haven't you heard? i'm the hero.

[warpspammer]

one idiot hero, hot and ready.

"but is he fresh?"

he's HOT. and he's READY.

Comments

for lucere; cooking for the king.

[warpspammer]

[ technically, this was not a part of his job as a kingsglaive.

his job was to fight battles for the king, primarily. it was just that drautos' method of punishing a misbehaving glaive was to give them crownsguard duty, which generally meant guarding the inspection points or, if he really disliked you, guarding the king or royal family.

he really didn't like nyx. but, nyx really liked the king and prince, so it wasn't exactly a hardship.

still, this late night guard session had gotten a little... odd? the king didn't keep his wait staff on hand 24/7, as he was aware they had their own lives. which meant the royal kitchens did close down, at some point.

but now the king was hungry at quarter to midnight. and sure, nyx could have done the responsible thing and just let him order something and picked it up, but.. well. he'd asked about galahdian cuisine, and this seemed a fine opportunity to make some.

or an approximation of some, as he was beginning to find out. ]

A fully stocked royal kitchen and I can't even find a ten year old bottle of garam masala in here?

[ nyx was bitching under his breath as he dug through the spice cabinet, beginning to pull out what he knew went into the spice, knowing he was going to come up lacking some key components. ]

I think you need better cooks, your majesty.

delivering rapture 🖤

[crownsguarding]

[ ooc: original thread ❤️; also this comm name is amazing, it needs to be used. ]

[ The sly call to his name is permission enough, and Cor delivers his response with fierce intent that leaves no room for questions or hesitation - he's never one to mince words, and it translates to his personal show of affections, the kiss is hungry but precise, molding his desire to the shape of Nyx's mouth.

His hands wander, a lover's caress belied by the roughness of his battle-calloused hands against the texture of a familiar uniform. They crawl up the tangible sinew of Nyx's willing body, fingertips digging into the deep trenches of his spine but lands, quite deliberately, to the curve of Nyx's ass, making it very known that he intends to drag him closer, until they're chest to chest and pelvis to pelvis, rocking to the throbbing beat of blood pumping through his veins, all the way to his cock. ]

As good as you look in that uniform, [ he breathes out, from Nyx's mouth to the curve under his sharp jaw, tasting the lines of his neck with a hungry tongue, ] I'd prefer to see you out of it.