you truly feel.

Upon returning to the comforts of your bedroom, every thought was invaded by him, your head spinning with images of his gorgeous, tanned body, his thankful smile… until you couldn’t take it, your fingers finding your soft little bud that you’ve touched too many times to the thought of him.

And you came undone with his beautiful features in your head; those narrow eyes, his jaw, that mess of raven hair.

Everything about him drove you to reach an orgasm so perfect it made you shudder and gasp his name.

How will you be able to look your sweet Knight in the eyes?

Will you ever be able to confess?

selfshiptember 13!! likes, comments + reblogs appreciated! <3

[ellery-six]

Here’s Maxi’s head sheet ❤️ I will make her hair longer in the finished pictures (if I included all her hair on this sheet, it would just be a page full of hair lol), and I love doing outfits so her dresses are going to be fun 🙂 I’ve also done Ruth’s sheet, which I’ve posted to Instagram already, I will post it on Tumblr later this week - I am a bit behind with my Tumblr :(

[theimpurelily]

1: You Still Care

Word Count: 2,390

Notes: Second part of Forget-Me-Not

Next > | Table of Contents

Never in his life had Riftan ever felt such hatred for paper. Out of the countless correspondents he had written never before had he felt such trepidation toward putting his words on paper. There was no need for this, Riftan had long ago let go of any anxiety he felt towards his penmanship or grasp on the common tongue. So why, why after years of writing painfully boring correspondence for people he couldn’t tolerate, could he not write her one simple letter?  

It wasn’t for lacked of time, he had already been at Anatol for a few days now, having finally come home, finally away from the infuriated nobles at Drachium and finally away from Gabel and Hebaron’s constant pestering and ‘advise’ that he would never admit was possibly helpful. That not being said, part of him wished they had never opened their mouths. Their words did nothing but fill his head and dreams with visions of Maxi in ways he had never imagined before, leaving him too restless in the morning for his liking, like a teenager who couldn’t control himself anymore.  

It wasn’t for lack of content, not really, however nothing he had didn't feel suitable to write down. Telling her about the bandits they had dispatched on the way to Drachium might only make her worry and no force on earth could make him to tell her of the noble woman he had to kick out of his chambers on the first night they stated at the capital or how more than one noble whispered the word pagan not so subtly under their breath as he walked by.  

No, none of that was necessary to tell her. 

Riftan looked down at the letter in his hands, trying his best to ignore the several others that laid crumpled up or ripped apart at his feet. He knew he needed to finish by today, his men were already prepared to go for their possibly months-long excursion to remedy their money issue before he ‘ruined’ them as Ruth so eloquently put it. 

It was a necessary trip that he wasn’t looking forward to. 

No matter how hard he tried, some cruel force seemed to believe it necessary to keep him away from home. True, he would leave in a heartbeat if he knew the destination would lead to her, but this wasn’t the case and he desperately wanted to just be home for a moment. To have time to examine his lands and keep watch over the construction, to try and see some improvement in his work, to keep an eye on the people who had placed their loyalty so quickly onto his shoulders. 

As he rubbed his hand over his face with one hand his other started to run his thumb over the dried ink on the page, staying quiet for a moment before letting out a dejected sigh that echoed against the barren stone walls of his chambers. Out of every letter he had ever written, why did the one for her have to feel so…impersonal. 

It was a terribly short letter, with only real mention that he had arrived back at Anatol safe and on the progress of the wall's construction since she seemed interested in that before and made sure to inform her that he would not be home for some time, though he remained vague as to why and…not much else. 

It felt strange to write down anything of real detail. Part of him was still worried about the boy she had put her faith in with their letters. Until he felt secure, he didn’t feel the need to risk putting too much on paper. 

What good would it do if someone else read how painfully and pathetic he missed her? 

How often he found himself looking out at the barren garden and thought of her? 

How during his travels, he would catch himself remembering the feeling of her hair in his hands or how it looked shining in the sunlight as he watched the firelight dance. 

How badly he just wanted to hold her again, to be swept away by the sound of her voice or the smell of her perfume. Just let her presence sweep away the worries of the world where he could forget for just a moment of the people in Anatol who revered him in a way that  made his heart heavy, of Ruth’s worrying over his stay at Drachium or his constant nagging for them to figure out how to rebuilt his land before caused his fortune to run dry.  

He couldn’t stop the bitter laugh that crept up his throat as he set the letter down. He wished so desperately she was here, words always seemed to feel so meaningless. He would much rather show how he felt than write it down. But fate wouldn’t allow it, she wasn’t here, she would never be here. 

Without really thinking, Riftan slowly moved his hand to touch the stone hanging around his neck. If some day, he found the stone had turn smooth from how often he touched it he wouldn't be surprised. Lately he had found himself toying with it even when during the rare times he wasn’t wearing it and, more often than not, Riftan would wake up to his hand tightly clutching the stone, leaving little marks on the palm of his hand. He wouldn't mind if the marks never left, in some pathetic way it made him feel like there was some part of her that was there to greet him in the morning. 

He smiled a little at the thought of that, of being able to wake up with her face being the first thing he sees, her voice the first thing he would hear. Riftan felt his chest start to feel tight as he swallowed down any hope of that happening. 

She’ll never be here, just be thankful for what you are allowed to have.  

 Riftan let out a frustrated sigh as he eventually gave up and resigned himself to the fact that he would ultimately never be satisfied with any letter he sent off. A small part of him wanted to add in more, possibly tell her why he would be gone, however he felt a little…hesitant to do so. Though he knew there wasn’t any point in worrying. There was no need to make her worry or to think poorly of him that he had to resort to this, to hunting down monsters of the dragon subspecies. Harvesting the various profitable parts from high-grade monsters such as drakes, wyverns, and basilisks just so he could keep Anatol going for a year. 

Deep down, part of him knew she wouldn’t think that, there had been no look of disdain in her eyes when he mentioned him being a mercenary but still that small little voice, he had pushed down would still find its way back up, gnawing away at him each time he felt just a small hint of anxiety. 

Despite all this, the worry of his words and the wish to not put her in danger if the letter were to fall into the wrong hands he did give in and added one last line before sealing the letter. 

In the end the excursion was more than worth it. 

Not only had Riftan and his men successfully gone about exterminating drakes and other subdragon, harvesting them for everything they are worth, they had also been able to accept commissions from nobles to deal with other threats. At one point, Riftan even found himself taking part in a sword tournament held at the border simply for the prize money. 

To no one's surprise, there had been plenty of criticism thrown his way as he ‘lowered’ himself, tarnishing his knightly honor. It didn’t matter what faceless nobles thought of him, it wasn’t as if they held him in high regard before. They seemed to only see him for his skin, marking him as less than, an imposter who was blemish on their high society. 

Though he may have been forced to spend months away from home, away from the letter he hoped was waiting for him, Riftan was able to amass all the gold in Wedon’s southwestern parts. This, of course, made Ruth extremely happy. 

“Soon, we’ll be the wealthiest in all of the southern region!” 

Riftan was busy trying to not stare a hole into the neatly stacked pile of unopened letters waiting for him to go through while Ruth practically bounced with excitement as he opened a chest of gold coins. 

“By God, did you stumble across a grave of a hundred basilisks?” said the mage, his eyes sparkling. “How on earth did you manage to obtain so much treasure?” 

Riftan shrugged, his eyes darting between the mage and the letters. “A historical site. Just luck, I suppose.” 

“You’re like a bloodhound with gold, I tell you!” 

The mage chuckled as he weighed the coins one at a time, after which the servants placed them back inside the chest before taking them to the vault. Riftan watched the process, trying to keep his mind off the letters. He would like nothing more than to shoo away Ruth or simply take the pile of letters and rush off to go through them until he found hers. The only thing holding him back was the fact he didn’t wish Ruth to notice. He knew Riftan, knew he hated receiving any sort of letters since they nearly always called him away from home. For him to suddenly wish to drop everything to read one would only bring attention to it. So, he kept his attention on the treasure being taken away until Ruth spoke. 

“Do you think that site was the tomb of an ancient queen? Every other treasure beside the coins are all female adornments.” 

Riftan flinched ever so slightly. Ruth leaned forward to inspect an elaborate crown studded with emeralds, rubies, diamonds, and topaz. Next to it was a pile of bracelets, earrings, diamond necklaces, rings, silver hair ornaments, and a gilded jewelry chest. As the mage said, they were all items meant for a woman. 

After thoroughly appraising the haul, Ruth grumbled, “You should have just sold them and returned with more gold. These would be a tough sell to anyone but the big merchant guilds, and they never come to Anatol.” 

Riftan did his best to appear nonchalant as he picked a plum from a tray. “I don’t plan on selling them. I will keep them in the vault.” 

“It would be more useful exchanging them for gold,” Ruth said, frowning. “Never mind the exorbitant cost of the wall. Do you know how much it costs to employ all the sentries and servants at the castle? The wisest thing to do would be to keep this value in currency in the event of an emergency.” 

“We should have enough to run the estate for now. They say precious metals only increase in value over time. We can sell them when the need arises.” 

Though the mage appeared unconvinced, he redirected his attention to counting the gold coins as though he could not be bothered pursuing the argument. 

Riftan let out a small sigh of relief and picked up one of the earrings, twirling it so that the light would catch and play with the sapphire stone sitting within the dainty jewelry. It was true that at least some of these ornaments had been discovered at the site. Most, however, had been purchased. He knew he would never hear the end of it if the mage were to find out. 

How I spend my money is none of his concern , he thought in silent rebuttal to an imagined reprimand. He knew some of the items would be useless, any jewelry he gave Maxi had to be easy for her to hide, whether in her room or on her person. Looking back, he knew the necklace was a poor choice in that regard. It was far too bulky and the chain too short for her to hide with ease. As he placed the small earring down his eyes went towards the crown and he nearly shook his head at the ridiculous purchase, but he couldn't help but smile at the time as he pictured her wearing it. 

As soon as Ruth seemed satisfied with how everything had been sorted and handled Riftan made quick work in shooing the mage out of his office, ignoring his complaints as he shut the heavy door in his face. When he could hear Ruth’s footsteps fading away down the corridor, Riftan quickly spun around and tore through the different letters, reading only the first few words of each one until he found one with delicate writing. 

He couldn’t explain why, but just holding her writing, tracing his thumb over the small crease on the corner of the page possibly done by her made him feel so unbelievably happy. He hadn't even read her words yet, but he already felt all exhaustion and homesickness fade away as he settled behind his desk to read the letter. 

Riftan had to chuckle a little to himself, her letter was just as mundane as his though somehow it seemed twice as long. She didn’t seem to skip out on any details, telling him how the boy did exactly what he was told without any issues, of her days in the garden playing with the cat.

She even went on to tell him of all the different books she had read written and filled so many pages with just her favorite parts and asking a few timid questions on if some of the monsters in the books where accurate or not and quickly told him that she was trying to avoid going too high up the library’s ladders (though he remember telling her to stay off them completely). There were several parts where she seemed curious as to why he was leaving his home so soon, but her words felt cautious as if she could tell he was hesitant to say anything more. It made him feel slightly guilty but that was quickly washed away when he read the last line of her letter that made his stomach flip and his chest warm up. 

Please stay safe,

I miss you as well.

[ishaslife]

Here is a draft crest for my Under the Oak Tree OC, Isolde Hallowcrest's house.

A little explanation:

Isolde and her house is decended from the great Numen race, which was a race of humanoids that hailed from another star. They brought seeds to great trees called Aurum (alongside other things) with them. They wished to live amongst mankind and learn for, of them as well as teach them their own ways.

Hallowvale Castle situated in the Northern region of Balto is built around one such Great Aurum tree. The trees are famed for their yellow leaves and are regarded as Watchers or Guardians by the now diluted Numen-human race. Aurum leaves only shed off the tree when they sense the coming of a new age which is seen as a joyus occasion hence the tree's shedding being depicted on the standard.

Numens fight with all kinds of weapons. They are more proficient with claymores, long daggers and longswords. The Hallowed Guardians swear to protect their land, and any person they may encounter. Using their weapons to protect and serve than to wage war for glory.

In recent history however, Marquess Ingram Hallowcrest does not abide by this principle.

Do not copy or steal my work.

Latest "Unbroken Oaths" Chapter : Isolde VI (linked)

[cuntastic-mrs-cunt]

maxi and kuahel in the fanfic im currently drafting 😭🎀