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#NOW WATCH ME AS I TAKE MY THRONE AND RULE MY KINGDOM
owenstark · 4 months
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updated tag drop for owen stark.
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alessiamalfoyzabini · 2 months
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To Love You
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Pairing | wanted!Jimin x princess!Reader
Word Count | 16,1k
Warnings | +18, angst, smut, Jimin is a wanted outlaw, mention of dead parents and conspiracy, the new king is a slimy being, mention of hatred, painful feelings and abandonment, many tears, Jimin is allergic to romantic feelings 💀, murders (sword, poison, torture…), attempted rape, lots of kissing and touching, breast worship, love marks, talks about having a baby, impregnation kink, sex in the woods, virginity loss, unprotected sex, vaginal sex, licking pussy, forcing orgasm, mild fantasy!AU toward the end, this is not for minors.
⤷ Summary | You have been separated from your beloved and your kingdom is under the rule of a heartless man, but all is not lost.
➢ Author's Note | I wrote this story because after Dark Moon I found it hard to part with Jimin, and at the same time I wanted to bring some sweetness to heal my heart a little, I hope you enjoy this story ❤️
ps: all images used for the banner belong exclusively to me!
Permanent Taglist: @katherine-kookie @btsuga-d @reallygenerouskoala @velvet-stardust2002, @takemeaway5402 @angelicsmilesworld @pantara @ke1k029 @btssimpjaneth
⋆。 ゚ ︎。 ⋆。 ゚ ゚ 。 ⋆ ⋆。 ゚ ︎。 ⋆。 ゚ ゚ 。 ⋆⋆。 ゚ ︎。 ⋆。 ゚ ゚ 。
"The multi-murderer Park Jimin here, the rebel leader who has been sowing terror in our lands for years, stealing from our families and killing our children, is sentenced to capital punishment, tomorrow at dawn the gallows will await his head."
A buzz rises in the room, all the attention of those present is focused on the commander of His Majesty's Royal Guards, the man is reading an official communiqué, with every word your heart receives a painful, deafening stinging.
Your eyes are steady on the blond-haired boy, kneeling in the middle of the hall, his mischievous gaze on the king, your uncle.
"The condemned man will be escorted immediately to his cell, where he will remain until the following morning, in the hope that he will repent of his deplorable deeds and ask God for forgiveness."
The boy’s grin deepens, in his ice-colored eyes that contributed to his fame, shines an amused spark, you know what it means… it’s that attitude of his that made you fall in love with him, your Jimin.
"Deplorable is forgetting the poor people you have killed for your own interests, mine was only justice, my lords...there should be someone else in my place, you all know that," the barb aimed directly at the king makes everyone present hold their breath. including you.
To address a tyrant ruler like your uncle in that way is simply insane, by your side you see the man in question clenching his fists and narrowing his gaze, but he dare not go on a rampage, not in front of his subjects, at least.
"Take him to his cell, that's where such a beast deserves to be," the king hisses, and when the guards badly pull Jimin to his feet, he finally looks at you-it's only an instant, but it's enough for you to notice his expression change from mischievous to wistful.
You barely hold back the tears as they take him away, unable to say or do anything, you promised him, you promised him you would do nothing foolish or dangerous, but your heart clenched in a painful grip calls out to him and longs to feel his embrace again, but yours is a secret that must be kept silent and hidden.
You feel a hand wrap itself around your shoulders and you shudder, watching your uncle's dark eyes stare at you suspiciously, the crown jewels shining wickedly on his head, as if mocking you, a princess forgotten by her people.
"Is there something you would like to say, my niece?" his words creep disgustingly down your spine, you want to spit in his face, but you hold back.
You clutch your robes in your hands, imprinting your best smile on your lips.
"No, Your Highness, I am calmer now, finally that outlaw has been caught" uttering those words kills you inside, it is before you the real outlaw, the one who plotted against your father to usurp his throne, you are alive only because you are a sweet and important pawn in your uncle's game, if you want to conquer a new country without shedding blood, you need a precious bargaining chip, no?
And in your veins runs the pure blood of a princess, an opportunity too tempting for your uncle who is already itching to give you away in marriage to who knows what spoiled, deadbeat prince.
You sense a gentler hand pulling you away, it is your wet nurse, sweet old Harun, she curtseys to your uncle and when he turns his attention to the other nobles in the room, the woman finally speaks, "Come, my lady, you must rest now" you let yourself be dragged away from her like a shattered rag doll, once this woman could patch you up, now you doubt that playing another of her games to cheer you up will have the desired effect, the love of your life will be executed tomorrow.
"It's over, Harun," you say with a sob stuck in your throat, "It's really over..." Harun stares at you with tears in her eyes.
After all, she witnessed your love; before he was an outlaw, Jimin was the son of a knight of the king, one of your father's best friends, you grew up together, you watched him practicing with his sword in the imperial gardens, hidden among the hedges as a princess should not have done, he loved practicing with you during dance lessons, you were very close and Harun had never dared to push you away, aware of the importance of a young love like yours.
After your uncle killed the king, Jimin's father rebelled by not accepting the new ruler and found death awaiting him, his family was stripped of its noble title and robbed of all wealth, throwing Jimin into a spiral of hatred and revenge.
He found ways to stir up trouble for the new king and his court by looting their homes or killing important members of their families, you on your side knew he was alive because of the whispers coming from the servants, with regret you realize that you saw his handsome face again as he was kneeling at the new king's feet and it will probably be the last time as well.
Harun gives you time to enter your bedroom, "My lady, Jimin never blamed you for what happened to him."
You smile softly, "I know, he... he is good, Harun, Jimin is good."
The elderly woman nods understandingly, it is when you sit on the bed that you notice something. Before you leave, Harun deliberately lets something slip among your things; it's a key.
"I hope you can both be happy, princess," she says before closing the door behind her.
With slow, tentative steps you reach for the key, you look around fearfully, almost expecting your uncle to pop out from somewhere, ready to accuse you of treachery, but when you grab the key to the castle dungeons nothing of what you imagined happens, you look out your window, the moon in the sky is high and motherly, almost inviting you to follow your heart, and with a salty smile you clutch the key to your chest.
Just for the thoughts invading your mind you deserve condemnation, but what do you have to lose now? If the love of your life dies tomorrow at dawn, then you will stand by his side, not among cruel people looking down on him.
Take a last look at your room, you spent a wonderful childhood within those walls; on the bed wrapped in tulle and silk you embroidered with your mother, on the carpet with your family crest you played while Harun braided your hair, good-naturedly reprimanding you if you spoke a little too loudly and smiling sweetly you remember at the window a young and cunning Jimin climbing a tree to join you in your rooms, that's how your first and only kiss happened, it was a light and chaste touch, but it was enough to leave you with your heart wrapped in joy.
Then it was all over, no more games, laughter or shy hugs at every corner of the castle. The new king ruined everything.
The night welcomes you and slips with you as you move like a shadow within the castle walls, after years of dancing your step is so light that the heels of your shoes do not make the slightest noise, you clutch the light shawl you have carried with you over your shoulders, shivering at the draught that penetrates through the draughts of the dungeons, you have found no guards as you pass, they are all focused on protecting the king and his apartments, the fear of possible revenge from Jimin's men is too vivid for them.
You descend the stone steps covering your nose with your shawl, the smell of mold is strong and makes your eyes water, drops of water whose origin is unknown to you fall from the ceiling, it is so dark that you are forced to take a torch from the wall and use it to light your way, the flame dances sinuously with your every movement and you finally access the last part of the long and winding corridor. A sickening smell of urine overtakes you as you approach the filthy cells, Jimin is locked up in such a place, another wicked way of trying to humiliate him.
There are five cells in all, in front of them you notice a wooden table with two chairs, that's where you immediately go, take the bottle of wine and swallow, you have to.
It's something you've always thought of reserving for your uncle someday, but Jimin's life is more important, so you firmly detach the thin chain you've been wearing around your neck since your father's death from your neck, you look one last time at the silver pendant with your family crest, then you open it with a small click and its contents are revealed, you throw a few pieces of the wolfsbane root into the wine, hoping that the guards will drink it before they realize what had been done, and with a shuddering breath you hide the necklace in the pockets of your dress.
Then, as if you hadn't just poisoned the bottle, you slowly make your way to the dirty rooms enclosed by old iron bars, you illuminate the cramped space of each cell by the torchlight flame, you notice beds of dirty, old straw and dark stains on the wall, you don't even want to imagine what it could be.
You notice a soft humming, it is gentle and sweet, you swallow recognizing the melody, he is there.
You approach the last cell with your heart in your throat, you haven't seen him in years, you don't know exactly how he will react to your presence, you repeat Harun's words in your head as you use the key she gave you to open the cell, the noise is creepy as you open the rusted iron door, the shadows inside are even more so.
You take a step in there, your feet meet more straw, it is so dark that you can only rely on the torch you clutch in your hand and the moonlight filtering through a tiny barred window, you try to look around but suddenly the flame goes out, the loss of light provokes in you the instinct to scream, but one hand rushes to close your mouth while another grabs you by the side, holding you to a warm body you didn't think you could touch again.
You shudder when the tip of his nose lightly brushes your neck, and you are inflamed to realize that he is inhaling your fragrance. You feel him smile against your skin before leaving a kiss on it that makes you lose several beats and your hair stand up pleasantly.
"What's a princess like you doing in a place like this... with someone like me?" he whispers in your ear as the tempting devil would, you'd be lying if you said he had no effect on you, your mind and body are hopelessly drawn to him.
His hand releases your mouth and reaches down to your neck, tightening it in a deliberately weak grip, you lick your lips before responding.
"I'm here to set you free, Jimin," you say softly, this makes him snort in amusement.
"Set me free? Oh, Y/N... I'm not afraid to die" you tremble when he says your name and turn in his arms, you try to look into his eyes but the only thing you catch is the dangerous glint in them.
"I do, I am afraid! I don't want you to die, Jimin..." you whisper in a broken voice and finally allow yourself to embrace him, rest your head on his warm chest and although he doesn't reciprocate, he does nothing to stop you.
It's a strange feeling you feel, he left you he was a skinny little boy full of rage, now he is a man facing death head on, but you are not ready to let him go one more time.
"And I don't want you to be here when the guards come back, this is high treason to the crown, Y/N," he growls looking at the open cell door and clutching your shoulders, he wants you to leave, you know.
"Do you think I care? No, Jimin... I stopped being a princess when my father and mother died, when you were forced to leave and left me alone" you say the last word bitterly, "If I die saving you, I will accept my fate."
He slowly pushes you back, each step brings you closer to the light filtering through the small window, and when you end up with your back to the wall, you can finally see clearly the face of the man he has become and your breath catches, his peculiar eyes hold a torment that does not shine through in his brazen voice, you raise a hand to his face and shyly brush the line of his jaw, his golden locks shine under the moonlight glow, it is shocking.
"You don't even know what you're saying, you're a silly princess who's read too many books and now thinks she can save an outlaw" he laughs softly shaking his head, "Go back to your room, Y/N and forget me" when he turns away from you and you lose the little hold you have on him, the world comes crashing down on you.
Forget him? He has no idea how many years you spent waiting for him, hoping he would take you away from your uncle's clutches, he never came to get you and yet you never stopped hoping, you shake your head looking at him sorrowfully. It is easy for him to say such a thing, after all, he has already left you in his past, a past he has turned his back on.
"You're probably right, I'm a silly princess who has read too many books and now wants to save an outlaw, but I won't forget you," you hiss feeling a sudden surge of anger, because if you gave in to the sadness that now clutches your heart you would find yourself crying on your knees and he doesn't deserve that, "It may have been very easy for you to make me disappear from your mind and heart, but don't think we're the same in this."
He does not answer you, you know he is gritting his teeth by the rhythmic click of his jaw, you thought you had found him and instead you are looking at a stranger.
"You've grown ... and you've changed," you whisper before turning toward the exit with a chill in your body, "The cell is open and the guards are focused on protecting the king, you pretty much have the coast clear."
Before you can leave, his voice stops you.
"What will happen to you? Every action has a repercussion, princess."
You smile without amusement; it's ridiculous how he avoids facing your feelings by pretending they don't exist.
"Don't waste your time on me and go, it's not even certain that they will find out," you sigh with one last look at the man who stole your heart and soul before freezing you, he now has his hands clasped around the bars of the window, as if he refuses to look at you. It is stupid what you are about to do, but you need one last test.
You let your shawl slide to the ground; if it is still in the straw tomorrow, you will be condemned in Jimin's place; if, on the other hand, the guards do not find it, it means the boy has taken it with him. You know you are being selfish, but you wish a part of you would stay with him, even though he would probably like not to think of you again.
"Jimin!" one of his friends notices him, and relief is immediate in the group.
They welcome him with open arms as he collapses to the ground, tired but happy to still have his head attached to his neck.
"We were already prepared to intervene during the public trial, but this changes everything! How did you escape?" Hoseok asks him with wide eyes, Jimin brings a hand to his damp and dirty hair, seriously in need of a bath after spending a night running through dirty streets and dirt.
"I was helped ... by a friend, let's say," he replies through clenched teeth, gratefully taking the water bottle Yoongi is handing him.
"A friend? Some servant girl you've had fun with in the past?" asks Taehyung smoothly, receiving a blow on the head from Namjoon.
It is Seokjin who notices the shawl that Jimin has tied around his waist, masterfully takes it before the boy can even notice and ignores the latter's protests.
"I'd say a princess," he says with a smile, spreading the fabric and displaying the royal family crest under the sunlight, "I knew it, she-"
"Stop. I know what you are going to say and I urge you to go no further," Jimin growls taking back your shawl, "She belongs in that castle."
"Kidnapping a princess is easy, so what's your problem?" in a not at all gentle way, Jungkook voices the question that has always crossed everyone's mind.
"Her place is not in that castle, everyone in the kingdom knows that ever since Cobra killed his brother and sister-in-law, he wants to use his niece as a bargaining chip with all countries provided with an heir" Namjoon looks at him sternly, but Jimin sighs.
"She is a princess, that is her duty."
He clutches your shawl tightly before getting up from the ground and heading to his tent, your place is not by his side, you are safer in that castle, whoever went against that foolish new king met his death, he will never forget the life in his father's eyes that faded away, nor the flames that burned his house and the king's guards that captured his mother and brothers, you will not end up the same way because of his selfishness, if leaving you by your uncle's side will preserve your life, then he will give up on you.
He clutches tightly at the fabric that still carries your sweet scent of vanilla and cookies, it was devastating to have had you next to him again without being able to hold you as he would have liked, for a moment the memories of childhood lulled him tenderly, but you are two different people now, he is different and must let you go, it is for your own good he thinks as he ties your shawl around his duffle bag, trying not to think back to the pain in your voice as you left the cell.
Someday, when you have a family of your own, you will understand the reason behind his every action.
The walls tremble at the king's shouts, he is furious.
Everyone in the hall looks at each other nervously, you keep your vacant and tired gaze, it has been three days since Park Jimin's escape and your uncle shows no sign of ending his fury, he has executed five guards and two nobles of his court suspected of helping Jimin with the escape. The reason is the poison found in the wine that killed the sentries who were on guard that night; it is a plant found only in the royal gardens and only the king and the nobles of his court have access to it.
"Who dared to betray the king?" is the question circulating among those in the hall as you crinkle the skirt of your gown with nervous fingers, not regretting helping Jimin, but breathing the heavy air of these days is not easy.
"Who do you think could have done it, my niece?" when your uncle whispers the question in your ear you stiffen.
"I don't have enough evidence to accuse anyone, Your Majesty, the only thing I can say is that it must have been a fool with no conscience," you reply in as firm a tone as possible, your uncle scrutinizing you from head to toe before nodding.
"Yeah, a fool..." he hisses shifting his gaze to his nobles, out of the corner of your eye you notice Harun looking at you from the front door with sadness.
She expected Jimin to take you away with him, and truthfully you had hoped for that at first too, but you can't force a person to love you, it's a good thing things turned out this way, you can finally stop chasing a ghost and wishing for something you will never have.
When that day's reunion ends, you can finally be free to wander around the castle, what you don't expect is to find the king in your safe place, your mother's private little garden.
"Sire..." you whisper strangely, the king never dared to enter there, everything about those lush plants and flowers carries the memory of your mother, a beautiful and sensitive woman, but also very strong. She did not shy away from her brother-in-law's sword when he pointed it at her chest.
"Y/N, you are doing a very good job here," he nods in the direction of the white lilies in the height of their bloom, you do nothing to approach the man, you have always discreetly driven away his presence, but it is one thing to leave his halls, another to leave a place you consider your own, this may make him too suspicious.
He, however, seems not to notice your lack of response, too busy studying the many plants in the small garden.
"Go ahead and sit down and read one of your books, nephew...I'm just here to find some peace...I confess, Park Jimin's escape troubles me," he casts you a little glance and you clear your throat.
"You are the king, he cannot harm you in here, Sire."
The man nods weakly, but still looks tense.
"Oh, I know I am the king, my dear niece, but the idea that a traitor could live within the walls of my castle does not let me sleep at night."
You grit your teeth.
His castle? The castle he forcibly wrested from you and your family?
This is another humiliation to which you cannot respond as you actually want to, you swallow the knot in your throat.
"Precisely why I'm so disappointed... in you" you squint, possible...  "Y/N, I kept you alive when I took the throne years ago, you were such a pretty and malleable child, but maybe not enough" he continues before shaking off the dark cloak and pulling out something that locks your breath in your lungs.
In his fist he clutches your necklace, the one that contained the poison and that you thought you had hidden in the sewn folds of your dress, you don't know what to say, so you try to pretend.
"Oh! You found it, I've been looking for it for days," you exclaim in the most surprised tone you can imitate, but the man doesn't seem to be playing along with you.
"Don't lie to me, Y/N, this necklace was found inside the cell where Park Jimin was locked up, I had heard rumors about your childish feelings for that outlaw, but to go that far? To go so far as to betray me? I spared your life, I never denied you and your title of princess! I raised you as if you were my own daughter!" he shouts, violently pulling off a wolfsbane root hidden among the lilies.
Something snaps inside you at his insinuations, an anger you've been hatching for years that has never found an outlet.
"Raised as a daughter? You killed my father and mother for a crown! You put power and wealth first, you deprived me of a family, you did the same to Jimin and claim to pass as a victim now! You are a vile monster!"
Your uncle is quick to draw the same sword with which he had remorselessly severed your father's head, he points it at your throat and it is so close that you feel the blade press against your skin enough to scratch it, you inhale deeply trying to block the fear that makes your heart gallop against your rib cage.
"I am the king, I don't allow a foolish girl to judge my actions, I realize I was wrong to spare you that night...but what should I do with you now? Should I kill you now or..." a mad light flashes in his eyes, "Of course... a condemned will be there, you will take the place of your beloved Jimin," he hisses in your face, a slow smile makes room on your cheeks contrary to what the man expected.
He expected you to burst into tears and fall to your knees begging him to spare you, but you will not, you will honor your mother's memory.
"You're just a coward," you whisper amused, at which the man's face turns red with fury.
"Guards! Guards!" he shouts at that point, six men enter by breaking through the glass door from which you enter to reach your mother's garden, shards of glass surround you along with the soldiers, you have no escape and so you merely chill the king with your gaze, "Lock her up in the highest and most isolated tower of the castle, I sentence the princess to death for helping the dangerous fugitive Park Jimin escape from my prisons!"
"Your day will come, too, Uncle," you hiss furiously, "And when you find him before your eyes, you will fall to your knees begging him to spare your life, but he will not be so merciful," you announce proudly, not needing to utter Jimin's name to alert your uncle, the way he suddenly whitens is already an answer for you, you keep smiling as an austere-looking man tugs you badly, forgetting that he has a princess on his hands, or maybe they don't care, it's the king who matters to them.
As you are thrown to the floor inside what will be your final chamber, darkness engulfs you once the door is closed.
You cough hard involuntarily inhaling the air thick with dust and dirt, your eyes burn and you do not know whether from tears or from the irritants in the room, the only thing you are sure of is that tomorrow your entire kingdom will know of your death sentence.
They will probably learn of that news with indifference, wondering why the king did not kill you earlier, along with the rest of your family.
You often ask yourself that too, if he had killed you then, you would have died basking in the thought that Jimin loved you and would remember you forever.
"Let's move, we need to refuel in town before we leave," says Seokjin starting to saddle his horse, Namjoon on the other hand is busy cataloging all their stuff to avoid losing anything after yet another move.
"Taehyung's not back yet?" complains Hoseok snortingly, picking up the "stupid guy's" bag, Jungkook shrugs in response.
They sent Taehyung to check the situation in town, moving in a group would have been dangerous; it's always better to check one at a time that the coast is clear.
"Strange, he should be here already," Jimin whispers as he squints, their momentary safe place in the heart of the forest is now almost completely clear, only Taehyung is missing.
"Maybe he's found something interesting," murmurs Yoongi crossing his arms and staring at an unspecified point toward the horizon, everyone staring at him in confusion before hearing Taehyung's voice.
"Jimin!" exclaimed Taehyung coming galloping in a breathless gallop, Hoseok cursing.
"I hope no one saw you running and screaming like that, you asshole," he growls, but Taehyung overtakes him with wide eyes and a paper clutched in his hand.
"Jimin, it's about the princess!" silence instantly replaces the protests of the others, Jimin stiffens as he stares guardedly at the paper Taehyung is clutching so desperately, "That fool of a king-" is interrupted by his friend who snatches the flyer from his hands to read it himself.
A boulder falls into his stomach and the ground is as if shaking beneath his feet, the king has sentenced you to death, you will end up hanging with a noose around your neck for helping him escape, he clutches the piece of paper tightly, shaking with fury.
You should not have helped him, you should not have risked your life for someone like him, when he thinks of how he treated you before you left he feels only immense shame.
"We should have kidnapped her when I proposed it," Jungkook sighs before saddling his horse as well.
"Saving her is the more appropriate term," Yoongi corrects him, adjusting his leather vest before turning to Jimin, "What do you want to do now?"
Jimin lets out a laugh full of malice, his adamantine eyes shining as he observes the king's seal in the communiqué.
"Are you still convinced that leaving her in that castle is the only way to keep her safe?" asks Namjoon sarcastically, Jimin shakes his head.
"In light of the new events, I would say no," he sighs reluctantly, handing the communiqué to Hoseok.
"The execution is in two days, we have to find a way to get into the castle and find her."
"He probably locked her up in the most isolated tower, he did the same with her mother before he killed her, it's as if he enjoys seeing them wallowing in fear," the blond man forcefully clutches a twig picked from the ground before snapping it in two, wishing he had the king's neck in his hands.
"Now with all those guards circling her it will be harder to kidnap a princess, but nothing is impossible for us," sneers Jungkook, but Jimin doesn't seem thrilled at the idea of having you back by his side, filling him with unease and remorse, reminding him of all the years he was absent and didn't really care how you might feel sitting side by side with the monster who killed your parents.
Someone squeezes his shoulder in comfort, it is Jin who is looking at him with a smile, "Hey, if you explain everything to her she will understand, from what you told me, she seems like a smart and intelligent girl."
Jimin grins slightly and nods.
"She is."
You look out the small tower window with tears in your eyes, you don't know how many hours you have been crying now, what your uncle did was deplorable and cruel.
You were allowed to sleep with your sweet old Harun beside you, you had to imagine that behind that concession was the cruel promise of a snake.
‘With the princess dead, there is no need for a wet nurse anymore’ is what the king said before ordering the guards to carry Harun away to the outside, exactly in the direction of your window, before they began to slaughter her amidst the screams of both of you, you shook the bars at the window of the hope of breaking them and reaching her, but it had all been in vain, Harun died almost immediately, she preferred not to withstand the blows to spare you the suffering of watching her fight like an animal for who knows how long.
Your throat burns as you sob, her body is still there, no one has gone to cover her, they are simply waiting for the ravens to arrive.
You slowly fall to your knees letting go of your grip on the bars, your hands are encrusted with blood and your nails are broken, you clutch your hands to your chest remembering your wet nurse who apologized to you the night before for encouraging you to free Jimin, repeating numerous times that she firmly believed you would run away together.
You feel guilty, perhaps if you had not requested Harun's presence, she would not have come into the king's sights, you find yourself wishing the hours would pass quickly, you do not want to be alone with your thoughts, they are too scary, death in comparison seems like a sweet promise.
Suddenly you hear the creak of the old door opening, for a moment - your despite yourself - you brighten up, believing you'll find Jimin ready to help you, but the dream soon shatters once again, it's not Jimin, it's one of the guards, and then you frown, what is he doing here? The king has expressly ordered that no one should speak to you again.
"What do you want, sir?" you ask with a strange feeling in your stomach, the guard sneers.
"A change of room, the king has ordered it," you stare at the open door, then back at the guard, it's a boy who looks familiar to you, he has black hair and droopy eyes.
You don't ask any further questions, you get up from the floor and shaking off the dust you let him grab you by the arm, though you grit your teeth in anger you dare not say anything, it's still better than having chains on your wrists and ankles.
He takes you outside urgently, you don't see the other guards and it makes you suspicious, you remember there were at least three outside the door, what is going on?
It is when you get to the fourth flight of stairs that you feel a violent grip on your shoulder before you are forced into a small, dark room, perhaps a closet used by the servants to store items, you scream with all your might, but the man's slimy mouth immediately covers yours, it is disgusting as you try to force his tongue between your lips and with a firm conk in your throat you bite it off with all your might.
This makes him flinch away with a yelp, it's dark and you can't see anything, you can only imagine him probing his tongue with his fingers to make sure it's still attached, you spit out his blood shuddering.
"You know..." he begins panting, "I've never been with a princess, I must say you are much better than servants," he laughs like a maniac returning again to his intent, trying to lift your dress skirts, but every time he tries to sneak his hand in, he always finds a kick to hit it badly.
With your heart engaged in a mad rush, you try to defend yourself as best you can, you've never been in a situation like this, but you won't let this happen, ever.
You desperately grope for something behind you, his wine-smelling breath twisting your guts and when he comes to lick your neck you manage to hold on to something cold and spiky, you don't even need to ask for forgiveness for what you are about to do, you don't even feel a hint of guilt as you start hitting him viciously wherever you can, with a snarl he tries to block your hands but you manage to knock him unconscious with one last blow.
You open the door to the small room to escape and the man's body collapses to the floor, you finally recognize him, he is the son of the guards' captain, and a rush of satisfaction fills your chest as you think back to what they did to Harun, then you suddenly realize you are free.
You don't know exactly where you're going to go, but you have a chance to escape and you're not going to miss a golden opportunity like that.
To enter the castle they used an old and dense series of underground tunnels leading to every corner of the palace, to be on the safe side Jimin chose the one that would lead them to the kitchens populated only by servants at certain times.
"Well, we're in," Hoseok snorts, shaking cobwebs from his clothes in disgust, "Now what?"
"We should split up and check every single tower, just in case," proposes Seokjin nabbing an apple from the basket in the large kitchen, Jimin looks around wistfully, brushing against the massive old wooden table he remembers all the afternoons spent with you stealing cookies with the complicity of Harun and the cook, with the old housekeeper always at your heels repeating to you to go back to the lessons with the riding teacher.
"Be careful, the castle is swarming with soldiers," the blond warns them before going on his way, refusing to take anyone else with him.
He moves through the shadows of the palace, making sure to avoid every corner illuminated by the light of the flashlights hanging on the walls of almost every corridor, his stride is light despite the leather boots he is wearing, he is getting closer and closer to the throne room and he shouldn't, he is there to save you, but... if he kills the king you will ascend to the throne.
He tries to calm his breathing, the idea of coming face to face again with the man responsible for his downfall is too much for him, it would be delightful to sever the head from his neck and proclaim a new ruler, one man's death would be enough to end both of their nightmares.
Before he can even really realize it, he has reached the vicinity of the throne room, hidden behind a secluded corner he watches the guards lurking at each corner of the door.
Opening his palm he slowly slides a dagger down his arm to his wrist, grasps the handle foretasting the moment when he will plunge the blade into the living flesh of the two soldiers in the king's service, one of them yawns sonorously and keeps his eyes almost completely closed, receiving a shove from the other.
"Hey, I'm going for a check-up, try not to fall asleep as usual, you boar," he growls before putting his hand on the sword hilt and walking away looking around.
Jimin sneers as he licks his lower lip, drops his cloak hood and calmly approaches the displeased man.
"Why do I always have to stay on guard?" he hears him mutter, "That prick really turns my-" the words stop in the middle of his throat while Jimin is cutting it, it is such a smooth movement his that it now seems remarkably natural.
The man doesn't resist, he moans in a hushed voice as he collapses to the ground accompanied by the blond man who doesn't mind the blood smeared on his cloak, the stench of alcohol the soldier exudes, he can swear he was too drunk to try to react in any other way, everything seems to be going in his favor and he can't help but bask in the pleasure of what is about to take place.
When he enters the great throne room, he cannot help but think of the time when he found himself kneeling before the king in a humiliating position, but that night everything will be reversed.
The young man remembers the walls finished in gold and silver, but the frescoes proclaiming King Cobra as the victor are new, depicting hunting scenes and valiant battles to feed the man's narcissistic side, but they are all lies, Jimin knows and so does Cobra himself.
The king's back is turned and he is holding his hands behind his back, he is carefully watching something from the high windows of the throne room, perhaps he does not sense the presence creeping behind him or simply ignores it, the fact is that when Jimin points his sword at his back, the man does not move an inch, he remains ice cold.
"I knew you would come back for her, Jimin," there is an amused note in his voice, Jimin thins his gaze.
"For her? I came back to kill you," the boy growls, pressing the gleaming blade harder.
"Um..." the man brings a hand to his face to smooth his long beard, "So you don't care about Y/N or what might happen to her at this very moment."
A trace of insecurity quickly passes through Jimin's icy eyes, he grits his teeth before uttering the words he would not want left his lips, "Exactly, I'm just here to settle a score."
"Oh, well ... then, before you settle this unfinished score, why don't you enjoy the show with me?" the sardonic question awakens Jimin's sixth sense, as he lifts his gaze over the king's shoulder and toward the stained glass windows, just outside the garden that would later lead inside the bramble forest.
Immediately he feels the blood freeze in his veins, he rolls his eyes and tries to keep his calm demeanor, but inside he is dying.
You are there.
You're running toward the forest with a soldier behind you gaining more and more ground, you're too tired and petite to outrun him, you won't make it.
"So what? Will you take my life and satisfy your revenge or will you run to save the princess in danger?" chuckles Cobra, Jimin hisses strengthening his grip and tearing at the king's gaudy robes with the tip of his blade, he knows what he has to do, the answer is so obvious, but letting go of such a being is unthinkable for him, unbearable.
With a snarl he pushes the king away, who rolls badly to the ground, and before he can even comprehend what has just happened, Jimin puts his sword to his throat, the blade shining under the dim light of the candles and longing for the young man to go forward, to pierce the flesh of that worm and sever his head from the rest of his body, but all that does not happen.
Jimin's eyes are now as dark as darkness, he uncovers his teeth like a snarling wolf, "I will return, Your Majesty... and when you see me again, you will pray for God to save you, for I will have no mercy on your dark soul," he hisses, hurling a slash toward the king, then heading quickly and in a blind fury toward the exit of the hall.
Cobra with wide eyes grazes his own face, slowly a wound opens under his left eye and blood stains his hands.
You hiss in pain with every thorn that sticks in your legs, your dress is torn in several places and you try to catch your breath as you pray that the soldier will not find you.
You have ended up in the bramble forest so feared in your kingdom and every movement of the wild plants that inhabit it makes you tremble with terror, everything is dark and cold, you can only hear the cry of the owls that watch your silent struggle mocking you.
You manage to crawl painfully behind a large and imposing tree, lift your skirt and observe the pitiful condition of your legs, bite your lower lip with tears in your eyes, your skin is full of scratches and blood, but you can still run.
You try to pick yourself up, but noises of broken branches block your every movement, you stand with bated breath as someone wanders through the trees.
"Come here, little flower... let's go back to your room," you hear him humming with amusement, "I don't know how you got out, but you won't be punished, you're still a princess after all."
You tremble with cold and fear, it is obvious that the man is not telling the truth, you have seen your uncle's men act before and you know they know no kindness or mercy.
"Our sweet..." you frown as you follow the man's footsteps with your ears, you can't make out which direction he is coming from, "Princess..." you see something moving quickly out of the corner of your eye to your right, you spontaneously throw yourself to the left to avoid it, believing it to be the guard, but to your horror you realize it is a small fox, "... Y/N! " you scream with all your might when hands yank you away, you manage to free yourself only because the man's grip is weak, at which point you run away again.
"Run, princess, run! I'll find you again anyway!" he laughs excitedly at the idea of hunting after months locked in the castle protecting the king's life.
You are tired, your eyesight is getting more and more fatigued, you just want everything to be over as soon as possible. You don't even know where you might go in case you escape the man, you will always be hunted down by the king and his array of soldiers, the idea of giving up everything and accepting the end you will make crosses your mind, even if it means saying goodbye to Jimin for good.
Bramble bushes once again block your way, they stick to your skin and dress, they seem to be on the side of your assailant, you can no longer escape, it's over.
"Gotcha, princess" you feel his heavy breath on your neck, his arms grip you tightly before he lifts you up by weight and throws you into the shaggy, dry grass, "Look at you... actually you don't look like a princess anymore, you look like a dirty peasant girl" he chuckles, kneeling down in front of you, he touches your hair and you glower at him.
"Don't touch me, you dirty mangy dog" you growl, slapping his hand, the man's expression changes, it is no longer cheerful, now he looks resentful.
"You have such peasant language, your mother didn't live long enough to teach you manners, but I'll teach you a good lesson," he says before lifting a hand, ready to slap you in the face.
As your wide eyes stare at the man's heavy hand, your ears feel something move across the grass and stomp on it, then the sound of a slash lashing the air and suddenly you are free, the man falls to the side holding his neck but desperately reaching for the dagger hidden in his leather belt amid curses and expletives.
"Jimin..." you whisper as you see a golden flash in the darkness of the forest, the shadow falls hard on your assailant and you find yourself forcefully closing your eyes to avoid looking at that gruesome spectacle, you listen in disgust to the intense barks of the dying man.
Then everything falls silent.
You feel Jimin's presence approaching your huddled figure on the ground and you don't know how to act.
He has certainly saved your life, but he has just killed a man and you are the granddaughter of the king who took everything away from him; he is no longer the Jimin of when you were an innocent child.
"Are you all right?" he kneels at your side with a certain formality and coldness in his tone of voice, as if trying to keep his distance, hurting you.
You slowly rise up avoiding looking him in the eye, "I'm alive, so yeah... I'm fine," you whisper dimly, hissing when you try to stand up and your legs resume burning painfully, you clench your flayed fingers into small fists and when he notices them he cannot forbid himself a barely concealed dry breath.
"One moment, let me see," he offers, already grabbing a flap of your torn dress, instantly freezing when he meets your eyes wide with embarrassment.
What he was about to do is disgraceful as well as incredibly intimate.
"It's nothing, I can still walk... can you help me reach the village? I might find someone willing to let me board by ship," you ask gritting your teeth, the forest finally gains some light and you can make out the young man's surprised expression.
Your gaze falls on his black robes, although it is not very clear you understand that the darker stains correspond to the blood of the man he has just killed and to whom you dare not even cast a glance, you swallow wondering why apart from your disgust at the blood, it does not bother you at all.
"I am here to save you, princess," he murmurs decisively, "Going to the village is not safe, you can only trust me," at his words you tighten your lips into a tight line.
"If you really want to save me, then stop talking to me in that tone, we grew up together as friends, stop pulling away from me" you whisper sadly, the boy shows a flash of displeasure as your words sink into his heart, behind him several men on their horses begin to approach, one of whom is unridden.
"Jimin, more guards are coming!" exclaims a boy with hair as dark as a raven's feathers and tenacious eyes, and tossing him the reins of the riderless horse, the animal is magnificent, its coat as white as milk and its mane shining like the most precious gold.
Orobel.
With tears in your eyes you recognize the foal your father gave Jimin for his 12th birthday. He is much bigger and more majestic now, a force of nature in every way.
"You must come with us if you want to save your life, princess," says another, his shoulders broad and posture proud, he looks like the leader of the group, a large bow protrudes from his back.
You send down a knot in your throat when Jimin extends a hand toward you encouragingly, "We must go, don't be afraid of them, they are my trusted comrades, Y/N."
Your name uttered by his sweet lips shakes you to the core, he may not be aware of the effect he still has on you and you want to cry like a little girl when he helps you up from the muddy ground and hoist you onto Orobel, if he somehow notices your glazed eyes, he says nothing, probably blaming the wounds on your legs.
You really wish it were that way.
Jimin is chopping wood with an axe, he is shirtless and you watch from a distance, sitting on the grass and wrapped in a clean, heavy cloak, it is the only thing the boys have found suitable for you to protect you from the evening wind.
You notice a few drops of sweat sliding down his neck and then down to his muscular chest as he flexes his arms to strike yet another wooden stump, you swallow with a slight blush dusted on your cheeks, you didn't remember his physique being so grown up, it's all new to you as well as incredibly embarrassing.
Out of the corner of your eye you notice Yoongi picking some herbs not far from you, it makes you feel uncomfortable to have to live with so many men; when your uncle took you into custody, he didn't allow any boys to get close to you, he wanted to keep you pure for his plans. Thinking back to the man who didn't think twice about sentencing you to death paralyzes you. You have to hold on until you find your own place to stay, you doubt that Jimin will ever want you by his side; therefore, you have to think personally about your future, even if it is painful to think about.
Being with them, you get a little insight into everyone's roles within the group.
Seokjin is certainly the leader as well as an experienced archer. You have observed him several times taking aim and hitting his intended target accurately, plus he has an aura around him that inspires confidence and trust. On the other hand, Taehyung looks a bit like the jester of the situation, but you have seen him wielding daggers to catch various animals and never wished to take their place, it is clear that behind that sunny smile he hides a soul as dark as the others.
Namjoon would rather observe and devise traps than take part in an actual confrontation, but it is clear that he would never back down in the face of a real threat, just as Yoongi, who plays the role of doctor in the group, helped you bandage your fingers and legs when you arrived at their camp and was incredibly quiet, not that you felt like talking still upset after the events of the night.
Then there are Hoseok and Jungkook, both of whom are the hunters, their job is to find and kill all possible threats in the surroundings, lest their lair be found and besieged by the king's men.
Also, you found out that Jimin is a master of swords.
He masters his steel blade so lightly and sinuously that it seems to dance when he moves and lashes the air.
You are in the midst of wolves, but it doesn't scare you too much, you know they won't hurt you, or so you assume after those five days spent in their company.
You feel a figure stop behind you, you raise your head and have to squint to avoid being blinded by the sun's rays, slowly you make out the form of Yoongi who bends respectfully at your height. His feline-cut eyes seem to invite you to listen to him.
"I can see you are tired, princess, and I know you haven't slept well since you've been here," he begins with a thoughtful look, "Taehyung has managed to find suitable clothes for you and there is a safe lake nearby, I invite you to freshen up and put on something clean before resting, you will surely feel better," he says with a small reassuring smile.
You frown, undecided about what to do, the idea of a bath tantalizes you almost overbearingly, but the embarrassment if one of them were to see you naked would be too much to bear, and Yoongi seems to understand that.
"The lake is far enough away from the camp, none of us here are planning to go to that area at the moment, it is completely safe and isolated, you need not fear anything," he hastens to specify, "I will just accompany you, I will be back here immediately."
"I... thank you, Yoongi" you smile gratefully, finally trusting the boy.
"I'll go get you those clothes, wait here for a moment," you nod, sighing slightly; you turn back to Jimin, but find to your disappointment that he has disappeared.
Yoongi leaves you by the lake, the path back to the camp is not difficult; so, you assure the man that you will have no trouble. He leaves you with a shadow of doubt etched on his face, but you pay no attention to it; you walk to the lakeshore and breathe in the air at the top of your lungs, enjoying the blue sky and the fluffy clouds that sail across it like ships.
When you finally reach the lake, you feed on the sight of the crystal-clear water, the temptation to undress is very strong, but tightening your lips into a line you look around suspiciously.
Stripping off completely would be too much, so you decide to stay in your petticoat, shivering at the breeze rattling the tree foliage, you hang your clothes from the branch of an old felled log nearby.
You turn toward the shore and treading over the small stones and grass you finally slowly begin to enter the water, sighing at the almost freezing temperature.
As the water reaches your belly you hear something emerge noisily from the lake, widening your eyes you find yourself screaming and covering your chest as best you can, wordlessly you see Jimin with his eyes closed bringing back his blond, golden-strand-like hair, the movement is magnetic, and you are practically naked. No, both of you are naked.
You flinch down with the water now up to your chin and your heart in your throat, peering warily at the boy who notices you only at that moment and stares at you wordlessly at first, you notice his jaw snap rigidly and his clear eyes darken, before turning away.
"I'm done, I'm leaving right now," he says raising his voice slightly to be heard, "I just needed to get the sweat off of me," he looks uncomfortable as he tries hard not to let his eyes slide to you.
A squeeze in your stomach is all you get from his words.
"Jimin..." you call out to him as he begins to swim toward the shore, the bitter feeling like gall at seeing him move further and further away from you once again has become unbearable, "So that's it? You don't want me?" his bare shoulders tremble slightly, and you don't know whether from the cold of the water or from your words.
You don't really expect to see him coming back toward you, but that's exactly what he does by moving at an extraordinary speed, he almost looks like a water creature, then he is in front of you in his full height, water droplets glide along his perfect skin and you swallow trying not to look at his bare chest or even lower, suddenly feeling like a little girl under the icy depths of his eyes.
"You're going to get sick, Y/N... Look, your lips are already purple," he whispers, brushing your lower lip with his thumb, stroking it gently, and you feel yourself suddenly go on fire.
"Can't you just answer me to end this suffering?" you beg him with moist eyes, Jimin sighs before shaking his head, reaching up to brush your hair.
"I am not suitable for you, Y/N," he mutters it almost angrily, wishing to put an end to this.
"Or am I not suitable for you, maybe that's what you think" you smile sadly and bitterly, "I'm sorry to still be a bother to you."
"You are not a bother" he almost growls those words and you sigh shaking your head.
"Then I will be soon, you will meet a beautiful woman, marry her and have your own family, that same woman will then wonder when I will disappear from your life forever and at that point there will be no place for me even in your memories," you say shakily, "That is, if there are still memories of me in your heart."
You follow the movement of his neck as he tilts to let his eyes peer deep into your soul, his serious, thoughtful expression leaving you interjected.
He doesn't seem to want to deny but not even admit your words; it's as if he, too, is as confused as you are.
His gaze moves further down, there where your thin robe has stuck to your body because of the water, you realize with shame that it has become transparent and revealing, but you decide not to cover yourself.
You want him to look at you, to see that you are no longer a child, that you have grown up and that your body is that of a girl in her prime.
"My real problem, Y/N ... is that I'm sure I've met that woman before, but I don't feel worthy to be around her, not when I abandoned her in a castle to pursue my revenge," he whispers, the sky-blue color of his eyes seems to become more watery, "I can't forgive myself for putting her on the back burner, that's the truth," you hear the pain in his voice, the one that was missing that night in the cell when you freed him.
The need to hug him and hold him to you suddenly becomes more suffocating, with a sob you throw yourself into his arms and this time he doesn't stay stiff as marble, his arms wrap around you like a silk blanket and you find refuge in his chest.
His skin is warm against your cheek and it's a feeling you didn't think you would experience again, the boy sinks his face into your hair and leaves a kiss on your temple, before brushing the tip of his nose against you and smiling softly.
"There will never be a woman who will make me forget you," despite his words, you feel sad, still incomplete.
You sigh against his neck and close your eyes, you have gotten used to the temperature of the water and its warmth helps to relax you.
"But there will be a woman who will take you away from me" you point out in a colorless voice, when he doesn't respond you decide to loosen your sudden embrace, "I'm tired of waiting for you, Jimin" you let go of the ripples in the water, swimming back to the shore without taking your eyes off the boy who still seems to be in doubt, then a small, amused smile stretches across your face, "I'll have to find a real man who knows what it means to love a woman," you taunt him, reaching down to a shallow spot in the lake bottom, wanting to give him a taste of his own medicine.
You begin to lower the straps of your now useless robe, abandoning all symptoms of shame, you want him to react or get angry in some way, you want a reaction from him and you get it, "Maybe Yoongi? I have to admit, he's very charming and he certainly knows what he wants, he could give me-" before you can even finish speaking, Jimin pulls you toward him grabbing you by the wrist, you only have time to make a surprised sound before his lips manage to cover yours in an impetuous, possession-filled kiss.
You hear your heart beating at a rapid pace in your ears, you did not expect your second kiss to happen this way, he seems exasperated as he presses himself against your mouth for more direct and intimate contact, you open your mouth slightly when his tongue dabs roughly on your lower lip.
It is a man who is kissing you, no longer the kid of your memories, and he seems more than willing to let you know it when one of his hands comes down to tenderly squeeze your throbbing neck, he smiles against your lips when he realizes that your heart seems to want to leave your chest and he separates himself from you with one last caress of his softest petals.
"I haven't even kissed you properly and your heart is already exploding," he chuckles with a spark of mischief in his clear eyes, "And who would you like to give such purity to, Yoongi?" he shakes his head hissing those words like an angry snake ready to attack.
You clench the hand that is still wrapped around your neck and strengthen his grip, wishing that the feel of his fingers on your skin would stay with you, "I've always wanted it to be yours, Jimin," you say softly, tilting your head at the slow descent of his hand.
"I'm very different from the nobles you grew up with, Y/N.... Don't expect me to catch you with a petticoat on," he continues by caressing a thin strap, lifting the fabric just a little, "Or for me to look away while you undress," he leans down to kiss the corner of your lips, reaches down to your chin and continues along the entire line of your neck, as water you adapt to the touch of him until he reaches your breast, your nipples turgid from the temperature of the water and his attentions are raised against the transparent fabric, the man can practically see their shape and color, he cups one breast as he pushes his head against your chest, kissing the soft, tantalizing flesh.
He adores you with his mouth and your sighs make him feel like a lion in a cage, his golden hair captures the last light of dawn as he pushes you against the shore and gets between your legs, studding you with kisses and caresses, returns to your mouth and finally with his tongue captures yours, inviting you to follow him.
You encircle his neck with your arms, trembling with excitement at the way he lets you touch him and the way he touches you, takes you by the hips and holds you against his massive, secure body.
"Jimin" you whisper in his ear as you feel something heavy and stiff against your inviolate intimacy, he mumbles something unintelligible, he seems lost in his bubble continuing to lick and kiss your neck, you tremble feeling incredibly hot, an unknown force urges you to rock against him and cling to his back with your fingernails, groaning suddenly.
This seems to awaken him and the spell is broken.
He flinches away, staring at you with agitation, in his gaze remorse is the one thing you don't want to read, but it's there.
"You need to get dressed," he warns you dangerously and with difficulty before pulling away from you completely, hurting you.
"H-Have I done something I shouldn't have done?" you ask bewildered, still with chills in your body from what his hands were capable of doing to you, this version of Jimin completely opposite from the boy who was kissing you only seconds ago is like a punch to the stomach.
"I said get dressed, Y/N! " he abruptly blurts out, "And stay away from Yoongi, I don't want to see you flirting with him, you're not a village woman," he runs a hand through his damp hair nervously, before stepping out of the water without caring about his nakedness, you turn your head away from him, the feeling of shame has returned to invade your limbs, and with a stone in your heart you bring your arms to your chest, stepping out of the water and groping for the dry clothes that Taehyung and Yoongi kindly gave you.
You don't see Jimin move away from you, clenching his fists and hitting the trunk of a tree until his knuckles are mangled, finding himself staring at the blood rushing to the grass with resentment, trying hard to forget your mouth begging his to be taken or the softness of your body that has enslaved him at an embarrassing speed.
You are worse than a circle of hell for him.
When you return to camp with your face pulled into an indecipherable expression, the boys study you in confusion noting also the strange attitude of Jimin who walks a few steps ahead of you.
The two of you seem farther apart than before and this certainly does not go unnoticed by the others, Yoongi tightens his lips as he reaches for the blond man who is walking back into the forest in search of more wood.
"Hey!" he exclaims behind his friend, "What happened at the lake?" he asks, Jimin snaps an eyebrow up.
"So you knew I was there?" he curls his upper lip over his teeth appearing menacing, but Yoongi's hard gaze doesn't lower.
"She's crazy about you, so it's clear that the fight stemmed from you, am I right?"
This simply rattles the blond more, "I didn't do anything at all, don't play cupid, man, because it won't stick with me."
"Or maybe it was a one-way conversation and you didn't even give her a chance to talk, you're such an asshole! She doesn't deserve a bastard like you, a guy who doesn't grab a chance like that when he has it at his fingertips," Yoongi blurts out, starting to turn back, but those words turn on a red flag in the younger boy who grabs the older one by the leather vest.
"And what would you like to do, Yoongi? Seize the opportunity yourself? I've seen how you watch her pretend to gather herbs for your infusions," at which point Yoongi chuckles wryly, his black eyes twinkling.
"I won't lie, I like her. But I also know to whom her heart belongs, and as a doctor I can well say that if you continue to keep her on the edge like you're doing now, that heart will get sick," he sighs, flinching, "Don't make me punch you, Jimin... you're no fool."
"I'm a criminal and she's a princess," he says without emotion on his handsome face, Yoongi snorts as he rolls his eyes.
"You are her hero, the crown wants her dead and you saved her, now she's a woman like any other and nothing forbids you to be with her," clarifies the older man with a raised eyebrow, as he walks away Jimin remains frozen in place.
‘She's a woman like any other.’
No, you are not like all the others, you are his princess and will remain so forever, which is precisely why he cannot allow another man to lay his hands on you.
Abandoning himself against the bark of an old tree he wonders if being with you would be worth it as a form of protection, he would never hurt you and would ensure you protection for life, the very idea of giving you his love has always terrified him, anyone who ever loved him is dead and he wouldn't want anything horrible to happen to you because of him, but now things have changed, you need him and he... needs you.
He finds you sitting in front of the fire, you're focused on the crackling flames, and if you notice his presence, you don't show it at all, you pull the blanket tighter over your shoulders.
Your thoughtful, melancholy expression suggests to him that you are still remembering the events of a few hours ago, recognizing that he was a real jerk for the way he treated you earlier, kissing you like a lover and then rejecting you like a cheap whore. He still feels ashamed and makes sure that each of his friends is asleep in their own tent before sitting silently next to you.
He hears you wince a little and out of the corner of his eye notices you turn your head away, refusing to acknowledge his presence. He smiles slightly, even as a child when you were offended by something you would puff up your cheeks and turn your head to the side, just as you are doing now.
Yes, you are still his lovely princess.
"I'm sorry," he murmurs, moving a few millimeters closer to you, "I shouldn't have spoken to you and I especially shouldn't have touched you like that."
You frown in annoyance, snorting slightly through your nose.
"I don't object to the way you touched me, but you should keep quiet a little more," you mutter venomously, "You have the hands of an angel, but the tongue of a devil," you say casting a glance at his hands, you see the wounds and your heart sinks, you want to kiss them and curse that thought.
Those words trigger two completely different reactions in Jimin, on the one hand they help make him feel guilty, on the other he finds himself smiling internally, because you really don't know how devilish his tongue can be, if used in the right way.
"And you a mermaid's lips," he says taking your chin between two fingers, staring at you with such intensity that you feel naked.
He mirrors himself in your glossy irises and sighs, "Forgive me, after so many years of believing I'm not right for you, I forgot the most important thing."
"The most important thing?"
"Yes, you."
You gasp in surprise, registering his words only after a few moments of unbearable silence.
"You're saying that..."
"I am saying that I want to stay by your side, to be your protector and also your lover, if you will still allow me to be, Y/N."
His irises as clear as the waters of the lake gently brush against you, you feel your eyes tingling, and before he can see the tears streaming down your face you rush toward him, embracing him as if your life depended on it.
In a way it does, because without Jimin, your last piece of happiness that endures from childhood and which you have finally found again, you would have wandered in the void of loneliness for who knows how long.
You think back to your parents, to Harun, to all that you have lost and come to the conclusion that you were not yet ready to lose Jimin too, but he is here. You smile, pulling up with your nose before resting your lips on the boy's soft ones, who more than willingly accepts to surrender himself in your arms that are as small as they are warm and that scream familiarity.
"So you haven't forgotten me," you whisper, pulling away slightly, the blond shakes his head, snorting.
"Never, I tried to protect you by keeping you away from me, the king wants me dangling on a rope ... or at least it was until you made the mistake of saving me" he utters the last words with a note of reproach in his voice, staring at you sternly for the way you put yourself in danger.
But you don't lower your gaze, you won't feel guilty for saving the man you love.
"Now the two of us are here, together, do you want to blame me so much?" you murmur softly and his heart melts like snow in the sun.
He shakes his head, no, he cannot blame you. He, too, for love has made foolish and terrible decisions, and he will not let go of the chance to make up for all the pain he has caused you.
"I could never," he hisses almost painfully, closing his eyes as your fingers graze his hair and his lips reach for you, snapping another kiss.
You let him embrace you and he hold the back of your neck with one hand as he tries to deepen your contact, making it more intimate and slower than the more feverish kisses the two of you exchanged at the lake.
Your heart vibrates like the wings of a hummingbird, happy to give yourself in that way to the one man you have always loved and whom you know for certain you will love all your life. You would never have agreed to an arranged marriage; you hoped with all your heart that your uncle would never find a suitable suitor for you, and fortunately it did.
A commotion from one of the seven tents surprises you both suddenly, you separate slightly and cast a glance toward Namjoon's tent.
"He must have dropped one of his swords," Jimin mutters irritably, you, on the other hand, are traveling with your imagination, imagining sharing the tent with Jimin for the first time and blushing, since you were rescued the boys have taken turns to stand guard and let you have their little station, although strangely enough Jimin's guard duty was lasting for too many days, and as a result you have always used his bed made of furs and straw. Not quite like the one in your room at the palace, but by now you were well used to it,  considering the tower where your uncle locked you up.
"Come with me," he offers you his hand and you stare at it for a few moments, before extending yours and linking your fingers in a secure grip, "I know a place a little more... peaceful" the word slips between his teeth persuasively, you don't know what will happen tonight, but if he asked you to throw yourself off a mountain, you would do it as long as he stayed by your side at all times.
"Is it far?" you ask raising your skirt slightly, trying not to trip over tree roots and stones.
The blond looks ahead without letting go of your hand, "Just a little bit" he turns to you with his laughing eyes and you are enchanted at their color, he is lighter and more affectionate, he almost looks like that child Jimin you have missed so much.
You walk just enough to reach the thick, lumpy roots of a large tree, its branches entirely covering the night sky that until moments before was towering over you with its stars.
"Jimin... is ..." you try to say, but there is really no doubt.
The man nods.
"We are inside the lovers' forest, Y/N... this is the tree where according to legend their marriage was celebrated."
You look around, almost hoping to see the blooming arch where the first king and queen of your kingdom were married, eventually giving birth to your dynasty, but you see none of it, disappointed to realize that it is just a clearing of grass and flowers that seems to bow its head to the great tree that towers above it all.
"That's not how the stories described the place," you mumble slightly, your mother and Harun's stories spoke of magical creatures as spectators, flowers of every color and every shade decorating the lawn and the guests' walnut chairs, not to mention precisely the large archway on which roses and climbing plants had grown in honor of the two newlyweds.
You hear Jimin chuckle behind you, his hands encircle your hips and your back rests against his chest, you feel his warm breath on your neck, and goose bumps cause you to shiver.
"I never believed those stories and you know it," he says in a clear, amused tone, "But as I grew older I realized that something really happened here," he whispers in your ear.
With an elegant hand he lifts your chin slightly, bringing your gaze to the trunk of the large tree, you sharpen your vision and finally notice them.
"Runes?"
"Runes," the boy confirms, "This is the Lignum Vitae, the tree of life according to the legends, little princess," he chuckles as he turns away, his leather boots hardly audible among the uncultivated grass and damp earth.
"You don't believe that either?" you snort with a smile, you know you've always been the one to believe in everything your country's legends have handed down, but you would expect some cooperation from him, after all, he was the one who brought you here.
"I don't believe in magic, but I believe that lovers gathered here to bring offspring into the world, relying precisely on this tree," he explains with a shrug.
In fact, talking about a marriage in the stories was much easier if you wanted to tell something about the origin of the royal family to innocent children.
"They succeeded, didn't they? Look at me!" you laugh, pointing with a little bow, and Jimin does, looking at you with an affection and love that until morning he jealously kept to himself.
He walks to the tree and touches the runic symbols gently, in his mind an idea takes an increasingly clear and tantalizing shape.
"If magic really existed and we strengthened our ties to the tree, would everything fall back into place?" he wonders softly with furrowed brows, not wincing when you hug him from behind, as if expecting your closeness.
"We cannot get back what was taken from us, Jimin... even magic is useless in the face of death," your hands are intertwined over his heart, you feel it beating hard and fast, like a free and powerful horse.
"Life is what interests me," he admits, turning toward you.
He takes a few steps forward and you are forced to take as many steps backward, you don't see one of the raised roots of the tree and fall back with a little yelp, Jimin is quick to catch you before you can hit your head, and you both square off with wide-eyed stares.
"If I asked you to give me the gift of a child, here and now, what would your answer be?" he asks seriously.
You don't think about it for a single moment.
"I would answer that it is one of the desires that bind me to you, Jimin."
Another kiss comes, followed by another and another, his mouth demanding yours with such need that it seems almost savage, as if he wants to feed on you after all the years spent lusting after you in the shadows, fleeing like a wanted man of the worst kind.
He accompanies you on the damp grass and reacquaints himself with your neck, using the softness of his rosy lips to tease your tender skin, with the tips of his pearly teeth biting it lightly, and this causes an outcropping of dark, purple stains along the column of your throat, amused at imagining how others might react the next day once they set their gaze on you.
You don't even care, his attentions are a novelty, you welcome his mouth and tongue on your body as a blessing, you wouldn't turn him away from you for anything in the world, let them accuse you of being a prostitute, you and Jimin know the truth, which is that your body and soul have always belonged to the blond and no one has ever touched you as he is doing.
When he gets to the modest bodice of your dress you do something that must be strange to him, or at least you sense this from his gaze when you lift your skirt and stand helpless in his hands, like one of the wooden logs he cuts daily.
"What are you doing?" he asks with a furrowed brow.
Agitation clouds your cheeks, what's wrong?
"You said you want a baby," you say almost shyly, perhaps you misunderstood? But no, he had made it clear earlier....
"I did say that, but I don't understand why you just lifted up your skirt without responding to my caresses and now you stand still" his doubtful expression embarrasses you, that's how educators told you to do it, "Forgive me, my request was too bold."
"No!" you immediately exclaim, "I want to, only I was told to do it this way."
You see his nostrils flare to snort with irritation.
"Right...you've been locked in a castle full of soulless puppets" he shakes his head, "But that's not how I want to take you, Y/N, I prefer you receptive" he whispers persuasively, "Just like today at the lake" he continues, stroking the bare skin of your legs, pushing into your soft inner thighs, you feel your belly tighten heatedly.
"Let's leave certain unnecessary distances to those old nobles," he goes on, kissing you behind your ear, a tremor shakes you when his lips wrap around your earlobe, licking it with the tip of his tongue, "Take off your bodice, love, show me what a good girl you are, hmm?"
You nod without a drop of saliva in your mouth, Jimin's tongue hisses like a snake and you are drawn to his drawling words, you are his forbidden fruit and he can't wait to bite you and find out how sweet you can be and how deliciously you can bleed.
Each button that leaves a buttonhole is a soft kiss from him over the light blouse that still holds your breasts, mentally moaning the blond curses himself for not enjoying your eager body sooner and perfect for his fingers.
He would like to tear off your clothes instantly, but he restrains himself, how would you return to others without instigating some desire in them?. No, he is gentle when even the last garment leaves you and he can finally quiver at the sight of your naked body shivering under the icy night air, or perhaps it is his eyes that make you tremble?
He lifts himself off your body and tosses his tunic to the side, your eyes drink in the sight of his hard chest and the slight hair that descends to his private parts, which you did not see that morning, but you distinctly felt on your warm intimacy, and the air escapes your lungs when you notice something that in the sunlight has strangely escaped you, perhaps because you have tried not to stare at him too much, his chest is studded with small, shiny white lines, they are thin and almost intangible, but they are there.
You brush those lines with a tentative finger, feeling the reliefs with a question mark in mind, and in doing so his skin twitches, "What are these?" you ask gently, Jimin gives a small smile and kisses the knuckles of your hand.
"Every day spent without you," he pronounces solemnly, the wind rattles the leaves of the large tree and for a few moments it is as if you feel it voice whispering over the blond man's words. You chase away the feeling and embrace the boy once more with a tear running down your cheek. You were a fool to believe that he had abandoned you when all he had done was think about you.
You have a feeling that the air is warmer now that his head is buried in the hollow of your breasts, his moist tongue playing with the tip of a nipple initially causing a strange tickle in the center of your chest before a glowing sensation slips between your legs, making you blaze with desire, it's all more direct without your petticoat and you love every second of it.
You bite your lower lip, holding back a moan louder than your sighs, you don't want it to go away again, but it's stronger than you when the delicious sting of a bite makes your thighs tremble around his bare hips, you feel the length of his cock twitch against your skin, it's heavy and it arouses you to know that you have that effect on him, at that thought the wetness descends between your thighs against your will and you try to hide, but Jimin can read a woman's body and you are still too inexperienced to go unnoticed by a hunter like him.
"It's normal" he breathes on your lips imparting another deep kiss, "It means you like it" the tip of his nose rubs against yours trying to soothe you, your eyes fly to his cock when he lifts a little to settle himself better and all the blood rushes to your head, you don't know whether from the shame of seeing a naked man or from the incredible wave of pleasure that washes over you at noticing how thick and needy he looks, there is white liquid at the tip, dripping thickly down his veiny length that seems to contract under your curious and hungry eyes.
Then a thought alarms you, "Does it all have to go in there?" you point to your intimacy, though you don't know for sure, your educators had been vague and you never touched yourself, sometimes you felt the need as you imagined what an adult Jimin might look like, but you never dared to break the imposed rules.
A princess does not do such things as a street woman.
Yet, that's exactly where Jimin caresses you, his fingers dance over your moist folds with mastery and you block the instinct to close your legs, as you might when with his thumb he rolls over a spot that gives you particularly intense and wonderful sensations, "Jimin!" you grab his wrist trying to slow down his devilish circles, but your pelvis continues to chase pleasure against your will, you throw your head back and Jimin kisses the line of your jaw as if it is impossible for him to stop kissing you in any way.
"This is called the clit, love," you hear him smile, "And this is where I'm going to go all in...my cock will go into your sweet little pussy, Y/N," he hums moving his fingers to your needy slit, entering lightly with his light fingertips, you gasp at his sudden dirty language but find that you like it, it makes you feel desired.
You feel his fingers move inside you as his thumb continues to caress your clit, your lower abdomen trembles and stutters in despair with each jolt of pleasure, your teary eyes are lost in the immensity of the tree that seems to silently observe what is happening.
Jimin never goes beyond the elastic barrier he senses beyond your entrance, he merely teases you within inches of your entrance and it is amazing how liquid and copious your pleasure flows past his wrist until it drips onto the grass. His instincts are stronger than he is, he must have a taste of your sweetness and you abruptly hold your breath when his tongue catches another wave of your honeyed essence, you are devastating to his taste buds and he wants more, you find yourself crying and contracting your hips as you try to escape his mouth, he devours you by insisting on your scarlet pearl and when more drops of pleasure come he runs to lick them away from your slit, he seems to be going crazy or maybe he is.
"Stop, Jimin... Stop-oh!" you stiffen instantly when a firmer lick shakes your body and makes you explode in such pleasure that you squint and cry.
"Ssssh, princess" you feel Jimin's lips gathering your tears before placing a kiss at the corner of your stammering mouth; his lips are wet and glossy; he is the embodiment of sin.
He is still breathing down your neck as the thickness of his cock begins to furrow your folds to gather as much moisture as possible, the thick, shiny tip of his cock swirls around your slit and you reflexively contract your pussy muscles, it is almost funny how despite the pleasure that has shocked you, your pussy still tries to invite him inside her.
"It's going to hurt, my love" he warns you with a sharp breath, you nod immediately, this part has been repeated to you many times by those women whose job it was to instruct you in your duties as a wife, though none of them had ever told you that you could experience such pleasure that you would be left gasping for breath.
"I know," you smile, but Jimin seems a little anxious.
"It will be short-lived, I'll be gentle and-" you caress his face affectionately, you know that too, he would never intentionally hurt you.
"And I will have your baby," your heart warms every time you think about it, a baby with the same cheeks and eyes as Jimin? You would love him infinitely, Jimin melts into a real smile.
"Ours."
He intertwines a hand with yours as he prepares to enter and the next thrust makes your eyes widen, he is incredibly slow and gentle, but you have never had anything inside you before and you feel all too clearly his length piercing and widening your inner walls at his will, Jimin is breathing shallowly with sweat beading on his forehead in an attempt to keep calm, you hold him deliciously and you are extraordinarily beautiful as you stare at him with your eyes lost and your lips half-closed and swollen from his kisses.
"I-It doesn't hurt, don't worry, my love," you manage to murmur with a smile, that's right, it doesn't hurt.
It's just a strange sensation, the stretch stings and tingles, but it's nothing unbearable or terrible as you've been led to believe all your life.
Or maybe Jimin is a very good lover, whispers a little voice in your head.
Even so, you feel something warm dripping from your slit after a more direct lunge, running down one of your thighs and ending up on the damp grass; it is your blood, but you pay no attention to it, just as you pay no attention to the quick absorption of the earth near the tree roots.
The blond man nods, but he reaches down again to take a nipple in your mouth, massaging your breast as if he expects milk to come out of it already, your clitoris twitching pleasantly and his cock sliding more sinuously, now you can feel it tapping deeper and deeper, you can almost feel it in your belly and you accompany his thrusts by moving against him, you cling to his back with your fingernails, you hear him moan loudly and that sound excites you, you wonder if...
Before you even think, your hand slides over his chest and you rotate your thumb around one of his smaller, darker nipples, he stiffens with a hoarse sound in his throat and the intensity of his thrusts increases, he clings desperately to you as you tease him again, encircling his hips with your legs.
In the clearing the obscene sounds of your relationship are lost in the wind, the leaves of the tree moving gently almost as if blessing your union.
You kiss him once more and let his tongue take over your mouth, abandoning his deep sighs in you, your walls begin to vibrate ecstatically each time his cock repeatedly plows through them, your belly heats up and you squeeze his swollen length into your pussy, preventing him from leaving at all, Jimin increases his jet speed, now sure of the pleasure that envelops you like a bubble and crushes you against his body, he rides the waves of lust like a stallion, your lungs run out of breath and the world swirls around you.
"We're going to have a baby," he growls decisively, his once ice-blue eyes now a deep electric blue, "And I'm going to bring your uncle's head to you, love," he announces, repeatedly pounding into you at a more assertive and rough pace, his pleasure is snaking incandescently, he can't wait to cum inside you and fill you to the last drop, you will surely accept him as a good wife should.
You tremble with panting and his fierce lunges, praying that he will never leave you, your core is on fire, your walls wrap around him with desperation, and your clit is ready again to let you go in a spiral of enjoyment. You want it all, you yearn for it, you need it, you would kill for it all.
Making love with Jimin.
Yes.
Carrying his child.
Yes.
Having your uncle's head on a silver platter.
Yes.
You hold him in your arms as the first hot jet is shot inside you, he is still buried between your legs as he continues to come, you whimper and at yet another strand of his seed you stiffen, you open your mouth wide in a mute sound as you come with no more strength.
Your body is shaken, unable to recover and you don't understand why, you try to escape when Jimin comes out of your sweet depths, but he blocks you with his weight.
You stare at him shocked when he returns with his hand to your pussy, repeatedly rubbing your perky, still rigid pearl, you shake your head.
"No, it's too much!" you cry clutching your legs, but he continues fearlessly, "I can't do it," you gasp pleadingly.
"It's what you need, honey" he murmurs in your ear, "You're so sensitive you don't realize you need another orgasm to soothe your body, I should have fed you earlier like this, sweet little thing" he sighs with his wrist locked between your thighs, bliss finally comes in little spurts of pleasure that make you gasp and Jimin's thumb stops torturing you, you sag against him without strength, feeling nothing but the vibrations of your intimacy still reliving the intensity and strength of his presence.
"Thank you," you say turning a little toward him, who stares at you with all the love he has for you, "For everything."
But the blond man shakes his head, "You did it all, my princess, I just waited for you" you hear regret in his tone of voice and you're sorry, you don't want him to think back to all the time that kept you apart, now you're together and that's all that matters.
"We will be fine now," you nod.
"When I regain the kingdom" a kiss, "Our baby will be born" another kiss, "And I'll have the king's head to make you a gift" he snaps an even more intense kiss, "We'll be even better, to love you this and more, Y/N" he stares at you with devotion and you lose a beat.
"And I want it, I want it all, Jimin" you let yourself be cradled in your love's embrace and you notice a flash of lightning in passing, you widen your eyes and turn toward the big tree.
It was only an instant, but you swear you saw the runic symbols glow gold.
You kiss Jimin's neck with a smile, foretasting a flood of sweet happenings for both of you, you feel your lap throb gently and you know, a new dynasty is about to be brought into the world.
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
© 𝐀𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐚𝐌𝐚𝐥𝐟𝐨𝐲𝐙𝐚𝐛𝐢𝐧𝐢 -  𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝. || 𝐔𝐧𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐳𝐞𝐝 𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝/𝐨𝐫 𝐝𝐮𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐡𝐢𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐝.
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thebadboyfanclub · 2 months
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Will You Teach Me? (Jacaerys x Reader)
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Oh I’m on fire! Ok so I think I’m getting my groove back and I’m actually really proud of this one cause it’s been a while since I’ve written something that is so fluff and I hope you guys enjoy it too!
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(Y/n) Starks name and legend were one that the starks would always bring up when it came to honor and loyalty, the first of their house to have the crown of the seven kingdoms placed on her head, she was two years older than her lord husband Jacaerys and excellent at the art of archery, “the kind she-wolf” was the name that the realm bestowed to her.
Princess (y/n) was the one that had urged Rhaenyra to protect Jacaerys claim, the greens might have been able to digest their defeat but like snakes (y/n) had guessed that they were just waiting for their turn, raising banners to come and swear to protect Jacaerys claim and promising her daughter to the Reach, her eldest son to the daughter of Baela Velaryon and her youngest son to the daughter of the lord of Arryn, ensuring that everyone else beneath them would follow.
The mutual respect and love Queen Rhaenyra shared with Lady Stark was well known in history, they were many witnesses on the morrow that (y/n) brought her second born child to present it to the queen and informed her that the couple has decided to name her Rhaenyra, with tears in her eyes the queen hugged her son and good daughter and thanked them for such a generous gift.
As Princess Rhaenyra was hastily made queen before her dearest father passed, he had commanded to let her take the throne so he could watch his firstborn rule better than he ever could, in reality, he feared what would happen if he passed, as much as he trusted Otto with certain affairs the matter of Rhaenyras realm was delicate and having a queen for the very first time had to be handled with utmost care.
The lady (y/n) had attended the coronation along with her brother Cregan, she had bowed before the new queen with a smile of admiration on her lips, Rhaenyra had seen the girl before, she was a little girl back then but she could recall how well she and Jacaerys had played in the garden, back then (y/n) was wearing a light pink dress that had gotten caught on some type of thorn and Jacaerys patiently worked around the fabric to free her.
“It is an honor to stand before you, my queen”
“You are very sweet, you have grown so much since we saw you last, you are already so beautiful”
“I am trying to catch up to our queen I suppose”
“I hope you remember my son, Prince Jacaerys”
“How could I forget?”
It was the first time that (y/n) broke eye contact and looked at the floor, her cheeks were already a tad rosy and after Jacaerys took a step towards her it grew closer to the color of a tomato. Jacaerys cleared his throat before he took the lady’s hand and placed a subtle kiss on her knuckles.
“My lady”
That was when Queen Rhaenyras's eyes met with Cregans and they both nodded in unison, any person with good vision could see what was happening here, the pair had grown into their comely selves and with brave heart, still, the jitters of the first heartbeat took them over like a storm.
“It is not often that we have the pleasure to have the guardians of the north in our court, may I suggest you stay for another morrow or two”
“I am afraid I must go back and tend to my duties, however, my sister can stay, if that is something that she wishes”
“Can I brother?”
“It is settled then, Jacaerys please escort the lady to all of our available chambers, let her have her pick”
“You are so generous my queen, I must thank you”
(Y/n) bowed again before mother and son, Jacaerys only turned his gaze to his mother and closed his eyes briefly, he mustn’t say anything else, a mother knows when her son is compelled by the eyes and the smile of a woman.
“Go now”
“Right away, my queen”
Jacaerys jested and instinctively took (y/n) 's hand to scurry away, as they walked away as fast as they could without causing trouble Cregan and Rhaenyra watched disappear to the crowd, Cregan adored his youngest sister and Rhaenyra held such undeniable love for her eldest son, the first fruit of her love with Ser Harwin.
“You promise to take care of her?”
“As she was my own, well technically she will be my good daughter, do you promise that she won’t murder my son in his sleep?”
“Unfortunately I cannot, one time she threw a rock at the back of my horse so I would be knocked off because she wanted it”
“Then she will make the perfect queen”
-
(Y/n) had been nervous to attend supper with the Targaryens, her betrothal with Prince Jacaerys had just been announced and so many decisions had to be made, she must be perfect so she can honor her house.
“It is such a blessed day, my grandson is to be married to the lady Stark, a wonderful match that will bond our houses for reigns to come, let us drink to love”
“You do know how the act is done right? Do not sweat I shall be there to watch it all happen I can even happily replace you if you cannot rise to the occasion”
“You can be as nasty to me as you wish,  but hold your tongue in front of my betrothed”
(Y/n) was thankful for the hushed lash back of Jacaerys, Prince Aegon thought himself to be clever with such remarks ever since she stepped foot at court, his gawking made her uncomfortable and now she found herself squeamish of such behavior.
(Y/n) turned her attention to Jacaerys and mouthed a thank you to which Jacaerys responded with a smile and reached for her hand for the gentlest of touches, as the morrows passed the couple was growing their bond little by little, learning new things about one another and spending hours talking about anything they could think about.
As the supper went on smoothly, laughter and chatter filled the room, Jacaerys had left (y/n) side for only a moment so he could entertain his niece Heleana, a timid girl who seemed to keep to her own, (y/n) did not mind, on the contrary, she watched as they messed around and danced, all she could see was how endearing her betrothed prince was.
“I would also like to raise a toast”
“Aemond” Alicent pleaded
“To the health of my nephew Jacaerys, may he grow old and wise in his wedlock, and to the lady of the hour, (y/n), it is not common for such beast as a wolf to have the honor to exist next to a dragon”
“You are vile”
“Why? ‘‘Twas only a compliment, I thought starts took pride in being loyal dogs to their master”
That was enough for Jacaerys to lash out like never before, landing a punch to the eyed prince's face and Aemond responding with a shove, everything else happened in a blink of an eye and Aegon had pushed Lucerys head on the table, (y/n) felt like this was the best time to finally have a go at him and with all her might shoved the silver head drunken fool off the poor boy, when he took a step to attack her (y/n) grabbed a knife that was laying on the table and pointed it at Aegon.
“Come on you low life, let us have it then”
“Wait! Wait”
Daemon was heard in close range, causing the ruckus to stop, (y/n) remained still, she did not trust Aegon enough to give up, a man of his…ways would probably not play fair enough for her to give up her weapon or turn her back on him.
“Go to your chambers, all of you”
Still, (y/n) waited. Aegon eyes were fixated on her with an evil grin, (y/n) held on to appear poised and courageous but her breath was ragged and uneven, she was almost shaking from the sudden rush of emotions, it was only when queen Rhaenyra stuck her hand out with the palm up towards the princess that (y/n) glanced away from him.
“(Y/n)”
Her tone was steady and warning, yet with a touch of softness to reassure her that (y/n) would be safe if she gave away her knife. (Y/n) exhaled deeply and let the knife rest on Rhaenyras hand, at that moment it was when she heard footsteps and turned just in time to watch Jacaerys walk out of the room.
“Go on”
Rhaenyra could read the concern on the lady's face like an open book, (y/n) cared for her son and that brought her comfort, she was ready to harm a prince to protect her good brother, and loyalty ran through her veins, a trait that many lacked.
(Y/n) curtsied swiftly and then shuffled away, as she went up the stairs one after the other she thought over what she shall do, mayhaps the prince wished for some time alone, but on the other side, the comfort one gets from a pair of arms wrapped around you is the remedy to most wounds.
For a few moments, the lady paced in front of his door like she was guarding it until a young chambermaid approached with a wooden bucket.
“My lady, are you alright?”
“Yes I am fine, what is that?”
“The prince has requested more hot water for his bath”
“Oh, give it to me”
“My lady, are you sure”
“Do not fret over it, you may go”
The young girl handed the bucket over and walked away, without thinking over it she knocked on the door a few times only to be met with a man this time.
“My lady, the prince is bathing”
“I am aware, you may go as well”
“My lady-“
“What is it Alfred?”
Jacaerys questioned from inside. (Y/n) did not allow herself to think over this, she stepped into the room and was met with Jacaerys sitting in a tub, his arms spread on the side and the water was so hot that steam came out of it.
She swallowed down the lump in her throat as she stood there, bucket in hand and her lips merely moved halfway up to show some type of an extremely awkward smile.
“Leave us”
Jacaerys simply said. (Y/n) found it quite interesting that when they talked to her they questioned her motives, but for Jacaerys it only took two words for them to literally disappear. As the door closed behind silence overtook them, (y/n) walked closer and leaned down very slightly so she could tilt the bucket over and let the water run without splashing.
“Thank you”
“The water might burn your skin off”
“It helps after sword practice, it is often that my legs ache”
“May I?”
She interrupted him whilst she showed him the sponge, insinuating if she was allowed to scrub him with it. Jacaerys nodded and (y/n) sat on her knees before she dunked the sponge in the soap and let it touch the prince's skin.
Jacaerys skin glistened under the candlelight, (y/n) was holding on to any decency she had to not drool over the prince, as the muscles on his chest seemed to be carved onto him the lady guessed what the rest of his body looked like, his arms also had the appearance like they were drawn to perfection, as the sponge was the only thing that kept her from gracing his skin she let her mind run off to the idea of what it would feel like when he would pull her close.
“Thank you, for defending me”
“You are to be my lady wife, I will always be there to defend you, my nephew had it coming, I should be the one thanking you for protecting my brother”
“As much as I do not wish to see Lucerys get hurt a part of my motive was that I have been praying for a time were I can put my hands on Aegon”
Jacaerys cackled at the little remark of hers, seeing her wash over his skin so gently and how her eyes sparkled was something he did not know he needed, as the lady rose and took a cup that was there she then let her hand touch the top of his forehead before she let the water run on his long hair.
“You are far more careful than the servants”
“I shall hope so, when the time comes I wish for us to not need them for such affairs”
“Is that your way of admitting you’ve been dreaming of seeing me in such a state?”
“No, no my prince, I would”
“You are quite the sight when you get flustered do you know that”
A devilish snicker escaped Jacaerys lips while (y/n) placed her hands on her hips in defense while she pouted, Jacaerys could watch her furrowed eyebrows with pursed lips all day, like a child that was denied cake.
“Ah my eye”
“That is what you get”
(Y/n) reported in triumph after she let the soapy water run over his eyes causing the sting that everyone hates, Jacaerys shook his head in defeat in the meantime he let his head hang back and relaxed his shoulders, as he recalled her childish demeanor he caught himself thinking about having a daughter, dark long hair and piercing eyes that would pout just like her mother, oh how whipped would he be for that little girl.
“If I’m being frank I always wondered what it would be like to run a brush over those locks”
“I like to braid my hair before I sleep, my mother used to say it helped with keeping it neat, she would always make one thick braid in the middle of my head”
“Seems simple enough, will you teach me?”
“Gladly”
Instinctively (y/n) bends down and lets a kiss in the middle of the princess's head. The second she did it her eyes went as wide as they could, her torso snapped straight back and her hand went up to her mouth to hide her gaping lips.
Jacaerys was also taken aback and had followed her on the small gasp of surprise but seeing her so shocked over such a simple matter made him giggle once again, her cheeks turning rosy as he continued to laugh, seeing her in such distress over such a small act was rather amusing.
(y/n) always strived to portray herself as strong and untouchable by anything, being able to view her acting so delicate and sweet made him feel special like he was being let in on this secret world of hers, it made Jacaerys wonder what else would he be able to discover as the years would progress.
“I apologize, I should go”
“No, what is the problem? It was only a kiss, I promise I won’t tell a soul, besides, I need help rinsing, dearest”
Jacaerys had held her by the hand to not let her walk away, as he finished his sentence it was his turn to show his affection by leaving a kiss on her knuckles, the lady bit her lip as she thought over what to do, alas the little voice in her head that pushed her to stay won and (y/n) walked back to her original spot to a prince that grinned from ear to ear.
Jacaerys enjoyed being pampered, as the firstborn son his duties knocked on his doorstep when he was far too young, he never complained though, he yearned to make his mother proud, but there was no harm in indulging in (y/n) 's soft touch.
“It might not be the right time though I was hoping we could discuss something”
“Anything you want”
“I know we have not declared when we shall be wed, however, I wanted to express my concern over a certain part of it”
“Do not worry about anything, no matter what it is it shall be yours”
“It is not a thing I desire, I am afraid it is more complicated”
“Then what is it?”
“I do not wish to have a bedding ceremony”
She blurted out, her movements came to a halt as Jacaerys closed eyes opened to meet hers, (y/n) had kneeled to his eye level so it was not hard for him to stare right out her, her expression showed a hint of fear and a pang of guilt struck him right in the middle of his chest.
“I should have known”
“A public one is what I do not want, my septa has informed me about my wifely duties so I will not resist the ceremony as a whole, I am more than willing to give you children it is just the fact that-“
“You mustn’t explain yourself, I had just completely forgotten about that part since I’ve thankfully never attended to one”
“I understand it is tradition, however, I thought since your mother is the queen and if she agrees we can overlook it”
“The ceremony won’t take place, at all if that makes you happy, I will not start our wedlock by letting everyone see us like that”
(Y/n)s frown quickly turned back to a beam of pleasure, her eyes shining with hope. (Y/n) dreaded the moment ever since she found out about it, to be naked in front of numerous people and let them see her lord husband- no, no, no just the idea made her shiver.
Jacaerys had been honest when he said that he had forgotten about it he could not have been more sincere, he had the arrogance of a man since a ceremony of that nature would not fall heavy on his shoulders as much as if he had been the lady, of course, it is not as nice as a walk on a warm day but being intimate with your lady wife was something sacred.
That time he reached for her hand again, their faces inches away from one another and all one could hear was their deep and shallow breaths along with a few drops of water as Jacaerys remained completely still, (y/n) saw his other hand that extended over to neatly tuck her hair behind her ear before his fingertips casually followed along the line of her chin, his touch was hot and damp though (y/n) felt it was perfect.
For the briefest of moments (y/n) dared to imagine what their future would be like, Jacaerys with grey hair and wrinkles around his eyes bouncing their grandchildren on his lap as they drank tea in the garden, one thing that she could not deny was that amid chaos and the burden of the crown, Jacaerys was her peace, the comfortable silence amongst mindless chatter.
“When I was younger I asked my mother when I have a wife, knowing my mother had lost her first husband, she told me that when I feel like my heart will come out of my throat and when I would be willing to get on my dragon to bring the stars to her”
“I do not-”
“I will bring you the moon if that is what you long for”
“I long for love, honor, and respect”
“Promise me you will never shy away from speaking your mind to me”
“Careful, my brother would advise you to take your words back”
“I quite enjoy your blabbering, your voice is like a song of angels”
Requests are open!
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srjlvr · 9 months
Text
SEVEN ROYALTIES
7 brothers. 7 new kings. 7 new thrones. 7 love stories.
note. im a bit early to do this, but we’re getting closer to 1.5k followers so i decided to drop it! i cant believe i am able to reach this amount of followers honestly! this is a special series to show you how thankful i am. i wouldn’t be here without y’all.
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THE seven brothers of hybe’s kingdom will be getting each a new throne and kingdom of their own to rule, and each one gets a love story of his own too.
GENREs will be included in each member’s story and so are the WARNINGS and WORD-COUNTS.
TAG-LIST ; i’ll consider this tag-list to all members, send me an ask or comment on this post if you’d like to join.
PERM TAG-LIST ; @sungwhoonz , @ohdudehesflirting
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lee heeseung x fem!reader genre: strangers to lovers , commoner and a royal , fluff , angst ! warnings: loads of curse words.
you always knew your short temper will be a disadvantage, but you never thought that moment will happen when it came to a royal blood.
“watch where you’re going!” you yelled at the person who just bumped into you, “my apologies madam, perhaps i can offer you some sweet cookies as an apology?” he smiled.
you laughed at the nickname and the cute offer, “people don’t offer here cookies just because they want to apologize, are you new in town?”
he then shook his head, “you keep your things to yourself if you don’t want people to keep asking you for favors”
you ran before the person could even reply, “didn’t she realize who is she talking to?”
STATUS posted!
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park jay x fem!reader genre: arranged marriage , one sided love at first , angst , fluff ! warnings: curse words , mentions of food (nothing serious, just dinner breakfast and all) , uhh dunno if it’s really a warning but just a rude behavior.
it’s been a few months since your huge wedding held in the castle, “i’ve married to you only because of the fact that i need to marry off to someone to get the throne” your newly husband groaned.
he’s been telling you the same sentence each time you remind him that you’re actually a married couple.
you’ve been taking care of him when he got sick, made him meals and even did most of the laundry, regardless of the fact that you have tons of servants.
jay has been ignoring you all day and all night ever since you first met, even ordered that you must have separated rooms.
but all it took for him to understand that he so longed for you, is to see you walk away. now, he’s determined to bring you back and love you all over again.
STATUS posted!
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sim jake x fem!reader genre: strangers to lovers , fake relationship , he fell first but she fell harder , runaway royals , fluff , angst ! warnings: mentions of pregnancy(nothing serious i promise trust me) , mentions of food (not specifically, just meals).
your beauty is beyond compare, and you know that. your parents knows that too. which is why they’ve been forcing you to go on dates with filthy princes who wants nothing but to use you and your beauty as a trophy.
you hate that, being treated as an object in the eyes of other people. so you ran away. where? you didn’t know, but you packed your bag and left the house in the late late hours.
what you didn’t expect however, was to get caught by another runaway prince.
“who are you?” you suspiciously asked. “i’m sorry madam, let me introduce myself, i’m sim jake, hybe’s-“
“hybe’s prince” you gasped, “and you are?” he shrugged off the fact that you just cut him in the middle of the sentence.
“i’m l/n y/n—“ “the runaway princess?”
STATUS posted!
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park sunghoon x fem!reader genre: childhood friends to enemies to lovers , one sided love somewhere into the story , heavy angst , fluff ! warnings: character’s death (not a main character) , curse words.
sunghoon has everything, wealth, power, a throne. but none of these matters when he can’t have you by his side.
“i hate you, park sunghoon” you spit out, nothing but hate is in your fierce glance at him. he just chuckled, “you don’t mean that”
“oh i do,” you nodded, “and i’m only doing it because i promised her it’ll happen”
“looking back at that promise, i realize why you used to believe that promises are stupid” you added.
“i’m sorry” he apologized, “sorry isn’t going to change anything, is it?”
STATUS posted!
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kim sunoo x fem!reader genre: mistakenly falling in love , strangers to lovers , fluff , a bit of angst ! warnings: none atm.
the ballroom was full with young royals who are there the celebrate ni-ki’s birthday, the youngest out of the seven brothers.
it was a NO ADULTS party and therefore, the king and the queen ( aka the parents ) tried to describe him who is he going to marry. it was a pretty obvious force marriage.
“you’ll know it when you see her, she’s awfully pretty” they said.
“i’m l/n y/n” you introduced yourself with a curtsy, sunoo took your hand and kissed the back of it, “you look awfully pretty, y/n”
“oh! her name is minju!” right after the party, the queen and the king reminded sunoo that the girl he’s off to marry is named minju.
STATUS posted!
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yang jungwon x fem!reader genre: childhood friends to lovers , promised to marry , fluff , angst ! warnings: none atm.
you’ve known jungwon ever since you can remember. his castle is considered your second home and your castle is considered his second home.
you were pretty confident in your friendship, until you became teenagers and things started to fade away between you two.
he knows you’re promised to him, so why was he so unconfident about it when he saw you talking to other princes?
and you know he’s promised to you, so why do you feel like crying when he’s being introduced to other princesses as well?
STATUS coming soon!!
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nishimura riki x fem!reader genre: troublemakers falling in love , strangers to lovers , dumb and dumber relationship , fluff , angst ! warnings: none atm.
you were some kind of the black sheep in your family, always breaking rules and doing what you’re clearly not supposed to do. you love your freedom.
you heard about a prince who’s just exactly as you are, and you’re more than eager to meet him.
“are you…?” in one of your usual sneak outs, you bumped into a familiar face, “am i…?” he mocked.
“never mind” you shrugged, “i thought you were nishimura riki”
“i thought you’re l/n y/n” he chuckled, it was too dark for the both of you to see each other. “so who are you?” you asked, “nishimura riki, you?”
“l/n y/n”
STATUS coming soon!!
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••• copyright © srjlvr all rights are reserved.
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milkteahood · 2 months
Text
a ghost for a knight
medieval au, chapter 1
Simon Riley x fem!reader
Summary: your father, the king, makes his strongest knight keep watch over you due to you constantly disobeying the rules.
slow burn romance, eventual smut, age gap (reader is in her 20s while ghost is in his late 30s/ early 40s)
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You thought he was merely a myth. Or at least, sort of. You heard the whispers, the other knights talking, but you never actually saw him.
Your father, the king, wasn’t allowing you to leave the premises of the castle, as you were the only heir. To you, he was just a story, a ghost. And to him, you were the same thing, for you had no idea your father was keeping you a secret. Only the most loyal to the family knew about you. So Simon had no idea why the king summoned him.
***
“That is a very good idea Your Highness” the advisor spoke.
“I just want her to be safe is all. She… she really inherited my temper” the king closed his eyes and rubbed one of his temples.
The crack from the secret passage was just enough for you to listen to the conversation. Someone was coming. Someone that was supposed to keep you safe. Safe from what? you thought to yourself. It’s not like I’m allowed to go anywhere.
As quiet as a mouse, you tiptoed away from the passageway and back into the labyrinth hidden into the castle. You knew every door, every crack. In case of a war, you could easily escape. Spending your free time hidden within the walls, listening to everyone’s conversations was something you found incredibly amusing. You knew which of the servants liked you and which couldn’t stand you. The only thing you found bothersome is not getting there in time to listen to your father’s whole conversation. You wanted to know who was coming. Is he planning to marry you off?
***
Exactly two weeks after the initial hearing of your father’s conversation is when the whispers started getting louder. “He is here” “The Ghost” “The Night” “The King’s most trusted” “The Myth” “The Legend”. And it was during one of your latin classes that the servant interrupted to announce that you were supposed by the king.
“Your Highness. The King is summoning you to the throne room” the servant spoke with a bow.
“What is it about?” you asked raising an eyebrow.
“I do not know princess”
“Very well”.
And with that, you stood up, a million thoughts running through your head.
Making your way down to the throne room, beautiful dress dragging behind, you felt a little anxious. After taking a few breaths, you let it known to the guards was alright to open the doors for you.
There stood your father, his advisor and a man. He was dressed like a knight and wore the kingdom’s crest, but you have never seem him before.
Your father’s voice broke your chain of thoughts.
“Y/N. Please step closer. There is something I need to tell you”
“Yes father?” you approached, giving him a small bow. He might’ve been your father, but he was also the king.
“I am aware of your little getaways” his tone was cold, but not angry.
You didn’t dare say more. You knew it was just a matter of time until he found out about your sneaking away from the castle into the forest.
You could feel the man’s eyes on you. He was taking you in.
“I have considered locking you away too” your father continued after a pause “but I know what I raised. You’d eventually escape a cellar too. So, there he is” he gestured towards the man “Sir Simon Riley. The most trustworthy knight and soldier I have. He is from now on in charge of looking after you and keeping you safe”.
***
“I cannot believe this” you finally spoke once you were far enough the hallway “I have been given a nanny”
“Seems like it, princess” Simon said.
“Don’t get smart with me”
He didn’t respond.
***
And so there he always was. When you studied, he was in the room. When you slept he was just outside. He only spoke if spoken to and always walked a couple steps behind you. Only when you’d request him to walk by your side did he ever do that.
There was no more sneaking away into the secret passages. That was something your father didn’t know you did, and you didn’t know just how much Simon reported back to him.
Life began to feel increasingly boring. You felt almost trapped, even more than you previously did. So you started to hatch a plan. How could you get away from Simon, even if it was just for a couple hours. The best solutions are always hidden in plain sight. Simon only ever left your side when you wanted to rest. Of course, he was just outside your door, but you had all the room to yourself. All the room and all the ways outside of it.
So that same evening, you told the knight who was worse than a shadow at this point, that you felt incredibly tired and would return to your chambers earlier.
“As you wish, princess” was all he said as he took his place in front of your door.
You changed out of your gown and into something more suited for what you were about to do.
A wave of adrenaline washed over you as you slipped your shoes off, as to not have your footsteps be heard, and very quietly opened your window. The sunset was magnificent, the breeze cool against your skin. Your room wasn’t very high up, making it very easy to decent off its balcony.
The grass was a little wet under your feet, and you took your sweet time to enjoy this little freedom. But, just as you were about to make a run for it through the palace’s garden, a strong hand wrapped itself around arm.
“Did you really think I was that stupid?” he almost hissed at you.
Your whole mood completely deflated in that moment.
“Well… I sure hoped you’d be” you replied.
His grip on you only tightened, enough to tell you he wasn’t in the mood for your games, but not hard enough to actually hurt.
“I just, really wanted to see the sunset”
“You can see it from your balcony” he replied coldly.
“But”
“No”
“I’m the princess!” you protested.
“And I answer to your father, not you, brat”.
He almost dragged you back inside, marking the first night Simon moved into your room. The king was right, Simon thought. You really were a flight risk. And when his head was on the line, he really wasn’t going to take any shit from a brat half his age.
do not repost my work anywhere. Reblogs are welcomed and appreciated.
pictures were taken from Pinterest. I take no credit for them
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chvnnie · 1 year
Note
Hannie thoughts 🩷
He pursued you so sweetly and now you're expecting a sweet slow courtship. But now that he realizes just how into him you are, he takes full advantage. Rough in the bedroom confident Jisung. 😍 Y/n overwhelmed but secretly loves it.
“courtship” gave me royal vibes. soooOoOOOo
also idk why this is so long!!! im sorry!!! this concept got the best of me!!!
tell me you love royal aus without telling me 🫠
SMUT — MINORS DNI
The kingdom is lucky to have Jisung on their throne. Crowned as a mere teenager, nobody expected the Young King to thrive. What could he possibly know about ruling a kingdom? In three years time, they’ll lose all credibility, and he his head. Just watch; a boy cannot be King.
Within a year, all ill words spoken about the King were silenced. Charismatic, yet shy, he found his footing in royal life with ease. Leading council meetings, carefully listening and fairly judging every case brought to the court. Age is deceiving; the people haven’t had a leader of this quality in many, many years.
It wouldn’t be fair to say Jisung is just a good King. Even though ten years have passed since his coronation, he can still be found dressed in plain clothes without jewels or his crown, riding into town on his precious golden mare. She is cared for by his Hand, and best friend, as he walks the market.
Not a single stall is passed by him, even if the products are the same as the day before. Carefully, he will look over each and every item while making small talk.
“Alright this morning, Sir?”
“Is this a new recipe? The bread is sweeter than usual — it’s wonderful!”
“Oh my, your craft has improved greatly! I am impressed, keep at it!”
And then the King hands them exactly three gold coins even if he has no intention of buying anything. They’ll offer him something; a small item, or a piece of food, but he always denies it. A gift for them. Encouragement. Proof that he sees their skills and what they bring to the kingdom and is appreciative of it. It also reminds them that he truly cares about them as people. Without them, this city wouldn’t flourish the way it does.
Occasionally, he’ll buy something from the baker. He’s particularly fond of the blueberry poppy bread she makes. She’s a good woman; her husband fought hard and loyally for his father, and for that Jisung is eternally grateful for. Some weekends, he’ll visit her in her cottage. Have tea with her, listen to stories of her late beloved and all the great things he did in life.
She always gets five coins. But shush, don’t tell anybody.
At the end of the market is the only stall he’ll buy from everyday. Brown paper, pink twine, white daisies. The same thing, everyday. The florist always gives him a warm smile.
“How is she?”
And it brings a smile to The King’s face. The genuine care in their tones — because he genuinely cares.
“Well.” He digs in his coin purse, always pulling out too many coins. Just speaking about his love tinges his cheeks a dark pink. “As always.”
An exchange — coins, flowers. “When will you wed?”
“Shortly after my celebration day.” He denies the return of extra coins, as usual. “The autumn weather is her favorite.”
“Wish her well for me.”
“Of course.”
Jisung is a man of routine. Personal goodbyes to each and every merchant before he’s back on his horse. The sky is still pink when he’s back at the castle. The Hand takes his horse so the King can walk through the cool halls. Take the winding stairs up to the top level, where the royal family sleeps.
It used to just be him in this hall. Echoey, empty, reminding him of what price has to be paid for him to take the throne.
Not now, though. The room at the opposite end of the hall is now filled, well loved and used.
Taking a right from the staircase brings him to the door. Kindly dismissing the guard, the King knocks three times. A code; announcing himself without having to.
“Come in!”
The curtains are pushed open, fresh sunlight spilling in from the many windows. Yesterday’s daisies are in a crystal vase, sat on the table in the sitting area. Beautifully bloomed, the floral scent filling the golden room.
You’re by the biggest window, sat on the ledge. The glass is pushed open just slightly, letting the spring breeze cool your body. The dress you’re wearing is one of Jisung’s favorites; off the shoulder, a lavender color with little flowers stitched into the neckline with white thread.
The most beautiful soon-to-be Queen the land has ever seen.
“Good morning, petal.” The nickname rolls off his tongue. “Rest well?”
Closing the book, you nod. “And you, my dear?”
“All right.” Only a few steps away, he takes the bouquet out from behind his back and presents it to you. “For you. As always.”
Oh, the bright smile you give him. It’s like he’s falling in love with you all over again. Gracefully, you rise from your seat and take the fresh flowers, bringing to your nose to sniff.
“They’re lovely, Jisung. Thank you.”
Everyday, a peck to his cheek. Quick — you’re far too shy to linger. The King has a routine. So he turns his head just slightly, left side of his face presented to you. Ready to receive your gratitude.
The routine breaks. Swiftly, you walk past your fiancé, taking the flowers to the vase. Leaving him stunned.
Strange.
“I was wondering if today we might ride to the sea?” You don’t look to him as you speak — actually, it looks like you’re trying to hide behind the white flowers. “I’ve been a tad homesick.”
The steps he takes are cautious. “Of course.” Hesitance is laced in his tone. This isn’t your ordinary behavior. “What’s on your mind, darling?”
It’s like you’ve seen a ghost, blood running from your face and eyes widen. But in a snap, the expression is gone. “Oh, nothing. I want to write about the sea, you know how my brother loves it.”
Carefully, Jisung takes a seat on your velvet sofa. “Ah, yes. How is Seungmin?”
“His letters say he is well. The ocean is treating him nicely, though I wish he wouldn’t have chosen that path.”
Son and daughter of a prestigious family. One to be Queen, the other a runaway pirate.
“There’s always room for him in our kingdom. He would do well with us.”
You swallow dryly. What is happening? “The gracious and merciful Young King, what would this world be without you?”
Jisung can’t take this anymore. What has gotten into his beloved? Where is your head at? Grabbing your wrist, he pulls you away from the vase. Making you stand in front of him.
“Speak your worries.”
“I have none, Your Grace—“
“Though merciful, you know I hate to be made a fool.” His eyes narrow, but expression stays soft. “Love, let me help.”
You can’t meet his gaze, staring at the slit in your dress as you speak. “I’m afraid my thoughts are…doubtful.”
“Of?”
Finally, your eyes meet.
“Oh.”
What good is a crown? What good is a throne? What good is this kingdom if you are not by his side? Emotions tear at him, making his lip tremble despite his best efforts.
“Not of that kind.” You quickly reassure, catching the hurt on his face. “You are my love, Jisung. I would never want a life without you.”
“Good, good.” He won’t deny his worry. That isn’t fair to you. “Then what is it?”
Jisung thinks you’re precious. You still get so shy around him, even after years together. Especially when you want to express your feelings or ask for something.
Reassuringly, he rubs his thumb over the top of your hand, still caught in his. “You don’t have to—“
“I don’t want to wait any longer.”
The way you said it, so firm and confident. As if you’ve been pondering this, an opinion you’ve held for a while and are now sure of. The King is taken aback briefly, trying to figure out what your words mean.
“For the wedding?” It’s all he can come up with, but even he doesn’t sound too sure in it. “I’m sure we could plan it for the upcoming solstice, my love, if that’s what you desire.”
You shake your head quickly, and he can tell you’re starting to second guess saying it. “No, no. I want to wed in autumn. I don’t want to wait for you.”
What ever could you mean? Wait for him? Why, he’s right here. Touching you, speaking to you. Are you feeling ill? Those words make no—
Oh.
Oh, how he made himself the fool.
Suddenly, he’s in dire need of wine. Mouth dry, tongue heavy. Though he’s had many, many dreams of you in such a way, never would he push it on you. You felt as if your body was sacred, and he respected that. The King wants nothing but for you to feel comfortable and safe around him. If you were waiting for him, he would be waiting for you as well.
Sometimes the dresses you wear do drive him mad. Form fitting and hugging your curves, or with a lower neckline that he can see down at the right angle. Those have made it hard, and only starved him more. Like dangling bread in front of the hungry.
“Are you certain?” Jisung finally speaks, tone dropping several octaves.
You nod, softly wrapping your other hand around the one he has grasped. It’s so delicate, how you drop to your knees in front of him. Starry eyes blinking at him.
“More than, my King.” You bring the hands to your lips, soft kisses across his knuckles. “My patience is dry. I no longer want to wait for your love.”
“Rise.”
“What?”
“Your King gave you a command.” His demeanor changes like a switch, the feral need he’s drowned for so long rising to the surface. “Rise. No Queen of mine will ever kneel, even for me.”
Your eyes never leave his, standing up fully in front of him. He follows, using your hand as a guide up and into your body. A hand on the left side of your neck, fingers creeping into your perfectly combed hair. It’s used to bring your lips to his, properly kissing you.
Many kisses have been shared between you, but none like this. It’s intense, every pent up and buried feeling finding new life with the movement of your lips. It’s more addictive than the blueberry poppy bread from the baker, tongues desperate for the taste to linger. For the feelings to stay.
Loving you is a greater honor than the crown, the King is sure of it.
He curses your corset, making you giggle when he spins you gracefully to get a better look at it. The tugs on it are rough, eager to get the fabric off your body. Heavens, Jisung knows he loves this dress but does it have to be so dreadful to remove?
It’s too much. Your desires tangle with his own, sparking brighter than the jewels on the crown. Than the gold of coins. The energy it deepens the King’s decent — the hole you’re tumbling into doesn’t have a bottom.
Your nails rip his shirt, accidentally tangling the strings of his pants in your rush. There’s no grace in the first moments. Ready to see each other’s bodies, to touch, to taste. To be one.
The King tries his best to be gentle with you. To give you the sweetest kisses, careful touches. He’s heard stories, knows that it can be too much. The last thing he wants is for you to not find pleasure in this.
But, it can only last for so long. The breaking comes with he accidentally takes your breath away — truly, he didn’t mean to place his hand there. Apologies are ready to fumble out when he sees it.
The look you give him. Shocked, a little frightened. But excited.
Jisung never considered his ego very large, but he’s open to self reflection.
“Oh, petal, is this what you like?” He squeezes your throat, tips of his fingers digging into your soft skin. Though you nod, there’s no real need for an answer. He can feel it in the clench around his cock, the legs hooked around his waist pulling him closer. With a dry laugh, he picks up the pace of his hips. Fucking you hard enough the bed is becoming unstable. “I have to admit my surprise. The shy, gentle Queen likes to be fucked like a common whore.”
As soon as the words leave, he feels a tinge of regret. What harsh words to say to someone he loves—
Do his eyes deceive him? You’re whimpering, nodding your head. Unable to speak from the lack of air, but in full agreement.
Heavens. The King is done for.
“I’m sure they’d be glad to have you at the brothel.” Control is lost, the wooden frame starting to crack under the King’s intense movements. “Let the people have a taste of the King’s favorite cunt.”
“N-no.” You seem to speak. “Only y-you—“
“Aw, don’t be selfish, petal.” He pinches your cheek, finding joy in the tears painting your face. “You know I am a generous ruler.”
Jisung enjoys riling you up like this. Enjoys the tears, the cries, the way you’re twitching and squirming underneath him. Not to escape. No, from the force of something world shattering.
“Are you going to cum?” He teases you. “From those awful threats?”
You cannot help yourself, nodding quickly. Little, soft begs falling from your lips.
Maybe Jisung is power hungry. Maybe the crown has gone to his head. Maybe that’s why he laughs, stopping to leave you right on the edge. You’re so distraught, wide eyed and frantically begging for him to finish.
“Oh, but petal. I never said I would be generous to you.”
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randomfanfics02 · 2 years
Text
Daemon Targaryen x F!Reader.
Summary; Reader is the eldest daughter of King Targaryen and heir to the throne but a males pride gets in the way.  Warning; A badass reader, incest, male pride and smutty themes.
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You were the next in line, as the eldest child to the King you were to be Queen. But the Queen, Hightower, had now given birth to a male heir and Otto was trying to replace you, ‘A woman can’t rule, it must me a man or marry her to a powerful man that will rule.’  And now your father wants to marry you off to Otto Hightower to make the families unite all together. Otto was over the moon, with his daughter as Queen and you as his soon to be wife, he would be the Kings first hand man forever and would have more power in the decisions made for the kingdom. 
You sigh, leaning against the balcony ledge as you watch Otto walk around with his daughter in the gardens below. He wore a menacing smile as the Queen places a hand on her swollen belly as her maid takes the young prince back into the palace. 
“I heard about your marriage,” 
You hum, not bothering to turn around as Daemon leans against the balcony door. He watches your long hair blow gently in the wind, exposing the low cut at the back of your dress. He moves closer, standing next to you as you watch Otto look up at you with a sick smile, you keep your eyes trained on him as his eyes move to Daemon who smirks back at him.
“I hate him,” You say, eyes following Otto as he follows the Queen back into the castle.
“Now now, dear niece,” Daemon chuckles, “That’s no way to talk about your future cunt of a husband.” 
He watches as a small smile appears on your face as you turn to him, “You know I have a dragons heart Uncle-”
“And you spit fire darling,” He finishes with his own soft smile, one only you got to see. 
“I wish father would recognise it,” You sigh, wondering back into your room, Daemon following as you sit on the edge of your bed. 
“You are to be Queen darling,” Daemon sits beside you, “Your the eldest-” 
“If I become Queen, Otto is to be king,” You lean you head on his shoulder, “And Queen Bitch now to desperate to suck the kings cock to see that her own father is using her for leverage.” 
“And now he is getting what he wants,” Daemon takes your hand in his, “When does the wedding celebration begin?” 
“Tomorrow,” You answer. 
“Then I guess we need to make tonight count my darling.” 
---
You pull the hood over your eyes as you make your way through the secret passages between the castle walls, Daemon’s hand held tightly in your own as he guides you through the passages. He takes you out to the back gardens of the castle, the overgrown trees and grass towering over the old path. Your fingertips gently brush over the flowers and tall grass as Daemon tugs you along through the woods. The moon peaks through the trees above as the wind gently blows a dust of leaves across the path. 
“Dae,” You mutter, tugging him back into you gently as you smile. 
There in the clearing was Caraxes, Daemon smiles down at you as you let go of his hand. Walking over to the dragon who nudges his head in your direction with a quiet groan as he welcomes you. You take down your hood as you place a hand on the side of the dragons face, your fingertips running over its scales. Daemon watches with you with a rare smile as he stands behind you, placing a hand on your hip as your back leans against his chest. His fingers lace over yours, pressing your hand gently against to scales as Caraxes pushes into your touch. 
“You are always his favourite,” Daemon whispers, thumb running gently over you hip. 
“I should be,” You tease. 
“Maybe you should come back to Dragonstone with me,” Daemon’s lips brush against your temple, “Live with me my darling, be my Queen.” 
You sigh, leaning into him more as your hand drops from his, “Dae, you know father won’t-”
“Fuck your father,” Daemon turns you around cupping your face as his purple eyes meet yours, “You know we could rule the kingdoms, all of them, we are powerful; we have hearts of the dragons and spit fire. I love you.” 
“And I love you, my King,” You reply with a smile. 
Daemon places his forehead against yours, your eyes close in content as his thumbs run over your cheekbones. 
“Take me home Dae.” 
---
You hips roll against his. Your naked chest pressed against his as you moan. His hands tighten around your waist as you lean your forehead on the side of his temple as you quicken your pace. You're grinding against him so hard and so fast, you're lost in your own world, feeling so full. Daemon moans breathlessly as you clench around his thick cock, its head hitting that spot inside you that made you see stars. 
“Y/n,” Daemon moans as his two fingers rub over your clit, making you gasp at the sudden added pleasure. 
You press your lips onto his, all teeth and tongue with desperation. You pull away as Daemon adds pressure to your clit, head thrown back as you continue to roll your hips against his. His soft lips pressing cold, harsh kisses on your neck, bruises littering your skin. 
“I’m gonna come, Daemon,” You whispered against his skin, voice cracking with a cry.
“Let go love,” Daemon replied, with a harp breath as your pussy tightens around his cock, “Let me fill you up with my cum, let me take you as mine.” 
You let the strong wave of pleasure wash over you, Daemon instantly following you as he fills you up with his hot cum. Your forehead leans against his as you both calm down, breaths heavy as Daemons lips brush against yours. You sit comfortably on his lap as his holds onto you tighter. Your fingers playing with his short hair, fingertips brushing against his nape, Daemon hums in content as he holds onto you. 
“I love you, my King,” 
“I love you too, my Queen.”
---
It was the start of the wedding celebration. The King sat with the Queen at his side, Otto sat beside his daughter and Rhaenyra sat beside the King. Daemon sat at the end of the table as the crowd fills the dance floor and tables as they eat. Celebrations started an hour ago but they were missing the bride.
“Where is she?” The King asks, “Where is my daughter?” 
“The maids say that she is not in her room,” The Queen tattles, “They haven’t seen her since yesterday night.” 
“She was with Prince Daemon yesterday evening,” Otto informs the King as Daemon chuckles.
“What’s so funny brother?” The King glares at him.
“The fact your daughters future husband can’t tame her already,” Daemon smirks, “She has a mind of her own and no weak minded cunt will contain her.” 
Rhaenyra smiles, her Uncle was right, Otto had no chance of marrying a dragon when he was a weak little mouse amongst the dragons. Suddenly all the crowds go silent, heads all turned to the entrance. The Queen gasps, the King, Otto and Daemon turning to see where all the attention was focused on. 
There you stood; a black dress hugging your curves, a lace tight fitting dress with jewels littering over your chest, a black silk trail around your waist. Your hair now cut short, sweeping over your shoulders, black jewel pinning some of your hair back. The crowd gasps as you step into the hall. Otto’s eyes widen in shock as Daemon smirks, his eyes never leaving yours. Your eyes glint with mischief as you strut towards the head table all, the family standing in your presence. 
“Your late,” The King looks down at you, 
“I apologise but I had to come back from my castle,” You reply watching your father frown as Otto shares a look with his daughter.
“Your castle is here-”
“You see father, you have made a mistake,” You interrupt making a few gasp as Otto stares down at you, “You are marrying me off the a stupid cunt that used his daughter to get to you. He just wants more power and a say in the kingdoms decision, he want what you have, a crown.” 
The Queen glares down at you as your sister smirks at you as you send her a cheeky wink before continuing as the King moves his eyes from his wife and back down to you, “I won’t give it to him. I refuse to marry a mouse amongst the dragons. So I did what you don’t have the balls to do.”
Daemon stands walking down the few steps towards you, cupping your cheek as he tilts your head up to press a passionate kiss on your lips. The crowd gasps as the King’s eyes widen and Otto stutters. Daemon pulls away with a smirk as he takes your hand in his and the two of you face the King again. 
“I would like to introduce you to my wife, brother,” Daemon says, head held high as his eyes meet Otto’s, “My new Queen and my future Queen to the seven kingdoms.”
“This is ridiculous-”
“You took an oath, you took me to the dragons and declared me Queen when you pass and that is an unbreakable treaty that you can’t take back,” You say, hand tightening around Daemons, “And every Queen needs her King and Daemon is now mine.” 
“I deserve this! I deserve to be King!” Otto shouts standing up quickly, making his chair fall back harshly, “I worked hard-”
“You made your daughter fuck the King to make sure you had leverage over him,” You fire back, “You wanted a King to rule after my father passing and you wanted them to be a Hightower so something came from your family name that wasn’t the word cowered or cunt.” 
Daemon chuckles as Otto turns bright red, Rhaenyra placing her hand over her mouth as she hides her laugh. The King looks at his wife who looks down at her lap. 
“Now if you don’t mind,” Daemon breaks the silence, “Me and my wife are going to celebrate our new marriage.”
You and Daemon turn around and walk back down the hall, hand in hand as all eyes are on you. But you stop, Daemon turning to you with a slight frown as your turn to your father who watches you. 
“Before you let Otto whisper in your ear about trying to plot to kill us or hurt Daemon to bring me home,” You speak loudly and clearly, hand held tightly in Daemons, “I will retaliate with more fire than all the seven kingdoms dragons breath, my husband and I are the King and Queen and nothing will change that.”
Daemon leads you out of the hall, the two of you hand in hand as the King shouts echo through the castle for people to leave. Daemon had never felt so happy, with you by his side the two you became the most powerful King and Queen the seven Kingdoms had ever known. With a Dragons heart and a spit of fire, nothing could stop you.
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jean0farc · 8 months
Text
#!! - 𝑰𝑵 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑪𝑶𝑼𝑹𝑻 𝑶𝑭 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑪𝑹𝑰𝑴𝑺𝑶𝑵 𝑸𝑼𝑬𝑬𝑵 — 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐧𝐞 ; ᴄᴏʀᴏɴᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴅᴀʏ
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(Cross-posted from my AO3)
CHAPTER ONE - CHAPTER TWO - CHAPTER THREE
𝖌𝖊𝖓𝖗𝖊: smut.
𝖕𝖆𝖎𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖌: Griffith X You (fem! Reader)
𝖘𝖞𝖓𝖔𝖕𝖘𝖎𝖘:
Having been spoiled by your father as an only child after your mother’s death, there existed you, a young, yet rebellious maiden known amongst Midland as Princess Scarlet. Being the subject of envy by commoners who wanted nothing more than to overthrow the kingdom, you were rather…..indifferent. As a princess, you exercised pride in your achievements, deeming you fit for the role of succeeding your father on the throne.
Even after your father’s death caused by poisoning, your dream to have your own kingdom never faltered in the slightest. In fact, ruling over Midland with an iron fist has been made easy and simple considering your royal blood.
Subsequently, your ambitious demeanor and philosophy attracted none other than the military genius who led a group of mercenaries known as the Band of The Hawk. Sir Griffith; a man who never fell short of what were to be defined as a noble, if it were not for his common blood.
To put it simply, Griffith never planned on building his empire overnight. Instead, he harbored ulterior motives where he would rather…..bend you, the Queen, to his liking before taking over Midland.
….And the consequences of YOU having a fragile ego never ceased to reveal itself.
𝖈𝖜: none as of now.
𝕬𝖚𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖗’𝖘 𝕹𝖔𝖙𝖊:
No smut for the first chapter!
To minors: this space isn’t for you. Berserk is a warning in itself. Go away. Do not interact.
Anyways, I’m back with a new fic and it’s basically my own version while still keeping the canon verse of Berserk clear.
In this verse, expect certain things:
— Princess Charlotte does NOT exist.
— YOU are the Princess/Queen of Midland.
— The story will mainly focus on Griffith, not Guts.
Before commenting, I would like to caution you for potential rape/non-con elements (it’s Griffith we’re talking about here) to be depicted in later chapters of the story.
What I write is pure fantasy, and is mostly just me projecting on my original character (in this case, Queen Scarlet) who has a rather peculiar relationship with Griffith.
Anyways, grab some popcorn, and chill a little while we watch our original character slowly get taken advantage of by the devil himself.
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The Kingdom of Midland. Such is a name given to the central region of the Physical World where nobles dominate and savages eliminate. One had the luxury of resting within the comfort of their own home while dining with only the finest cuisine made known to man. The other had to hustle and kill for the sake of money and survival…....while for potential evildoers and traitors, the sake of achieving their dream.
It was your coronation day after all, one of the most awaited events in all of Midland’s history. Following your father’s death caused by an incident of poisoning, the nobles immediately turn to you as a successor to the throne. You were a bit nervous, so to speak, but ready to accept your new role and give your speech as the newly appointed ruler of Midland.
It was already sunset, the halls decorated with red roses, bushes, and your favorite type of flower, the Amaryllis. You just loved the sight of red the way you liked your tea. Red, so to speak, was your favorite color. It just looks and feels powerful, like the way sunlight pierces its way through your eyes. You liked shoving your presence down people’s throats, to make them remember your name as you rejoiced in your own superiority as the new Queen.
Red was the visual embodiment of your dream—to rule and render yourself capable of building your own empire. Because of that, the King, your very own father, feared for your safety. And boy, was that prediction true.
Not only was your safety compromised, but prior to meeting the White Hawk who was addressed as Sir Griffith, things went downhill after that encounter as a sudden number of royal guards dropped dead. Not only were you disgusted by the smell of blood that filled the hallways the week before your coronation, but the five words whispered to your ear was what sent chills across your spine. Those five words made you shiver in questionable fear despite you taking it as just an empty threat.
“You belong to me, Princess.”
And then came the surge of mysterious events such as your father’s death.
Supposedly, you were expected to be excited for such an event like the coronation ceremony as you longed all your life to become Queen, but something about the whole situation didn’t feel right. You were at a loss for words, being unable to understand why your father was poisoned in an instant and how planning the ceremony felt rushed.
You shivered at the thought of meeting the Band of the Hawk once more, immediately suspecting that one of them killed your father.
“Our beloved guests, our crowning guests, respected parents of the nobles, and that of the civilians. Ladies and gentlemen, good afternoon.” announced the event speaker of the ceremony. “Once again, we have gathered here to witness the coronation ceremony of the Royal Family to be headed by Queen Scarlet and the rest of the officials appointed to serve her Majesty. Kindly rise for the ceremony proper.”
A huge audience of youngsters stood to give thanks towards your family for a job well done in leadership, singing songs of praise as time passed by. You were, of course, getting quite the goosebumps knowing your time is up as a princess. However, you can’t help but falter, thinking of your father’s untimely demise just about two weeks ago.
You were lost in thought, unable to pay attention to the songs sung in honor of you. Something was very wrong. You sweat and panted hard, not because you didn’t know what to say or do given the situation, but because you didn’t want to actually meet up with Griffith and the rest of his comrades due to some suspicions about the leader’s motives.
“Before we start, may I request everyone to observe silence as the ceremony begins to maintain its solemnity. Reserve your ‘hoorays’ for the latter part of the coronation. Thank you very much for your full cooperation.”
The rest of the coronation ceremony followed. You were nervous, biting your nails as you slowly prepared your speech in front of thousands. You knew Griffith would be watching
Tick-tock. Tick-tock. Tick-tock.
Alas, it was your turn to give out a speech that serves as a public declaration of your aims, intentions, and actions to be taken to further improve the economic and sociocultural growth of Midland.
Standing up, you could feel the eyes of crowds searching you from head to toe, but none of them ever gave you the impression that someone was truly watching you.
At the exterior of the venue, there sneaked a young man with white, flowing hair and a pair of blue eyes. It was him. Griffith. He didn’t make his own presence clear before you, he covered his tracks very well. But, little did he know, you could peek at his silhouette from afar. Knowing he made his way past the guards with extreme caution showed his prowess in strategy and disarming opponents with great ease.
Yes, he just wanted to hear your speech. After all, knowing how someone would open up about a fraction of their lives would be crucial in undergoing one’s plan to achieving their dreams, yes?
This was your moment. You let out a deep breath and spoke clearly as you cleared your throat.
“Greetings, my beloved fellowmen. It’s been a pleasure having to meet with you all to this very moment.” you greeted the audience with a friendly, approachable tone. “Throughout this memorable day, I was able to discern all your prayers dedicated to me and my family, especially in honor of my father’s passing. As an inherent successor to the throne, I have maintained a significant awareness through the years that my people, spread far and wide throughout every continent and ocean in the world, were united to support me in the task to which I have now been dedicated with such solemnity.”
The muffled voice of your speech was rendered audible to Griffith from the outskirts of the palace. He was perhaps….fascinated by your rather….pushy attitude on things. It didn’t take long before he palmed the area between his hips, hiding such an unsightly appearance as he began to fantasize about you under his control. He wanted nothing more than to dissect you in every detail possible, to know your deepest fears and motives of having to rule such a flawed kingdom. But little did you know, was that he wanted this kingdom all to himself.
“The ceremonies you have seen today are ancient, but some of their origins are hidden in the mists of the past. Their spirit and meaning still rise from the flames of finiteness. Perhaps, they still shine more brightly than we’ve expected them to do so. I have pledged allegiance with all my heart that I shall lead this kingdom, uplifting it further to claiming a thousand more victories than you would ever anticipate. Throughout all my life and with all my heart I shall strive to be worthy of your trust.”
Griffith’s eyes narrowed as he hid behind the doors alongside the two guards who were apparently slain before they could even fight back.
He wanted you.
And there was nothing more satisfying than breaking one of the strongest, most powerful women who once took an interest in the art of swordsmanship. But he would rather not challenge you to a duel; not because he underestimated your capabilities, but because he saw such barbaric acts to be unbefitting of a lady with high status.
An hour later, trumpets played as the Grim Reapers of the Battlefield were to be promoted as bodyguards, yes, bodyguards, of your kingdom. The King trusted you to this group of mercenaries who promised nothing short of protecting your integrity and wellbeing as the princess. But one thing’s for sure, it’s that their leader was bound to be missing.
You stepped down from the stage to observe your audience for any problems which may arise from the White Hawk’s absence.
“Wait, where’s Griffith? But he was just here about minutes ago!” Rickert exclaimed. “He can’t just be wandering out in the open like this! Griffith! Hang in there! We’re on our way!”
“Cut the crap.” Guts said, alerting his fellow comrades. “There must be a way to proceed with the ceremony without Griffith being of any concern.”
“But Guts-”
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Recognizing and appreciating your bodyguards (or perhaps, some new friends) wasn’t all that bad. Perhaps you were intimidated by some of the mercenaries, but they played an integral part of your big day.
It was only one moment within that band that spooked you, it was the White Hawk revealing himself—it was Griffith. By that moment when Griffith claimed you to be his, you began to not take those words lightly and managed to develop a slight sense of fear. What did he exactly mean by that?
You brushed off your thoughts on the matter and shook hands with nearly all the members, with Griffith being an exception (obviously). Rumor has it that he’s still hiding where the sun doesn’t shine, covering his tracks in order to reveal himself before you in the very end.
And God forbid what kind of plans he had for you that night.
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thesithdiaries · 2 years
Text
A Beast (Harwin Strong imagine)
A Beast (Harwin Strong imagine)
Pairing: Harwin Strong x female Targaryen!reader 
Requested: nope
Warnings: brief mention of offing oneself, slight misogyny if you squint, spoilers for episode 1 and 3, typical westeros bs
A/N: this is much needed happiness for what happened in the show + this was basically inspired by the preview of queen charlotte’s netflix series (bridgerton prequel) PLEASE WATCH IF YOU HAVENT. literally sent a message to @astraljedi the second i finished watching that video (she sent it to me cause i had to idea this show was even happening)
-
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Despite being King Viserys first born daughter, Y/N had no intention of being a queen. Although she loved the attention, the balls, the feasts, the beautiful dresses and jewelry, and all the privileges that came with being the daughter of a king, she was not interested in ruling seven kingdoms. She found it dreadful, borderline psychotic. And sitting with the small council for hours, deciding what to do in certain situations made her feel bored. 
After Queen Aemma and Prince Baelon passed, Viserys set his eyes on Y/N. He had to find a way to keep his brother Daemon from the throne, therefore he decided his daughter would be the heir and would sit on the Iron Throne after he passed. Y/N knew he was planning this. Nobody had told her, but she did notice her father giving her looks while someone brought up there were no male heirs, citing that the Realm has been in twenty-one years of uncertainty and doubt.
“Your Grace,” a Kingsguard called, looking rather pale like he was about to faint. “Princess Y/N has requested your presence.”
Viserys looked perplexed for a second before making his way out of the room. Otto Hightower, however, was deeply annoyed. He still did not understand how the princess could order her father around.
Inside her bedchamber, Y/N sat on her desk. It was filled with history books, papers, and pens scattered all around. The door opened, revealing her father. He quickly smiled when he saw what she was doing. Y/N always showed a fascination for history.
“You called?” He cheekily asked, taking a seat next to her. His eyes scanned the table, she was reading about past kings.
“Yes. I thought about going to you but I am too tired to walk,” Y/N confessed.
“So you make me walk here?” Viserys faked a surprised face, Y/N always had the same excuse.
“I just wanted to speak to you privately,” she explained.
“Well then, speak,” Viserys softly urged her.
“I do not want to be queen.”
The air felt tense immediately at her confession. The king did not know what to answer, his mouth opening to refute her terrible idea but no words came out.
“I am not fit to rule. It is simply not me. Father, I know you have had this on your mind since you exiled uncle Daemon but I cannot accept the responsibility of being your heir.”
“My sweet girl, have you always felt this way?” He asked with concern, grabbing her hand, while she nodded. “Why did you keep this to yourself?”
“I did not want to anger you… and I also did not want you to be disappointed. Even if you keep it to yourself, I know you feel disappointed that Rhaenyra and I are not boys.”
“No no, you misjudged me. I love you and your sister. Yes, me having a son would relieve you from this burden but that does not mean I feel disappointed about my daughters. You and Rhaenyra are my biggest blessings and I will always thank your mother for giving me two amazing daughters.”
Y/N sniffled, this was the first real conversation that they had since the funeral. Her father’s words felt genuine. Viserys always made sure to be present in their lives, to show them love and affection.
“However; what am I supposed to do now t-”
“Rhaenyra can be your heir,” Y/N declared.
Viserys eyebrows rose with curiosity. “Rhaenyra? Has she spoken to you about this?”
“Honestly, no, she has not. But father, she can rule the kingdoms. Even if she does not participate, she learns from being in the small council meetings. Talk to her. She deserves being on the Iron Throne.”
They sat in silence for a few minutes, until Viserys stood up to hug her. Y/N buried her face in his chest, feeling grateful that her father understood and did not argue about her decision.
-
They had decided to do a hunt to celebrate Aegon’s second nameday.
Y/N sat with the other ladies while she ate some sweet treats. It was mindless chatter, Alicent tried to include her in the conversation but Y/N only gave short answers to whatever they were asking about. Rhaenyra was nowhere in sight, which aggravated Y/N. Where could she possibly be? 
With nothing else to do, Y/N excused herself and left the tent. The thought of going to sleep for the rest of the day sounded blissful.
“Pardon me, Princess?” A man interrupted her thoughts. “My name is Theodore Tyrell.”
Y/N smiled politely as he handed her a fruit bowl. “I gathered that from the rose on your chest. Thank you.”
“I do not think we've been properly introduced. I never found the correct opportunity to speak with you privately.”
“Oh,” Y/N awkwardly smiled. “Here I am. A pleasure to meet you, my lord.”
“Have you ever been to Highgarden?” Theodore asked.
“Twice, yet I am too young to remember,” Y/N replied, a feeling of dread filling her heart.
“You would love it. Highgarden is filled with flowers all around. Beautiful roses climbing up walls. The sights of the roseroad and the ocean road are simply breathtaking. However, we do not have a dragonpit…”
“Why, if I may ask, do you need a dragonpit?” Y/N hissed, pushing the bowl of fruits into his hands before the anger got the best of her.
“To house dragons, of course,” he replied with a condescending tone.
Y/N turned around and stormed into the tent, marching toward her father. “Oh, sweetheart, I was just about to call for you.” Viserys' smile dropped when he realized his daughter was seething with anger. “Are you alright?”
“Lord Tyrell? That is your best choice?” Y/N barked at him. “That man could be my grandfather.”
“You are of age, Y/N. Three-and-twenty, it is time for you to marry. It has been for a while.”
“That man? I would rather throw myself from the highest tower at the Red Keep before marrying him.” Viserys' eyes widened at her threat.
“Enough! I have been trying to speak about this with you since you became of age and all you have given me have been excuses. You must marry! It is your duty, especially now that your sister is the heir.” Viserys exclaimed, capturing the attention of everyone in the tent. People were staring, some of them murmuring about the conversation between the King and his daughter. “You and your sister will marry, whether you both like it or not. That is not up for discussion.”
Princess Y/N was quietly crying out of anger and frustration. Deep down in her heart, she knew her father was right, she needed to marry. Viserys went silent, mentally scolding himself for upsetting his precious daughter.
After their heated conversation, Y/N retired to her tent for the day, stating she was not to be disturbed under any circumstances. 
-
Hours later, after the king had sunk into his cups, Lord Strong decided to try his luck.
“Excuse me, Your Grace.” Lyonel stood in front of the King, at the bottom of the steps. “Can we speak for a moment?”
Viserys sighed. “Should I guess? You believe that your son, Ser Harwin “Breakbones”, the strongest man in the Seven Kingdoms, is the best match for Y/N.”
Lyonel cleared his throat. “Yes sir, I believe so. My son, from what I have noticed, could be the only one that can deal with the princess. He is heir to Harrenhall, his strength and knowledge of battle will keep the princess protected. And the area is big enough to build a dragonpit.”
“Are you sure about this? Do you think my daughter will agree to this arrangement?” Viserys was unsure. Surely his daughter would not like this at all. 
“Perhaps she will try and fight it, Your Grace. They should at least meet and have a conversation, maybe that will help. We should not just send them off to wed immediately. My son would not like that either.”
Viserys hummed. “After we return to king’s Landing, I will talk to her. I suggest you do the same with your son.”
-
Days later, in the Red Keep, Y/N was actively ignoring her father. She was still hurt about how their conversation played out. She ate all her meals in her bedchamber, only leaving when she knew her father was in a small council meeting. Alicent also made attempts to get them to talk but Y/N was not interested.
During the night, she felt relaxed to go out and sneak some food from the kitchens and new books, when she was intercepted by the King.
“Y/N!” He yelled, startling her. “You cannot keep doing this. We must talk.”
She shook her head and walked faster to her chamber, but he was close behind. Y/N could not close the door before he got inside. “Father, please, leave me alone.”
“No! I am sick of this, Y/N. You will not keep avoiding me,” Viserys raged. She sighed, sitting on her bed in defeat. “You will marry, I have found you a suitor.”
Y/N opened her mouth to protest, only for Viserys to raise his hand to make her stop.
“This is not up for discussion. You will meet him tomorrow night.”
“Who is he?” She asked and Viserys turned around to leave. “Father! Who is he? What is his name!” 
The king had left. Y/N yelled in frustration, she hated not knowing.
Meanwhile, on the other side of the castle, Lyonel was about to speak with Harwin. “Son, do you have a moment?”
“Of course, father. What is it?” Harwin put down the paper he was reading to focus on Lyonel.
“You are to be wed.” He blurted out. Harwin felt the air being sucked out of him. “I spoke with the king during the hunt. You are to marry princess Y/N.”
“What? The king agreed to your proposal?” He was stunned. “What did princess Y/N say?”
“She, uh… she does not know you are the suitor,” Lyonel confessed. “We think it is better like this.”
“Father, that is absurd. She must be losing her mind at the uncertainty, you know that.”
Lyonel sighed. “I know, son. As I said, you will meet her tomorrow night. The king is already planning a feast in honor of this union.” 
Harwin did not know what to think. He had not met Y/N, only saw her from a distance during the hunt. He was captivated by her beauty. He could only hope Y/N was not too upset when she found out it was him.
-
The following morning, Y/N was speaking with Rhaenyra while they ate breakfast together.
“Sister, you have to forgive father eventually,” Rhaenyra reminded her while taking a bite out of an apple.
“I know,” Y/N exhaled. “I just… I just feel that he does not care about my opinion on the matter.”
“If that were the case, you would be in Highgarden right now.”
Y/N gave her a look. “I suppose you are right. Have you heard anything about this mysterious suitor?”
“No, I am afraid I have not,” Rhaenyra confessed. “Father has been very secretive since we came back from the hunt.” Y/N covered her face with her hands, letting out an exasperated sigh. “Perhaps you will like him, he could be very handsome.”
“Or he could be a beast,” Y/N contradicted.
-
Nobody in the castle talked about the suitor. The princess has not heard not even a whisper about him. It frightened her immensely. 
The hours moved quickly and it was time for them to meet. Viserys had arranged the small hall for this. Almost everything was going according to plan, but they did not know what the princess was up to in the gardens.
Y/N was currently trying to climb up a wall using flower branches. She planned to climb up, run from the castle, and come back the following morning. It sounded easy in her head, but now that it had to be executed, Y/N found it was not so simple. On the other hand, Harwin was on his way to the hall when he saw someone with silver locks trying to escape. He chuckled, walking up to stand under an arch.
“Hello, my lady. Are you in need of any assistance?” Harwin asked, holding his hands behind his back.
“I am quite fine, thank you. You can go back inside and do whatever,” she dismissed him.
“I will. But I am curious… What are you doing?”
“Nothing,” she answered.
“You are doing something,” Harwin observed.
“I am not.”
“You are.”
Y/N got down from the branch, staring at the wall. “If you must know, I am trying to ascertain the best to climb over this garden wall.” She put her hands on her hips.
“Climb? Whatever for?” Harwin wondered with an amused expression.
“I think he may be a beast.”
“A beast?” He answered in surprise. “Who are we discussing?
“That is none of your business.” The princess slightly turned to say this to him before focusing her attention on the wall, causing Harwin to take a sharp breath to calm himself. “My suitor,” he smirked. “No one will speak of him with me. He is clearly a beast.”
“Understood,” Harwin nodded.
“If I grab here, perhaps you can assist me by lifting me up,” Y/N moved her hand to get his attention, then proceeded to climb up the branches again. 
“You do not like beasts? What he looks like matters?” Harwin wondered.
“I do not care what he looks like. What I do not like is not knowing.” Harwin was right then, he told his father this. “Now, here. Just hold here, with a lift I believe I can climb up the garden wall.”
“You want me to lift you over so you may escape?” Harwin repeated what she requested, still feeling amused. “People will notice you are missing.”
“I will worry about that later. Now, please make haste.”
“I have absolutely no intention of helping you.”
Y/N got down and walked towards him. “I am a lady in distress. You refuse to help a lady in distress?”
“I refuse when that lady in distress is trying to go over a wall so she does not have to marry me.”
Y/N was stunned. “You? You are the man I am supposed to marry?” Her cheeks were red in embarrassment.
“I am deeply sorry if I look like a beast, princess,” Harwin teased. “I would have thought the same if I had not known it was you.”
“You,” she cleared her throat, “who are you?”
“Ser Harwin Strong,” he introduced himself while grabbing her hand to kiss it.
“Lord Strong’s son?” Y/N questioned with confusion.
“So you have heard about me,” Harwin smirked.
“If I am honest, only your name.” Y/N’s cheeks were even more flushed if that was possible. “I, umm… I will see you inside. Excuse me, Ser.”
Y/N almost ran, wanting to be away from him as soon as possible. Harwin, however, was faster. He grabbed her arm to make her stop and turn to him, bringing her close to his body. “Wait, princess.”
“This is not proper,” she stuttered.
“Neither is you trying to escape,” Harwin noted. Y/N failed to get out of his grip once again, his hold was tight but not enough to hurt.
“What must I do for you to let me go?” Y/N pouted.
“Just have a conversation with me before we go to the hall, so you can see I am not the beast you thought of,” he proposed. Y/N huffed in defeat, but deep down she was intrigued by him.
“Lead the way, Ser Harwin.”
//
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lina-lovebug · 6 months
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Tumultuous Waters
Ch.1
Orm Marius fanfic
Warnings: allusions to abuse and sexual assault
I have lived my life without love.
I never once felt affection for my husband, nor did I ever think what he held for me was pure.
He looked at me once and claimed me to be his, but my refusal came with denial. I was his from the moment he laid his eyes upon me, and no power on Olympus nor Earth could keep him from me.
Even when he lay with me, I prayed it would be over soon. I would watch above, hoping to be struck so that I wouldn't have to hear his grunts and feel his skin on mine.
This is the life of a wife to a God.
Yet I was able to find some happiness in our marriage.
I bore a son named Triton, who became King of the Seven Seas. He bore my eyes, which I took pride in. Of course I would never blame my son for the actions of his father, but I had sighed in relief when I saw that the only relation he held to Poseidon was his strength and hair color.
Then a daughter came, to whom I named Rhodos. I feared what Poseidon may do to a daughter of our own - which God's he would attempt to pawn her off to.
But she held a fire in her that he had burnt out within me long ago. Rhodos took charge of her love and future, and found happiness and love in Helios, the Sun God. When Aphrodite had cursed him to forget all of his lovers, including her, it was the first time I found myself marching up to her in rage.
And I punched the Goddess of Beauty.
I feared her retaliation, but instead, the Goddess laughed and smiled upon me. “Finally, someone who refuses to take my shit.”
We became great friends after she reversed the curse and Helios spent many centuries honoring my daughter.
But after my children made it clear that they now had their own lives, I was back to square one. I would spend days watching Poseidon drive his ego so far up his ass that he'd be grinning like he created the universe. Centuries seemed to be slow as I stopped fighting him, and became. . .lifeless.
I missed my family.
I missed the ocean.
But I was reminded that I'm not just Poseidon's wife. I'm a daughter of Nereus, and the third of fifty Nereids who created mermaids and sirens. We are shapeshifters and in the myths and legends for assisting sailors in their journeys across the ocean.
My son created Atlantis. He was proud of his kingdom, and was so delighted to show it to me. He had learnt from seeing his father that no one should rule a Kingdom on their own, but he elected a council to help him truly learn how to be a good ruler.
And he had children.
The Tritonides, similar to my sister's. Never once did a son come from his wife but he did not mind at all. I watched with pride as my son adored his daughters and doted on his wife, despite the lack of assistance and care from Poseidon.
Yet I could not stay in this kingdom.
For Poseidon commanded I return home.
For the next eight hundred years, I stayed in Olympus and found myself slipping again.
He was never faithful.
He was never kind.
He was cruel.
But he's a God.
And I can never be free of him.
I would only hear the news that my son's lineage had no longer been on the throne through Poseidon - who bragged about such a thing. He declared that a merman who had slain King Nero and Queen Athena had taken the crown because of corruption, and laughed.
Not only had our son's bloodline been slain, but his father dared to laugh.
I know I stand no chance in fighting him, but he was our son - our baby boy. So just as I had done to Aphrodite, I had punched him in the face and watched as his eyes turned sinister.
He hit me.
He didn't stop hitting me.
My eyes stared up at him as he prepared to take me, “you think this makes you a man? In all our years together, I have seen you as less than a spoiled boy. How disappointed our son would be if he could see this view.”
He left me with his limp excuse of a cock and I allowed my body to heal through the ocean water.
I had even hoped I would be able to drown.
But as the Queen Mother of the Seven Seas, I prepared myself. The puffy eyes and the bruises vanished as quickly as they appeared, and let Atlantis prepare themselves for their guest.
A permanent guest.
Taglist: @nanamiscunt @illegalcerebral @notasadgirlipromise @cozmicwonder
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moonmaiden1996 · 2 years
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Claiming his Queen Part 3
Honestly, guys, I cannot thank you enough; your comments have helped so much. I have tried to tag everyone who asked, but I have had so many I might have missed a few, and I have had so issues finding people so apologies. Love you all! Comment if you love!
Warnings- Kidnap, dark love, possessive love 
Part 1
Part 2
Morpheus stared coldly at the girl sleeping dreamlessly, wrapped in the softness of the sheets and pillows. He had moulded them from the clouds in the sky and the fresh snow in the mountains still untouched by man, providing her with every comfort you could desire. Now she was peaceful and still, content against the rich colour of the material. It suited her skin, he mused and wondered if deep down he had chosen it because of how it made her look, like his goddess, his queen.
A threatening rumble made its way from the back of his throat to fill the room. Her wrist was now free from that atrocity that ripped her away. All he wanted to do was to make her feel good, make sure she was satisfied and happy while he cleared up the mess and restored the kingdom for her. He asked nothing of her, just a little taste., despite the gnawing hunger eating away at him from the inside. It would have been so easy to take her, yet he hadn't, and how did you repay him?
With betrayal.
'Master? What are you going to do to her?' Matthew crowed as he swooped down, setting majestically on the bedknob at the foot of the future queen.
'That is none of your concern.' His voice a barbed warning to his companion.
'I am just saying …she was terrified; she thought you were a demon; you can't blame her for trying to get away.' Matthew spoke, yet there was a caution to it, a hesitation that never flowed in his almost constant chatter.
'She should know my intention from our bond; she betrayed me.' His voice was a clear warning, but Matthew heard the weariness that weakened his low tone.
'Master…'
'Enough.' Morpheus did not raise his voice; he rarely ever did; it was the tone, a deep,fear-inducing menace of his voice. 'Watch over her; call me when she awakens.'
Morpheus had to escape. He had much to think about, a punishment to devise, and he could not dare to do it while he looked down at her. It made him want to forgive her, and he did not want that. It was a weakness that he would not indulge her in. He was the king, and any weakness to him was a weakness to the kingdom and a threat to her. As much as it pained him, her punishment was for her safety.
A familiar nudge pulled him from his musings. A frown tugged at his pale pink mouth; his kingdom was not yet ready for visitors, its inhabitants had only half returned, and the place was still a hollow husk; he had wanted to let the future queen aid in its build, but that plan was seemingly impossible now.
Navigating through the corridors, he circled back to his throne room, where Lucienne loyally stood guard. Beating his sibling back with careful civility.
'What are you doing here uninvited?' Morpheus's low voice echoed across the chamber as he took his throne, ignoring the painfully empty seat he had carefully crafted next to him.
'Can't siblings check in on each other? I thought I was your favourite.’ Death smiled, stepping around his librarian, eyes roaming the deep darkness of the throne, lingering on the empty seat, eyes accusing. ‘New throne?’
‘State your business, sister. Then leave.’
‘Do we really have to do this, brother?’ Death's voice had lost its cheery lilt and was replaced by annoyance and anger. 'There are rules about taking a human. You should know that, we have often dealt with Desire’s… inclination towards human playmates. If they are here too long, they cannot function on their return to the real world, and you cannot keep a human here.’
Morpheus observed his sister before he spoke, 'There are, but none that state a soulmate should not be permitted to reside in my kingdom. They are protected.’
'Morpheus, you can do better than that. It would help if you took some pointers from Desire and at least make it believable. I know you were locked away for a century, you're lonely, but we are endless; we don’t get a soulmate.’ The pity in her voice stung more than her anger.
True, they were endless, yet on his hand was all the evidence that he needed to know it was true. The skin of the mark was inflamed and sensitive, flesh that shifted and shivered beneath his skin. His was different from his loves. Her brand was his sigil, the helm finely engraved through her palm and up her arm,  staking his ownership, yet his was still forming; he wondered what would come to rest on his skin for all to see for eternity.
‘Your joking.’ For all the thousands of years they had been together, he never thought to have seen her ebony skin twist in such a shocked expression.
'Have you ever known me to joke?'
Dark eyes fell on his raw palm. Horror followed to awe, then fear, before transforming again into wonder. 'You're serious. Who? How?'
'It is none of your concern. She is safe in my kingdom till the time our bond can be completed. Now I will ask you to leave. I have much to attend to.’
‘You can’t be this much of a dick, Dream! You will need my help. Firstly, kidnapping a human is much more complicated in this period than when we last had to deal with Desire’s bullshit, trust me. Secondly, you are the first ever Endless to find a soulmate; you don’t even know how to complete the bond. And thirdly, she will have my protection….’ There was his big sister, he remembered, that bossy voice that demanded and pushed till she got what she wanted.
'No,' Morpheus hissed lowly through gritted teeth, body taut.
Death’s eyes softened as she stepped forward, her dark clothes billowing behind her as she ascended the steps to the throne, hand raised, her voice becoming unbearably soft as she spoke, 'Show me….'
Silver eyes whirled madly as he watched tensely as, step by step, she edged closer. His gaze trained on the impeccable neat fingertips that reached out, waiting to probe his mark, her mark. To search every itch it, a place meant to be touched by her. And no one else.
'Begone!’
With a furious roar, the room swirled and pulsed. Death deadpan up at her baby brother as the room shifted and rippled from its place. The room's fabric reached out and wrapped itself around Death's ebony arms, pulling her away and down,  shoving her through the floor and into the void below.
‘My lord, forgive me but did you just throw Death out of the Dreaming?’ the librarian questioned, straightening her glasses.
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
You were sure you were losing your mind as you stared at the talking bird. That statement alone was evidence enough that you had already lost your mind. The raven, or Matthew, as he introduced himself, fretted as you tore through the hallway, feebly trying to explain where you were and why you were.
‘So I am supposed to believe everything your say; you’re his fucking familiar.’
‘I am not a familiar! And for the last time, he is not a demon. And for all our sakes, do not let him hear you say that; he doesn’t get on with those things. He is Morpheus, King of this realm and Lord of Dreams, your soulmate.’
‘You expect me to believe that.’ You spat.
‘Well, you do have his mark.’
Your face twisted in a sour expression, but he continued, ‘see that mark… that's his sigil, the helm. It's a soul brand, intertwining you two lovers. I bet it's feeling a lot better now. Because no offence before, you looked like shit. Now you look normal.’
You peer down at your arm. In your fear and terror, you noticed the distinct absence of the burn and that dull ache that numbed you. You realised you felt better, better than you had felt in a long time. The mark even looked less angry; the thick, jagged lines were smoother, and the furious red was now a rosy pink. If the bird is fucking right, you were more screwed than you thought.
‘He told you this?’
The bird hopped a little closer, beady black orbs staring at you. ‘Well, no…Morpheus isn’t a big talker. I pieced it together.’ The bird sounded smug, its feathers puffing out with pride.
‘Well, if that is true, kidnapping me is not how you go about it.’ You snapped as you turned, marching through the seemingly endless hallway.
‘How would you ‘go about it’?’ the bird questioned from above you as it glided effortlessly through the air.
‘I dunno…flowers’, you grunted, trying every door you passed. Hissing, one by one, they refused to open. Why the fuck wouldn’t anything work?
‘Yeah, see, I haven’t been with him that long, but I am pretty sure that’s not how he rolls.’ The bird snipped.
You had to get stuck with an arsehole bird; it just rounded everything off perfectly.‘You are one of his creations, aren’t you? Shouldn’t you know ‘how he rolls?’
‘Not really; it's a funny story. I used to be human then; my wife's uncle did some shady supernatural shit, and my organs were stolen. It was this whole thing…. It doesn’t matter. What matters is you getting back in your room before Morpheus gets pissed?’ Matthew stonily  retorted as his wings effortlessly gave the last flap before coming into land in front of her.‘Look, I know you're scared, I am with you on that front, but can you get your shit together for 5 minutes and examine the facts before tall dark and your fucking soulmate finds you missing….. too late’ he sighed.
You scrunched up your features as you looked at the sassy bird. Then you felt it, the sensation of flying. The sensation only lasted seconds before your saw those frightening, beautiful eyes; the grey was almost completely eroded by black till only thin flickers of silver remained. His movements were fast; his body pressed close to yours. Large hands roamed your body, tugging harshly against the fabric of your nightwear, trying to get to some warm flesh. Before you could comprehend what was happening, his mouth pressed firmly over yours, mouth goading, tongue teasing. It was needy and demanding, his hands seeking assurance that you were still there. Fingertips grazed the raised flesh on your arms, sending your body into a frenzy of convulsions. You felt everything, every nerve, every impulse, every feeling.
It was too much. It was so intense your thought your whole body was alight.
With an almighty shove, you pushed Morpheus away. He barely moved, but the small distance gave you room to burrow into the safety of a corner. The hallway was now a dead end with no means of escaping the panting mess that was your captive. Only you could be kidnapped by a man who stole you away to a realm where only he had complete control.
There was a sadness in him. You had felt that, but there was a dark and consuming possession that terrified you.
'I…can’t… this is too much…I want to…need to leave.’ You panted under his dark eyes.
Morpheus was still hunched over, his slim body trembling under your gaze. He almost reminded you of how a leopard looked seconds before it pounced.
‘You are mine! I have endured eternity alone, been rejected and cast aside, but my own soulmate will not reject me. If you are not happy in the dreaming, maybe you would prefer somewhere a little less comfortable.’
Tears pricked your vision as sand spilt from his palm, pulling you into darkness.
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How was that? I am on a roll!
Sooooo any idea where he has thrown her? I will give you a clue it is not in hell; I think they have a limit on how many spurned lovers you can hold at one time.
Also, for the attention for all the Dark!Morpheus lovers, would you like to read a one-shot Morpheus dark fic featuring corruption, forced marriage with a massive helping of smut, and maybe some breeding kink thrown in for extra measure….. what do you think? Let me know below.
@daydreamin1220 @jesllianaquilesrolon @ultimatreality @musemaniac42 @duhitzdae  @songbirdcannabe @wt-fxckk @quillycrow @lemontails-blog @zafirina12 @alastorhazbin @witchybitch @thegreatestsandwich @buckys-pillow @sunscreenfeverdream @lu123sworld @asianfrustration13 @leighs-posts @elraeeee @intothesoul @sparklinglilac @lustreader69 @thraetor @fate-huntress @itshamleth @beautifulsoulsublime @bookohocolicsstuff
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conceptualkaleb · 3 months
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"Now Watch Me As I Take My Throne And Rule My Kingdom"
He Did It.
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lordoftherazzles · 1 year
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BODYGUARD AU ↳ GOLDEN HEARTS BLEED FASTER
Summary: Bilbo Baggins, Prince of the Shire, has been left with a kingdom on his back and a ring in his hand after the unexpected death of his parents. Bodyguard Thorin Oakenshield has been brought in to see to the prince’s safety, and do a little investigating of his own on the matter in hopes of coming face to face with the one who turned his mountain, and his life, upside down a few years prior.
If you want to see this fic in the future, be sure to like, reblog, and/or comment!
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How many times now had Bilbo warded off the waves of sympathies and condolences? It was all the same from each person, just a different face and voice conveying the genuinely kind words. He didn’t want to hear it anymore.
While his eyes had remained dry and his emotions in check, the day surrounding him had been anything but. The outside drizzle and gloomy clouds had set a damn near perfect tone for a funeral, and yet Bilbo never once seemed to fit the backdrop, aside from maybe his attire. The dark fitting garb that was quickly being shed at this exact moment once the funeral had come to a close, and he was escorted back to the palace entryway.
“I’m fine,” Bilbo protested once more, and this time with more force to his voice than he liked. “You don’t need to worry about me, I can take care of myself. I don’t see why everyone is making such a fuss about all of this.” Gandalf wasn’t the first person nipping at his heels in regard to his safety, or his behavior, but he was the one who had stuck around the longest.
“Belladonna and Bungo Baggins’ death is nothing to take lightly, Bilbo,” Gandalf chided, his brows furrowing and the lines on his face seeming extra deep with his displeasure. “You will do well to remember that.”
“I’m not making light, but I’m also not going to obsess over something that’s not there. It was ruled an accident, and that’s what I choose to believe,” Bilbo huffed while sliding out of his suit jacket and shaking off the rain water. He knew Gandalf meant well, after all, he had been one of the closest friends this family had. Naturally he would keep an eye out for the head of the Baggins household, and next in line for the throne. “Everything will be fine. If…a little quiet.”
“Insist all you like, but I am still under the impression that you need someone to watch over you–” holding up a hand to silence the younger man before he ever protested again, Gandalf cleared his throat and began to backpedal towards the doorway. “I’ve already taken the liberty of making some arrangements. Your parents wanted me to look out for you, and I can’t be here every waking moment to ensure you don’t do something silly.”
Watching with disinterest as Gandalf waved his hand to beckon someone forward, Bilbo quirked a brow and folded his arms, tapping his foot in annoyance. “So what, you hired me a babysitter? I’m an adult, and besides, this place already has security out the ass. What’s so special about–” The words clogged Bilbo’s throat, and his jaw snapped firmly shut as a suit-clad man with the bluest eyes he’d ever seen stepped in. There wasn’t an ounce of emotion on his face as he stood next to Gandalf with his hands behind his back. Bilbo just took a moment to let it all soak in as his own stance seemed to relax.
“Humor an old man, Bilbo, and let him watch over you for a time. I would be beside myself if something happened to you,” Gandalf pleaded with a pained smile gracing his lips, stepping aside to usher Bilbo forward–not that the young prince needed any direction.
“I mean, what’s the harm?” Bilbo shrugged as he had stepped forward, leaning on his toes before beginning to slowly circle the taller man whose eyes had locked onto him at some point. “If only to humor an old man, of course.” Letting his eyes rove over that suit and every inch the seams hugged, there was something delightfully delicious in this arrangement Gandalf was making, wasn’t there? “So, this is my bodyguard, then?”
“Far better than a glorified babysitter, I assure you.”
Humming and nodding in agreement with Gandalf’s words, Bilbo finally came to a halt in front of Mister Blue-Eyes, tilting his head and tapping at the side of his chin in thought with one more drop of his gaze as a smirk crawled across his lips. “I like what I see.” Meeting those blue eyes, there was something undeniably furious within them, just as there was a soft dusting of rose across the other’s cheekbones. It didn’t negate the danger in those blues, and Bilbo had an itch to play with a little fire today.
Okay, maybe Gandalf’s worries about silly behavior weren’t completely unwarranted.
Gandalf chuckled, bringing no attention to Bilbo’s current behavior in ogling his newfound source of safety. “He is experienced in this line of work, and can probably teach you a thing or two about what to expect once you’re crowned.”
“And does he have a name? Or speak, for that matter? Or is this one of those ‘pretend he’s not there’ cases, much like a shadow?” Reaching a hand up to straighten out the other’s tie, a hand quickly grasped at Bilbo’s wrist, and tightly. “I have a feeling you bite.”
“Thorin,” came the hissed word from between the teeth of one Thorin Oakenshield as he shoved Bilbo’s hand away. “And it’ll be in your best interest to keep your hands to yourself, Mister Baggins.”
“Not very polite, is he?” Bilbo snorted, rubbing at his wrist and taking a step back to give this Thorin some space. “You can take it easy, Killer, I’m just teasing you.”
“I’m sure you’ll find him suitable company, don’t worry.” Gandalf’s eyes locked with Thorin’s with a bit of a plea in them, and much to his relief, Thorin’s shoulders relaxed a little. “Mister Oakenshield here is your protection, and I advise you treat him as such.”
“Of course, you wouldn’t set me up with a deadbeat plaything, after all.” Bowing his head slightly, and putting on a little more decorum, Bilbo simply smiled, pushing up the glasses on his nose once he rose back. “I look forward to getting to know you, Mister Oakenshield. Would you like a tour of the place?”
“Not really–”
“Give us a moment, Bilbo, and then I’m sure Thorin would love the tour.” Grinning, Gandalf gave the universal shoo motion towards the prince in the room, who reluctantly shoved his hands in his pockets and began to drift to the farthest side of the entryway.
“You can’t honestly expect me to deal with this, Gandalf?” Thorin hissed under his breath, finally moving from his once stationary position to keep the conversation between him and the one who had brought him here. “I will not bend to the likes of him.”
“That–that was not the intent, Thorin, this is strictly business–”
“I meant business!” A more potent shade of red took over Thorin’s cheeks as he dared to cast a glance over his shoulder to the curly haired prince who was twirling some sort of gold band between his fingers aimlessly. “Surely this has to be a mistake?”
“Belladonna and Bungo Baggins’ deaths were no accident, I am sure of it. I fear for him, Thorin, someone went through an awful lot of trouble to put him in this situation. I have theories…and if they are correct, this is one you will want to be a part of,” Gandalf assured lowly, clapping Thorin on the shoulder. “You know as well as I do that precious treasure can make a man do unthinkable things.”
This caused Thorin to pause, his eyes dropping and a falter in his stance as he shifted uncomfortably. The wheels in his head were grinding in agitation, but also in memory of what he himself had witnessed in his years. “Do you truly think he is involved?” The one that Thorin had been after for years now, but never gotten a chance to come face to face with.
“I do. This wouldn’t be the first royal family he’s laid waste to, would it? I owe not only the Baggins family to figure this out, but to yo–”
“Fine. I’ll deal with it, for now,” Thorin interrupted.
“Give it some time, I promise he isn’t nearly as impish once you get to know him. His mother was once a fierce young thing too.” Gazing over at Bilbo and sporting a more cheerful expression, Gandalf gave Thorin’s shoulder a gentle nudge. “You two get acquainted, I am going to step outside for a quick call and will rejoin you later. And Thorin?” Dropping his tone low for the retreating Oakenshield to hear only, Gandalf’s chipper demeanor washed away as quickly as it had come. “Let’s keep the details of this between us for now.”
Nodding in understanding, Thorin braced himself as he stepped up to the young royal–perhaps only a few years his junior–who was waiting for his company in what looked like anticipation. “Mister Baggins.”
“Come, I’ll show you around, and we’ll find you a place to stay for when you don’t have your eyes glued to me at all hours of the day.” A cheeky grin spread across Bilbo’s lips as he nudged his elbow into Thorin’s. “Unless you want to keep your eyes on me at night–” a flash of Thorin’s fierce glare had Bilbo raising his hands in surrender. “Just teasing, remember.” Bilbo’s sing-song voice sounded off teasingly. Or was he? Definitely not. If it kept Thorin from snapping his jaw like a rabid dog in his direction, then Bilbo could insist he was just teasing until his parents crawled out of their respective graves.
This was going to be fun, Bilbo could tell already. Normally he was used to getting his way, what with his status and all as Prince of the Shire, but this suited man seemed unmoved, though not completely unaffected. That was the fun part, witnessing the discomfort and the flushing beneath his scrutiny. But if it helped soothe a few of Gandalf’s frayed nerves in the process as well…what was the harm? It’d been a long time since someone new graced Bag End’s palace walls and given Bilbo something else to focus on.
Something that wasn’t wrapped around the tragedy that was the deaths of his parents and the precious treasure they left behind.
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fragolar · 1 month
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Secrets of the Forgotten Realm || Geralt Of Rivia - The Witcher
Greetings, It's been a while, specifically more than a year. My fixation for Geralt of Rivia has been re-awakened. And no. Before you ask, I will not watch the fourth season. I didn't even watch the second, since I come from the videogames and books. I'll try to make this a series, but also each chapter would be conclusive on it's own for those who like stand alones.
Summary: As Geralt continues his search for Ciri, he finds himself drawn to the secluded Amell Mountains, rumored to house a kingdom unknown to most. Guided by tales from Jaskier, Geralt ventures to the remote ruins of the mountains, where he encounters the enigmatic Princess Lexa Mor'wena, secret daughter to the absent King Ardan Mor'wena, who's on an expedition. As Geralt's curiosity is piqued by the mysterious princess, he embarks on an unexpected journey, his path becoming intertwined with Lexa's in ways he never imagined.
/mɔːrˈwɛnə/
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Every step felt like a stab in the ribcage. Amidst the thick, intense mist, the Witcher finally understood why no one ever attempted to search for the lost kingdom. It was intense, the path uneven, long. The humidity making it hard to properly breathe.
Which, after all, wasn’t so lost. Simply hidden, enclosed by rough bark and dense leaves that deprived it of light.
Fatigue weighed heavily on his shoulders, his feet ached, and his mare was restless.
“What's wrong, Roach? Are you tired?” he asked. She snorted, clearly not amused by this journey. “Alright, alright. We’ll stop for a bit... Look, there’s a spring nearby. You’re thirsty, aren’t you?” His hand went to stroke her muzzle.
Once they settled down to rest, sleep began to take over; Geralt was exhausted. And so they spent the night, lighting a small fire, eating the little food they had left from hunting, and finally falling asleep in the middle of the forest.
Grave mistake. Upon awakening, Geralt's eyes weren't greeted by the now familiar leaves but to cement. Alertness jolted through his body, making him spring from the floor to dissipate the confusion. He was in a cell - a quite claustrophobic one, too. "Oh, the White Head is awake." A disinterested mumble reached Geralt's ears, making his eyes dart to the source. A guard stared at him, amused, before speaking again. "Hey, White Bunny, what's your business up in the woods? Don't you know scary wolves roam around? You're lucky that we found you before they did." Geralt scoffed, shaking his head slowly. "I wouldn't worry about a couple of wolves who bark." The guard frowned but quickly recomposed himself. "I asked you why you are here. Don't make me repeat myself a third time." "What would happen if I did?" Geralt was amused, no denying that. "Important personal matters, I'm searching for a girl." "Girl? The Princess?" Geralt raised an eyebrow, his thoughts briefly drifting to Ciri. Did they know her? "I'm looking for someone," he clarified, hoping to avoid more suspicion. "What's your matter with the Princess? How do you know about her?" The guard pressed. "No harm. Let me see her, and I'll go. King Ardan wouldn't treat an old acquaintance this way." The guard's expression grew increasingly perplexed. From his perspective, not only did this stranger know about Princess Lexa Mor'wena, but he also claimed familarity with King Ardan. Panic began to set in as the guard realized he might have severely mishandled the situation. If the King learned how badly he had treated a known guest, he would be in deep trouble.
"You must be the White Wolf my men found sleeping in the forest with his horse." The woman spoke calmly, seated on her throne. Geralt was kneeling in front of her, feeling a mix of disappointment and surprise. King Ardan had a secret daughter, a Princess unknown to the outside world. This explained why the King could leave his Kingdom for extended periods without fear of attack. There was always someone to rule in his absence. And Ciri was nowhere to be seen. "Are you perhaps the Butcher of Blaviken?" Geralt's head lifted up, not expecting to hear such an old name. Upon his expression, the Princess continued. "I’ll take your silence as an affirmation. I have never seen a Witcher before, let alone the Butcher-"
"Princess Mor’wena, I’d rather be called Geralt of Rivia."
She smiled amused, resting her cheek on her palm as she leaned on the throne armrest. "My guard said you were searching for me. How did you even know?"
"It’s a different kind of a princess, I’m searching for. I didn’t know about the King having such a pleasant surprise, however. I’m not complaining."
"Pretty words won’t get you anywhere Geralt. Are you talking about the promised child?" How much did she know? And why didn’t Geralt know anything? "I’m getting tired of your loud silence. Let us discuss after having lunch. You probably are starving."
Geralt rose from his kneeling position, his expression remaining neutral, then he gave a slight nod in acknowledgment. "I appreciate your hospitality, Princess," he said, his voice husky. "I have many questions, and I'm sure you do too. Lunch sounds like a good place to start."
As they walked to the dining area, Geralt remained observant, his sharp eyes taking in the surroundings and the demeanor of those around him. He kept a polite distance, his movements measured, showing respect but also an underlying readiness for any potential threat.
After a moment of silence and finally seated while attending their food, he asked, "What do you know of the promised child?" His tone was curious but cautious, seeking to gather information without revealing too much of his own vulnerabilities.
"Not much. My Father had told me about your unfortunate accident." Lexa looked at him. "I guess you learnt how to stay silent during the years."
Geralt was weirdly amused by how pungent she was, just like her father, but she was much more unfiltered. She seemed to not care how strong he truly is, or how impacted she could be from the way she spoke to him.
A spoiled child with a gold crown on her head. Geralt smirked to himself. "What's her name?" "Cirilla." "A nice name." Lexa began to drift off topic. "Did you choose it?" "She's not my child-" "Not biologically and yet..." "Princess, careful." His voice growly, warning her. A shiver of excitment running down her spine. "I may appear friendly, but I'm not here for fun."
"So the White Wolf would try to bite?" Lexa provoked. "He'd devour." His yellow eyes looked at her, knowing well what she was doing. And she looked quite pleased with his threats, something promising behind those words. Next part.
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asherbakugou · 3 months
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The Deal of Gods and Humans
Prince Laenor of House Velaryon sat in a plush velvet chair within his wife's small study, sipping sour Arbor Gold from a golden chalice in silence as he watched Crown Princess Rhaenyra of House Targaryen stare out the window of her study. The light highlighted the features of her youth, reminding him of the heavy burden that had been placed upon his shoulders and was now shared between them. She was a little girl, still, with the weight of a Kingdom upon her shoulders and yet she stood with the strength of a dragon against the lit towers aiming to bring her crashing down.
"I'm sorry," Laenor murmured, tearing his wife from her thoughts. "If only the Gods had not made like this. If only they had made me like my father or Prince Daemon then maybe–"
"Stay your tongue!" Rhaenyra ordered, sharply. She whirled around, pale grey skirts swirling along her legs as she stalked towards him. "Had the Gods not made you this way then I would never have agreed to this marriage, no matter that my inheritance would be stripped away. I agreed to take you as my husband because I can trust you within this nest of vipers my home has become. You are my husband and my future King Consort, the man who shall aid my rule and support me."
Laenor gave a bitter, self-deprecating laugh, "I am the husband that cannot give his wife heirs. The man that cannot see a woman for the beauty she is, and feels no lust for the pleasures others speak of."
"We shall figure something out. It will just take time."
"What if you took a paramour? He could give you children that I could claim as mine. They would be mine in name and that is all that matters."
"And if they resembled any but me? Or you? They would be called bastards even if they were an exact copy of Rodrick Arryn or Jocelyn Baratheon as long as they did not have the Valyrian coloring. The Queen and her supporters would make our lives a living hell if she even had an inkling that they were bastards. Even now, she seeks to undermine me."
"I thought the wedding was her only move," Laenor stated, sitting up. Worry shone in his grey-purple eyes. They might not be in love as other matches were but they were partners.
"No. Every day she gathers the Ladies of the Keep for tea and speaks behind my back, spreading rumors of my virtue, of your taste in men, of how I am a heathen whore unfit to be the Heir to the Iron Throne," Rhaenyra sneered, sitting down in the weirwood chair behind her desk. A present from Lady Jeyne Arryn and Lady Amanda Arryn for her wedding.
"She dares speak ill of the Crown Princess? And none stop her or bring her words to the King or you, yourself?"
"Why would they? Each of them come from the Reach or Westerlands, supporters of her son as Heir and future King."
"Then we must dispel the rumors," Laenor stated, reaching into his doublet. He pulled out a letter, setting it on the desk between them. "My dear Laena has sent us a letter. She reminds me of the tales my father used to tell us before bed. Of Sea Serpents, Giants, Gods . . . and Demigods."
"Demigods?" Rhaenyra whispered, remembering the tales Daemon had once told her. "Children of both God and Man. What do those tales have to do with our problems?"
"For years we have hid how we worship the Fourteen Flames, let those of the Seven deem our culture as heathenistic and disrespectful. I believe she means for us to seek out our true Gods and ask for their help."
"They are Gods, Laenor. What could we possibly give them in return for three children?"
"Anything they wish. Rhaenyra if you wish to be Queen this might be our only option. We need trueborn heirs and who better than the Gods that shaped us and gave us dragons?"
"The same Gods who allowed hundreds of thousands of people be wiped by the Doom. The ones who allow us to be ridiculed and shamed even as Kings, Queens, and Heirs of Valyrian Houses. The only ones left of Old Valyria, might I add," Rhaenyra snapped, glaring.
Laenor did not let her flames deter him. "And what other option do we have? Let Prince Aegon be named Heir because you have no children to rule after you?"
Rhaenyra snarled, teeth baring as Syrax sang within her soul, black teeth bared as flamed gathered in her chest. "Watch yourself husband. I could take that as treason."
"But I speak the truth," Laenor stated, Seasmoke humming in the back of his mind, tail swishing across the dusty ground of his cave. "You said we would need trueborn children and I have given you a suggestion. It is either this, your give birth to bastards after taking a paranour, or remain childless and have your titles taken. Take your pick, wife."
Charged silence fell within the study as the two dragons stared each other down. Eventually, Rhaenyra acquiesced.
"Fine. In two days time we travel to Dragonstone. We will call it a honeymoon of sorts, as if we seek alone time for . . . things. The Temple of the Fourteen will hear our prayers and we shall see if the Gods will answer."
"Then it is decided."
—Temple of the Fourteen—
The Temple of the Fourteen was almost hidden behind Castle Dragonstone, even with how large it was. The rotunda had 14 stained glass windows, each displaying the symbol of one of the 14 Gods or Godesses sitting above the corrosponding statue. Made entirely out of black dragonglass with runes carved in and filled with Valyrian steel, the Temple was truly of Valyrian make and ancestry.
Over the two days planning their week long trip to the Isle of Dragonstone, they had argued over which statue to pray too, eventually agreeing upon the Goddess Meleys. She ruled over fertility, love, sexuality, mothers, and childbirth, so they had come to the realization that she would be a better fit than Arrax or Aegerax.
"It's beautiful," Laenor murmured, High Valyrian rolling of his tongue with an Essosi lilt that Lord Corlys and his sister both had. It brought a heat to Rhaenyra whenever she heard it even if she preffered how it sounded when Daemon spoke.
"It is." Rhaenyra and Laenor came to a stop before the white dragonglass statue of Meleys. Stood in a patch of dirt, a large myrtle tree had grown alongside her, manipulated to lean over her seemingly sheltering the Goddess who wore a floor length dress with long slits up the side leaving her most of her legs and bare feet exposed.
Held in her left hand was a mirror, as pearls draped across the exposed cut of her shoulders while long sleeves fell around her forearms. Perched upon her shoulder was a dove while a peacock stood at her side, long beautifull feathers carved and painted in detail.
"Do you remember the prayer?" Laenor asked as they both stared up into the gentle features carved into the statue.
"I have not had the time to forget it," Rhaenyra murmured dryly, unsure of if she should speak normally. Together they kneeled, bowing before the Goddess' statue.
"O' Meleys, O' Queen of the Gods, Goddess of Love, Goddess of Fertility, Goddess of Motherhood, Goddess of Childbirth, we seek your aid. As Heir to the Iron Throne and Heir to Driftmark, we ask you to provide us with heirs and a spare. To allow us to further our bloodlines, O' Queen of the Gods. Name a price and we shall pay it for three children borne of our blood."
The pyre that stood to her right suddenly lit with pale pink-whire fire, startling both of them. So focused they were, neither saw the statue move until she spoke, voice soft but firm, loving and kind.
"Greetings, Princess Rhaenyra, Chosen Heir. Greetings, Prince Laenor, Chosen Guardian. I have been awaiting your call for many moons."
Neither could find it within themselves to speak, staring at the talking statue with awe and fear in equal parts.
"Be not afraid. Your call has been anticipated and awaited eagerly." Her soft look melted to something sharp and protective. "The Promised Heir shall come from your blood, Rhaenyra, but due to your father's folly, in one line of fate they fall and the world is taken in the Long Night. No one is left, no dragons, no people, no wildlings. Only wights. To make sure this never comes to pass We, the Fourteen Flames, the Seven-Who-Are-One, and the Elder Gods have decided to intervene. We have decided to interfere with fate itself to make sure our favored survive and fight back the Long Night."
"Us? But my father said– when he told me of the prophecy . . ."
"Tessarion gave the prophecy to Aegon in the hopes that he would unite Westeros to prepare them for the Long Night. But after making them kneel he in turn kneeled for the Seven-Who-Are-One who have no control over any family of Valyrian Blood. We are not the only the ones that have been disrespected or forgotten.
"The supposed followers of the Seven have perverted and twisted the words of the Seven-Who-Are-One to fit their agendas, destroying the faith that once was. The Elder Gods are slowly being forgotten as we are, and with fewer and fewer worshipping us, we are dying."
"Dying?" Laenor asked, horrified. Every story ever told spoke of how a God could not be killed.
"Not in the way you understand but yes. Magic is being forcibly taken from your world, one of the few weapons that would secure your future. But we believe we have a way for this world to survive. Do you accept the responsibility, Rhaenyra Targaryen, Laenor Velaryon?"
They both hesitated, but looking upon her face, one that looked similar to Aemma's in Rhaenyra's eyes and one that looked sinilar to Rhaenys' for Laenor and they made their decision.
"We accept this responsibility, My Queen."
She smiled softly.
"From us you will be given 14 children, born of each of us with our favor to save the Targaryen, Velaryon, Celtigar, and Stark lines. The Seven-Who-Are-One and the Elder Gods have decided that their gifts will be given in secret to aid you. But I have another gift to offer you." Meleys' smile grew wider. "Would you like to hear the names of your children and who they are the child of?"
"Yes! Please, My Queen," Rhaenyra added, blushing fiercly at the outburst. While afraid to have so many children, a part of her was curious to know her future.
"The First. Son of Arrax, King of the Gods, Jacaerys Targaryen."
"The Second. Daughter of Tyraxes, Goddess of Peace. Alyssa Velaryon."
"The Third. Son of Caraxes, God of the Seas. Lucerys Velaryon."
"The Fourth. Son of Vhagar, Goddess of War. Maegor Velaryon."
"The Fifth. Daughter of Vermax, God of Travel. Visenya Velaryon."
"The Sixth. Son of Aegerax, God of Creation. Aerion Velaryon."
"The Seventh. Daughter of Tessarion, Goddess of Dreams. Daenys Velaryon."
"The Eighth. Daughter of myself, Goddess of Love. Aemma Velaryon."
"The Ninth. Son of Syrax, Goddess of Chaos. Saeryn Velaryon."
"The Tenth. Daughter of Meraxes, Goddess of the Sky. Rhaella Velaryon."
"The Eleventh. Son of Gaelithox, God of the Sun. Aegon Velaryon."
"The Twelfth. Son of Vermithor, God of Smiths. Aemon Velaryon."
"The Thirteenth. Daughter of Shrykos, Goddess of Beginnings. Valaena Velaryon."
"The Fourteenth. Son of Balerion, God of the Underworld. Baelon Velaryon."
"Tonight Tessarion shall visit you to give you the instructions on how to allow us to give you children. Be ready. Good luck."
The statue straightened back into her precious position and fell still, allowing complete silence to fall within the Temple.
"Well," Laenor began, mumbling. "I believe we should head to the Keep, should we not? A drink or two might help."
"I agree." With that the two retreated back to the castle to talk about what had just happened, and drink enough wine to help settle their nerves before Tessarion came to visit.
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anjelicawrites · 9 months
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The winner takes it all
Chapter II (previous)
Paring: Aemond Targaryen x reader
Synopsis: inspired by the Æthelflæd and Erik's storyline in The Last Kingdom. Might be spoilerish if you haven't seen it (go watch it!!!), even though I've just stolen the inspiration and went on with the story my way.
Warnings: Canon compliant violence, attempted rape, reader’s husband being a piece of shit, family annihilation.
A/N: reader is AFAB, they/them pronouns are used (they are called “lady” and “daughter of the North”). The only descriptor is that they have long hair
A/N 1: this is an AU. Look at me taking the canon story of Westeros and yell “Parkhour!” as I jump out of the window clutching it in my hands.
18+ only, tank you!
As the only offspring, and heir, of your Lord father, you had to study history, had to learn from the trials and mistakes of your ancestors, and one idea had always remained in your brain: the once free people of the Seven Kingdoms should have annihilate the first Targaryens the moment they set foot to Dragonstone, to stay. The looming danger of their dragons should have been enough to act, yet the once kings did nothing, waiting while Old Valyria was destroyed, while curious stories of disappearing babies kept sprouting everywhere, as white haired children appeared on that cursed place, while the Valyrians started inserting in each and every city and village, like a disease.
Nothing seemed to be the right reason for the kings to unite against the common enemy, and when Aegon I and his sister wives invaded, it was too late to act. Like tiles, every Kingdom fell under Targaryen dominion and their demented dream to recreate their lost home.
The North stood up once, against the peaceful colonization of Valyrian families and then with weapons and with the long, cold winters that nobody seemed able to withstand, but you children of the North. Your people did it, despite not having a ruling House, the power divided between the Starks, your House and your Lord husband’s: in spite of a marked destiny, the newborn Kingdom of North Valyria had to sign a peace treaty with the North, effectively stopping any more conquering attempt. For how long, though?
It is no secret that New Valyria wants to annex the North, the Targaryen trying many times to marry into one of the Northerner Houses, failing; you know there had been talks of you marrying the second son, promptly curbed by your Lord father, who made you decide between Cregan Stark and the man who became your husband.
When king Viserys had remarried and started a second bloodline of sons, you were young, but you still remembered the sheer panic you could breathe in your household, the frantic discussions about the time when those children would be old enough to want a piece of land of their own.
It was common knowledge that the king favored his firstborn daughter Rhaenyra, to the point that he had made her heir to the throne, despite having a brother who could ascend, if anything ever happened to him. Only an idiot wouldn't consider his children from Alicent Hightower, Aegon II, Helaena and Aemond, nothing if not spares, in the case anything happened to her. He didn't do a thing when Prince Aemond lost an eye to his nephew and all the Houses of the North whispered in fear of what those young men would do, when of age.
It was a statement that Prince Aegon II and Princess Helaena were married and produced heirs, the bonding of Prince Aemond with the powerful Vhagar was an even stronger statement, followed as it was by the terrible and cruel stories about him.
Yet, everyone was surprised when the spare Princes decided to overthrow Rhaenyra, annihilating her and all of her offsprings from her two marriages and Prince Aegon II was crowned king. “Kinslayers - everyone whispered - if they didn't have pity for their own blood, what would stop them from dishonoring the peace treaty with the North?”
What’s stopping them, now? You asked yourself many many times, looking at your Lord husband and his idiotic dream to become the King in the North. Can’t he see that a civil war will weaken us, against our cumbersome neighbor? We never had a ruling House and now shouldn’t be the time to try and seize power! What will stop those young men from taking what they surely believe it’s theirs? Nothing did, and that's why you find yourself prisoner.
                                                              ***
Your life has taught you fear can be a never ending feeling, but boredom is almost worse than that. At home, at least, you had to organize the life of the palace, help the women prepare for the oncoming winter or summer, settle issues between the ladies at court; yes, you were always under the judging stare of your husband, always ready to remind you of your mistakes and uselessness, but at least your days were full, here in your cell the only thing you can do is stare at the brick wall and pace like a caged animal.
You know what the brothers are doing, taking their sweet time before sending an envoy to your husband, assuming that the longer the wait, the mellower he’ll be. You are not so sure about that: if your father were still alive, this would have worked with him, his love for you bigger than any political strategy. When it comes to your husband you wouldn’t bet a copper coin that he’d put your life above this war. Granted, he has to consider all the families connected to your House by a bond of loyalty: through marriage they have become his subject, but you know that many noblemen hold no trust for your husband, nor love and him not trying to rescue you would be ill considered, something that the one who wants to become King in the North can’t risk. If there is going to be a North to govern, you think with sadness.
For what little you had managed to see, the brothers are ruthless and burn with a fire impossible to quench, their army is already huge, with your ransom they’ll be able to buy more mercenaries, even from Essos, and they have two dragons. You know your people are strong, although you are aware of your numbers: how will the North protect its freedom, when it’s already dwarfed the way it is? You are happy both your mother and father are dead, they will not have to see the capitulation of their home.
You start pacing again, your brain incapable of coming up with a plan of escape. You know this castle, the brothers have chosen wisely a fortress no one could escape from. What unnerves you is that there’s always a great number of people around, even if you managed to leave your room, would you have the chance to disappear?
The door opens with a bang and you stay still, rooted on the spot as the brute with mismatched eyes enters, tray in hand. He stares at the uneaten food and spits on the ground
“Nothing is good enough for you, right?”
“What I find pleasing is not of your concern. You might leave and take the tray with you, I am not hungry” you say, staring at him with disdain
“You are not hungry, eh? - he advances angrily, hand on his belt - I’ll make sure you’ll be after I am done with you, whore!”.
He launches at you and you retreat to dash on the right, your hand going for the bucket at the foot of the bed. You hand curls around the handle; with a swift move you pull it over your head and down again, to start hitting the brute with it, savagely, on the face, deaf to the sound of his bones breaking, possessed by a rage that was a long time coming, until he falls on your bed and you snatch his small sword, ready to gut him with a primal scream.
Strong arms curl around your frame, forcing your body up in the air, away from your enemy and you scream your rage trying to wriggle out of the impossibly strong hold while guards pour in, taking the injured man with them
“Nobody moves” comes from behind you and you realize that’s Prince Aemond the one keeping you still.
You can see the men freeze on the spot, eyes on your captor and you. Even your attacker stares at the one eyed prince with fear in his swollen eyes
“They are not to be touched, have I made myself clear? They are worth every damned hair on their head” he says coldly and his men silently agree.
After they leave, Aemond deposits your feet on the ground. Delicately, but with a steely hand around your wrist, he forces you to surrender your stolen weapon. You stare at him pissed and he looks equally angry
“It won’t happen again” he says, lilac eye cold and you can’t stop staring
“It wouldn’t be the first time” you confess.
His only eye hardens even more and both his hands curl into tight fist
“Which one of my men?”
“No, none of them - you try to say calmly under his scrutinizing gaze - it happened before you kidnapped me”.
If it’s possible, his whole posture becomes even more tight, a flash of anger on his face he can barely hide.
“I have forgotten how good it feels when you can fight back”.
Unexpectedly this wins you a smile, not bright enough to see his teeth, but his feature softens with it, his eye a fraction warmer.
“My men tell me you refuse to eat”
“How am I supposed to feel hunger, when all I can see are those brick walls? I wish to bathe and to breathe some fresh air, that’s what I desire, not food”.
Prince Aemond stares at you, taking your form in as if he is evaluating something, a soft hmm escaping his shapely lips. You do look like you need a bath even though you managed to wash most of the grime off you.
“Will you eat if I manage to fulfill your wishes?” he says
“Will you?” you are incredulous
“On my honor” he says
“Then I will” and you try not to sound giddy but you feel a small smile on your lips.
Against all your expectations, Prince Aemond takes your hand and kisses it gently, like a nobleman in court would, before stiffly leaving you with your food.
You cradle your hand against your breasts, feeling a warmness that should have no space in your circumstances. It’s only after you have polished the plate, that you realize that Prince Aemond wasn’t wearing those tight braids and his hair were down his shoulders like waves of silk. What are you supposed to do with this information?
Everythig taglist: @hightowhxre
Aemond taglist: @phantoms-main-blog
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