#and that a guard says “THAT one's motherless” to her | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

horizon-verizon · 2 years ago

Text

Nettles’ Characterization and Gyldayn’s Writing

Some Quotes with Nettle’s Characterization Before Going to Maidenpool

In the end, the brown dragon was brought to heel by the cunning and persistence of a “small brown girl” of six-and-ten, who delivered him a freshly slaughtered sheep every morning, until Sheepstealer learned to accept and expect her. Munkun sets down the name of this unlikely dragonrider as Nettles. Mushroom tells us the girl was a bastard of uncertain birth called Netty, born to a dockside whore. By any name, she was black-haired, brown-eyed, brown-skinned, skinny, foul-mouthed, fearless…and the first and last rider of the dragon Sheepstealer.

(Fire and Blood; The Red Dragon and the Gold)

Mushroom [who was actually at Dragonstone at the time] tells us there were two men on Dragonstone that night who drank to the slaughter in a smoky tavern beneath the castle: the dragonriders Hugh the Hammer and Ulf the White, who had flown Vermithor and Silverwing into battle and lived to boast of it. “We are knights now, truly,” Hard Hugh declared. And Ulf laughed and said, “Fie on that. We should be lords.”

The girl Nettles did not share their celebrations. She had flown with the others, fought as bravely, burned and killed as they had, but her face was black with smoke and streaked with tears when she returned to Dragonstone. And Addam Velaryon, lately Addam of Hull, sought out the Sea Snake after the battle; what they spoke to each other even Mushroom does not say.

(Fire and Blood; The Red Dragon and the Gold)

Some Quotes with Nettle’s Characterization at Maidenpool

Prince Daemon himself would take Caraxes to the Trident, together with the girl Nettles and Sheepstealer, to find Prince Aemond and Vhagar and put an end to them. Ulf White and Hard Hugh Hammer would fly to Tumbleton, some fifty leagues southwest of King’s Landing, the last leal stronghold between Lord Hightower and the city, to assist in the defense of the town and castle and destroy Prince Daeron and Tessarion.

(Fire and Blood; “Rhaenyra Triumphant”)

Why? Because she is a dragonrider and fought bravely at the Battle in the Gullet, where Jacaerys died.

Mushroom [who was not at Maidenpool] would have us believe it was not. By the dwarf’s account, Daemon Targaryen had come to love the small brown bastard girl, and had taken her into his bed.

How much credence can we give the fool’s testimony? Nettles was no more than ten-and-seven, Prince Daemon nine-and-forty, yet the power young maidens exert over older men is well-known.

(Fire and Blood; Rhaenyra Triumphant)

And yet...

The girl Nettles was young, beyond a doubt (though perhaps not as young as those the prince had debauched in his youth), but it seems doubtful that she was a true maiden. Growing up homeless, motherless, and penniless on the streets of Spicetown and Hull, she would most likely have surrendered her innocence not long after her first flowering (if not before), in return for half a groat or a crust of bread. And the sheep she fed to Sheepstealer to bind him to her...how would she have come by those, if not by lifting her skirts for some shepherd? Nor could Netty truly be called pretty. “A skinny brown girl on a skinny brown dragon,” writes Munkun in his True Telling (though he never saw her). Septon Eustace says her teeth were crooked, her nose scarred where it had once been slit for thieving. Hardly a likely paramour for a prince, one would think.

(Fire and Blood; Rhaenyra Triumphant)

And right after, Gyldayn still asserts DaemonxNettles:

None of this constitutes proof that Daemon Targaryen had carnal knowledge of the bastard girl, but in light of what followed we must surely judge that more likely than most of Mushroom’s tales.

(Fire and Blood; Rhaenyra Triumphant)

And the Maester Norren, the miadservants saying Daemon bathed and bathed with Nettles, lord of Maidenpool, his guard captain, his champion Florian Greysteel, and his brother who were all actually at Maidenpool to see Daemon and Nettles together?

We, the readers, can have an understanding that these people and the entire castle knew that Daemon and Nettles had a close relationship and interacted more intimately than they would expect a famous lord and some random peasant girl with culturally-considered-unattractive features to interact.

Immediately, we have to suspect these people because of what I just said: “interacted more intimately than they would expect a famous lord and some random peasant girl”.

These people would not have liked or that Daemon would act out of his class character by even paying close, friendly, platonic attention to her. And they would already see Daemon as one whose past with seeking virgin sex workers proves that he looked to Nettles for sex and sexual intimacy. Or they could have been so surprised at his and Nettles’ “audacity” that they then find it easier to believe that Daemon would have sex with Nettles.

(Besides him liking and sticking with Mysaria, Laena, and Rhaneyra for an extended time with no mention of having extramarital sex with his marriages with the last two…and all of whom who would not have been virgins for different reasons).

Example: If Gyldayn/Norren don’t tell us or consider:

how many times the servant(s) actually saw Daemon bathe Nettles and be naked while doing it?

if Daemon were teaching Nettles to bathe herself properly once or twice and that was all, then when the servants/a servant came in witnessed him bathing Nettles -- is it not feasible to think that they would talk, gossip, and/or exaggerate?

Was Daemon even naked, then, when he would bathe Nettles?

How big was the tub they bathed in? How big was the bed? (the-king-andthe-lionheart )

How frequently does he actually bathe Nettles when only once or twice would get her to understand so she does it herself? Is this the case of a tall tale? Castles and the work servants do are monotonous and hard– what better topic of conversation and fun than a sex-perverse prince possibly sexing up a lowborn, brown-skinned girl?

Why not consider what @the-king-andthe-lionheart says?: “They may have been sharing a bed because one or both of them weren’t secure in their safety which is completely logical during a war. It’s not that hard of a leap to think they would be targeted at their most vulnerable, as powerful dragonriders, in a situation where they weren’t close to their dragons, as in, in their rooms, resting.”

“These two are away from everyone else they know and they are in a drafty stone castle. What is the weather like? Is it cold? Castles were very cold. In days without heaters, it was common to sleep in the same bed as others to remain warm and just for companionship. We even see this in ASOIAF. The Tyrells are honestly probably the most historically accurate family in real life medieval and Renaissance times that are portrayed in the books. Margaery has a lot of ladies-in-waiting and she shares her bed every night with them. [...] Nettles and Daemon are alone. They don’t have their own households with them or any other companions.” (the-king-andthe-lionheart)

“In medieval and Renaissance times you were constantly around other people, which means, you are usually in the presence of other people routinely when even going to the bathroom and bathing. Take the Groom of the Stool for instance” (the-king-andthe-lionheart)

Even Gyldayn gets into an investigation for how Daemon couldn’t have had an affair with Nettles…but he rests his argument on how he believes that she wasn’t “unattractive” because: her looks, how he believed she couldn’t possibly be a virgin (being a low classed girl who had to fend for herself) AND how Daemon refused to allow her to be executed despite Nettles (by Gyldayn’s own implication) not mattering.

In other words, Gyldayn is thinking like a classist and a misogynist and his bias is putting more into a situation than needs be. And these sort of readings really do not tend to reveal real truths but a heavily biased interpretation of events.

Consider this post/reblog by @poorshadowspaintedqueens detailing how credible medieval historians like Gyldayn wrote.

77 notes · View notes

wangsejabin · 2 years ago

Text

Chapter 62

A pair of perfumed hands held her up.

The fingers were long and white, and the little finger and ring fingers wore very fine golden nail guards. "Come on, you have such a big belly, what's the point of saluting. I would dare to accept it, but I'm afraid our Crown Prince won't like it." The Crown Princess said with a smile.

The first half of the whole sentence was not bad, but it changed in flavour at the end. With that implication, even if Pan'er did not want to salute, she had no choice*. Pan'er took two more steps back and bowed down to salute. With her huge belly, it was difficult for her to bend over, let alone curtsy.

As the Prince watched her struggle, cold air was visible on his face.

The Crown Princess also froze, she hadn't expected Pan'er to give in in public. Since Pan'er had been the only concubine taken on tour, as well as there had been no reports of anyone else having been accepted or favoured by the prince, the princess had expected that she would have grown arrogant after a whole year of being solely favoured. Obviously she had not let anyone else get close to the crown prince. Fully expecting that now that she was pregnant, Pan'er would use it as an excuse not to curtsy or be arrogant. That arrogance would have given her a handle on Su Fengyi, giving her a legitimate reason to deal with her and put her back in her place.

"Look at you, I was just joking with you, and you took it seriously. Get up, get up, don't hurt your stomach." Unfortunately, it was too late to say this, and it made the situation very awkward.

Hu Liangdi glanced at her and smiled as she walked up to support Pan'er, "The Crown Princess just likes to joke with us, so it's fine, I've has always had a tricky temper, I've always made the Crown Princess angry. So, the palace is really full of wit, this just arrived in front of the East Palace, before a few words are said, the jokes begin."

Hu Liangdi's words seemed to be speaking for the Crown Princess, but in reality, she was slandering the Crown Princess as jealous and harsh right under the Crown Prince's nose - and at the same time allying with Pan'er, a new favourite. You see, the Crown Princess is such a fool, let's join forces, shall we?

Pan'er didn't dare to answer, smiled gratefully at Hu Liangdi and stood by without saying a word. The prince withdrew his gaze and looked around at the crowd, "All rise." Then he took the lead and led the people inside.

Fu Lu was busy chasing after him, gesturing to the people around him to send two of them to escort Su Fengyi inside.

Who knew that Zhang Laishun would take the initiative to come forward and help Pan'er. This little rabbit was climbing up the ladder again," Fu Lu spat in his heart.

On the other side of the courtyard, Bai Jue and the others had already prepared themselves. Xiao Dezi, in particular, had been like a motherless child since his master had left, and he used to walk out as Brother De, but now he walked out without anyone knowing him. But no one gave him a hard time, and I must say that was a rare thing.

When he heard that the Prince would soon be back, Xiao De Zi counted the days on his fingers every day, and now that he was finally back, he waited at the door so that he would see his master the moment she returned. He was waiting at the door so that he could see his master at the first sign of her return, but when he saw her, but why was there this eunuch at his side? When he got closer, Xiao Dezi realised it was Zhang Laishun and was relieved. He was still thinking that it was because of some unscrupulous person who had taken his place, but Zhang Laishun didn't matter, as Eunuch Zhang was the Prince's man.

"My Master hey, my Master you are finally back." If it weren't for the fact that crying was not allowed in the palace, Xiao Dezi would have just about cried bitterly to show how much he had expected his master's return. He went back and forth around Pan'er, but he couldn't squeeze in, there was Aunt Qing on her left and Zhang Laishun on her right.

When Pan'er went in and sat down, he was still outside the door, looking like 'I want to go in, but I also need to show that I know the rules'. Pan'er was amused by him and beckoned, "Look at you, you're so useless! What's wrong, has someone's bullied you?" Xiao Dezi came in and knelt down and said sweetly, "No one is bullying me, I just miss my master. "

Xiao Tianzi, who was also outside the door, but did not go as far as Xiao Dezi, spat in his heart: "Horse's ass, stinking shit, you're the only one who can say such a thing with a straight! And he was the one who could! He was the one who knew that the master was back, so Little Dezi could be inside and he was outside.Xiao Tianzi slapped himself, telling you to be useless.

"All right, all right, look at your sweet mouth." Pan said with a smirk. As she spoke she rubbed her waist, she was about to say something when she saw Zhang Laishun still standing at the side, so she said, "I'm sorry to bother Eunuch Zhang, there's nothing more for me here, so Eunuch Zhang should hurry back and rest, you've been busy all day."

"I'm not tired, since there's nothing else to do here, I'll go back to my master." Pan'er nodded with a smile and glanced at Xiang Pu. Before Xiang Pu could react, Bai Jue was busy stepping forward and sending Zhang Laishun out, stuffing him with a purse on his way out.

He didn't want to take it, he dared to take anyone's purse but he thought it was back at the palace, so he accepted it as he entered the room, and thanked Su for being so polite. When Zhang Laishun went out, Pan'er hurriedly said, "Quickly, quickly, help me to lie on the bed for a while, my back really hurts."

When she had taken off her shoes and sat down on the bed, Pan'er poked her lightly with her hand and shook her head, "It's time for you to learn more from Bai Jue. "The scolding was affectionate, and Xiang Pu rubbed her head in dismay. She had been out for so long that she was not as responsive as the others, so she really needed to learn more from Bai Jue. Although Qing Dai was not reprimanded, she also looked thoughtful.

While Aunt Qing rubbed Pan'er's back with her own hands, Bai Jie and Bai Zhi were busy pouring water and serving fruit, coming and going, all with a happy look in their eyes. Xiao De Zi, in particular, would have come up if his master hadn't been so close to him that he didn't need to serve him. "All of you should not be busy, you are back anyway. By the way, has anything happened in this palace since I've been gone?" There was not much, but what there was, had happened mainly in Jidetang and in Hu Liangdi's place.

In less than two months after the prince left, Hu Liangdi gave birth to the fourth county princess, which made her very frustrated, as she had vowed that it would be a young imperial grandson, but it turned out to be a daughter. Since then, Hu Liangdi has kept a low profile and has stopped talking about the Empress and finding excuses not to pay her respects to the Crown Princess.

As for Jidetang, it is also very quiet, the child in her belly occupied the whole heart and mind of the Crown Princess, and she was only concentrating on keeping the baby alive. There were two occasions when she almost went into premature labour, but the doctor was able to stabilise her, even so the Crown Princess was still in premature labour for half a month and the eldest son was not too healthy.

According to Xiao Dezi's description, when the first prince was still in his first month of life, he was not very healthy. It was only after the 100th day that he got a little better, but the Crown Princess usually kept a very close eye on him and never took him outside of Jidetang. The Empress personally made a trip to the East Palace to see her grandson for the first time, but since then word has spread that the Crown Prince's eldest son is weak.

It was said that the Crown Princess was very angry about this. As for how and why she was angry about it, it was not for Xiao Dezi to find out. But Pan'er knew why.

Empress Fu was anxious for a royal grandson to be born in the Eastern Palace in order to secure the Crown Prince's position, while the Crown Princess was anxious to have a son in order to secure her own position.

Now that the legitimate imperial grandson was in poor health, it was tantamount to a discount on what both of them had wanted, and the rumours of the Crown Prince's eldest son's frail health essentially cut down the role of this imperial grandson, so it was no wonder that Empress Fu was disappointed.

In fact, Pan'er sincerely hoped that the eldest son would be in good health, because only then would the Crown Princess be less of a demon to her subordinates. Additionally even if she managed to give birth to a son, neither she nor her son would be used to prop up the prestige of the Crown Princess or the little duke.

Pan'er felt a bit of a headache and decided to stop thinking about it and get some sleep to refresh herself. It was only when Xiang Pu came to report that the Crown Princess had set up a banquet at Jidetang that Pan'er was woken up.

When Pan'er arrived, almost everyone had arrived.

After a while, the Crown Prince and the Crown Princess came out from inside together. Had he met the Grand Duke? She guessed in her heart. As it had been almost a year since they had seen the Prince, the banquet should have been extraordinarily lively today.

In fact, the Prince's usual silent nature had returned and the banquet was quiet. She was referring to the fact that, from what she could see, everyone except Ma Chenghui, who kept her head down, was making eyes at the Prince.

The Crown Princess was an exception, she was not frowning at the Prince, but was busy staring at the concubines below. After being gone for almost a year, today is the first day to return, and the Crown Princess has hosted a banquet with such an obvious gesture of goodwill, so naturally the Crown Prince will stay at Jidetang tonight.

Pan'er thought with a bit of astringency in her heart, and then she thought that she too had been outside for too long.

It didn't matter if she was jealous of the women who were sent up outside, she couldn't be jealous of the women in the East Palace.

Pan'er kept her head down and just ate the food in front of her, thinking about her past life and gradually calming down. So when it was time to retire, she didn't even look at the Prince.

The fact that the prince stayed in the Hall of Virtue and did not leave immediately after the meal was over was an indication of his attitude.

When Pan'er went back, she didn't shout about finding books to read, nor did she say that she had to walk after eating to take her mind off things, but went back and said she was going to rest.

Aunt Qing and Qingdi were still a bit confused, but Aunt Qing and Bai Jue looked like they had a clear view of the situation.

When they had laid Pan'er down, Aunt Qing stayed behind. "I'll watch you for a while, don't think too much, go to bed early." Pan'er was a little lost in laughter, and a little touched, and a little embarrassed, was it that obvious that she was doing that? She closed her eyes and let all her thoughts go, letting herself fall into sleep.

At first she couldn't sleep, she could even hear Auntie Qing breathing and gently fanning her, gradually her thoughts became more and more blurred. She felt herself being pressed down and subconsciously leaned back, but she fell short and woke up instantly.

She felt behind her, empty, and felt the urge to cry. A large palm reached out and embraced her curled up body.

"Why are you so dishonest even when you're sleeping?

#yingchong #mtl #* she had no choice but to salute since a concubine intentionally causing a rift between the male and female master was a rather grievous #crime or fault #of course concubines would often do this but it's thing for it to happen and go unsaid - another for it to be overt and be accused of it #directly being given the name of being rebellious or inciting discord could actually get a concubine killed #remember a concubine was a toy or an object- less so in royal families where they are more likely to be nobles themselves or have influenta #families so they couldn't easily be killed or physically punished but in a lesser family? sure.

24 notes · View notes

waitingforwinterwinds · 2 years ago

Text

Game of Thrones - 71 JON IX (pages 747-759)

Jon tries to quit the Black, only to be reminded that retirement in this line of work comes with a body bag, and that his friends are awesome. Mormont reveals the plan for a team trip north for zombie investigations.

When Jon did not appear to fetch the Old Bear's breakfast from the kitchen, they'd look in his cell and find Longclaw on the bed. It had been hard to abandon it, but Jon was not so lost to honor as to take it with him. Even Jorah Mormont had not done that, when he fled in disgrace. Doubtless, Lord Mormont would find someone more worthy of the blade. Jon felt bad when he thought of the old man. He knew his desertion would be salt in the still-raw wound of his son's disgrace. that seemed a poor way to repay him for his trust, but it couldn't be helped. No matter what he did, Jon felt as though he was betraying someone. Even now he did not know if he was doing the honorable thing.

That really is the hardest park to translate to screen, motive and internal conflict. Like, you can have a character talk out loud, whether to an animal or to themselves, but there's always that weirdness of hearing what you know would be an internal dialogue.

Even the best actors can only really show that there is something going on inside, but even then it's more vague alignment and vibes "this character feels negatively about choice A" but that doesn't necessarily give you the 'why' of it.

He would need to find new clothes soon; most like, he'd need to steal them. He was clad in black from head to heel; high leather riding boots, roughspun breeches and tunic, sleeveless leather jerkin, and heavy wool cloak. His longsword and dagger were sheathed in black moleskin, and the hauberk and coif in his saddlebag were black ringmail.

roughspun = 🥛

He was who he was; Jon snow, bastard and oathbreaker, motherless, friendless, and damned. For the rest of his life - however long that might be - he would be condemned to be an outsider, the silent man standing in the shadows who dares not speak his true name. Wherever he might go throughout the Seven Kingdoms, he would need to live a lie, lest every man's hand be raised against him.

Knowing (thanks to the show) about Jon Targaryen. Wow, that's a parallel/foreshadow-in-hindsight that smacks you in the face with all the grace of a dead fish.

but also now I need a copy of that guy in the corner of the party saying 'they don't know [thing]' meme, but with Jon as the guy in the corner of the party "they don't know i'm jon snow" (it would be, the nichest of memes.)

"You said the words," Pyp reminded him. "Now my watch begins, you said it. It shall not end until my death." "I shall live and die at my post," Grenn added, nodding. ... "I am the sword in the darkness," Halder intoned. "The watcher on the walls," piped Toad. (...) Pyp spurred his horse closer, reciting, "I am the fire that burns against the cold, the light that brings the dawn, the horn that wakes the sleepers, the shield that guards the realm of men." ... Matthar circled behind him. He joined the chorus. "I pledge my life and honor to the Night's Watch." Jon kicked his mare, spinning her in a circle. The boys were all around him now, closing from every side. "For this night..." Halder trotted in from the left. "... and all the nights to come," finished Pyp. He reached over for Jon's reins. "So here are your choices. Kill me, or come back with me."

This was one of my favourite scenes in the early show, ngl, the boys standing around Jon reciting their vow to the watch. I do like that there's actually more than just Grenn and Pyp (and Sam in the show only) coming after him, (Halder says seven, though I only saw 5 names). I also really like the imagery of them surrounding Jon on their horses while Jon turns to see them all. It really drives home that, even though Jon spends/spent a lot of time on his high horse, he has more people around him who care about him than he realises.

In the show it's presented more as a chase, with Jon stopping and coming back because Sam was knocked off his horse, but in the book it's more... Jon stopped to hide as the others caught up and he was forced to face them.

It felt like Show!Jon was always going to do "the right thing" he just needed a reminder, but book!Jon was seriously struggling with it, and really did need help to make the decision, and even afterwards he isn't 100% sure it was the right thing even though he knows it was the only choice, to go back to the Wall.

Jon opened a shuttered window, took a flagon of beer off the outside ledge, and filled a horn. Hobb had given him a lemon, still cold from the Wall. Jon crushed it in his fist. The juice trickled through his fingers. Mormont drank lemon with his beer every day, and claimed it was why he still had his own teeth.

🍋=🥛

"- Aemon told me you'd go. I told him you'd be back. I know my men... and my boys too. Honor set you on the kingsroad... and honor brought you back." "My friends brought me back." Jon said. "Did I say it was your honor?"

And this is one of my fav clapbacks.

It really does encapsulate though, that it wasn't Jon's choice to return, it wasn't a hero wavering then choosing the right path, it was a boy struggling with himself, it was his friends helping him. (Whether he wanted that help or not.)

And the fact that Mormont knew Jon was a flight risk? just, *chef's kiss*

"All I know is that the blood of the First Men flows in the veins of the Starks. The First Men built the Wall, and it's said they remember things otherwise forgotten. And that beast of yours... he led us to the wights, warned you of the dead man on the steps. Ser Jarmey would doubtless call that happenstance, yet Ser Jarmey is dead and I'm not."

"All I know is that the blood of Protagonists flows in the veins of the Starks." It's true, and if left unchecked, some of them can develop a serious case of Plot Armour. (Not to be confused with having skills and luck which are well matched to the situation at hand.)

"By custom, the Lord Commander's steward is his squire as well... but I do not care to wake every dawn wondering if you've run off again. So I will have an answer from you, Lord Snow, and I will have it now. Are you a brother of the Night's Watch... or only a bastard playing at war?" Jon Snow straightened himself and took a long deep breath. Forgive me, Father. Robb, Arya, Bran... forgive me, I cannot help you. He has the truth of it. This is my place. "I am... yours, my lord. Your man. I swear it. I will not run again."

There we go, now it's Jon's choice, now he's made his decision.

Though I will admit, the mean part of me is taking very strong note that he's made this choice only now after being offered the chance to go North of the Wall which is what he's been trying to do since he got there.

#a song of ice and fire #asoiaf #game of thrones #jon snow #a chapter a day reading #got

8 notes · View notes

ancient-wanderer · 4 months ago

Text

Title: In the Shadow of Artemis - Chapter 3

The morning sun rose over the temple, its warm rays filtering through the trees and illuminating the worn columns and statues. Daphnae sat cross-legged on a small ledge overlooking the forest, her bow next to her. Her eyes were closed, her mind drifting. It had been a restless night, and the morning was proving to be just as taxing.

The sound of footsteps interrupted her thoughts, and her eyes fluttered open. She glanced over her shoulder, her gaze landing on Kassandra, her son cradled in her arms.

"Good morning," Kassandra said, her voice soft, hesitant.

Daphnae nodded. "Good morning."

There was a brief pause, the silence punctuated only by the sounds of the forest waking up.

"Can I join you?" Kassandra asked, gesturing to the ledge.

Daphnae nodded again and Kassandra approached slowly, sitting beside her. Their shoulders brushed, the contact sending a shiver down Daphnae's spine. The proximity was both unsettling and comforting, a contradiction she didn't have the strength to deal with at the moment.

She glanced at Kassandra, taking in the sight of her, the way the morning sunlight made her skin glow and her hair seem to shine. She had seen many beautiful women in her time, but none could hold a candle to Kassandra. Even after all these years, Daphnae's breath caught at the sight of her.

"Thank you," Kassandra said, her gaze meeting Daphnae's. "For everything."

Daphnae held her gaze, seeing the sincerity in her eyes. There was always something disarming about Kassandra, a kind of charm that made it hard to ignore her. She felt a sudden urge to reach out, to touch her, to feel the warmth of her skin. Instead, she nodded, looking away.

"Thank you," Kassandra said again, a faint smirk tugging at her lips now. "For not killing me on sight." Her voice carried a touch of mirth, but beneath it, Daphnae sensed sincerity—Kassandra knew how deeply Daphnae honored her vows, and she was genuinely grateful she hadn’t acted on them.

Daphnae's lips twitched for a moment, but her expression quickly sobered. She kept her gaze fixed on the horizon, the weight of her words settling heavily in her chest. "That would have been foolish," she replied, her tone carefully neutral. "You have a child now."

The reminder tasted bitter, but she forced the words out, as if trying to convince herself of their truth. She shifted her bow across her lap, her fingers tracing the worn wood, hoping the familiar touch would steady the storm swirling inside her.

"You have a child now," she repeated softly, as if trying to remind herself of that fact, as if saying it aloud would dull the ache in her heart. "You're a mother... and a wife." The last word felt foreign on her tongue, heavy with the weight of everything that word meant. "Your path has changed, as has mine. What use would it be to strike you down now? What would it prove but to make your son motherless? What would that accomplish for Artemis or her Daughters?"

She let her gaze drift back to Kassandra, studying her. Her jaw was clenched, her expression carefully guarded, but the sadness in her eyes gave her away—an ache that mirrored Daphnae's own.

"You know I didn’t want any of this," Kassandra murmured, her voice a fragile thread. "Trials, tests, mortal combat—I never wanted that." She exhaled deeply, the sound heavy, as though she were trying to let go of a burden too vast to carry. "Not with you."

"It was but the will of the gods, and my vows." Daphnae said the words as much for Kassandra's benefit as her own, trying to remind them both that they were not the ones in control, that the path had been laid out for them and they were powerless to change it.

Kassandra scoffed, blowing out a sharp breath. "Malákas!" She shook her head, the frustration radiating off her. "We should be free to choose our own fate. To be who we are, not what the gods or others demand of us."

Elpidios stirred in Kassandra’s arms, a soft, unhappy sound escaping him as if he could feel the tension in her voice. Kassandra shifted, her frustration tempered as she soothed him, her lips brushing his brow. "Shh, little one. It's not about you."

Daphnae watched the moment unfold, her fingers tightening around her bow. She couldn’t shake the sense that there was more to Kassandra’s words than the trials and tests of the past, something unspoken and heavy that lingered between them. It was a frustration that ran deeper than just their shared history, though Daphnae didn’t have the full picture.

"Maybe one day," she murmured, her eyes following a pair of birds soaring across the bright sky. "But for now, we must accept what the fates have given us. I have my duties, and you have yours."

Kassandra looked up at her, and for a moment, the pain in her eyes was raw, almost desperate. She opened her mouth to speak, but then seemed to think better of it, pressing her lips together.

Daphnae held her gaze, the silence stretching between them. It was an invisible barrier, a wall that neither was willing to tear down, not yet.

"Daphnae, I—" Kassandra began, her words faltering when a sudden rustle of branches interrupted them. Her head snapped toward the sound, Daphnae instinctively raising her bow, tension coiling in the air between them.

Natakas emerged from the forest, a small collection of game slung over his shoulder. His face was etched with fatigue, and a flash of pain crossed his features as he limped toward them, clearly favoring one leg.

Kassandra's posture eased, but her brow knitted with concern. “You’re injured,” she observed, rising from the ledge, Elpidios still nestled against her chest.

"I'll be fine," Natakas said, trying to brush her off.

Daphnae rose to her feet, her gaze flicking between Kassandra and Natakas. He was a stranger to her, but his arrival now, interrupting the heavy silence after her conversation with Kassandra, only deepened the awkward tension hanging in the air.

Kassandra’s body language shifted as soon as she saw his injury. The concern etched on her face was unmistakable, her protective instinct taking over as she got up to hover over him. Natakas, on the other hand, seemed uncomfortable under her scrutiny, his eyes avoiding hers as he fidgeted with the strap of hares slung over his shoulder.

"What happened?" Kassandra’s voice cut through the quiet, firm and direct. Daphnae had heard that tone before, back when Kassandra was all misthios and mission. "Did someone follow you?"

"No, no," Natakas shook his head quickly, as if trying to dismiss her worry. "I was hunting, and I... I tripped."

Daphnae raised an eyebrow at that, and Kassandra mirrored the gesture, her lips curving slightly in disbelief. "Tripped?" Kassandra echoed, her voice soft but serious. "On what?"

Natakas glanced up at her. "It’s a forest," he muttered, sounding defensive. "There’s plenty to trip over."

A faint smile tugged at Kassandra’s lips, though her gaze remained sharp. "Right," she replied quietly, shaking her head, the tension still clear between them.

"Well, I got the game," Natakas added, a note of pride creeping into his voice as he motioned to the hares.

"At least there’s that," Kassandra conceded, though her concern didn’t waver as she reached for the strap of hares on his shoulder. “Come, sit down before you fall down. Let me look at your leg.” She glanced toward Daphnae, extending the hares toward her. “Daphnae, could you handle these?”

Daphnae stepped forward without a word, accepting the hares and turning toward the fire. She didn’t miss the brief look Natakas sent her way—a quick, uncertain glance, as if he was trying to gauge her, but didn’t know what to make of her yet. Daphnae didn’t know what to make of him either, aside from the fact that he was the father of Kassandra’s son. That alone told her enough.

Kassandra knelt beside Natakas, her hands moving with a practiced ease as she checked his leg. Her fingers were gentle, but there was a certain efficiency in her touch, the same way Daphnae remembered her tending to her own wounds in the past. There was no hesitation, no doubt in her movements, only a focused determination to make sure Natakas was alright.

He winced slightly but didn’t pull away. His eyes darted back to Daphnae once, briefly, before settling on Kassandra, his discomfort unmistakable.

"You two seem familiar," he murmured, his voice carefully neutral, but the question lingered in his gaze.

Kassandra didn’t meet his eyes right away. Instead, she focused on his leg, her fingers gently probing the swollen area. “We’ve crossed paths before,” she said, her tone clipped, as if that simple statement could encompass everything between her and Daphnae. But it couldn’t. It didn’t.

Daphnae didn’t respond, her eyes drifting to the ground as if the earth itself held the answers she wasn’t ready to give. There were layers of history between her and Kassandra, layers that Natakas couldn’t begin to understand—at least not yet.

Natakas shifted his weight, adjusting his position on the rock. “Right,” he said, glancing between them again. He could sense the tension, though he couldn’t name its source. The silence that followed seemed too thick, too heavy, like it was laden with everything unsaid.

"I should see to the hares," Daphnae announced, clearing her throat. She turned away, though the air seemed to press in on her.

As she worked, she overheard Kassandra’s voice carrying over to Natakas. "I don’t think it’s broken, but you should stay off of it tonight," Kassandra advised. "If we need to leave in a hurry, you won’t be able to run."

"No, we need to leave soon," Natakas countered, his frustration palpable. "We need to find out what happened to my father. He could still be out there."

Daphnae glanced back at them, noticing Kassandra’s expression shift from concern to a more sympathetic resolve. "Natakas, if the Order captured him..." Kassandra’s voice trailed off, leaving the grim possibility hanging in the air.

"I can’t just abandon him," Natakas pressed, desperation lining his words. "Not if there’s even a chance..."

"I understand," Kassandra replied, her tone firm and resolute. "But if we go now, we’re risking our lives and Elpidios’s safety. You know Darius wouldn’t want us to put him in danger." Natakas sighed heavily, his frustration mingling with resignation. Kassandra continued, "Besides, you can’t do anything with that leg. At least stay off it for a few days."

"A few days? Here?" Natakas’s disbelief was evident as he gestured around the temple.

Daphnae couldn’t help but scoff. The man’s reluctance was understandable, but she was less than thrilled at the idea of a stranger under her goddess's roof.

"Yes, if we’re lucky, Daphnae will allow us refuge for a few days," Kassandra said, glancing briefly at Daphnae. She gave a terse nod, her expression unreadable. "We’ll rest and stay out of sight."

As they continued their conversation, Elpidios began to whimper in Kassandra’s arms. Natakas’s concern shifted to practicality. "We’re out of goat milk," he said, glancing around with a frown. "Elpidios needs to eat."

Kassandra responded with a calm, nonchalant demeanor. "I can feed him."

Natakas’s eyes widened in surprise. "You can still...?"

Kassandra gave a casual shrug. "Yes."

Without further explanation, Kassandra adjusted Elpidios, unfastening her tunic and pulling her breast free, holding him close to feed. Daphnae turned her attention back to the hares, struggling to avoid staring.

The soft sounds of the baby nursing filled the quiet, creating a cocoon of intimacy that Daphnae found both compelling and intrusive. She couldn't help but be drawn to the scene, a strange mixture of curiosity and fascination tugging at her.

When she dared to glance over, she saw Kassandra gazing down at Elpidios with a tender, almost dreamy expression. Natakas, meanwhile, was focused on adjusting the makeshift splint on his leg but cast occasional glances toward Kassandra and the baby.

"Who's a hungry boy? You are!" Kassandra’s voice took on a playful, sing-song quality, a side of her Daphnae had never seen before. It was a stark contrast from the battle-hardened warrior she'd known. Daphnae hadn't expected such softness, such tenderness, from the woman who'd slain the Nemean Lion.

Kassandra's eyes met Daphnae's, and for a fleeting moment, Daphnae saw a hint of self-consciousness in the warrior’s gaze. Then, with a shy, half-smile, Kassandra seemed to embrace the vulnerability of the moment, her exposed breast a subtle statement of intimacy. Daphnae forced herself to keep her gaze steady, returning the smile with a gentle curve of her lips, while struggling not to let her eyes wander. Was it her imagination, or did Kassandra look satisfied to see Daphnae wrestle with her own desire?

"He must be hungry," Natakas observed, his voice breaking the moment. Daphnae quickly looked away, heat rising to her cheeks as she tended to the hares.

Kassandra responded with a shrug, her attention returning to her son. "He is. He has the appetite of a true Spartan. I guess he’s already living up to his heritage," she chuckled, affection lacing her words.

"Like his mother, I suppose," Natakas commented, a playful tone in his voice. Kassandra simply flashed him a smile.

As the morning progressed, the temple's serene atmosphere was punctuated by a new sense of urgency. Natakas’s injury, though minor, had made it clear that they needed to stay put for a while. The idea of keeping a low profile, away from potential threats, became paramount.

Daphnae watched Kassandra tend to her son and Natakas, feeling a complicated mix of relief and unease. Kassandra’s presence, once a distant memory, was now impossible to ignore. She’d spent years trying to forget the misthios, yet being near her again stirred familiar emotions she had tried to bury. The thought of Kassandra staying longer brought a rush of feelings she knew all too well but was too afraid to fully confront.

A brief glance from Kassandra caught Daphnae’s eye, a silent exchange passing between them. Kassandra’s gaze, softer than before, hinted at something unspoken—perhaps even lingering desire. Daphnae couldn’t ignore the flutter in her chest, even as she grappled with the confusion and tension of their reunion.

Natakas seemed to shift uneasily. His gaze lingered a little too long between the two women, the tension between them becoming more noticeable. His jaw tightened, and though he remained silent, the strain in his posture spoke louder than any words.

"We should move inside," Daphnae suggested, breaking the silence. "It’s better to stay hidden in case someone comes by." She motioned to Natakas. "Can you stand?"

Natakas grunted as he struggled to his feet. “I suppose some privacy would do us all good,” he said, his voice tinged with a sharp edge that hinted at more than just discomfort. He glanced pointedly at Daphnae, then at Kassandra, his eyes briefly narrowing.

Kassandra frowned but moved beside him, supporting him with a hand on his arm. Elpidios nestled into her, fast asleep and content.

As Daphnae led them inside the temple, the tension seemed to cling to the air. She glanced back to see Natakas hobbling along, leaning on Kassandra for support. Kassandra's expression was back to a carefully maintained mask, her gaze fixed ahead as if to keep her thoughts at bay.

And Daphnae's gaze drifted up to the statue of Artemis, a silent witness to their tangled emotions. The weight of the unspoken hung heavily in the air as they crossed the threshold, each step echoing the uncertainty of what was to come.

#ac odyssey #kassandra/daphnae #kassandra x daphnae #kassandra #daphnae #assassin's creed #fanfic #legacy of first blade au #in the shadow of artemis

0 notes

cirqosmos · 2 years ago

Text

ONE KISS IS ALL IT TAKES

summary: to escape from the miserable and never ending time loop, you are willing to do anything even if it means you would kiss the priest instead of your future husband.

genre: time-loop, modern au, mafia,

pairing: jungwon x fem! reader

warning: cursing, murder and murder attempts, death, poisoning,

word count: 7.3k

a/n: 'kissing the priest' prompt was inspired by a one-chapter manhwa called 'the obsessive second male lead had gone wild'. found it through yt reels 😂 and too bad it's just 1 chapter , haven't read it though so I just thought to make a story inspired by the prompt and add the rest of my own imagination :3

Your eyes fluttered open at the sun peeking through the windows of your room, the refreshing breeze passing through the soft materials of the curtain. Stretching your body, you felt the comforting feeling and so you laid your feet on the carpeted floor, and you looked up to see the maids coming through the open door. Some of them had plenty of white towels on their left arm, some were holding a black box on the palms of their hands and some had the lacy white gown — the one you had chosen for today, for your wedding day.

Upon seeing the material, your lips pulled up in the brightest smile and you couldn’t suppress it as you approached it, tracing your fingers on the gown.

Your chest rose and fell as you glanced outside the window in which plenty of people in maid attires, butlers, chefs, guards, waiters and waitresses — all of them doing their respective tasks. Soon the invited guests would come along with their little childrens, supportive friends, uncles and aunties, friends and relatives who would give their blessing.

"You look so breathtakingly beautiful, Miss (Name)." the young maid's eyes sparkled in amazement as she finished the last touch of your wedding dress, letting it fall to the floor in a graceful way. You nodded with an appreciative smile, spinning around to check on yourself.

Tap, tap, tap. The door swings open revealing the butler with the lazy but firm look on his face, "It's time."

You, a 20 year old young lady whose mother had abandoned you since her childhood, with only your father to look after you despite his alcoholic tendencies sometimes, he still tried his best to be a good father. At school, the petty kids often bully you for being motherless too, a dramatic pity story you can say that. But heck are you gonna let that define you? So you did all you could to climb up to the top with all you had and gain whatever you could to survive in this cruel world, a lady who had just embarked on her journey to start on her career, with the sole purpose to become an independent woman, swaying your pointy gorgeous heels to stray fuckboys away and indulge in your self-made millionaire ass because you wanted it and because you deserve it.

Which makes you wonder what you are doing here? What are you doing on this fat pretty wedding dress on the decorated flowery aisle?

Well, the same old cliche story; you met him, your lover in an unusual way, got stuck in a place together for almost an eternity, and the old sayings allegedly confirming ‘it only take 7 seconds to fall in love’ which actually only applies to your future husband because sweetie that's definitely not you, falling in love recklessly are bound to land you on a steepy slimy pretty cliff if you don't watch your steps. And so you landed a strong punch to his face when he tried to kiss you because who does he think he is? A hot male lead in a rom-com office drama? Oh please.

Well, maybe he does but in a different genre because he belongs in a mafia family which you found out an eternity later after a thousand dates and a thousand punches, and the rest was history — your life seems to be stuck with guns and knives from then on instead of hot independence but well money and exquisite heels still exists either way right?

And of course a hot young man, your one and only future husband, Park Sunghoon. The firstborn of the Park family, one of the wealthiest families in Seoul. However, as wealthy as they are, unlike any other family, they prefer to stay behind the shadows and let people take the spotlight but that was what makes them extremely mysterious and alluring.

But their son was far too different, at least in the way he carries himself around others.

It's far too obvious in how he looks and behaves so there won't be a problem to guess it because he gave it away too much, Sunghoon. Park Sunghoon, the firstborn of the Park Family. He never fails to mention that around people and especially, especially around you. A narcissist as you called him which he doesn’t mind, that goddamn hottie who exudes too much charms and confidence, because he believes that he's far too good for this world. Annoying but hot, and yet you still fell in love with him.

So, it's obvious by now that this wedding was not simple, nor anything you would call ‘normal’ since your future husband is none other than a mafia’s son. The people attending this seemingly simple wedding with grand decorations, are actually mafias and their minions in disguise, well at least some of them.

It no longer matters to you though that he belongs to a dangerous background, he was the only one that ever mattered for you from now on. His family was weirdly delighted over their son picking you, you actually thought you’d have to go through 14 chapters of your story to ever marry him but you were more grateful than ever that it didn’t have to go that far.

What a hassle, let's get over to the story already, folks. Flashbacks done!

You walked down the aisle ready to meet your future husband who was now waiting for you with a big wide smile adorning his face, ah there he was, handsome as ever — and then at the guests at your either side watching you as if you were the most beautiful woman in the entire world. The soft violin music echoing through the air, the pretty decorations surrounding you, the delicious smell of the cuisine waiting to be eaten after the wedding and the sweet fragrance lingering along with it.

It was the greatest feeling, only if it was actually your first time.

Yeah, you heard that right. This wasn't the first time you got married, in fact, it's the 56th time you walked down the aisle and went through the process over and over again. The happiness adorning on your face had fell into an uninterested look as you continued your way down the aisle, since it's nothing new — you could actually compare it to watching a TV show on repeat and the only difference was you're being forced on this fucking time-loop.

And you might wonder, how did this even happen in the first place? Well folks, it might be surprising so keep your lips shut right so a bee won't randomly fly into your pretty mouth.

10 years from now, you will face your death in a way you won't ever rest in peace. Why? Because you'll die at the hands of your beloved husband, Park Sunghoon. Yes you hear that right, your sweet loving husband who set up you to death in the cruellest way possible just so you would be really dead.

How sweet, right?

10 years into your marriage, your beloved husband was no longer the same. His loving touches, sweet words, honey-like smiles, gifts that he often bought for you no matter how simple or cheap it was because for the both of you, it doesn’t matter as long as love was wrapped inside it. He no longer does any of those anymore. At first, on the very first day he seemed distant, you thought he was only tired due to his ‘work’ but how wrong you were when that day wasn’t the last day he would treat you like that.

Somewhere on a typical rainy day in late February, you found him cheating behind your back, yes a shitty man indeed, even the dead would be ashamed to acknowledge him.

Where did it go wrong? You never knew. Did your story actually turn into a pathetic wife waiting to be mercilessly cast away from her husband as soon as his young mistress in her thick makeup and in her loud devilish heels appeared with a grand entrance?

It’s only 10 years, you couldn’t have looked that old for him to fall out of love from you that quick? Tch, even if you look old then it shouldn’t have mattered that much if he really did love you. Fuck. What a joke. Men are all the same, aren’t they?

So your beloved husband had murdered you through all those timelines in the cruelest way possible, all sorts of stuff he could ever think and some of them sometimes includes his shameless mistress. The pain was real, you felt it. When the first time everything resets back to the wedding day, it was only wise that you tried to cancel the wedding but to your dismay, you were forced to walk down the aisle in which you couldn't do anything but let things unfold once again.

Death, all over again. And along with those countless deaths, love for your beloved husband slowly dies along with it as well.

You had lost count to be honest, you've grown tired but you had no choice but to keep going on and try to change something so this time-loop could end for once and for all.

With the sound of your heels echoing along with the slow violin music, you observe everyone around you — the same scenery, yet somehow there's always something little different.

The bridesmaid who was checking her gown, the uncle who has took a shot of glass even before the wedding starts and now his face was flushed red, the couple in the farthest corner of the seat who had an obvious love quarrel — refusing to acknowledge each other until the wedding ends, the aunties from your future husband's side who has now favoured you a lot, relatives from your side who was gasping relentlessly over the lavish and grand decorations of the wedding, the adorable pair of children messing around with flower in the baskets despite how their parents tried everything to stop them and all you can say but don't have the time to, all of them were always there except that for every timeline — they were doing a complete different thing.

You could memorise it all, but it's all useless if none of what you did to escape the time-loop even works. You tried everything from sleeping late so you couldn't attend the wedding, from hitting the maids' head so they couldn't help you with your dress, to actually locking Sunghoon inside the basement — but all of it was deemed useless, since no matter what you do, you always find yourself walking down the aisle with the stupid bouquet in your hands and with everything as normal like you didn't do anything at all, it was as if you were teleported there no matter what you do.

And yet, 'giving up' is nowhere to be seen in your big fat ass dictionary.

Freeze, dance, waltz, screams, cheers, clink clanks, stinky mouth and the annoying violin music that you heard for the nth time — clenching the bouquet in your fists and with a big inhale, you halted your steps, everyone was confused as to why but before they can ask you anything.

You screamed like a maniac.

Everyone stood up on their feet, some with hands on their mouth, some hid behind their partners, some tried to approach you asking what's wrong and yet you thrashed around ruining the bouquet and throwing it on the ground as the flowery petals flew around in multiple directions.

If anything can be used to describe you right now, it would be a certified maniac psychopath future wife.

“H-honey? (Name)!? What the fuck is wrong with you?!” Sunghoon’s face contorts into disbelief as he tries to approach you but you shoved him away in the process.

Well you didn't care, extreme situations require extreme measures and your dignity is the very least thing you could think of since well none of these people would even remember what you did.

Screaming at the top of your lungs, hopping on your bare feet with your pretty shiny heels between your fingers, you prayed loudly inside your heart, "Please work! Just please let this work! I don't give a fuck if I got labeled as a psychopath, I would truly turn into a psychopath if I got stuck in this useless time loop again! Please! Please—"

"The groom and the bride may kiss now." Your eyes shoot open, looking down and up only to see your future son-of-a-bitch husband with his stupid smile after he said his stupid vows as he gave a stupid kiss on your hand.

Your eyebrows knitted together with your eyes uninterested as his lips gently crashed against yours, the same cheers from the guests as they threw flowery petals on the both of you.

And this is where the real deal starts.

The moment you and Sunghoon walk down the aisle, like always, it switches to the very part where you were forced to relive all the moments and memories on repeat. The giant-ass clock hanging on the manor shows 4:12pm, the same time where the 10 years of your life will be on repeat once again.

Cold, wet and dirty.

This time, your husband was nowhere to be seen. Most of the time, your death were often inside the manor and so you being here on a dark empty street in the middle of the woods, it's only safe to assume that the son of a bitch threw you off from his car. Great, now you gotta wait for death to consume you and you wonder what is it this time. Looking down, you noticed yourself wearing a dirty rag cloth with ripped holes on it, your hair frizzy and dry but smells rotten and musty, your skin having wound and rashes on it and somehow you felt a wave of weakness wash over your body.

Bitch, did that bastard just abuse you?

You couldn't have anymore thoughts as your body grew weak as time passed, letting itself devoured by the growing weakness, your head laid itself on the cold ground. Your sight blurred and teary as you looked up to the clear grey sky, foggy and cold.

Why the fuck you gotta be killed everytime? It's honestly tiring at this point.

With that, death consumes you.

—

The same maids. Same day. Same people. Fuck everyone.

The wedding day again, when is this going to ever end? Clenching the material of your gown in your fists, you've tried everything to prevent the wedding from ever happening. You've tried every single fucking thing to not marry him and yet it's still the same thing.

Sunghoon must’ve been God’s favourite. Tch.

Why did the deity even give you the chance to restart your life if you're only bound to go through the same outcome over and over again?

You're really tired, so fucking tired.

You walked down the aisle ready to meet that son of a bitch with that same stupid smile, you took a brief glance toward the guests at your sides with with that same look as if you were a damn goddess because yes hell you are. And the soft violin music echoing through the air, you damned wish at the deities that they could at least change that to a different instrument because it's ripping your ear drums off. The pretty decorations surrounding you, the delicious smell of the cuisine waiting to be eaten, which you never got the chance to eat unfortunately and the sweet fragrance making you wanna puke at this point.

Finally, you halted your steps, standing beside the mafia's son. Sigh. You gotta do something, but what? You've tried almost everything you could think of. Your face falls down as you try to think of something. Think, think. Is that all you got? You didn't work your ass off just to be this damn stupid. Think of something, think.

You hissed when the priest starts to talk nonsense about the stuff you heard over a dozen times already, your brain is about to burst at any moment like for Christ's sake.

"Just shut up!" You immediately covered your mouth with your hand, utterly shocked that you actually voiced it out. Murmurs were heard and you could feel their eyes boring your back, but it's not like you care. They won't even remember anyways.

"Sorry father—" Heh? You tilted your head, are you seeing things?

You blinked twice to get a better view at the priest in front of you, it was weird, something was unusually odd. Something was different from the set of timelines you've been through before.

The priest is different, last time you checked the priest was an old man in his 60s with his head all bald, back slouching and skin saggy, eyes drooping with no life inside it but this one..

This one was younger, his flowy black hair almost covering his eyes, his long eyelashes fluttering as he read through the pages and the faint blush on his cheek along with his tongue briefly licking his sweet red lips.

Your breath hitched as you took in the beauty of this young man in front of you. How could such a beautiful young man turn out to be a priest? This must be a joke, well why you're even surprised, life has utterly been treating you like a joke all this time.

So it won't be such a surprise if 'life' decided to switch the priest and throw a random hot man instead.

You were snapped out of your deep thought when your future husband called out for you with concern on his face, like bitch stop with that. You mumbled a sorry to the priest and everything went back to normal again.

Yea, as if. But why did the priest switched into a young man? Don't tell me the old man regressed into his younger version after so many timelines, bish please—

"Sunghoon, do you take (Name) for your lawful wife, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do you part?"

Sunghoon's eyes crinkled with smiles, "I do."

You smiled as if you're not going to plunge a knife in my heart, Park Sunghoon-ssi.

The young priest then turns his attention towards you, "(Name), do you take Sunghoon for your lawful husband, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do you part?

His adorable and innocent boba eyes as he waited for your response and yet, fuck. Now that you observed him more, he definitely looks hot. Shit, what's wrong with you?! You have to find a way to survive, not simp on a hot young priest!

Sunghoon cleared his throat, eyes lingering with concern and worry as he mouthed 'are you okay' to you, you briefly glanced at the guests over your shoulder and their eyes laid on you confused and impatience from Sunghoon's family, and your dad as well.

"(Name), do you take Sunghoon for your lawful husband, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do you part?

"O-oh, I do. I do." you finally answered, stuttering as you cleared your throat. Yeah, I fucking do wanna leave this place as soon as I can.

The ceremonial wedding ring soon took place, with Sunghoon delighted to put the ring on your finger and you did the same, obviously with the disinterested look on your face.

"The groom and the bride may now kiss." The low and soft tone of the priest behind you was enough to take your attention away from the groom. Now that you thought of it, the kiss was the last thing to seal off the wedding and the next was the fast timeskip to 10 years and so, an idea pops in your head. It might sound crazy but you can't bear to live through the same timeline again, you're willing to take any risk if it meant to save your life.

Sunghoon places his hand on your neck and leans closer as he prepares to kiss you ‘again’, yea sike. You harshly shoved his face away with your hand in which his jaw dropped and eyes wide in response. “(Name)!?’

Pushing away the arms of your husband, you turned around to the direction of the young priest. You observed as his adorable boba eyes widened as you approached him with your hands lifting your gown so you could walk at ease.

One step, two steps.

You halted your steps in front of him, and you gasped as you took in his tall figure and his dark-colored eyes set on you. It might kill you, things might go wrong but you had no choice.

Confused, he asked, “M-miss?”

Without further hesitation, you wrapped your hands on his neck in which he was taken aback, mouthing a simple sentence you doubt he could even hear, I'm sorry father. Pulling him closer to you as you shut your eyes tight, crashing your lips into his.

Gasps and murmurs emit in the air as they watch the scene unfolding in front of them.

You didn't move your lips against his. Heck, it would be awkward. But you tasted how his lips felt so plump and soft against yours, it tasted sweet. You swore your heart is about to burst, and your cheeks burning from the embarrassment of kissing a stranger and even more so, a priest. But you really had no choice but to try another way to escape from this miserable timeline.

"(Name), what the hell do you think you're doing!?" pushing yourself away from the priest whose face was blushing profusely, his boba eyes about to pop out anytime due to the kiss.

Forgive me, lord for kissing him.

"The fuck? What kind of woman are you bringing in to our family, Sunghoon?!"

Sunghoon ruffled through his hair in disappointment as he struggled to accept what he had just seen, but it didn't take long before reality dawned on him.

"(Name)? Just w-what kind of prank is this, honey?"

His pained expression might've done wonders to your heart if you were still in love with him but you were actually way more worried for the young priest now– wait?

This is odd. You thought as you observed everything before you, and then at the giant ass clock hanging on the manor. 4:13pm.

Your jaw dropped, eyes widening in fractions as you can't believe it, it can't be?!

You are free?! You turn to the young priest with your eyes blinking back your tears as you covered your mouth with your hand to suppress your scream of joy, you are really free! The priest, he's your saviour!

The priest’s eyebrows knitted together in immense confusion as to why you were so happy.

You rushed in to the priest's arms, surprising him for the nth time as, engulfing him with your big wide hug as you mumbled a thousand thank yous to him and the entire crowd especially your future husband watching the entire scene unfolding in front of their eyes, with their eyes about to pop and questions running through their mind as to why and what the actual fuck is going on with the bride's head?

"(Name)!" Your future mother-in-law yelled at the top of her lungs, making you flinch in surprise.

Well now that you thought of it, there's no more time-loop which means everyone here is bound to remember that you kissed the priest for your entire life, which you couldn't care any less but, how are you going to actually escape now?

—

The wedding ceremony was cancelled and the guests were sent back to their respective homes through chauffeur since well, this is a wealthy-ass mafia family we got here, folks.

And here you are standing in the center of the huge living room, still in your wedding dress and the young priest miserably forced on his knees by the guards standing on both his sides. The entire family, Sunghoon and even your dad, was also present as they all sat on the couch. It feels like you're in a serious high court right now, and you committed a treason.

You were forced to listen as Sunghoon's parents talked with your dad, disappointment and rage evident on their face as they tried to understand how and why you would do such a shameful deed on your wedding day. There, Sunghoon stood beside the couch where his parents sat, his head hanging low and his bangs covering his eyes.

Shit. Why are you feeling guilty at the man who's bound to betray you and murder you in the future? This is bullshit.

After much discussion, they decided to put the blame on the young priest instead, in which you protested, saying it was your fault but Sunghoon was adamant to save you and told you to stay quiet. “Just please shut it, (Name)!” he whisper-yelled, leaning closer to you, “Do you even know this bastard?”

You shook your head, “No, of course not!”

“The why did you fucking kiss him, like what’s going on with your damn head.” Sunghoon clenched his fist and sways it in annoyance.

Like freak, I kiss him because I don't want to get married at you.

“It was my f-fault! I must’ve have eaten something stupid that’s why I wasn’t aware-” you exclaimed, begging Sunghoon’s parents, “So please, please..”

You turned to look at the young priest whose head was hanging low and then back at Sunghoon’s parents, “Please don’t blame him for it!”

—

Darkness engulfed the entire sky, birds replaced with the cicada's cries, and the busy life of the street had just begun with the crowd going all over with their lives. While yours had finally started after getting rid of the time-loop, the young priest’s life was fated to end today as Sunghoon’s parents had ignored your pleas. Gritting your teeth as you sat in the guest's bedroom, you couldn’t possibly let this happen to him.

"Hey you, the master has ordered us to get rid of the priest." One of the guards standing in front of the cell nodded, opening the lock with the keys in his hand but in his peripheral view, he noticed something odd and so he looked up.

Blood splattered across the cell before he could see who did it, slowly falling onto his knees and the life from his eyes being sucked out. A loud thud. This alerts the rest of the guards and they immediately pulled out their gun.

And there a young man in a white suit, which is none other than the priest, slowly turns around to face the guards with fresh blood leaking down on his disinterested face. Wiping off the blood from his cheek with his sleeve, the dagger in his hand glints with the moonlight. He lazily gazed at the guards and then at the corpse beside him, his chest rose and fell in a breath of sigh — it was as if this was nothing new to him.

Clicking his tongue inside his cheek, he turned his attention back to the alerted guards in their defense form, "Let's just get over it as fast as we can, shall we?"

—

Heels echoing through the dark hallway, the young man walks as if he had no problem in the world, twirling the blood-stained dagger in his fingers. The moonlight from outside the window shines through the edges of his face stained with dry blood, his beautiful dark-colored eyes holding no soul and down to his exquisite white suit that was now painted red.

He halted his step to glance outside the window, the night was still young and it's only safe to assume that people are still awake. But it's no problem for him since he's going to send them to their sweet dreamland either way.

You shuffle around the hall outside your room, biting your nails and clicking your heels on repeat, you are in a serious dilemma as to how can you save the priest for the mistake you did? It's not even close to a mistake, because to save yourself, the price was his death — he's gonna die because of you.

"This won't do." You shook your head, lifting your gown so you can walk faster through the basement, "I have to save him."

A melodic whistle.

You halted your steps when you heard it, looking at the distance to see who it was but the dark hallway with only the lamps glowing on the carpeted floor was all you can see. Even the bright moonlight wasn't helping either, and yet the whistles were only getting closer and closer which made you step backwards in fear.

Is there even a ghost here?!

A silhouette appeared, unravelling a white piece of clothing and as you narrowed your eyes to gain a clearer view on the stranger, your breath hitched when you saw it; the white piece of clothing was none other than a white suit, a priest's attire, to be exact. And the attire was not as dazzling and pure as it used to look before for it has been tainted with red. It can't be?

The moonlight shone over the stranger's face and there you saw him, the young priest. Breath of relief washed over your entire being as you tried to approach him, "Hey– oh my god, are you okay?!"

But something weird, — the sinister aura that emits from the once-innocent looking priest and your blaring instincts stopped you as you halted your steps.

You froze.

Your suspicions were only confirmed when you saw the blood-stained dagger in the confines of his fingers, playfully twirling it as if it was a child's toy and his boba eyes that once caught your heart for a moment, had turned into a lifeless soul. Covering your mouth with your hand as your body shakes in fear, you stuttered, "W-who are you-"

"I'm very pleased to meet you once again, Miss (Name)." He gave you a warm smile which was a complete contrast to the blood leaking down on his cheek, "My name is Jungwon, and I was sent to assassinate you all at once."

The priest. That innocent and adorable young priest that blushes profusely when you kiss him, turned out to be a cold-blooded assassin?.. What the actual fuck is this.

Speechless, you struggled to make out words to say, "W-what?! What did I do?!"

"Nothing in particular, just a mistake you made which I understand wasn't your fault."

"No. No. No.” You raised your hands as if to stop him, “You must be getting your address wrong since I don’t remember where I made a mistake nor a crime! Bitch, I didn’t even kill a fly my entire life!”

"The entire Park family, including yours, must be eliminated before the sun rises. It's part of the contract and therefore I asked for you to comply, I'll make it painless and quick–"

"Oh shut up!" You screamed. This can't be true, you finally escaped from that all that time-loop, finally away from the claws of your murderous husband — all of that just to get murdered by an assassin in the end? "No but why me? Why my family? Kill him instead! We haven't even gotten married yet!"

"You're his wife and therefore you're-"

"I fucking kissed you not him! The wedding was never official!"

"Connection." Jungwon pauses as he cleans the blood from his dagger with the white towel laying on the furniture, "By the looks of it, you seem smart, you should've been well-informed that your life is no longer yours the moment you formed a connection with someone from a dangerous background."

Does he think you’re dumb? Of course you knew. But could they have at least the decency to not kill you on your wedding, especially on the day you finally escaped from the time loop?!

Shit. Shit. You gotta do something. Your eyes darting over to his back and in an instant, you raised your finger pointing behind his back.

"Look! There's a guard!" A pathetic attempt to turn his attention away from you but he didn't budge, only raising his eyebrow in confusion but were quickly replaced with amusement.

"Did you really assume I was that dumb? Are you really that dense?" Jungwon chuckles, shaking his head. "Well I guess it's safe to think so when a while back ago, you chose to kiss not your husband, but a priest."

Silence. Your face flushed red from the embarrassment, you knew it was embarrassing but the fact that he mentions makes it more embarrassing than it should.

Jungwon brushes his finger against his faint red lips, "That's a nice kiss, I have to admit." his words turned to whisper at the end, you frowned but didn't bother to ask. “Too bad, I’ll have to eliminate a pretty lady like you.”

“I don’t know if I can take that as a compliment?!” you panic, feet slowly stepping backwards as he start to close the distance between you. Your survival is your priority at this point.

“Like I said, it was your fault. You are the one who put yourself into the target list.” Jungwon sighed, twirling the dagger between his fingers, then a smile — a genuine one, adorned his face. “But don’t worry, I’ll make sure it doesn’t hurt.”

He sensed your hesitance, you were frozen with too much fear washing over your entire being. He knew that feeling very well, “I’ll give you a chance to run, my lady.”

Eh? Your eyes widened when those words left his mouth.

“In a count of 10 seconds,” He leans against the wall, stroking the dagger on his cheek as he slowly brings himself to look at you, eyes holding something genuine in it that you couldn’t comprehend what it is, “Run, my lady. And I will chase you after that.”

And that’s what you did, you ran for your life. Panting, chasing for breath as you turned to the left side of the hall, trying to search for someone or any of the guards. You could still heard him counting far from another hall, his voice echoing through the darkness — almost giving you chills.

Running for your life on your fat wedding dress, on your heels and through the dark hallways — a lame pathetic, indeed. But it’s not like you could change into another dress right now. You took a brief glance over your shoulder to see if he was there, and there he was chasing after you, you swore your face ran cold and pale, gasping for air as you shook your head in desperation. You can't die here!

A hand tugged your arms forcefully behind, pulling you to his chest but you screamed for your life, “No! No! Bitch, this is not fair, you should have given me 1 minute instead of 10 seconds!!”

You fell on your back after a dramatic attempt to kick his hands away that was tugging on your arms, he then hovered on you, pinning both your wrists on the ground. You observe as his bangs covering his dark iris that was once the adorable boba eyes, sweat leaking down his blood-stained cheek, and then his red sweet lips that you once tasted before-

Shit. Are you seriously simping to how hot this priest-turned-into-an-assassin is when you're at the brink of your death? Get hold on yourself, (Name)!

You tried to thrash around but to no avail, he was stronger and faster, ultimately succeeding in pinning you down with just one hand, leaving you to observe as he pulled his dagger and pointed it to your face. Shaking your head in desperation, tears streaming down your cheeks, you cried out begging him to let you go.

You notice the glint of hesitation in his dark colored eyes, a sense of hope forming in your heart upon seeing it, only for it to be broken with one sentence leaving his mouth, "Forgive me, my lady. It's my job and I have to complete the task given to me."

If only, if only, the time-loop still exists then you would've still survive. It's really pathetic that you faced death either way but you still wanna live, you still want to live. Think! is there a way for the time-loop restart again?

You gasped as he raised his dagger in the air, preparing to plunge it to your heart. At that point, everything moves into a slow motion as your rapid heartbeat echoes through your ear, your chest tight, fists clenching and your wrists aching with his tight grip around it.

“Don’t worry, I’ll make it quick.” Jungwon whispered as he prepared to plunge the dagger to the direction of your heart in full-force.

Heavy and rush footsteps approaching from the distance, "Hurry! The assassin is around here!"

Jungwon snapped his head to the direction where the voice came from, eyes widening in fractions as he's supposed to finish his mission in a silent and quick method, not invite the entire manor to watch like a damn spectator.

This is it. You took advantage of the situation by grabbing the dagger but to your surprise his firm was stronger as he turned his attention back at you, a smirk adorning his lips, "Not so fast, my lady." And with that, he successfully pulled the dagger away from your grip but you immediately took action by pulling your left knee, raising it up and using your entire energy to kick his chest with your heels which resulted in him falling harshly on his bottom and his head hitting the carpeted floor.

You stood up on your feet, panting as you gripped your gown up to give an easy way for your heels, and then you kicked the dagger away from his hand with your heels.

Groaning in pain, Jungwon hissed and spit the blood out. Eyes narrowing in annoyance as it shouldn't have been taking this way too long to kill a random weak girl.

He spitted the blood out, you froze as it caught your attention. Something was off. His blood-stained lips, wait. Wait. Hold on. This guy. His goddamn pretty face and his.. red lips, the same sweet taste. The wedding. Why did the time-loop disappear in the first place? It's because of the kiss! Yes, it was! But was it because of him? You had no idea. But if you do it again, would everything return back to the wedding ceremony?

But that would mean, that I'll have to kiss him again?!

"There he is!" The guard alerted the rest of his team, and one of them came Sunghoon whose face ran cold and dry as he saw the entire scene unfolding in front of him.

"(Name)!"

Shit. What's he doing here? But who fucking cares.

You immediately pulled Jungwon who was trying to grab the dagger again, to your chest and to his surprise, your face was inches away from him. Rapid heartbeat echoed through your ear as you inspected his dark-colored eyes, those freaking boba eyes and that eyelashes fluttering as he blinked in confusion. Both of you gulped at the intimate proximity, but you ignored it as you clenched his collar in your fists, he tilted his head, “Are you planning to kiss me again in front of your husband?”

Silence ensues between you both as chaos was approaching fast.

“No, I already told you, he’s not my husband.” You spat out, “And yes, mind me stealing one more kiss?”

Before Jungwon could react, you pulled him closer and crashed your lips into his. His eyes widening for the nth time while yours were shut tight, the same sweet taste from his lips mixing with yours once again. Breathing heavily as your lips were pressed together, and at that point you could feel the thud of his heartbeat.

—

Your eyes fluttered open at the sun peeking through the windows of your room, the refreshing breeze passing through the soft materials of the curtain. Wait?!

You immediately sat up, inspecting yourself if you had any injuries and to your relief, there was none. Did it actually work? You hurried to the window and looked around and saw that everything was repeating again just like a time-loop. So the kiss did work. Just who the hell is that guy? An assassin yes, but why the fuck a kiss can return the time-loop?! It might’ve just been luck. A luck that occurs twice.

Now there’s no way he would exist in this timeline for there must be something different, which means the priest has probably turned into an old man like it did before. But what’s that lingering disappointment in you? You should be happy, that freaking killer doesn’t exist now, he’s so much more dangerous than the time-loop itself.

Ruffling your hand through your hair, you sat back on the bed. A surge of happiness washed over you but a part of it was disappointment because that would mean you would have to repeat everything all over again.

Tap, tap, tap.

You don't even need to acknowledge the maids or the butler anymore, it was a routine at this point. But you can't give up, you've survive all those death up to this point so you can never give up. If you actually had the chance to overthrow the time loop before then you can do it again. Don't give up.

The entire scene on repeat for the 58th time as you walked down the aisle with your head hanging low, observing the bouquet with violet flowers in your hand and for once through all that timelines, you trace you finger over it and find it gorgeous. You knitted your eyebrows in confusion as the bouquet consists of white flowers before but you quickly ignored it as it's just a damn flowers, not that it matters anyway.

Finally halting your steps in front of your stupid future husband once again, you couldn't be bothered to look at his stupid smile because you fear you're going to punch this bouquet at his face. You didn't fail to notice his suit has changed into a white one, narrowing your eyes at the fact that the time-loop shitty thing manage to change everything but not your death.

Why did they even switch the priest to a younger one in the first place? Speaking of the devil, that goddamn pretty face.

That cat boy. You remembered him, those adorable boba eyes that turned into a sinister look when he revealed his true self, his lush black hair covering almost his eyes and especially, his sweet red lips. You wonder where is he now– you must be a certified psychopath already since you are looking for an assassin who tried to murder you in the previous timeline. What a joke.

The priest went all over the wedding stuff again, and you frown as to why the voice sounds familiar and yet you ignore it, not really bothering at this point. Sigh.

"Jungwon, do you take (Name) for your lawful wife, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do you part?"

Wait. What? You whipped your head at the priest and your jaw dropped with your eyes about to popped out, what the actual fuck is Sunghoon doing over there as a priest?! If he is there, then? Then?!

Turning your eyes to the groom, your future husband; those same hair, eyes, nose and lips. Innocence adorning his face with his eyes brimming with fondness as he looks at you, the same sweet red lips tugging up in a pretty smile.

What in the fucking time-loop is this?!

Wait. Does he remember? If Jungwon is the groom then he.. then he's the mafia's son now? Are you kidding me? The assassin sent to assassinate the entire Park family and especially you has now become their son?!

You're marrying the person who tried to assassinate you. Fuck-

Then as if something pulls him back into reality, his eyes brimming with fondness were replaced with confusion, “W-what?” Jungwon’s eyebrows were knitted in immense confusion as he looked at himself, raising his hands, turning it back and forth. And then back at you, who has the exact expression as him.

Silence.

“Why the fuck am I marrying you!?”

-> secondary blog: @llyzblog

#enha #enha imagines #enhypen #enhypen x reader #enha x reader #enhypen oneshots #enhypen scenarios #enha fanfic #yang jungwon

440 notes · View notes

darkmulti · 3 years ago

Note

Yay you’re back!! I checked your tumblr right on time muahha! Can you by any chance write yandere!vampire jungkook? Maybe with a princess reader! :D he tries to compel her, but he can’t so he ends up draining her. Idk, i just miss you hahah

⚠️: YANDERE!JUNGKOOK, PRINCESS READER

-> sorry for any mistakes

-> no smut

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

You were a human princess and he was a vampire prince

Obviously the vampires were far more powerful than the humans, however the vampires had never came near the town

Well there was one specific reason and that was because humans found a herb that was like poison to the vampires

It caused the vampires a great amount of pain so they decided to stay away from middle class and go for the poorer people because they weren’t able to afford it

For centuries, the vampire and humans have been living in “peace”

Peace meaning, not attacking each other

But your father, the king, had a brilliant idea and wanted to invite the royal vampire family for dinner

It was a very big event

People were gathered outside of the palace

You were wearing a brand new gown that your father had picked out for you and a tiara

You felt stunning

You went downstairs because the other royal family were almost here

You head downstairs and notice the large amount of guards standing outside and inside

All of them had guns loaded with the poisonous herb so that they could keep you safe if the royal family tries to attack

Two minutes later and you’re all lined up in front of the door, ready to greet the infamous royal vampires

It was just you and you’re father because your mother had passed away when you were a young girl

Finally, the royal family walks through the door

There were only three of them

The king, queen and the prince

Your father extends his hand and starts greeting them one by one

You do the same except when the prince comes to greet you, he held your hand and placed a gentle kiss on top of it

“You look breath taking in that dress.”

You smiled and blushed, “thank you”

“Come on, let’s go to the dining room.”

Your dad sat at the head of the table while the king and queen sat in front of you and the prince sat next to you

“You guys would make a great pair.”

The prince’s dad joked but received a death glare from the queen

“I’ll be damned if my son gets married to a human.”

“Mother, that is not very nice. Please behave.”

“I’m sorry. I just want the best for my son. After all, mother’s know best for there kids.” She looked at you while saying the last part, implying that you wouldn’t be “successful” because your motherless

Tension was rising high but you decided not to say anything and eat your food

You knew she was trying to get under your skin but you didn’t know why

Your dad and the other king chatted for a quite a bit while the queen sat quietly and observed her surroundings

You were quiet too but you could feel the prince’s eyes on you

“You know, now that I think of it, I never introduced myself.” He said before sitting down next to you

“Jeon Jungkook, soon to be king. What’s your name?”

“Y/FULL/N, soon to be queen.”

“I noticed some art pieces at the front… are you into art or is it your dad.”

“No, I actually bought those.”

You both started talking about art and realized you had a lot in common

After Jungkook left, he started wondering if he could live without you

Even though it was the first time he’s met you, it was an immediate connection

You were so sweet, loving, kind, caring, innocent— everything he looked for in a girl

Not to mention, you were absolutely gorgeous

The most beautiful creature he’s ever seen

For the next couple months, he began sneaking over to your house to spend time with you

The first time he did it, you thought he was out of his mind

You kept the poison herb with you just in case but the next couple of times he came, you knew that he truly meant no harm to you and actually liked you

Because you were spending so much time with him, you felt attached

You even kissed him because you didn’t want him to leave

You were affecting him in many different ways

His heart ached every time he had to leave

Not only that but your blood smelled so good too

It was getting harder to resist

He just wanted to taste you and mark you as his

A year and a half had gone by and he started visiting you left often which made you sad

You thought he’d found someone else but never asked because you were shy

Jungkook wasn’t meeting up with anyone, he’s just afraid that he won’t be able to stop himself from attacking you

He promised himself that he wouldn’t hurt you but…

Unfortunately, he couldn’t keep his word

He tried compelling you but when it didn’t work, you began freaking out

“Jungkook, what’re you talking about? You want to hurt me?”

“No, I don’t want to! I just can’t control myself.”

Of course compulsion didn’t work on you

Your royal blood!

Since you already knew Jungkook’s plan, he decided to do it by force

You screamed as he plunged his teeth into your neck and sucked you dry

Your legs gave up and you fainted but Jungkook caught you and gently laid you on the floor

You tasted so good and looked gorgeous underneath him

He caressed your cheek, removing his teeth from your neck and bringing his face up to yours

He leaned down and kissed you so gently, pushing the hair out of your face

“So beautiful” he whispered, unable to take his eyes off your face

A couple minutes pass and he gets up to leave, planning on never showing his face again because he was ashamed of hurting the one he loved the most

As he’s walking to the door, he hears your faint heartbeat

He knows he’ll get into trouble if he brings you back to the kingdom

But he couldn’t bring himself to leave you either

He tried stepping out of the house but as he got closer to the door, your heartbeat would only get louder in his ears

And your face wouldn’t get out of his head

He hesitated but still turned around and picked you up being running out of the palace, back to his own

He’ll take whatever punishment he gets

As long as he’s able to keep you safe with him

#yandere jungkook #jungkook yandere #bts yandere #yandere bts #bts reactions #bts yandere reaction

241 notes · View notes

thegreymoon · 3 years ago

Text

Monarch Industry

Yes, my smart baby! Investigate him!

***

Oh, Awu 😢

***

Yes, baby, expose them!

***

This poor baby, I’m afraid to watch 😬

***

This woman remains hilarious, truly, a comedy queen!

OF COURSE SHE DOESN’T TRUST YOUR SCHEMING, SELF-SERVING, MURDEROUS ASS.

***

And you are the prime example.

***

So, Wang Su went back on his word to intervene and have the physician lie, lmao.

***

Oh, shut up.

Her treachery is one thing, but her stupidity is entirely another.

***

Yes. Time for you to stop cosplaying as a princess.

It is interesting, even when she was made Su Guifei, it was such a farce. It all felt stolen and temporary and everyone knew it, from the nobles to the servants.

***

Just you watch Awu save her for the sake of that baby.

***

You wanted to live another woman’s life, and that can only lead to bitterness, misery and disappointment.

I understand her pathology so very well. She lived in Awu’s shadow all her life and was weak and flawed. But at a certain point, we all make choices, and instead of appreciating what she was given, she let her wanting and her envy distort her.

***

Of course.

I approve, though. Su Jin-er was terrible, but how do you kill a woman who just gave birth and leave a newborn motherless if you can prevent it?

***

SHIT IS ABOUT TO HIT THE FAN!!

***

So much for house arrest, LMAO 🤣🤣

The guards barely even tried!

***

The best part about this entire exchange is Wen Zongshen’s “I’m surrounded by idiots” face 🤣🤣

Poor man, he looks so defeated 🤣🤣 He was truly born to suffer!

***

@orsuliya is this the fake public fight that you told me they would have?

They did say they wanted to put on a show to see who crawls out, after all.

***

Get out of the city, yes!

***

Yup, farce confirmed sooner than I expected! I love this show for not dragging anything out. They just deal with stuff as it comes and MOVE ON.

***

Zitan is so done with life.

Not only is he incompetent as an emperor and a human being in general, his wife gave birth to another man’s baby, plus he was humiliated and had all his misdeeds exposed by his greatest enemy. I wouldn’t want to be him.

***

You think? 🙄🙄

***

LMAO, he now wants to abdicate his throne in favour of Xiao Qi 🤣🤣 My, my, how the tables have turned.

#zhou yiwei #zhang ziyi #monarch industry #mi spoilers #mi ep65 #mi ep66

25 notes · View notes

atopvisenyashill · 3 months ago

Text

@maegorsbignaturals ya that’s one of the ones i like too, that he basically said “have this baby for me and i’ll introduce you at court as a personal guard to my daughter/mother/whoever a la jonquil darke so you don’t have to marry robert and so you can be close to the kid if you want” and lyanna figured “fuck it he came all the way north to offer me this, he HAS to be genuine” and went for it (altho it’s also like. there’s no way this plan would have worked. even if rhaegar assumes the kid will come out mostly valyrian looking, he’s going to have some massive pushback from both the starks & baratheons not to mention explaining why he’s raising his motherless bastard at court! but i can see a 16 year old not really thinking that far, and rhaegar just not caring enough to hash out the details). i’d love if all the stuff about lyanna being a the mystery knight & riding a horse & learning to fight winds up pointing not to her being this sort of manic pixie esque tomboy perfect for rhaegar but instead her ACTUALLY being a proto arya who had no interest in ANY of the men around her bc none of them truly saw her for who she was.

my pet theory here however is that rhaegar a) learned about the song of ice and fire (whatever the hell it is in book canon!!!!) and b) told lyanna what he knew to convince her to leave. if he had some sort of proof, a scroll, that goddamn dagger, whatever, that he showed her, with arthur vouching for him, and basically says “look at the false spring - winter is coming and if there aren’t three heads of the dragon, it won’t ever leave, and spring will never come again” and THATS what convinces her. feeling like it’s the end of the world, being a stark and already a little superstitious about the concept of the long night, and deciding to go with him and help in any way she can, with the promise that he’ll protect her reputation somehow.

but crucially, in both of these scenarios, she does not love that man because i just don’t understand why she WOULD in the end!!!! a 16 year old imo is old enough to be like “you say you’ll protect me from my marriage but how are you supposed to do that if everyone knows i had your bastard???” like we all know i’m number one lyanna defender here but that question just NEVER coming up or his answer being “well i’ll marry you too” is crazy there’s no way lyanna, with everything we know about her, wouldn’t call bullshit on that!

the thing about rhaelya is that i can almost understand it from rhaegar’s pov. he must know his parents didn’t want to marry, and i’m sure watching his mother’s misery get worse over the years, being unable to do anything to stop his father from hurting her, thinking about how she was so much happier & brighter when he was a child and all that’s left now is this weeping woman with bruises all over her body bc she was forced to marry a man she didn’t want to marry, and then seeing lyanna, this bright eyed, stubborn ass, beautiful girl who stood up to some aint shit men AND his father (even if the second part was accidental) and then finding out she too is destined for a marriage to a man she doesn’t want…feeling like maybe he can save her from it somehow….give her options outside of robert or running away forever…..the thing is what in the fuck does LYANNA see in him????

#replies #maegorsbignaturals #lyanna stark

36 notes · View notes

stanakin96 · 4 years ago

Text

The High Crown - Obikin Royalty AU

True love or the crown? A question Anakin thought he'd never have to answer.

Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25884949/chapters/62899801

Summary: Every eye in the Kingdom of Tatooine is on their young prince, Anakin Skywalker, as he goes into an arranged marriage in order to claim his place as king. However, Anakin finds himself wishing things were different when he meets the dashing knight, Obi-Wan Kenobi. A connection is forged between the two men in the shadows, and thus, a burning attraction they simply cannot ignore. Love, secrecy, and lies all fall into the path of the young Prince Skywalker as he makes his way to his rightful place as king.

ch 1 & 2 under and on a03 <3

Chapter one - Prologue

In the land of Tatooine, a large country surrounded by sea and forest, there once lived a young prince called Anakin. He was devastating and gorgeous, often pretending he was not a prince, but a knight instead. He liked the workers more than his cousins, he hid in the kitchen cabinets to avoid his responsibilities, and often found himself in all sorts of trouble.

“Anakin, I know you’re in here,” called out Qui-Gon, a member of the royal guard who had elected to watch over Anakin.

“I know you don’t want to do this your grace,” Qui-Gon said, laying eyes on the young prince, at last.

It was the morning of his mother’s funeral. Anakin was roughly eleven, twelve if you directly asked him. Qui-Gon picked up a piece of bread that had been reserved for the funeral, broke it in half, and sat down at the table with the young prince. He handed him a slice, to which he took with suspicion.

“What if it gets on my funeral clothes?” Anakin asked, already taking a bite. Qui-Gon felt poorly for the boy, knowing that this day would likely live in his memory forever. Not as a son who’d lost his mother, but as the young, expectation-laden prince of Tatooine. Qui-Gon took a bite before replying.

“Then we’ll both have crumbs, I suppose.” Anakin quietly laughed at Qui-Gon, who was grateful more than anything to see him smile. After a moment’s rest, the two stood up and Anakin paced closely behind Qui-Gon. He didn’t want to go to the funeral reception but would follow Qui-Gon anywhere he said to. Even before his mother had passed away, Qui-Gon had always taken care of him.

Without ever admitting it- Anakin was terrified.

He’d liked his mother very much. She had long, brown hair, always smelled of fruit, and knew exactly how to make him feel better. She didn’t see him as anything other than a boy, which Anakin greatly struggled with when finding worthwhile companions.

Anakin did all but take Qui-Gon’s had as they walked out to the courtyard, where the funeral reception was being held. He did the rounds with the general, begrudgingly saying hello to various royal representatives. He received wet, perfumed hugs from women he did not know, aggressive handshakes from tall, intimidating men. If everything had gone his way, he would have run off with Poe, a worker’s son that Anakin revered as his one and only friend close to his age.

After walking around with Qui-Gon, Anakin eventually grew tired and slipped away, anxious to get to his favorite hiding spot on the castle grounds. He ran up the cobblestone stairs to the tallest point in the castle, where archers and guards used to patrol while members of the royal family still lived there. Anakin reached the top, breath heavy from running and body warm from his heavy funeral clothing. He went directly to his spot at the ledge of the roof when he saw him, a boy.

The young prince quickly hid behind a pillar, hoping that the sound of his footsteps hadn’t alerted the stranger of his presence. He peered from behind the object, careful so that he would not see him. He was far older than Anakin, appearing to be eighteen at the very youngest. He had long, blond hair that hugged his face, and had perched himself at the edge, dangling his legs and looking down at the reception.

“You might come and talk with me if it would please you,” he said, his voice smooth and low. Anakin could feel something in his chest when he heard him but couldn’t quite place his finger on it. He’d never felt so nervous, not even when he’d spoken to adults.

The boy stood up, a solid foot and a half above Anakin. He wore a tight, black shirt and pants, he held out his hand to Anakin, “I’m Obi-Wan Kenobi.”

Anakin stood there, unable to move at the closeness of the stranger. He jerked out his hand to shake Obi-Wan’s, whose long fingers surrounded all of his hand. This interaction only made the young prince more nervous, as the feeling of Obi-Wan’s warm, strong hand around him made him feel odd. Perhaps he’d been stung by something or waved his hand too close to a lit candle.

“I’m Anakin,” he replied, softly, knowing that Obi-Wan’s entire demeanor would change once he knew who he was. A blip of silence filled the space between the two boys while Anakin waited for the inevitable, he looked down at his shoes.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Anakin. Would you like to sit with me?” Obi-Wan asked. Anakin looked up at him, still silent at the never-ending pressure of the boy’s attention.

Obi-Wan smiled at Anakin, “we don’t even have to talk if won’t have it, I promise,” Anakin quickly nodded at him, shocked at how normally he was being treated.

Usually, when people realized who he was; the motherless, pathetic Prince of Tatooine, they treated him like a glass object to be gawked at in a display case. Obi-Wan made him feel like just a boy. Nervous, but a boy none the less. The two walked toward the edge in silence and sat down only a few inches from each other, legs dangerously hanging off the edge.

“Are you a knight?” Anakin asked, looking up at Obi-Wan.

He smiled at the young prince, “I’m training to be one, actually,” Obi-Wan replied.

Anakin sighed loudly, “they won’t let me be a knight. What’s your training like?�� Obi-Wan laughed quietly, his warm breath puffing clouds into the air before he began explaining to Anakin the going-abouts of his day.

Anakin smiled back at him; nobody he’d met before at any royal event had ever treated him so normally, made him feel quite so seen.

The pair talked until the reception was over, going back and forth from Anakin asking questions to Obi-Wan answering them, trying to change the subject, and Anakin immediately going back to his Knighthood. Anakin was sad when his new friend had to leave, save that he knew very little about him, and had only interacted with him for a few hours.

However, as the days progressed, Anakin couldn’t help but wonder about him when he saw the statues of armor lining the hallways. He couldn’t help it as thoughts of Obi-Wan Kenobi, the knight in training, filled empty spaces in his mind as time and time went by.

Eight years passed as the country of Tatooine watched the young prince grow up. Every eye was on Anakin as he approached his twentieth birthday, the year he would take his mother’s spot as ruler of Tatooine. Whether or not he would like it, twenty would also be the year he was to be married.

He sat across from Qui-Gon as he had so many times before while they ate a quiet breakfast. Poe, Anakin’s valet, usually joined them. However, today he would be with the rest of the castle workers arranging for the visitors that would be arriving later in the day.

“You needn’t be nervous,” Qui-Gon said, bringing his usual cup of coffee up to his lips while he waited on Anakin to take anything more than a bite from his meal.

“I’ve never met her,” Anakin stopped and took a sip of his water, “Padmé.”

“Your betrothed?” Qui-Gon asked, witnessing Anakin’s body recoil in nerves at the statement.

“She’s not my betrothed,” Anakin said, wary of how bratty he must have sounded. He’d known this day was coming his entire life, it was not as though he’d gone unprepared for the day he’d enter into his arranged engagement. Which was a simpler way of describing an arranged marriage. Anakin wrapped his fingers around his cup and tapped the glass with his nails, “why do they call it an arranged engagement rather than an arranged marriage?”

Qui-Gon lifted his eyebrow at Anakin, “I know your tutors have explained this to you,” he took a final sip of his coffee. “Your royal advisors are not against you, they want you to be happy, so they have provided several months for you to get to know Padmé before you enter into a marriage.”

“Is the illusion of choice better than the discomfort of being forced to do something General?” Anakin asked, throwing his head back in his chair and pouting. Before Qui-Gon could get another word in, they heard a loud knocking at the kitchen door.

Poe walked into the room, dressed in his nicest clothing and dark hair gelled back. He looked at Anakin angrily, “do you not care what you look like when you meet the Princess of Naboo your highness?”

Anakin stood up to respond to him, knowing that he would soon be taken away to get ready with Poe. He stopped him, putting a hand on his shoulder and shaking his head, “don’t bother, come with me.” Anakin shot a quick wave at Qui-Gon as he left with Poe to get ready.

He stood in front of a tall mirror that was propped against the wall in his room as Poe slipped his jacket over his large shoulders. Anakin looked at himself, confused, wondering how it was he was allowed to be wearing clothing that looked like this. It was the coat of one of his uncles, he’d recognized it from the paintings in the hallway. It was a dark, velvet jacket with stamps of ornate designs rolling up the sleeves, so intricate that he looked as though he’d been steeped in gold. He furrowed his brow, questioning the judgment of whoever had allowed him to look so grown-up.

“Are you well your grace?” Poe asked, taking a comb to his hair briefly, knowing that Anakin would swipe it away in a matter of moments.

“I’m very well,” he responded, staying still so that Poe could fix the crown on his head. It was the only one he liked; small, brass-colored, and more reminiscent of his mother’s than anything that had been made for him. “Thank you,” he said, looking up at Poe.

Anakin was more than capable of getting himself dressed, but valued the time spent with Poe. There was also the fact that he could somehow never replicate how he felt when Poe dressed him with anybody but him. He’d been his only friend, save Qui-Gon, ever since he could remember.

“Are you ready, Prince Skywalker?” Poe asked, his use of Anakin’s formal title making him laugh. He always knew how to bring out the best of him.

“I suppose,” Anakin replied, admiring the designs on his coat, considering wearing it every day of the week that he was allowed. He stepped out into the hallway en route to the Grand Foyer, where Princess Amidala would be waiting to be formally introduced to Anakin, who was doing his best to calm his nervous heart. Something about today felt so different, he hadn’t quite felt like this since before. Like he was standing on the precipice of something that would change his world forever. After all, his marriage to Padmé would be the catalyst to his reign as King of Tatooine, a role he’d been preparing for his entire life.

He stopped at the double doors, where Qui-Gon was waiting for him. He wore his formal military attire; a look Anakin only saw at balls. As the retired General of the Tatooine royal guard, Qui-Gon was well decorated. The sound of trumpets echoed through the lonely hallway as Anakin walked through the room, Poe trailing at his coat like a guard dog.

Anakin opened his mouth to greet the princess, but found himself caught on a word the moment he saw her; Padmé Amidala.

She was beautiful, dark brown hair tied up in an intricate braid, a light blue ballgown draping off her shoulders like it would be a crime if anybody wore it other than her. She was stunning, encapsulating, and the object of Anakin’s undivided attention; had it not been for the man standing next to her.

“Good morning, princess,” Anakin said, taking her hand and placing a warm kiss on her knuckles. Anakin could feel his face growing red, and not at the closeness of the princess. He was sick under the attention of the soldier she had at her side, was everyone from Naboo gorgeous? Anakin wondered, and have I seen this man before?

“Good morning, Prince Skywalker,” she replied with a quick curtsy, “it’s a pleasure to finally meet you.” Anakin did his best to move his gaze to Padmé.

“Yes, and the same to you,” he replied, choking on his words. He’d never been so inarticulate before in his life. But he couldn’t stop looking at him, the soldier with the dark blonde hair. He was clad in white and gold armor that showed off his cut muscles and frankly, regal posture.

“This is the General of my royal guard, Obi-Wan Kenobi,” Anakin let out a repressed laugh that sounded more like a cough.

“Kenobi, your highness?” Anakin cleared his throat, “Obi-Wan Kenobi?”

“That is what she just said, your grace,” Poe whispered into Anakin’s ear.

The General of the Naboo royal guard held out his hand, “it’s a pleasure, your highness.”

Anakin reached his hand out to shake it, feeling his body shoot back in place at the feeling of Obi-Wan’s fingers touching his, wrapped around him. He’d gotten taller and stronger since Anakin’s mother’s funeral, but no less captivating.

“The pleasure is all mine,” Anakin replied, failing to take his gaze off of the General. He felt Poe kick at his heels, bringing him back to life. Padmé awkwardly laughed, doing her best to remain collected in an already tense situation.

“We will join you tonight for dinner, Princess,” Qui-Gon said, bowing to her and motioning for Anakin to leave. Anakin and Poe bowed as well, their short-lived interaction with Padmé Amidala coming to an abrupt end.

Surely the meeting was meant to last longer than all of two minutes, but Anakin was embarrassing the country of Tatooine with his behavior. Even after he was out of sight, his mind could only focus on General Kenobi.

“Have you been stabbed, your grace?” Poe said, throwing his hands in the air at Anakin the moment the double doors closed.

Anakin shook his head, eyes focused on the ground. He hadn’t thought of Obi-Wan Kenobi for years and was positive the knight didn’t remember him at all.

“The General will come to dinner tonight,” Anakin said, hungry to know more.

He walked past Qui-Gon and Poe, knowing that they would pester him about his behavior and do their best to coach him into acting better, which he was well capable of. Anakin would act better, be charming, and formal as a good prince should be to a princess.

However, until then, he’d hoard his excitement to see Obi-Wan in his warm palms. He continued to his quarters, thinking back to the day of his mother’s funeral. He disregarded the calls of an exasperated Poe as a small, a secret smile began to line his lips.

Chapter 2 – Enchanted

Anakin found himself dreaming of him, The General Obi-Wan Kenobi.

Some dreams unremarkable and some that gripped his chest tight enough to rip him out of sleep. He’d had one in particular that’d plagued him on the fourth anniversary of his mother’s funeral.

The setting was always the same, the two were joined together at the ledge of the castle, their feet off the edge, neither looking at the other. Except, Anakin wasn’t the scared, small eleven-year-old anymore. He was fifteen, he was older and had grown taller, bigger. Obi-Wan always looked the same no matter how many years had passed. Gorgeous, sun reflecting off his blonde hair and making it look like perhaps it was sparkling.

Neither boy would talk to the other, and the dream always ended at the same point. Anakin would turn to Obi-Wan and ask him to stay with him.

The ending would never change, either.

Obi-Wan would reach his hand over and place his palm on top of Anakin’s fingers. Anakin could feel the warmth of his skin as though he’d physically touched them himself. Anakin would fold his fingers into his, taking the older boy’s hand. It would be enough to jolt Anakin awake, his body drenched in sweat and leading to a sleepless night.

He recalled every moment of his pained, long dreams about Obi-Wan as Poe helped him dress for dinner. He couldn’t quite place why he’d dreamt about the general so much. Or why someone he’d only met once, and for a few hours, had such an intense lasting impression on him.

“You’re awfully quiet prince,” Poe remarked, sitting on a small stool in front of Anakin. “Is it the General?” Poe asked, raising his eyebrow at Anakin.

“What should you mean by that?” Anakin started, before Poe interrupted him.

“You used to look at me that way,” Poe said, smiling up at him.

It was true, the pair had a complicated history. Poe was the first person Anakin ever had feelings for, besides Obi-Wan. They’d had a brief affair that ended in true friendship, as Anakin’s title would never allow him to marry outside the monarchy. Though, Poe taught Anakin nearly everything he knew about courtship- talking, kissing, almost everything.

“Just make me look dashing as always,” Anakin requested, a wicked smile peeking out from the side of his smirk. “And not for the General, for my betrothed.”

Poe hummed, motioning his hands to Anakin for him to stand up. He started to roll his sleeves back down to his wrists. “You shouldn’t fool me for a moment, my prince,” said Poe, pining a gold circle into the cuff of his jacket.

He’d dressed Anakin in a dark green jacket, one of his favorites to prepare him for the dinner. Nothing quite helped the young prince feel better than a well-tailored suit. He would need it to face them both, his childhood obsession and his soon to be bride.

“Just remember as I taught you, your grace,” Qui-Gon said as he escorted Anakin down to the dining room. They could not have a repeat of this morning, where Anakin had to be honorably removed from the Grand Foyer due to his incompetence around Obi-Wan Kenobi.

“I swear to do better, Qui-Gon,” Anakin replied, placing a hand on his large shoulder, “though I’d feel much better if you joined us.”

Qui-Gon shot a small, careful smile at Anakin, “I believe you to have far more friends than you can handle, at the moment, prince.”

Qui-Gon opened the gold-crested double doors for Anakin, releasing him into the dining room. Until now, the grand, decorated table had been bitterly out of use. Since Anakin’s mother had passed, there was seldom any kind of gathering that merited so many placemats. Anakin wondered how the castle workers were able to remove eight years of dust in one night.

He scoured the many seats that were available, running an index finger over the decorated, ornate ridges that lined the top of the chairs. Anakin chose a seat in the middle, one that would face Padmé. He ignored the head of the table, feeling all too peculiar about taking the seat he’d last seen his mother sit in. His palms went clammy at the thought of her; he wished that she could be his side more than anything, that night.

“Princess,” Anakin said, standing up immediately as Padmé entered the room.

She looked stunning, not to Anakin’s surprise. She wore a long, pink dress that showed off her arms, making them look soft and dipped in glitter. He smiled at her, offering his hand across the table and pressing a cold kiss to her knuckles. She sat down at the seat facing Anakin, General Kenobi following closely behind and sitting next to her.

Anakin sat back down at his seat, awkwardly. He’d grown taller and bigger than he’d liked, which meant he struggled finding places that his arms did not feel cramped. He thought it was quite un-prince-like of him. Padmé and Obi-Wan filed into their seats and exchanged a quick whisper. Anakin felt a smooth pang of jealousy, though unsure who the jealousy was placed for.

Conversation presumed as normal, exchanging formal pleasantries about their nights. Obi-Wan kept quiet, as though he was merely a statue on the wall instead of a person at the table.

“Would you tell me about your childhood, your highness?” Padmé asked, pulling a glass of water up to her perfectly lined lips.

Anakin laughed into his cup of water. Not at all that his childhood was a topic of humor, but more that he always found the subject of his late mother as the most interesting of dinner conversations.

He held up the empty wine glass in front of him, imagining that he would need more than just water to get through the night. One of the cooks quickly filled it halfway with a dark red liquid. Anakin shot a quick glance at general Kenobi, who was still clad in his gold and white uniform.

“My mother raised me in the firm belief that fathers were not necessary figures of the household. She was a fine queen and an even better mother.” he brought the glass up to his lips and took a sip. “Though, passed away when I was very young.”

Obi-Wan awkwardly folded his hands together in front of them, Anakin couldn’t help but imagine what they looked like underneath his gloves. He questioned if his knuckles went white when his hand was in a fist, if scars decorated his fingertips.

“I’m so sorry my lord,” Padmé quipped in her bird-like princess voice. She couldn’t help but be good and genuine in everything she did.

“It’s all well princess, I have grown well and passed it. There was a lovely funeral I remember fondly,” Anakin said, Obi-Wan folded his hands tighter.

Anakin took another sip, his gaze still locked onto the young General. He thought, for a moment, that Obi-Wan had been looking at him. He should’ve, if Anakin was talking about his mother’s funeral. He’d expected some sort of physical reaction from Obi-Wan, something to signal to Anakin that he’d without a doubt been the boy at the top of the castle.

“I believe your General was there,” Anakin said, already feeling a light dizziness grow in his head. Obi-Wan set his glass on the table. The tension at the dinner was so palpable Anakin could have taken a knife and popped it like a bubble.

“I beg your pardon, your highness,” Obi-Wan replied, with more words than Anakin had heard him use in his entire time at the castle. It threw a bolt into Anakin’s throat, hearing the young General call him by his title.

“You heard me correctly, General, I believe I met you once my mother’s funeral reception, unless I am to be wrong,” Anakin said, continuing to drink. He could feel the panic that was no doubt settling into Qui-Gon from all the way across the castle.

Obi-Wan looked over at Padmé as if to ask for permission from the princess to reply to Anakin.

“I apologize, you must have me mistaken, Prince Skywalker,” Obi-Wan said, his accent thick and smooth like velvet, “I am a soldier, I’m afraid I’d never be invited to the funeral of a queen.”

Anakin felt a burning rage pill inside of him under the burning lens of Obi-Wan’s eye contact.

Or was it something else?

He wondered, his chest fluttering like a caged bird. He took another drink.

“The apology is all mine, General Obi-Wan Kenobi,” he replied, careful to enunciate every vowel, as though to signal to the General that he knew he was lying. Anakin was never wrong and would especially not be wrong about something like this.

The rest of the dinner carried on awkwardly, as Padmé would attempt to make conversation and Anakin would deflect it immediately. He’d never caved like this before, but under the undying attention of the Naboo royal circle, he couldn’t help but neglect up every word that came through his mouth.

Despite his interaction with Obi-Wan during the middle of the meal, he found himself undeniably drawn to the young General. He watched him eat, drink, breathe.

Anakin wondered, carelessly, how it felt to be the wine at the back of the General’s throat.

He pushed his knees together under the table, foolishly fearing that anybody could read his thoughts.

“Tonight was quite pleasant, prince. Will I be in your presence tomorrow?” Padmé asked, standing at the double doors with Anakin.

The dinner had not been as pleasant as Anakin had hoped. However, any moment was made infinitely sweeter in Padmé’s presence. Anakin breathed in a long sigh of her perfume and took the Princesses’ hand, doing his best to rip his mind away from her young General.

“Tomorrow princess,” he replied, bringing her small fingers up to his mouth.

He liked Padmé, there was no doubt concerning his affections for her. She was beautiful and kind, it was only the fault of Anakin that he be so distracted at the company of her General. He heard a quick shut of one of the back doors to of the dining room, Obi-Wan’s absence already penetrating the room.

Padmé smiled at Anakin as she left down the hallway, her pretty teeth peering through an utterly tiny mouth. Anakin watched her leave, and not to look at her any longer, but to realize exactly the moment he could go looking for Obi-Wan.

Anakin searched the hallway for any sight of him, feeling foolish beyond his years that he couldn’t locate someone in his own castle. He nearly gave up his search for Obi-Wan when he caught the feintest smell of his cologne. It was enough to stop him in his tracks; the dark, cedar and amber smell that he recognized from his childhood. He’d stopped in the middle of one of the corridors when the General peered around the corner, stopping in place as well when he saw Anakin.

“Obi-Wan,” Anakin blurted out, the wine having obviously gone to his head for not referring to him by his formal title.

He pressed a few fingers to his forehead, a headache already brewing. Anakin stepped on his coat as he approached closer to the general.

“Tell me you remember me, I know you do,” Anakin breathed, heavily.

Obi-Wan looked around, careful to check if Padmé or anybody of the sort was nearby. He walked toward Anakin, soon enough only a few inches away from his face. Obi-Wan was always taller, in Anakin’s mind. He’d taken off his gloves since dinner, Anakin had to stop himself from staring at the General’s hands.

“I-“ Obi-Wan stopped, closed his mouth and looked down at his shoes. Anakin was careful to keep his breath soft and quiet at his apparent closeness. “I haven’t the faintest your highness, my greatest apologies.”

“I don’t believe you,” Anakin remarked, the disguise of angst and frustration fading at Obi-Wan’s closeness. In anger he’d pushed a hand up against the wall next to Obi-Wan’s face and cornered the General, close enough to feel the heat of his body. Anakin suddenly felt a pool of anxiety rise at the bottom of his stomach, as he realized how close he was to the general.

“My apologies gneral,” Anakin replied, backing away. quickly His leather shoes clicked on the hardwood floor in the obvious, painful silence they shared. “The wine must have gotten to my head.”

Obi-Wan curled his fingers into a fist and then uncurled them, Anakin watched painstakingly. The General walked towards Anakin’s direction but not to him, undoubtedly, to retire to his bedroom for the night.

“The apology is mine. Goodnight, Prince,” Obi-Wan said, finally.

However, as he walked away, Obi-Wan’s knuckles softly brushed Anakin’s hand. Anakin quietly gasped, feeling his stomach tie into a series of sailor’s knots. It had only been for a moment, a quiet, fleeting second where their hands were touching, but a moment, nonetheless. Ungloved, warm and rough.

He listened to Obi-Wan’s steps as he walked up the stairs and to his quarters, leaving Anakin alone in the sepia-tinted nighttime of the castle. He lifted his right hand, the one that Obi-Wan had brazenly touched and held it to his lips. And thought, perhaps, he had passed away and was doomed to an eternity of standing in the space where he had first touched Obi-Wan’s hand.

The country of Tatooine on a late summer’s day was Anakin Skywalker’s favorite kind of afternoon. It was hot, warm enough for him to roam the castle grounds. He often did this alone, or with Poe. However, today was the exception. He walked the gilded hedge mazes with Padmé Amidala today.

The white sun bounced off her shiny hair like a reflection in water, she wore an orange dress that draped off her shoulders and down to her feet. Prettiest of all, he thought, were the small, golden rhinestones that glittered her eyelids.

Anakin thought she was beautiful; and she was the undeniable object of everyone’s affections had it not been for the quiet footsteps of General Kenobi.

The two had not spoken since their encounter after dinner. Anakin, in fact, had seldom even made eye contact with the young General. He couldn’t, lest he be burned into a pit of ashes at the mere flinch of Obi-Wan’s eyesight. For whatever reason, Anakin couldn’t breathe as long as he was in Obi-Wan’s presence. A man he’d not even known for all of one week.

Yet, he could not escape the memory of being eleven years old and a young, dashing Obi-Wan telling him about his training. From Anakin’s adolescence, the ever-persistent figure of a Knight in shining armor took the figure of a beautiful, blonde, Obi-Wan Kenobi. He couldn’t let himself revel in the fairy-tale of it all. There would be no happy ending. Not while the General persistently stood a solid five-foot distance from the prince, and not while he was engaged to the Princess of Naboo.

Anakin Skywalker did not know, however, the blip of danger he stood in on the sunniest day of the year. Anakin reached over to a rose bush, looking for a flower to give to Padmé. Danger, a man in the shadows, moved forward as Anakin found himself blissfully unaware, and his back seemingly unwatched.

He drew his bow and pointed it directly at Anakin.

“Prince!” Cried out Obi-Wan in desperation, as the General had spotted the man right as they’d shot a steel, sharp arrow in Anakin’s direction. Devoted to keeping him safe, Obi-Wan threw his body toward the young Prince, tackling him to the ground as the arrow shot right above them and into a neighboring tree.

Anakin looked up at Obi-Wan, his hands shaking in adrenaline. Obi-Wan had saved him, he’d been attacked.

“Th- thank you,” Anakin stuttered, finding it difficult to get a word out. Obi-Wan, who’d still had Anakin’s wrists pinned to the ground, looked back at the Prince, eyes fearful but relieved that Anakin was okay.

“Of course, my Lord,” Obi-Wan said, also finding it difficult to speak normally in the light of current events.

Though Anakin had only been inches away from a bloody, arrow-wrought death, the one persistent thought on his mind did not sit with the attacker.

His brain did not collect in fear over the fact that he’d almost just been killed, or if he was still in danger. Unfortunately, obviously, the ever-present object of his impervious thoughts was with how close Obi-Wan had been to his lips, and the fire-catching feeling of the General’s fingers holding tight to his skin.

#obikin fic #obikin fanfiction #anakin x obi wan #obikin #obikin royalty au #my writing #obikin fanfic #anibobi fic

52 notes · View notes

songtoyou · 4 years ago

Text

Tolerate It - Prologue

Paring: Modern!Tommy Shelby x Original Female Character

Story Rating: R

Word Count: 1,182

Warnings: Mentions death of spouse.

Description: Tommy Shelby is the owner and CEO of Shelby Company Limited. Starting out as a Bookmaker, Tommy had big ideas to expand his riches. In the past ten years, the company has grown rapidly to expand its business ventures from bars to producing alcohol, manufacturing motor vehicle parts, and exporting. One of the richest men in Great Britain, Tommy Shelby, has it all. Unfortunately, the death of his wife, Grace, left the multi-millionaire mogul alone and depressed. He needed someone to fulfill his needs and deepest darkest desires.

A/N: I have fallen in love with Tommy Shelby. He is one of the most interesting and complex television I have seen in a long time. He is fascinating. So much so that I needed to write about him. This fic is a take on a modern version of Tommy Shelby and the Peaky Blinders. Also, this fic does include an original character, which will be one of the main characters.

Note: Italics represent the past or past conversations.

Feedback is wonderful. It is nice knowing if people actually like this fic. I do not permit my work to be posted on any other site without my permission.

Control. That is all Thomas ‘Tommy’ Shelby wanted in life. Absolute control. He would do anything to get it. Anything to maintain it.

His need to control everything only heightened after the death of his wife, Grace. Her passing was sudden that left everyone in the Shelby and Burgess family shocked and devastated. The cancer diagnosis crept up on Grace. Tommy sought out every cancer doctor across the world to assist Grace in her recovery. Money was no issue to him when it came to curing his beloved wife. Despite all of the treatments and surgeries, her cancer continued to spread throughout her body.

When the doctors’ told Grace and Tommy that she did not have much time left, both were left at a standstill. Neither planned for this…at least not yet. They were still a young married couple with a young child. The last thing Grace wanted to do was leave her child, Charlie, motherless and her husband a widow. However, she did her best to maintain a brave front for the two most important men in her life. Grace worked with Tommy’s sister, Ada, to get everything prepared from the funeral to her will in testaments and other necessary items to close up.

Grace wanted everything ready for when the time came. Unfortunately, no matter how much she prepared for her death, she knew that nothing would fill the void that was going to be left in her absence. Her main worry was not herself but her husband and child. She worried how both would cope with her no longer being around.

She already knew Tommy would busy himself with work to keep his mind occupied. That is what he does when he wants to avoid the bigger issues in his life.

“Thomas, please promise me that you won’t be an absentee father to Charlie. Promise me that you will make time for him…he needs you more than ever, especially after…”

“Stop,” Tommy interrupted Grace. The last thing he wanted was to talk about life without Grace. He was already in the denial stage of grief. A tiny part of him hoped Grace would magically recover. It was the one thing he prayed for at night as she lay in his arms.

He looked at Grace... he really looked at her. She was so thin and pale. Her cheekbones more pronounce. Her once blonde tendrils were no replaced with a cropped pixie style once her hair grew back. But her eyes were still radiant.

To Tommy, Grace was still the most beautiful woman in the world. She always would be. She was his angel. And he hated that he was going to lose his earth angel.

“I don’t want to talk about it. I don’t want to talk about…about your dying. I…I can’t do it,” he said to Grace. He did his best to hold his composure, but his strong exterior was crumbling.

Grace reached for Tommy’s hand to comfort him and say, “Yes, you can, Thomas. You will do it because Charlie needs you. I know you won’t let him down as your father let you down. But you need to make sure that you don’t let the voices in her head get in your way of being the amazing father I know you are. You can’t control everything, darling. You have to let things go the way they are supposed to go. You will drive yourself mad. Let down your guard, especially with Charlie. Let someone into your heart after I am gone. It is okay to love another, Thomas. You deserve love.”

Tommy shook his head to disagree with his wife. “I don’t, though. I’m not a good person, Grace. You know that…my past, present, and future. Nothing is going to change. You are the only one who sees me for me. Can see me for the man I could be if I hadn’t…if I had chosen a different path. No one can match me that way you can. No other woman can compare to you, Grace.”

“No, that is true,” Grace teased with a little laugh. “But that is okay. You will find someone that matches you perfectly. Humans are necessarily destined to be with one person in their life. It is important to develop connections with others, albeit friendships or relationships. You can’t close yourself off to the world. It is okay to love another, Thomas. I am telling you it is okay to love another woman when I am gone.”

“Is that an order, Mrs. Shelby?” asked Tommy with the smallest of smiles forming on his lips.

“I want it to be a promise. Promise me, Tommy, please. It is my dying wish.”

Placing his forehead to Grace’s, Tommy let out a sigh. He wanted to give Grace everything the world had to offer. No matter the costs, he would give it to her. However, this…this was not something he could give. So, he did the worst thing he could do. He lied to his dying wife.

“I promise, Grace.”

The sad thing, Tommy did not feel much guilt in his lie. He already knew he was destined for Hell. One lie to Grace was not going to change his fate.

While Tommy did not decline himself the pleasures of being in the company of multiple women after Grace’s passing, he did not love any of them. They were merely whores to entertain and keep his mind occupied. The only woman who ever came close to melting his icy heart was Lizzie Stark. He met her one night when he was attending a secret exclusive club that garnered other high-profile members. The club allowed members to fulfill their deepest sexual fantasies (within reason, of course) from role-playing to bondage; it soon found Tommy Shelby to be one of its top members.

Lizzie was Tommy’s main girl at the club. She was the one to allow Tommy to explore his desire for control and dominance further. Lizzie was the perfect submissive to fulfill his needs. It was not only a sexual connection the two adults had but also an emotional connection. A small part of Tommy knew he could let go of his guard around Lizzie, and there would be no judgment from her or nagging that he needs to change his ways.

Their arrangement lasted two years when Lizzie all of a sudden left the club. She did not even let Tommy know why she left or where she went. The other girls at the club merely said that Lizzie had enough of the life and wanted to leave.

A part of Tommy wanted to go after Lizzie and demand why she left him; however, he knew it was important to respect her decision. He used his contacts to locate Lizzie because he wanted to make sure she was alive and safe. Tommy sent Lizzie one final payment as a way to thank her for the years of her services and companionship.

He was alone once again.

That was until a new girl came into his life to fulfill his deepest and darkest desires.

#tommy shelby #thomas shelby #tommy shelby x oc #peaky blinders #tommy shelby fic

36 notes · View notes

imagineabrighterworld · 4 years ago

Text

Bittersweet Tragedies

Pt. 1 // Dead to Me

A/N: The first part of a series of writings based on Melanie Martinez songs, and my own want for Dabi interacting with a child ^^; The reader will have many more interactions with him as time goes on (and maybe even some interactions with heroes)

The vigilante Phantasma was no more. Leaving you and your little sister motherless.

You always felt cold, something you got from your father, but this cold was penetrating in a way you could only describe as being stabbed.

Over and over.

Phantasma was an outlaw, and no one missed those. They were the villains of the hero world. Someone people didn’t tend to miss, someone you werent supposed to root for. So when you returned home to your sister with the news, you knew she would only find comfort in you. No one else would mourn your mother.

For a whole night, you both lay in her bed, curled up and clinging to each other, craving a warmth you knew would never return. But after that, you knew you had to be the one to step up to the plate.

You were 23 and your sister the fragile age of six. Without you, what would she have?

"Kiko."

She lifts her head, eyes still red from hours of crying. Yukiko wipes her eyes.

"Y-Yea?"

"We're going to be okay." You assure her, placing a hand on her back. "I'm gonna call one of mommy's friends so we can get some help. Do you want to go with me?"

"But.." She sniffles. "I have school."

"Ah. Alright. Come, let's get ready for school, I'll take you." You wait for her to sit up before helping her get dressed, using a damp napkin to wipe away the trails of tears on her cheeks. Fifteen minutes later you stand outside of her school, the bell already ringing for her to get to class, your hand cold without hers to warm it.

With nothing left to do you take your mother's phone out and click on a familiar icon. A weasel.

Holding the phone to your ear, your chest lightens as the line is picked up.

"Hey Uncle Kagero, I.. I need some help."

---

Walking beside Kagero Okuta, or Giran as he prefered to be called for business purposes, made you uneasy. It wasn't him personally, in fact, he was one of your favorite people that came into your life because of your vigilante mother. No, this unease was due to the man following the two of you.

Twice was his name. He argued with himself, which unnerved you. Men in general made you nervous, especially the ones that yelled.

"Sorry about my friend here, he's going through a rough patch." Giran removes the cigar from his mouth, waving it around as he guides you through tight alleyways. "It's not his fault, he's just-"

"AN ANIMAL! Heroic! Suave! STOP THAT EH?! Amazing."

"Like that." He snorts.

You shake your head. "It's fine." In any case, you move just an inch closer to the older man.

Giran was an old friend of your mothers, someone she went to for information or for new tech. Often times she took you with her to see him, and often times he would give you whatever he had on him at the time. Ranging from lollipops to broken parts of machinery. It fascinated you as a child, seeing him pull out all sorts of items from his pockets.

Now you saw him in less of an innocent light, but you didnt hate him either. Work was work.

Speaking of.

"What kind of work were you thinking when you said you could find me a job?"

"Nothing terrible." He inhales deeply, exhaling a mouthful of smoke. "You like to dance, right?"

"More or less."

"Something like that. I know a guy who pays good money for people with quirks like yours. It'll keep you and Kiko fed."

A job that relied on your quirk.. Well, it wasn't the worst news you could have heard. And if it would keep your sister comfortable, you would do it.

The three of you stop in front of a rundown bar, the windows boarded up and it's sign hanging haphazardly to the left.

"So, why are we here?"

"To meet the gang! TO DIE! Shigaraki wants to meet you! SHUT UP!"

You turn around to look at Twice. "Shigaraki? The League of Villains guy?" You'd heard of him through the news. The attack on the USJ was still spoken of despite it being weeks ago. "I didnt realize his base would look like.. This."

The man narrows his eyes, looking ready to tear you in half before he stops and taps his foot on the floor. "It's fucked up- but give it a shot! It's cool inside! UGLY AS fuck." He ends in a small voice, hugging himself as he rushes in through the doors. You could hear him say something, presumably to the rest of the people inside.

A hand is placed against your back. You look to your right, seeing Giran look down at you before nodding towards the door.

"In you go kid."

Nodding, you step up to the now open doors and find yourself in a rather well taken care of room. It was a bar with crystal scones and furniture you werent expecting to see in a place that looked like it's outside survived a nuke.

Several people waited inside, either standing or sitting. With one look, you instantly knew who the leader was. But with another look, you couldn't help your eyes being glued to another man.

He had his head resting on crossed arms, his skin held together by staples. He was asleep, but it didnt stop you from looking at him a second more before turning to the leader.

Shigaraki.

Standing in the center of them all was a person who could turn you to ash without breaking a sweat. You would be nervous were it not for Giran's presence. You trusted him enough to know he wouldn't let you die tonight.

"So, you're the one Giran has been talking about." His voice grates against your ears. "The amplifier."

Amplification. Emotional or physical. Your quirk was.. Useful. Amplifying calm, strength, passion, happiness, nearly anything. It had its uses.

"We've already worked out the details. Should you come through on your end." He saunters forward, stopping just short of you.

From where you stood, staring up at him, trying to look past the hand covering his face, you had the from feeling that this bargain would force you to toe the line your mother had danced on for decades.

Vigilante? Or villain.

"Amplify his healing."

Shigaraki points to the now awake man covered in deep purple scars. The man's eyes burned into yours, a bright, blazing blue.

He flashes you a smirk as he moves off of the seat. Unlike Shigaraki, he stays where he is by the bar, but not too close to the alcohol lining the shelves.

You fidget nervously. "Just his healing?"

Shigaraki narrows his eyes, his fingers curling into a slow fist. "Just. Healing."

"Will it be a problem babe?" The man chuckles. "I thought we were getting someone impressive."

While his voice was pleasing to the ears, it wasn't enough to discourage your annoyance.

"It's just fine, pretty boy."

He lifts a brow, the smirk on his face widening, pulling at the staples on his face.

He opens his arms as blue flames engulf him head to toe, skin taking on a deeper hue as it begins to burn. "Give it your best shot babe."

Oh how you wanted to amplify his pain receptors. Oh how you wanted to wipe the smug expression off of his face.

But Yukiko needed you to get this job.

Your pupils dilate as you focus solely on the flaming man before you. Your body takes over as you feel the barest trace of energy radiating from him, tugging on it as you allow your quirk to latch onto him and do its work.

His expression changes ever so slightly as his skin stops it's burning and reverts back to its previous appearance. It wasn't healed fully, but it most definitely was not getting any worse.

"Interesting." Shigaraki speaks from beside you. A little too close for your liking.

You step closer to Giran who puts a hand on your shoulder. "I told you they could do it." He ducks his head slightly. "Good job kid."

Shigaraki nods absentmindedly, already mumbling plans that you already knew you wanted no part of. But you already signed away that piece of you.

Whatever he wanted you to do, you would do. For Kiko.

"Consider yourself hired." He acknowledges you after his compatriot puts out his flames, said companion now making his way to you. "Dabi will be your guard. Treat them well." Shigaraki adds, tapping Dabi on the arm with two fingers.

"Of course." Dabi stands in front of you, looking down at you with that same smug smirk. "Looks like you’re stuck with me babe."

No.

You step forward, ignoring the smell of ash wafting from him. "You've got it all wrong."

He cocks a brow.

"You are stuck with me."

His grin only widens.

#bnha #mha #bnha x reader #mha x reader #dabi x reader #bnha dabi #mha dabi #bnha dabi x reader #mha dabi x reader #bittersweet tragedies #bittersweet tragedies pt 1

37 notes · View notes

duraxxor · 4 years ago

Text

Tales of Solanthos: Shadows Chapter 1 - The Cursed Child

" Darkness has a way of permeating within every single entity. It's existence is unlimited, unlike the other five original elements. And that is why it is widely feared. Because you never know what may be lurking in the Dark. " -- ???

Solanthos. A world filled to the brim with magics that have long evolved in the passing years since it's elemental cataclysm. And with the reformation of the very earth we stand upon, the planet itself as taken on a variety of layers. Some may even argue that the deeper you go to the seething core, the more hellish it becomes. I can attest to that theory. My name is Alphus Daevara, and what I am about to explain to you is more than just my story. No, it is a revolution in a new age amongst the world as we know it.

Amongst the many races of Solanthos, there were the Wyverians. The Wyverians are said to be pointed-eared, magically-attuned mortals that had evolved over time from the blessing of the creator Sylvirra, the matron deity that is said to have rivaled Solexstras, whom the Strassian people revered as their patron. That, however, is a story for another time. Anyways, there were four divinities that split depending on what it was the Wyverians chose to worship. The Goldenthorn, for example, are widely known for their belief in nature and all it provides, exalted in the ways of Life. The Sky Nomads are another group that chose to live amongst the skies in their floating city, believing that the Air they breath is the key to living a prosperous life. Then, we have the more sects that believe themselves to be more sophisticated amongst their kin. The Houses of Radiance, noble bloods that worships the light of the day stars and it's eternal flame. This house of nobility is often lost in it's own arrogance at times and unlike the earlier two, they do not extend their hand to other races so eagerly. Unironically, however, there was one final house whom believes themselves to be even more powerful than the House of Radiance. The Duskhaven choose to live in their underground city that stands on the borders between the first layer of the planet and the darkness that lies deep within the earth. However, their light is in the form of the moon phasing. Another notable trait that defines Duskhaven from the rest is their darker pigmentation as opposed to the lighter tones from their kin amongst the surface.

You're probably expecting me to tell you which one I fall into, aren't you? A Goldenthorn that values all life? A Sky Nomad that strives for adventure? A noble among the Houses of Radiance or perhaps one of the nocturnal Duskhaven? Well, if you guessed the latter of the four, you would be right to a degree but it gets more complicated from here. For you see... My father was of Duskhaven while mother, on the other hand, was of Radiance. Their marriage was highly frowned upon, going as far as even receiving death threats as well as the guardians paying close attention to their every movement. Eventually, they earned their right to love but not without consequence...

6.16.9100 - sixth cycle, sixteenth day, nine-thousand and one hundred years after the reformation. With life comes pain, and with pain comes life. A familiar that my mother experienced and accepted well. She screamed and writhed from the contractions. My birth was nigh but alas, my father was nowhere to be seen. " Where is he?... Where is my husband?! " The Goldenthorn that were requested for her birth outside of the territories answered naught once but instead gave her advice. " Continue to breath in and push, Apolla. Your husband will be here soon. As will your child... " My mother rebuffed herself, lost in the pain from both my arrival and the separation of her beloved. Alas, the only one awaiting her outside was her brother, one who had clung to a hope that his sisters choices would not cost the house their reputation. He, who was also responsible for my father, Sephirrion, from being present as he had guards assembled to prevent what my uncle declared to be an interference. With each scream, I drew closer to existence until finally one high pitching shriek followed with the sound of a babe crying out it's first breath.

" It's a boy, Apolla! Rejoice! You have birthed a son! " The Goldenthorn practitioners cheered with the success until they looked upon the crying child's form upon the initial clean up. Neither sun-touched nor midnight complexion existed. Instead, it was as if my flesh had been touched by storm clouds or the greys of stone. A tuft of white hair sprouted from my cranium. And to some, it was a sickly sight. Specifically my uncle who had immediately rushed into the room to his displeasure. " Sister... What. Have. You... Done?! You have soiled our family name with the existence of a cursed child! " My mother was even given a chance to process what he had said in her tired state before the Goldenthorn found themselves scrambling to stop an enraged Radiance from hurdling a ball of flame at the child. It all happened so fast. Even to this day, I'm haunted by the heat that had struck my flesh. However, as the child was engulfed in flames, the hue of radiant fire twisted, discoloring into an insidious purple blaze until the scream of a babe sent the flames outward in a burst, striking almost every single person within the room. My uncle along with a few of the Goldenthorn were burned but no one was killed in the incident. House of Radiance guards came swarming in and the injured Uncle gave her command. " Take the child to his father... and tell him that he is NOT to set foot close to our territories ever again! As for my sister... Take her and have her locked in a cell! I will not allow this event to destroy my family's way! "

So from that point, the last memory I can recall was the voice of my mother shouting my name despite my birth having been but a mere moments before she was torn away from her child. The guards did as they were commanded and eventually, my father learned of what had transpired. At this point, not only was Sephirrion overwhelmed with guilt and heartache, but he was mortified by the idea that his son possessed such a destructive power. From then on, he chose to raise me under his thumb amongst the Duskhaven. While they weren't as resentful of my existence, they still held prejudice against my father's love interest and the end result. To some, I was nothing more than a motherless child and an embarrassment. While others, believe me to be a white-haired demon. The latter was personified once my eyes had opened to the cruel world around me. An iris divided into two rings of color, the outer being a crimson river of blood while the inner ring illuminated with a blend of orange and yellow. Some described it to remind them of a feral beast before they took note of the dark pupils that possessed no shine to them.

My father would carry this burden on his shoulder for as long as he would live. No one would ever learn or could explain what had transpired that day. Why a child did not burn in fire and reflected such power in such a destructive manner. It was uncommon and hadn't be displayed in any infant. My father tried to give me the most normal life any Duskhaven could offer a halfblood. Food, water, clothing, and shelter. But most importantly, enough love despite the hole that was always within his heart. And with the cycles of life would come public education so I could learn how to live amongst the other's. I still remember my first day of school how everyone stared at me. Even the teacher introduced my name and it was as if I were a criminal. Children whispered obscene things about me that they had heard from their parents.

Freak. Blasphemy. Demon. He should be dead.

I chose to ignore it the best I could and stayed in my corner. That was, until I was confronted by an unexpected occurrence. A Duskhaven girl whose hair was a golden blonde, unlike most and her eyes were as blue as the oceans that were described in geographical lessons. " Hey you, why do the other kids make fun of you? " She asked in such a sweet but prodding voice as we sat outside the academy underneath a glowtree. Incase you were wondering, a glowtree is said to be related to an type of cypress on the surface world but it adapted to the darkness and stores the light that beams from the sun and moon phasing through cavities above. Anyhow, I didn't know what to say or think, I simply stared at her a moment. " Huh? I know you can talk.. I don't understand why they make fun of you? You have pretty eyes. So what if you're different? " I remember something in my tiny, little heart clenching on my strings and I just couldn't contain myself as I began to cry at how kind and warm this girl was to me. " Hey... it'll be alright. You're name's Alphus, right? I'm Felyna. " That's a name I would remember forever. She was the second person to extend a kindness to me aside from my father who raised me. I would meet her during recess and sometimes even after school amongst the City of Undershire.

But, as years passed and I approached the age of ten cycles, her father began to take notice of how close we were. One might say he was much like my uncle and didn't take too kindly to a halfblood mingling with his noble child. I remember when day this tall, powerful man dressed in magus attire approach the two of us outside of school. " Felyna.. " His voice was deep with age and possessed a wicked octave to it. "... why are you fraternizing with this abomination? " As the question plunged my heart like a blade, his daughter protested by reflecting his own question with denial. I can remember how much his voice raised when he demanded his daughter return home at once, forcing her to respect his wishes with the threat behind his voice. But I made one more error at that moment as he told the father how mean he was being and glared at him. " Do not question my ways of parenting you ignorant, little gremli- " As I half expected my face to be lobbed off my shoulder by the strike of a hand, Felyna's father found his arm caught by my own father's. " Leave the children out of this matter... I'm the problem, not my son... " His azure gaze was locked upon my father's yellow orbs in the heat of the moment as they both retracted their arms and the opposing entity said the following words. " You have made a grave mistake, Sephirrion, and I will see to it that you both regret it... I will not have my daughter sullied by your... thing. "

At that point, my father had finally told me that night that I wasn't allowed to go back to the academy and that he would be homeschooling me in his spare time. It was peaceful for the most part but my heart ached as I feared I had gotten Felyna into more trouble that I expected. I never saw her again after that event and not long after, the quiet peace would be broken by the sound of our door being shattered to pieces. It seemed her father held true to his words as my father and I found ourselves confronted by several magi. " Run, Alphus! Run and don't look back! " Those were the last words I heard of my father ever again as I managed to escape through the window of my room and made a run for the city gates. Once again, I had made another miscalculation in my youth as there were guardsman waiting for my arrival as they caught me, the wild, unruly child and I found myself face to face with the same father who had nearly struck me for even glancing in his presence. " Take him to the Pits of Ab'bothi. Make sure that I never see his abominable presence near my daughter again.. "

During my childhood I had heard of whispers amongst the children about these pits. Ab'bothi was an unfamiliar term from a race known as the Arakne, which were apparently spider-like people. In their tongue it translated to Strong Jaws apparently or so the Duskhaven children claimed. It was said that these deep caverns were a living creature that swallowed anyone whole that plunged them for knowledge, never to return. And here I was about to be taken to these pits for only the elements knew what? Always fighting, always flailing, I tried as I might to escape but my energy reserves eventually ran out until found myself tossed onto the hard, stone floor far from the City's light. What little light graced this deepening cavern was nearly snuffed by an smoggy darkness. The entrance paying homage to the name as the ceiling and floors were decorated with jagged spikes that reminded someone of the Strong Jaws. There were even a few that had bones stuck between them, fermenting with the scent of age and death.

" Walk, halfblood. " I felt a dagger pointed directly at my back at the very tip, giving me no choice but to walk forward on their command. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six steps taken before I was told to stop and turn around. Despite my cooperation, my face was struck by the dagger, leaving a jagged scar on the bridge of my nose which was met with a harsh cry of pain as I fell backwards onto my bum, holding my bleeding face. I remember asking, even pleading with them in my painful confusion. " Why? Why are you doing this?! What did I do to deserve this treatment?! " To which, the lead of the group of hired henchmen covered in their shrouds answered. " We do not question our Lords, we only carry out their commands. But know this... that as you snuffed from the life that it is because you were born that you deserved this... " Harsh words were something that I had become familiar with, but to hear a grown man tell me that it is my life which condemns me to such treatment. It struck like a harsh chord along the strings of what remained of my heart. Even when they raised their weapons and the magi began to channeling destructive fire, it was as if I had already given up hope that I even deserved to live. My mother was gone, my father was likely dead, and my closest friend was banished from ever seeing me again. And here I was, about to die, for being a halfblood thing. And in that moment, my gaze stared blankly as I accepted the jaws of death.

" Kshhhhhh...kkkkk... How very curioussss...kkkk.... "

A series of clicking followed such words that were breathed down my spine as I felt something much more threatening approach from behind. The magics of the magi were suddenly nullified and the light was snuffed by a clouded smog. Even as the Duskhaven themselves looked around in a disturbed confusion, I dared not move a muscle as my own vision saw through the darkness at what was staring at me from above. I didn't quite know how to describe it either. A mouthful of needles wrapped in a series of bandages? How could such a beast or monster see in this darkness? Wait, how could I see in this darkness? " You sssssee me boy, don't you? " Saliva dripped from his that maw of potential murder, or at the very least, that's what I was hoping it was. It wasn't until I hesitated that I saw the elongated limbs beside me that looked at though the forearms on their own were as tall as a Duskhaven on their own. How big was this thing? I remember one of those limbs lifted to point those spiny fingers towards the men that were in a commotion. A single finger could completely gouge my eye out if it so desired. " Well? Can you sssspeak? Kkkkkk... or has the ssserpent got your tongue? " There it was, that incessant clicking that brought shivers to the bone.

A nodded to the best of my abilities, gritting my teeth as I steeled myself for whatever else may await me in these dark times. " Do you wish to live, child? It would be a wasssste to see such youth be sssnuffed by the ignorant. " In that moment, I remember my eyes cutting towards the men who were preparing themselves as they found a means to illuminate a short range, the leader calling out to find me and finish this job quickly. " Y-yes. I want to live! Please, help me! Spare me! Don't harm me, please! No more! " To most, it was a pitiful sight and it was the last time I truly had a moment of weakness as I covered my face.

" Ahhhh.... Excellent... kkkkkk.... " The insideous clicking followed with a rush of air as whatever this anomaly was, it had took flight in some way, shape, or form. And as I thought it had left me to the wolves who had spotlighted me in the distance, I began to notice that the magus were once again placed in a panic as one by one, each one was being pulled into the inky blackness that surrounded the area. Screams and cries of terror followed by the sound of tearing flesh and duskblood puddling upon the floor below. Even so, the leader of the assailants didn't give up as he set his sights upon me. " I knew you were a miserable halfblood... but to be cursed with such monstrous demons that follow you in your wake... I will end you! " I couldn't catch a break. It seemed as though one thing after another, my heart was always on some form of edge. I could do nothing but throw up my arms and hope that it softened the blade that was about to be plunged into my small body. Yet the pain did not come. Why?

" What is this?! " The leader cried out just before I pulled my arms down to look beyond the truth. The image of a familiar hand with elongated claws had wrapped completely around the Duskhaven's left arm. " Let me go! I was sent here to do my job! I won't go back empty handed! " The protestation of the assassin was met with not a glimmer of mercy. In fact, he found that this putrid substance was expelled from between the fingers of this creature. Dark magic that ate away at his arm, severing it as the flesh and bone fell completely off. Never in my life had a heard a man scream so loudly in such torment. I was shaking, perhaps even terrified from the possibility that I may be next yet... something about it seemed correct in nature.

" Tsk tsk tsk... You mortal beingss always have an excusssse for mucking around my territory. A job? More like ssssome petty squabble... " The thud of two feet as they landed from above. Much like the face and the arms of the beast, so two were these elongated legs that bent and contorted in a sharp manner. This would explain his acrobatic skills of likely being able to climb the ceilings perhaps rather than flight? Leaping perhaps. "... all thisss trouble for one whelpling? " A clicking laugh followed as the light illuminated the creatures form more than expected. The majority of the body was shrouded by a cloak that seemed to blend with the darkness, as if it were a part of it. Such enchanted relics weren't unheard of but were quite rare of the Wyverian breed.

" I'm not sure w-what you are, demon... but that child is a blight upon our kind... and if left unchecked, he could very well be a.... " The pained man suddenly felt his own bones start to contort and snap from the inside, as if he were being manipulated by an unseen hand. " Threat? Thisss... gifted child? Oh nononono... not a threat so as long as you continue to berate and abuse him... however... Ra'shi'sek... " The utterance of such a word was hissed from the needled mouth and right before my eyes, my troubles were engulfed in a violet wildfire brought a vivid light to the entrance of these cavern, revealing the true size of the being before me as he stood slightly hunched over. He was bigger than any man I had ever met in my lifetime, almost two average Duskhaven in this current state. All that remained was the wailing agony as the assassin and his desecrated underlings were sent to some malevolent hell, vanishing as if there wasn't a single trace.

" And then... kkkk... there was one... " A soft chittering followed across my eardrums as the being began to step towards my right side, which just so happened to be the entrance to the Pits of Ab'bothi. Unlike combat, the giant humanoid possessed no loud thud in his steps as they proved to be silent in nature. Calculated, perhaps. I remember pulling myself up rather carefully and slowly before the stranger came to a stop. " If I were you... I would not try returning to the City... you will likely be held resssponsible for their deaths... but... kkkkk... if you wish to give it a tr- " Not a single pause was required before the next words fell right out of my mouth. " I have nothing left there... I would be better off not returning if there was a chance my parents were still alive... I want to go with you.. sir... "

The towering shroud stood there silently for the longest moments before another series of clicks followed, tilting his covered head to the side before. "... Why? " Another faint silence was shared between the small child and the being that had saved me from death. I swallowed, despite having serpent's mouth from the lack of hydration. " You said I was gifted. I want you to teach me how to use that gift to live. I know not why you have been so kind to me but, I would not wish to waste the chance you have given me. " The being heard my case, tilting his head to the opposing direction before he chittered with his reply. " There will be rulesss. I will teach you but to pass beyond the veil, you may never return to your people without my permission. For if you do... kkkkk... I will abandon you. And if you pursssue me, I will treat you as I had the othersss. " The deadly claws fidgeting in the dark as he allowed the speech to permeate in my mind. The brief hesitation was due to a lack of trust and just before I could answer, he continued. " You are stepping into the Abyssal Wilds, child. My path will not be an easy one to walk, no matter if you are a whelpling or a mighty beast. You will be pushed to your limits ssooo that you may surpasss them. KKkkk... Are we in agreement? "

What sort of horrors may await me in the unknown? Were they more terrifying than him? To push me passed my limits? Would I be broken? Mangled? Shattered? I had already been through many turmoil. Beaten and reaped from any equality amongst my kin. I remember this red-hot fire burning within my heart as anger against my kind began to manifest in my form. And rather than answer verbally, I stood as tall as I could and followed this entity's steps until I finally stood beside him. " Tell me child... what do they call you? " He asked as we began to move in unison, despite the major height difference. " Alphus... Alphus Daevara. What are you called? " The light of the upper crevice that cascaded down onto the city soon dimmed as we stepped into the unknown abyss that lies beyond the pits.

" A name that translates in the tongue of your kin as... The Huntsman. "

#a new story #Alphus Daevara #Chapter 1 #The Huntsman

10 notes · View notes