#new moon of the dark kingdom

[gummi-ships]

Kingdom Hearts 0.2 Birth by Sleep - A Fragmentary Passage - Depths of Darkness

[nocturnalserenade]

Getting ready for energy stealing work ✨

[bakersstreetirregulars]

Kingdom Headline, 2/7/24: Beast-Yeast Episode 2 - “Theater of Lies”

⚙️ Sheesh, 3 years already? Guess their economic outlook in this era of gacha saturation’s gotten them very far, especially with the amount of burnout that hit the upper management Cookies here last Cookiemas. This is actually the 3rd Cookie Run 3rd Anniversary that Meringue’s been through. And if you think my count’s off, think again. Puzzle World’s also more than 3 years old, but that anniversary (and their 4th) went silent because essentially nobody but me talks about that game. But since we’re all here, why not make a month out of it?!

Estimated Duration for all Undated Events and Banners: 2/7 - 2/29

Main Events (Including Part 1)

3rd Anniversary Festival - Step right up and join the party with a myriad of games filled with prizes!

White Lily Cookie’s Daily Gifts - 14 days of valuable rewards and new resources. Log in every day to get resources that get you closer to meeting White Lily Cookie: one of the Anniversary’s main prizes.

Mystic Gold: Midsummer Night’s Forest Spirits - A Temporary Shop featuring Mystic gold variants of the two new Legendary Costumes

The new resources, Emerald Pins and Brilliant Rainbow Crystals, are withheld behind other events and in packages

Emerald Pins will be converted into Brilliant Rainbow Crystals after the season ends (10 pins -> 1 crystal)

Brilliant Rainbow Crystals can be spent on returning Mystic costumes in any season

Explore Beast-Yeast! (Ends 3/27) - Clear stages in World Exploration’s Beast-Yeast continent for milestone rewards with new resources up to 75 stages cleared!

Beascuits Event - Get acquainted with the new Beascuits with some new tasks to get ahead!

Lovely Choco Boxes - Mystery boxes filled with random rewards. Open them using Melting Sweet Hearts you can get from your friends!

Melting Sweet Hearts! - Send gifts filled with Melting Sweet Hearts to get milestone rewards featuring a new icon and title!

Silver Kingdom Adventures (Permanent Until Finished) - Get Crystals for clearing stages in the first two episodes of Beast-Yeast for the first time in any difficulty!

Bounty Missions - Today’s Bounties have been updated! Win battles to get milestone rewards including one Star Jelly Concentrate Level 80 to max out a Cookie to the new level cap of 80!

Seasonal Modes

White Lily Pass - An Event Pass with missions and rewards. Includes a premium track including White Lily Cookie’s Soulstones for $14.99

Skirmish Raid - Circus of Shadows - Dare you step into this twisted circus of dark fantasy and illusion? Form three teams and brace yourself for a show unlike any other!

Kingdom Arena - New Frontiers Season 1 (Ends 2/20)

Gift Month - 🫖🗡️ Tea Knight Cookie (Ends 2/21)

Guild Battle - Destiny’s Wrath Season 10

10-3 (2/7 - 2/13)

10-4 (2/14 - 2/20)

Cookie Alliance Season 2-3 (Ends 2/12)

Cookie & Gacha Features

❔ White Lily Cookie - Light of Freedom Nether Gacha

A theory deemed impossible because of the witnessed events from the Tower of Sweet Chaos, the fact that this skill was teased in the TUTORIAL said otherwise. Her skill does area damage that increases with every buff she has, and ensnares enemies in immobilizing vines with bonus aftereffects and extra damage once dispelled or if the target is immune. Her passive can heal and purify her entire team after getting enough debuffs, although activating the buffs gained with this passive is linked with using her skill.

🌷🏹 Silverbell Cookie - Featured Banner

One of the Faeries of the forest. His skill provides DMG Resist and healing over time that scales with buffs held by his teammates while also providing a DPS/stun debuff on enemies damaged by his skill.

Activates bonus passives when Mercurial Knight Cookie is on the same team.

🧚‍♂️🥄 Mercurial Knight Cookie - Featured Banner (Ends 3/13)

The Commander of the Silver Tree Knights. Gains new powers when using his skill. While his skill is active, he heals extra damage (plus damage relative to Max HP for Cookies) and inflicts Mercury Poisoning with each attack. His Final Strike at the end of his skill deals big damage that increases based on his targets’ stacks of Mercury Poisoning (this is damage relative to Max HP for Cookies).

His passive gives him a stack of Amalgamation every second and whenever he gets a debuff. After gaining 60 stacks, he dispels all his debuffs and enters Mercury Storm mode for temporarily increased ATK, ATK SPD, and Max HP. He can’t gain Amalgamation stacks while Mercury Storm is active.

Activates bonus passives when Silverbell Cookie is on the same team.

3rd Anniversary Deluxe Gacha

Anniversary gacha with increased odds for Super Epic+ Cookies and a guaranteed Super Epic+ Cookie every 150 pulls. Only accessible with special gacha tickets found in events and the shop.

Pure Vanilla Cookie’s Viridescent Daydream & White Lily Cookie’s Moonflower Faerie Legendary Costume Gacha

Features a special Title for collecting both costumes

Lunar New Year Special Hanbok Costumes

The Lunar New Year Hanbok Special Costumes for Almond Cookie, Dark Choco Cookie, Oyster Cookie, Moon Rabbit Cookie, Cherry Cookie, and Macaron Cookie are back again! They’ll disappear again with the banner once this update ends.

👻 Blackberry Cookie - Buffed

Blackberry Cookie’s skill now grants an ATK SPD buff and HP Shield in addition to her existing CRIT% buff. This further cements her status as one of the best Rare Cookies in the game!

Major Update Features (Includes Part 1)

Beascuits - Adds extra bonuses to your Cookies

Today’s Bounties - Updated and organized to include new rewards.

Each boss now has a different reward… Skill Powders now stand solely with the Labyrinth Tactician!

Daily attempts increased from 3 to 6, Kingdom Pass increases this cap to 9

Bonus rewards awarded on a given boss on a given day of the week (Sugar Gnome Laboratory technologies that increase rewards apply their bonuses after the daily bonus)

New/Returning players have an extra, temporary bonus on top of the existing bonuses

Added 2.5x Game Speed to standard and arena battles

Cookie and Skill max level increased to 80

Level cap is reachable after achieving Kingdom level 45

Simplified animations for Tree of Wishes, Bear Jelly Balloon, and Bear Jelly Train

Added Cancel button for Balloon Expeditions

You won’t get your Stamina Jellies back if you cancel an expedition

Added scroll bar on the Cookie list screen

Arena Fast-Forward

Allows you to advance to the tier group below last season’s highest tier

Tower of Sweet Chaos now CLOSED.

Searing Keys converted to 500 Coins per key

Related events & achievements now closed

TOSC Package contents will be delivered in full regardless of Tower progress

Unlock TOSC BGM by clearing World Exploration - Crispia, 4-12 in Story Mode

Sugar Gnome Laboratory: Maximum Searing Keys & Searing Key Recharge -> Bounties: More Star Jellies & Bounties: More Coins. Technology levels and costs remain the same.

All TOSC cutscenes in Pastry Cookie’s story are now immediately unlocked for all players in the Tower of Records for free

Added customizable Profile Backgrounds and Badges

Crème Brûlée Cookie and Linzer Cookie’s Soulstones are now in the Mileage Shop

World Exploration: Beast-Yeast

The biggest feature of this anniversary is the new addition of the Beast-Yeast continent. Unlock it by clearing stage 8-30 on Crispia (the preexisting level series through Goddess of Eternal Gold)

Level Explanations coming soon

[jupitersguardian]

Can I beat an old dead horse for a moment?

Its been a little over twenty years since I've been a Sailor Moon fan and it still bothers me that Jupiter isn't an outer senshi. The astronomy nerd in me just won't let it go. It also bothers me that she's not one of the most powerful? Jupiter is the biggest planet in the solar system. I think all the other planets could fit inside of it. Its named after Zeus! And she's not one of the most powerful?

I know its the way the story was written. Naoko wanted five characters and she didn't think she was writing more after the dark kingdom arc. But damn its forever going to bother me.

[supernightboy08]

My favorite Mario Games Part 2:

1. Super Princess Peach (2005)

2. Super Paper Mario (2007)

3. Mario & Luigi: Partners in Time (2005)

4. New Super Mario Bros U. (2012)

5. Luigi’s Mansion: Dark Moon (2013)

6. Mario + Rabbids: Kingdom Battle (2017)

7. Mario + Rabbids: Sparks of Hope (2022)

[quibbs126]

Someone’s probably already done this, but I decided to try and up the brightness and other stuff (I don’t actually know how to do that, I just sort of guessed by messing with blending modes and upping the brightness on the HSB thing on Procreate) on the new costumes preview and got this

I had done it to see Dark Choco’s costume, and ironically his the one I can see the least. Probably because it’s the darkest

But yeah, I am very excited for these costumes

Now I just need to figure out how to get more Rainbow Cubes

Edit: so I looked up how to mess with contrast in Procreate, and apparently that’s by using curves, so I messed around with the original image and ended up getting these

Apparently there’s a background in there (oh wait yeah there is I’ve just been staring at the brighter one for too long. That’s on me). Also I think these are better when it comes to the actual colors

If I get anything better I’ll just add it in to the post

[shye-eclipse]

Sketched my Cookie run ocs and canon characters with the kiss meme. Maybe I’ll finish it, but maybe I won’t so I’m showing the sketch

Yes I didn’t finish one cause I couldn’t think of a couple for the last one ;-;

Besides they don’t have necks anyways sooooo….

[bakugoushotwife]

kinktober day eleven: monsterfucking kink

>>> guys this one may be my fav day ngl...as you can tell by my blog's entire theme that this is my biggest and most violent fantasy i need dragon king bakugou in the worst way please oh my god please

>>> EDIT 10/11: MHA LEAKS OMFG THIS DROPPED THE DAY MHA LEAKS BAKUGOU IS BACK MY GLORIOUS KING!!!!

>>> starring: dragon king!bakugou x curvy!fem!reader >>> cw: monsterfucking, bakugou is a hybrid, no prep, creampie, breeding, biting, blood, dark content, kinda forced marriage? mating bonds, uh, i think that's it. >>>wc: 2.9k >>> event masterlist

it was the new king’s coronation day, and as tradition demands, he shall have his pick of the finest women in his lands. you were brought forth amongst a host of other ladies deemed pretty enough for the young king to choose from. you were the only one of them that seemed irritated by the prospect, all the other girls were tittering and combing their hair while discussing their chances of being picked to be the dragon king’s new bride. he examined you all in a line, sneering at all the smiling and fluttering lashes—sending them crying from the room. he pauses on you, his gaze was stern and fiery but you didn’t hesitate to square your shoulders and meet it. he’s surprised; you don’t smile or extend your hand for him to kiss. you challenge him, you tell him with that strong set jaw and steel stare that you won’t be easy. he feels a pull on his heart, something he cannot yet explain. he likes you. 

you tilt your chin up, almost like you’re the one sizing him up. you’re so regal and amusing to him that his mind is made up instantly, but he gives you a few more minutes of looking him over, hoping to see some semblance of interest on your face. king bakugou was a hulking form of a man, towering above everyone in the room. they always were bigger than the normal humans, but he was larger than any of the dragon shifters you had ever come across. the room almost didn’t seem big enough to contain him, and it was his castle. his burlap trousers balloon around his lower half, but it seems there were not shirts big enough to fit the new king of dragons, only a long fur cloak that fastened with a golden dragon broach stretching across the broad expanse of his chest. he was tanned and scarred from years of flight and battle, and muscled even more so. he had hints of sparkling scarlet scales trailing along his collarbones with pointy teeth that alluded to his other form. his biceps bulged as he folded his arms across his chest, admiring you as you admire him with a satisfied smirk on his face. you didn’t throw yourself at him like the rest, and he doubted you would yet still, but you weren’t shy to let your eyes linger on him. he likes you. 

he smirks your way, grunting his approval. you were the perfect match. you certainly were the most beautiful creature of his kingdom, and your womanly figure assured him that he would sire several successful heirs with you. you captivated him and you had not yet spoken a word, though the young king could feel that fierce tugging on his heart again, something he now recognizes to be his mating bond the longer he looks at you and the stronger the feeling grows. 

“mine.” he says simply, nodding at you in content. his right hand man and fellow dragon shifter steps closer, handing his friend and king a fur pelt similar to the one he wears before retreating back into the onlooking crowd. the king unclasps the matching golden dragon, swinging the covering over your shoulders and snapping the jewelry back into place with a surprising nimbleness. this was the first of many gifts the king would dole out for his mate and queen, but this is the first one to mark you as his. you’re shocked to be chosen, convinced he would take your surveying for disrespect and brutalize you here to send a message— but alas, the most explosive dragon ruler in all the lands chose you as his bride. “you are my mate. we will marry in two moons. dismissed.” 

he looks over your head when he says this, ending the celebrations in favor of alone time with his chosen. his gaze has a hint of boredom to it as it glides around the room, red and fiery with unspoken strength and power behind them. you straighten yourself under the weight of your new cloak, bowing your head out of respect, albeit so quick it made the king exhale heavily through his nose as if to chuckle. 

“you are amusing, mate.” he says, extending a warm battle-worn hand to push your hair away from your neck. he lets it rest against your shoulder, smirking at how small you were compared to him. it was overwhelmingly apparent that he could do anything he wanted to with you, and you weren’t necessarily opposed to the concept. you started this day with immense rage and dread at having to go before the king and be selected like a prize horse. but he surprised you, even being every bit as brute and brash as everyone said he’d be, his eyes sparkled when they came across you. he declared you his mate—-a huge deal for a dragon shifter, and shrouded you in the engagement cloak without so much as a second thought. there was no arguing with the king, nor his mating bond. your soul was created to nurture his, and vice versa. he felt this snap into place instantly, as a mortal, you probably wouldn’t feel the strength of your connection for several days to weeks. it was an honor, one you couldn’t believe was bestowed upon you—but you certainly weren’t complaining anymore. “i like you.” 

you feel your body warm a bit from something as simple as his touch. he’s rough around the edges, and certainly doesn’t know how to be gentle or verbose, but his statement makes you smile warmly anyway. “thank you, my king. i’m quite amused as well.” 

he lets his hand slide from your shoulder all the way to your hand, clutching it tight as he brings it to his lips, giving it a chaste kiss. your scent makes his heart skip a beat, and he wonders if he can make it through the next two months without ravaging his sweet maiden. 

the days pass, slowly, but they pass. your king brings you several gifts and trinkets, filling your new chambers with tokens of his affection and fondness for his mate. the dragons were known for this, and your mate was the brightest and biggest of them all. so never did he go out to fly without returning with a clutch of presents. he was always so proud of himself as he showed them to you, shoving all the perfumes and jewels in your hands with a boastful grin. 

“i found these for you. wear them.” he grunts, roughly pulling you into his arms for a crushing hug. he was working on it, but he manhandled you on accident a majority of the time, not used to interacting with women. you were getting used to it anyhow, only giggling and nodding your acceptance, cooing at how beautiful all the gifts were. he preens in your praise, eager to earn the deep affection that the bond produces. 

you couldn’t deny that the bond was starting to affect you, as if you needed any help falling for the monster of a man meant to be your husband. he was kind and loving to you, and you couldn’t ask for much more. he was feared and revered, if you were dumb enough to cross him or his kingdom—soon to be your kingdom, then you earned the punishment of his hellfire tenfold. you wouldn’t find yourself begging for lives to be spared as you stand in the crowd while watching the king dole out sentences. he was brutal, and scary, vicious and primal in every way. his servants tremored in his wake, and though his people loved his protection, they feared his wrath. you were truly the only exception, and it was mystical for everyone to see the fierceness that abounds for his soon to be wife, his forever mate, his queen. and they could only hope your loving tenderness would tame the wild king. 

he took meals with you, showed you around his dreary and plain castle, easily agreeing to your every decoration suggestion and insisting you do whatever you want—this is your home now too. he even took you on rides in his gorgeous dragon form, letting you see how beautiful the sun setting over the kingdom was, flying you to different nations, journeying close to the seawaters so you could feel the salty wind on your skin. he forced himself to sleep in his own quarters at night, trying and struggling to abide by common decency. 

when your wedding day finally arrived, the king was more than ready to make you his queen officially—and then cart you to bed where decency would be the last thing on his mind. the ceremony is gorgeous, the image of you in your wedding gown was never to be forgotten on him, even though he couldn’t wait to rip it off of you. his brain had already geared into the darker side of things by the time you were being shown to your now shared chambers, and he could not resist his mate any longer. 

you weren’t faring much better. however this mating bond usually affected mortal women, it had you ready to climb your king like a tree. as soon as the doors were closed, he was on you, shoving you backwards while hastily tearing at your dress. you assist him in getting it over your head with only minimal rips in the fabric. you can’t bring yourself to care as you fall back on the bed with his body covering yours like a blanket. he’s snarling, but he’s not angry, just eager and too impatient to think about all the lessons he’s learned in being gentle. he scoops you up and tosses you up towards headboard, and you swear you can see steam billow off his form as he eyes you down, watching you lay and spread for him. 

“it’s been hard…waiting for you.” he complains, unfastening his cloak and letting it fall to the floor. the moment is so intense, you can feel the air thicken, smell the need permeating the air. he’s breathing heavily already, tugging at the weaving strings keeping his pants closed. your breath hitches when you see his scales glisten in the moonlight, the outline of his cock pressing against the troublesome burlap material. you pant out and nod, knowing the growth before you was only the first hint of what he had to pleasure his mate with. dragon shifters are larger than mortal men in every way, reflecting their dragon status in several different physical markers along their bodies, scales along their collarbones and spines, long mane-esque hairstyles, and of course their cocks. he steps out of the clothing, his massive leaking dick slapping up against his abs with a loud smack, you moan. 

his ashy patch of hair and the scarlet scales glistening against his hip bones direct your attention to the monster cock you married. he’s long, thick, curved, lined with veins and a throbbing pink tip leaking his pre-cum in droplets on the bed. it was easily half the size of his thigh, both length and width wise. he fixes himself on the bed, shredding your panties with sharp talons and eyeing your tiny hole. he has all the intentions to stretch you a bit, to get you soaked to accommodate him but when he looks back up at you, you’re drooling. 

you can’t imagine how good that’s going to feel inside you. all the times you had touched yourself out of curiosity or even genuine horniness would hardly compare to this, to the man it’s attached to—the way he watches you like a predator tells you there was nothing in this world that would prepare you for what he was about to do to you–what you wanted him to do to you. “i know…” you say after taking a deep breath, reaching for his face. “i’ve had to wait just as long.”

you squirm in place, lidded eyes flickering from his endowment to his eyes and then back again. “just wanna feel my king…i know you’ll fill me up so well.” you coo, batting your lashes. 

he’s not in the right mind to banter with you, the only thoughts crossing his brain at the sight and scent of you was to ravage. he grips your hips tightly, trying to will himself to be stronger and give his new bride the treatment she deserves. he should prepare you like a gentleman, but unfortunately the young king is unable to will himself to be gentle. you seem to read his mind, nodding and spreading your legs a bit further, allowing him to get settled in the space you provide. he wastes no time in lining up with your entrance and bottoming out. he knows it’s sadistic that he enjoys the way your eyes cross at the sensation, the burning and splitting stretch ripping a sob from your throat. you clutch at his arms, the natural slick you produced just from your own anticipation aiding him in the glide. he stays still for a moment, letting you adjust to him so he can also adjust to the feeling of your virgin pussy gripping him like a hand-tailored glove. he can’t fight the groan that leaves his lips, mindfully keeping his talons retracted as he rakes his hands over your plush stomach and wide hips, stopping to paw at your thick thighs and fat ass. he’s already rendered speechless, only able to grunt and groan as he starts to move, putting your legs up to his shoulders as to not face any resistance. you cry out at the new angle, absolutely feeling the searing heat of him splitting you apart, but you love it. you move your hips against his, head digging back against the pillow at the newfound pleasure.

it’s so hard for him to go slow, especially as you fuck yourself into him and cry out for more. your body takes him so well, as it was designed to, but he still didn’t expect it to feel and look and sound so good. he can see himself in your stomach, the spikes along his base curling into you and hitting every spot so well. you didn’t even know it was possible to feel this good, his cockhead drilling into your womb so hard it has the corners of your vision turning white. 

he’s growling, unable to repress his animalistic side completely. he leans forward, snapping his hips to yours as your wanton moans fill the room. he lets his tongue lave over your neck, making you gasp out at the feeling. “mate–i need to mark–bite..” he rumbles in your ear, goosebumps rippling over his body when you whine out and nod. 

“please! bite me, got those teeth f’r a reason—” you plead, your small hand guiding his face to the crook of your neck. your eagerness makes his cock twitch, your enjoyment paramount to him just as much as claiming his mate for the first time. he abides by your wishes, sinking his teeth into your flesh and clamping down, feeling you do the same around his dick. you moan out, clawing at his back with your own kind of talons. he can’t stop, driving bruises and bloody spots all along your neck and chest. he’d never go too deep even in his lusty haze, his primal instinct to protect his other half would never allow him to cause permanent harm. he admires his work, “pretty mate, my teeth marks.” 

he grunts out, gripping your hips and roughly turning you over, grabbing a fistful of your hair to yank you into a deep arch. you scream at the new angle, some blood trickling down your neck and pooling between your breasts. he’s entranced by the shape of your body beneath him, how his hands take up your entire waist and the way your ass ripples as he hammers into you. you’re struggling to hold your body up under the force of his thrusts, gripping the covers beneath you for dear life. he reaches around your hip, locating the sweet bundle of nerves at the apex of your thighs. your hips falter when he presses his touch to your clit, a little sob coming from your lips as you begin to fall apart. 

“pretty. coat my cock.” he grunts, cock jumping again as you nod and fall forward, your pussy spasming around him like crazy. he feels the rush of you, sending him shuddering towards his end too. “g’nna take my heirs.” he groans, slamming your hips back into his as he spills into you for the first time. 

he pulls out quickly to gather you up in his arms, laying on his back with you protected by the expanse of his chest. you’re incoherent as his seed trickles out of you, and as bewitching as the sight is, he wants you to give him several warrior princes and princesses. so he slides his hands between your legs and chuckles as you jerk when you feel his fingers stuffing his cum back inside. you whine, so sensitive but yearning for all of his touches. he grunts a bit, leaning over to smooth your tousled hair and gently kissing the bruises and shallow wounds he gave you. his kindness touches you, and you relax into his body with a grin, knowing he would hold you to his heart’s content and then have the servants run a bath for the new dragon queen.

[comfortless]

Dungeoneer!König and his gf... I mean, traveling companion

but really this is how most of their practicing plays out. 😵‍💫

content/warnings: 18+. minors do not interact. sliiiight dubcon, breathplay?, masochism (without real injury), masturbation, oral (m receiving), absolutely unhinged “flirting”.

König knows his way around a blade. From the delicate daggers that thieves pluck from cloaks when the chance to strike is opportune, to the curved, dainty shashkas. His favorite would always be the doppelhänder, long things that strike fear into any man who sees it swung toward him. It’s why he chose to pay good money for one now, tossed a sack of gold at the blacksmith’s feet and demanded to have an exceptional blade crafted for him within a fortnight or so.

He really can’t afford to be too choosy nowadays: he doesn’t live on his own anymore. Before, his course was decided by tattered parchment pinned to whichever acceptable sliver of wood a wandering messenger could find. Now, it’s dictated entirely by the little knight who parades around like the finest tease in all the land. Even the world, he would gamble.

She whispers molten sugar into his ear on nights she’s drunk, lonely or especially sympathetic. Perhaps all three. She climbs into his bed: a tattered, linen sheet on the rough, cold ground most nights. Sometimes, it’s softer, a feather-stuffed mattress at an inn. Those always reeked of sin. Something carnal right where a couple must have lain together only a night prior, yet to be drowned out and washed away in the streams by some hapless innkeeper. It’s all went to his head, more than a little.

The lady knight sits across from him, tapping the rim of her mug of ale with such disinterest on her face that it’s König who feels sympathetic now.

She chose this tawdry place. Chose to don some silly armor and pretend it’s taking her to kneel in service to the King. The jobs never dwindle, but the motivation does. She never knows what she truly needs, but König always seems to.

“You want to fight? Me?,” she asks, to the wooden table rather than to him. Sluggish and gloomy with her own disappointment in this place, her own perceived shortcomings, something that he can’t fix. The King should have his head on a spear for not giving her everything she’s ever asked for, woman and benevolent thief or not.

“It has been a while, hm?”

She nods once, curls her mouth into a subtle smile that sends his heart swooping and something stirring down below.

“I suppose I’ve gotten comfortable.”

He knows well enough that he can make her less so, always seemed to with his groping and hovering. Even if she’s fed into it, a moth to flame, he’s never seen her bed anyone this entire aimless journey. It’s the rush of adrenaline that sends fire into her belly, makes her eyes shine and her legs tremble each time, never the flirtations.

König’s yet to win a bet, but this time he would wager that playing nice won’t grant him a thing. It never has with what’s dwelling in each dark corner of the kingdom’s underbelly, and it never has with her.

So when the sparring begins this time, it’s real.

The look of shock and betrayal comes immediate when she’s easily knocked back, her blade landing in the grass at her side.

“Again.” And again, and again, she says it as though the exhaustion isn’t already evident in the way her breathing grows heavy. Each time it’s the same, because the only thing he holds back from is severely wounding her. Even if he could, even if he knows roughing her up a bit is just how this should go.

“You are tired,” he observes, cocking his head to the side as she scrambles to search for her sword beneath the dim light of the moon. “Do you need a break, little knight?”

The look she shoots him is something akin to scandalized. König’s never been the one to taunt her like this. It’s new and tentative, and he prays it’s something she likes. The dresses and sparkling gifts from the dungeons did fuck all for any sort of progression, and by the end of the night she would know how dull all of this has become to him, too.

“I am not—“ A parry, a feint, a jab that lands on the air rather than striking true. Not enough. “I’m fine.”

It’s never been in this impromptu plan to shove her down, but that’s what happens when she doesn’t take it seriously. She moves towards him again. Steel clatters against steel, sinks forgotten into the grass. With a hand adhered to the back of her thigh and another at curve of her back, he drops her down too. No briny sweat clings to his temple, all of this is more simple than even the training he had as boy.

She doesn’t even kick at him, docile as any doe when she makes the assumption that all of this is playing pretend. Just another game: he’s less fit to be a monster than even the weak things dwelling in the dark in her eyes.

“I do not want your mercy,” he growls against her neck, weaves his fingers into her hair and tugs her head to the side. Just a little. Just enough. “Be sincere. Hurt me.”

“What are you talking about?” Her voice is a mere peep, lost to the wind that whips by and tousles all but the man affixed to her.

Explanations have never come easy for König. Not with words, not even with letters. He’s killed men without telling why, left wandering ghosts and their wives bereaved time and time again. It’s not something worthy of an answer, nor a thing he ever thought she would even ask. It’s never questions with her: only orders. Even a tamed horse can lash out, kick its master right off to trample if it sees fit. König is no different.

He licks a stripe up her throat, relishes in the way her breath catches and her hands rise to dig nails into his arms. His teeth catch right along her jaw, inhales against her cheek, and when she grows tense below him, claws her way down to his forearms, he knows she’s finally well aware of how this ends.

His hands study the expanse of her body, fisting the linen of her tunic upward to reveal all soft flesh and no more tricks. There’s an aching bruise on her neck, chest, below her ribs before the knight finally presses her palm to his forehead and kicks a rib to wind herself away.

“You’re so…” The word she searches for dies on her tongue when she scrambles over him, feels how greedy he truly is when his hips tilt skyward and the throbbing erection presses against her rear.

“Stupid, hm? Say it.”

She curls a hand around his throat and squeezes, her eyelids sinking to shield the dazed glimmer there as he slips a hand into the front of her trousers. A callused thumb brushes over her clit before drifting further, down where he realizes that he’s found a new treasure. She’s already wet.

“You are. Big fool. Brute..,” she grits out, delivers another blessed press of her hand. All another feint, because she remains stationed above him. Even mimicking the groan that rattles his throat beneath her palm with a sigh of her own. “I could kill you. You know that I…”

The knight dips her head to press against his chest as he spears a thick finger into her, and a greed surges through him at this sudden compliance. Poor thing is so winded that she does little else than blanket him and shiver whilst he grins as though he’s devil-possessed or the luckiest filth in the world. The thought of her fitting any cock- let alone his- seems unimaginable, so obscenely tight as she squeezes around one digit that it pulls even an appreciative grunt from him.

“You could try it.”

Her fingers dig into the skin at his neck, and none of it is enough. She’s so gentle with him, because maybe she even believes that she could. Killing wild men without masters or loyalties, just like the men in the stories she fancies. König guides a hand up to help her, presses down around his throat with more ferocity as she lifts her head and stares down at him like he’s truly gone mad.

“You want a leash..?,” she huffs, pretends she isn’t leaking onto his hand.

“Only if this—“ Another finger, a deliberate curl of both as they press to something soft deep inside of her. Something that makes her whimper rather than bark. “—is holding it.”

She only looks at him, sulky and humiliated when she’s pleasured, stumbles over some other mumbled insult as her back begins a slow arch. He guides his hand back to her thigh, pets along her softness and watches her with such adoration, a pleased purr rumbling in his chest.

“Look at you… cute thing.”

“Not a thing.” Her hissing only further goads him, because she does nothing to pull away, can hardly meet his eyes even with fire and hatred on her tongue.

“Ja… meine dame, is that right?”

Her breath catches as she grinds herself where she’s been impaled, legs trembling as his thumb brushes over the bud in repetition. It’s too soon, but he allows her to have her rapture, gaze drifting from her hair to the curve of a hip as her cunt gives a greedy pulse. All armor is shredded and ripped away, no defenses, catapults or blades, all are exchanged for soft cries and a burning ache. The hurried breaths she takes come almost stilted as she gives his fingers another generous squeeze, and he only feeds them into her with unhurried hunger.

“I want to feel it,” he huffs into her hair, savors the way she tightens the grip around his throat until his voice fetters to a whisper. “Just once, please.”

“No… not..,” is all she manages before the wave reaches the shoreline and she unravels over him. He feels the walls of her cunt throb as her head ascends to his shoulder, burying herself there in shame or bliss. The orgasm is soon but drawn out, some pent up need finally freed to open air, the very same longing that remains prevalent and urging inside of him. He fucks her through it with a bitter fervor, spearing and scissoring the fingers inside until her thigh draws up from around him and she detaches entirely to sit up at his side.

König is quick to rise before her, already untying the laces of what keeps him from the hope of sharing that same rapture she must have felt. The little knight only stares up at him with perplexed curiosity as his cock springs free, thick and long and angry after so many long months of suffering a callused fist or neglect. The tip drags over the seam of her lips as he takes the base of it into his palm, and the drooling maw above her only groans at the barest sensation.

“I will bite it off,” she declares, follows it up with a charming grin as though she hadn’t bruised him deeply hundreds of times prior to this.

“Ja, after… I don’t care.” And of course he does, but this is the closest he’s gotten to anything and he would be a fool not to take it, teeth or not.

She swallows pensively, then rolls her tongue over the slit of the enraged weapon in her face. Beads of salt aren’t fitting for a woman’s tongue, he knows, feels horribly dirty and miserable at the sight for a mere second before she takes him in earnest. Her lips wrap around him, send sparks of the purest euphoria through him.

“Is this how to shut you up, meine dame?”

Everything is gilded gates and ethereal meadows, the only damnation he suffers is the fact that he can’t move without bruising her: too big to feed himself down her throat, too untamed to hold himself steady should she ever allow it. He settles for her pace, watches in wonder as she allows half of him to reach into the warmth of her throat. The panting beast above her curls his hands into fists at his sides, certain that touching her would be the end of this boon of fortune.

Her tongue flicks over the weeping tip each time she draws back, hands grasping at his thighs to keep herself upright. Even when her teeth graze over the sensitive flesh, the cock in her mouth only twitches in agonized bliss. He melts before her, trembling in such pleasured fury that his nails threaten to break through the hardened skin of his palms.

“Ha… I need to… I’m going to come.” Only then does he reach for the back of her neck, forcing her in place to bear the taste of what’s to come. She doesn’t fight it, gazes up with a furrowed brow and delivers the gentlest bite along him. A warning or a dare. “Next time will be… fuck…”

Her titan crumbles before her as though wounded, can’t keep his hands in place then as he grasps at her face and his body grows taut. His hips press forward only to stutter as he tries in earnest to keep himself somewhat contained. She gags quietly when the thick ropes of seed meet the end of her, abrupt but as endless as the broken, pitiful noises that rise from his chest then. It’s miraculous how she swallows it all, bitter and hot as it spills in generous spurts.

It’s he who pulls back, giving the cock already softening a few more pulls before collapsing in front of her with acute love tucked away behind the glassy blue of his eyes. His little knight could feign indifference all she liked, but even those pretty tavern wenches and noble pricks she bats her lashes at could never have had a taste of what had just occurred here.

She wipes away spit and come with the back of her hand, tries her best to shoot him a look of disgust, but König does not miss the way that her eyes seem to twinkle in the same way his do now.

“I want to taste you, too,” he rasps, chest still rising and falling with rushed intakes of air. Even after he can’t keep himself from ruining any bit of sanctity or sanity within reach. Punctuates his statement by reaching toward her again, only to be pulled into the comfort of an awkwardly positioned embrace. His face lands against her breasts, and though he languidly runs a hand up her back, the other takes a tit. He toys with her in his palm, brushes a thumb over her nipple and rises up to kiss her cheek, silent pleas.

“You’ve had enough fun,” she answers, pulling his hand away with their fingers intertwined.

“You have more than just a mouth.” He flashes her the biggest, wettest puppy eyes he can manage. That may get him a scrap from her plate, but it’s worth nothing here. “I would make a good vater, yes?”

[hwaightme]

Dawn

THIS IS 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI, PRINCE'S ORDERS (nsfw tags under the cut)

(masterlist)

👑 pairing: exiled!prince!seonghwa x afab!reader 👑 genre: smut, fluff/angst, pwp but make it royaltycore 👑 summary: remember, remember this day, do remember, the treason and gunpowder plot. i see no reason why gunpowder treason should ever be forgot. as the preparations for a new era are complete, you find paradise and praise in the arms of the prince who had fallen, the prince who will be your king. 👑 wordcount: 6k 👑 warnings/tags: questionable editing, mention of 'sins', exile/royal family drama, revolution/uprising, muddled feelings, explicit mention of bombs, treason, park dynasty, royaltycore with modern elements, in love or in lust, lmk if anything else 👑 taglist: at the bottom of the fic 👑 a/n: it all started with a devious hwa smirk; @nebulousbrainsoup thank you for hyping over this with me <3 always, any reblogs appreciated. much love!

👑 nsfw tags: cunnilingus, overstim, teasing, pet names (love, darling...), begging, unprotected sex (wrap. it. up), creampie, nipple play (f receiving), implied aftercare

“It has been done,” you mumbled, fiddling with the edge of the heavy cloak that adorned your frame. Despite being in a secluded chamber, you did not have the heart, at least not yet, to reveal your surprise, instead keeping discussion and action to strictly business.

Seonghwa’s eyes widened, as though he was visualising the impact of your unspeakable actions. A pang of fear struck your heart as you cast a glance at the flickering orange flame of the torch – currently, the sole source of light in the chamber that he had made his quarters and headquarters, given the timidness of the moon as it hid behind thick clouds. The ornate window stood dormant, reflecting the light and the fiery man. Prior stoicism and cool resolve evaporated, and he turned towards you. In the blink of an eye he was setting the maps of the kingdom and of the locations that served as bases of operation of the new regime down on the desk, and he could not hold back on anxious praise.

“How did you- but that was a risk- you, my angel… my sweet, precious angel you are changing the world, light of my life-” stopping you from picking at your cloak, he took one of your hands in his, lips ghosting over the knuckles. He pressed your hand against his chest, as though in a miniature embrace.

It was easy to see the relief in his features. The hints of dark circles under his eyes, the misery being replaced with a shining hope and a boyish vivacity – this was why you had abandoned your own morals in favour of his, convincing yourself that what you had done was ‘the right’, and that there was an objective evil in the world that just so happened to align with your specific target. It could be the case; it could be that because Seonghwa was your personal ‘right’ and was the path you never wanted to stray from, you could not care less for any other misdeeds. When his grip on you weakened, you moved your arm back, and placed both hands on his shoulders, pretending to smooth out the fabric of his perfectly tailored black coat.

Not much had changed in his heart for as long as you knew him. Seonghwa was always there for you, and even in the midst of the crumbling of the Park dynasty, he was the one to tell you that it was going to be alright. Despite being publicly labelled a traitor and having a witch hunt launched to find and execute him, he was here, standing before you, with a gentle smile on his face. You wondered what was unfolding and being formulated in his beautiful mind. What tears was he suppressing, what curses was he refining for the day that he would look the revolutionaries in the face and deliver the final blow to reclaim the royal title and the kingdom. Perhaps his shoulders had gotten broader, perhaps his hair had gotten longer, gaze sharper and the sword that he would wield in his hand more lethal and merciless, but he was the same Seonghwa to you. The same boy who you had played in the royal gardens with, the same young man with whom you had danced in the quietude of empty halls. You did not know anyone except him, and that was how you wanted your life to stay. So, when Seonghwa offhandedly mentioned a ‘mission’ that he was due to complete – a critical step in the leadup to the uprising by him and his loyal army, you did not just volunteer, you swore to dedicate yourself wholly to his plan and did not experience a single droplet of regret.

Perhaps he was your sin. Like some suffered from Pride, or Lust, or Sloth, you were a devotee to His Royal Highness, until your very downfall. And this is why no other act, no matter how devious, meant anything to you – it was merely a step in the direction towards securing your one certain joy in what was otherwise a bleak, barren dystopia. His eyes contained a universe, and that was more than enough for you, even if your days were numbered. This was ringing particularly true after the act you had committed, and the cause for which you stood. You were frozen in time, regarding Seonghwa with the adoration of a person parting ways with the world. As though he was your last breath of air and last ray of sun before it set for eternity. It appeared that this dismissal of your internal turmoil did not go unnoticed, and the prince was quick to reach for your arms, pulling them down so that your fingers could intertwine.

“You mustn’t look back alone. It is a chasm,” he began, studying you. A bitter smile graced your lips as you bit back the long-chronic worries you possessed due to his unwavering kindness. Your precious little prince. You squeezed his hands, mumbling:

“What use is there in focusing on the past anyways, right?” when you sensed suspicion, you elaborated, “the future is bound to be brighter? Isn’t that right, sweet star of mine?”

An overwhelming pause. The question was meant to be rhetorical, potentially comedic, and yet it left a tinge of sourness. Nothing was for certain, even though you carried everything out to a tee and disappeared from the party-occupied castle unnoticed thanks to your knowledge of secret passages that ran between rooms and underground. Seonghwa’s voice accompanied you as you planted detonators, deafening devices and something one of the prince’s followers had kindly dubbed a ‘sleeping mist’ in predetermined locations. Turn, leave, you could do it, you were strong, there was reason behind your actions. Evidence of this was behind the elegantly dressed, albeit emotionally worn-down man. The maps – a myriad of scriptures, plans, strategies; some doomed to fail, others a brave but evaluated risk.

“Mm… that’s right,” you did not want to believe that it was a lie, so you settled on indulging in his deep timbre, tone so mellifluous that you wanted for it to be the only thing you could ever hear, “just you wait, the future is made for us. A world of ripest fruits for us to reap, for us alone…”

He moved once more, letting go of you. You could guess his musings almost word for word – a little planet. Starry night sky. Having the luxury of knowing what would happen when, so he would know when he could see you again, and you did not have to turn into a creature of darkness to creep inside the shadows to his hideout for a few hours, only to risk yourself all over again afterwards. Freedom and utopia were his forbidden fruit – an eternal temptation explicit in his gorgeous irises.

He was a dreamer with very consistent and persistent fantasies, as well as an eloquent way of feeding them into your soul with such finesse that with time you almost always considered any thought to be your own in its origins. Both the little prince and the serpent, Seonghwa was your definition of the world. He had given you a lens through which to see everything. Including him. To you, he was the definition of perfect. A fallen angel more than deserving to return to the heavens. He was outcast by evil, afterall. 

Your body acted on its own accord, stepping back to give yourself at least some room to breathe, but you should have known better than to expect such a thing to happen in Seonghwa’s presence. He caught you - a long time ago. Unreadable expressions graced him as he hooked you back in with the slightest tug at the dark formless material hanging over your body. 

“Did it take you long? Were you in danger?” he asked, spotting the absence of the pouch that had carried the discreet explosive animatronics for your distribution.

“N-no. Not at all. They did not suspect anything out of the ordinary. Besides, I did not try to improvise outside of your instruction.”

“Good. More than good,” it was as if he was talking to himself, undoubtedly reviewing the preparations, now accounting for the success of a major element of the operation. “I wonder if anyone would be able to spot the butterflies prematurely. Would the alarm be rung then? Would we-”

“Are you doubting my skills to hide the tech, Your Highness?” you jest, imitating frustration.

“Hm, no. I think I am merely excited for what is to come. We’ve been preparing night…” he sneaked a glance at your neck, trying to guess what you were hiding under black wool, “...and day. I want to see it all come to life, and have you with me.”

With him - that was all you could hear. You were not one for bloodshed, however given the possibility of redemption, it was appealing. You did your part for him, and he was proud. Now, you could close your eyes. Something in the way Seonghwa approached you was akin to the way a predator follows an unsuspecting beast in a grove. Eyes that were neither hostile nor forgiving, foresight so powerful that he was confident you would never leave. The two of you had too much history, too many memories from which detangling oneself would be virtually impossible. You tried, however your attempts had been in vain. When you had first caught the rumours of exile flying around the castle, and then the extensive discussions about familial rivalry and planned ‘changes of crown’ to fit a new ideology, you tried to get away deeming the path of ignorance safer. All it took was one whisper of your name to vow that if Seonghwa were to be sent to hell, you would loyally follow him there. Should he be executed, you would weep at his side and depart with him, heart already in a million pieces. You were irrevocably, foolishly in love with Park Seonghwa, the former prince of Aurora, willing to settle for being a favourite pawn, should he want you to be one. But even that title you would never be able to fish out of him. Forever enigmatic, you were never confident in assuming you were his only star despite the sweet nothings and the adoring gazes, but even if you were part of a big universe for this ambitious, high and mighty man, you did not mind. No one could fight against power. No one could fight against the greed for supremacy. 

He was so close. An angel glowing in the torch light. The gold and red detail on his clothing turned to holy markings in his grace. You were stunned, a pliable doll in his arms, entranced by his slowed blinking as the ghost of a smirk appeared on his lips. There was always reason to reward you and your undying commitment to his cause. A token of appreciation, some could say. Seonghwa could also retain some form of humanity and call it for what it was - a long-standing obsession, but given who he wanted to become, he needed to contain himself and possess at least a sliver of civility before inevitably breaking apart for you, and only you.

“Thank you, Y/N,” music to your ears, the final straw before your internal chaos overwhelmed you and you had to hold on to Seonghwa’s voice for guidance. Your reaction was easy to detect, as the prince moved to have his fingers just barely touch your face.

”So… so beautiful, my love,” his hand traced your jawline, pausing when a shudder passed over your body. Seonghwa chuckled, admiring how responsive you were, how attuned you were to him despite remaining mostly unperturbed by the world that surrounded you.

There was something spectacular in how you carried yourself – feigned obliviousness, a façade of perfect innocence that had been the main reason for your survival under the new regime. Pretty precious little bird that knew how to keep quiet, and in turn were destined to sing the loudest when the time would come. Your eyes, widened as you devoured him, were enchanting pools that he would not hesitate to dive into and drown. Perhaps one could argue that no one liked a dead man, but Seonghwa was one of the lucky ones; your taboo rendezvous were evidence enough that you did not mind a character in your life who was as good as a ghost.

Your slightly parted lips, rosy, moistened by the darting of your delicate, delectable tongue were a sinful fruit that he desired to own. Running a thumb over your lower lip, the sparks of an uncontrollable lust burst in his chest, tainting his bloodstream like the most potent wine. He could see the edges of your dress under the black cloak that you used to move undetected in the night. To visit him, of all people. To risk your life for him and him alone. For him to be the only one who could even spot the royal crimson fabric underneath – a material tailors would fight over, material that he had gifted to you once upon a time despite barely having any network whilst in the chasm of being an outlaw, a traitor of the state. Enemy number one, who had made it a mission to dress you up. He did not regret a thing. Not when you gasped as he toyed with the clasp of the cloak. Not when he felt your hands land right above his heart, fingers toying with the leather harness and golden embroidery of his long military coat - another echo of the past that he would never be able to shed away. In addition, as the days approaching the uprising were being reduced to nil, he could not help but be drawn to the fine material as a form of mockery. He wanted those who have wronged him to see themselves in his form, to hear him have the final laugh.

Muscles tensing under your fluttering caresses, Seonghwa was giving into a domineering restlessness. Unhooking the clasp, he admired the way the black fabric pooled around you, as though the night sky was bowing before your grace. He tried to catch his breath, but it proved to be impossible as the dress occupied his vision. Nothing remained, only your impeccable handiwork, the perfection that was the fit of the garment on your body. You were supreme, the symbol of victory and glory. Clad in red, he saw the future in your form, both in spirit and in the battle cries that would accompany the painting of the lands in the colour of the wondrous silk.

You retracted your hands, and almost regretted it when you heard Seonghwa’s staggered inhale. He was looking you up and down, memorising every detail, undoubtedly thinking of anything and everything that he could do to you, or what you could do to him. Despite the urge to act, to step towards him and greedily steal away what he had left of precious oxygen, you did what you did best, and batted your eyelashes, pretending to be unaware. A wolf in sheep’s clothing, in trepidation to accept the guilt of inducing a small death. Serial murder, unforgivable, manic, addictive, reviving.

“I-“ he tried to form a sentence but it seemed as though every word he could think of wilted before escaping his throat.

Darkened irises darting back and forth, in awe of you – your favourite sight. You could not help but to reach out to him, moving to push an escaping tiny strand of inky hair from his stunning, timeless face. Fingers inadvertently ran further, carding through the slicked back locks and tempting Seonghwa to come closer. Biting his lower lip, he stepped closer to you, hands finding purchase on your hips and giving them a warning squeeze. You tugged lightly, making his previously lowered head rise to face you directly. You could see nothing in his eyes except what you yourself could reflect. The most beautiful and inextinguishable hellfire.

“You have good taste, Seonghwa,” you smiled softly, though the action was clouded over with a deeper intent.

“I am blessed to say I have a muse,” snaking over to your waist, you were suddenly being pulled into a yearning embrace. His racing heart reverberated and echoed in your body, the rising heat of his thighs and hips against yours grew ever more prominent. Seonghwa occupied your every sense, making you forget where you were, when, and what the consequences of your star-crossed union could be.

“Mm is that so?” you suppressed a giggle, brushing his wavy tresses back once more, while your other hand on the side of his face. You could feel him lean into the touch, eyes shutting for a moment before meeting yours once more.

It was in such moments that you found you knew Seonghwa best. Uninhibited and entirely himself, he bared his soul to you in every glance and longing grasp of cloth or exposed skin. Stars in his deep mahogany orbs, the exiled prince was silently asking you for permission. For what? You were about to find out; not once did you not trust him enough to let go of your inner voice and soar into pleasure – those who plotted uprisings together, were meant to be bound together, body and mind. It did not take long before Seonghwa’s lips were on yours, intoxicating, the pace of your elaborate dance so dizzyingly slow that a minute more and you would be the one clawing for more. Overwhelming, he pressed himself against you, and you could only hold on tight, thanking every deity who could unabashedly observe your physical confession for the existence of such moments in your life.

Fingers digging into his scalp, you evoked a muffled groan from your royal lover, who nipped at your lower lip and tentatively ran over it with his tongue, asking for access. Who were you to not oblige, especially when he asked so nicely? In no time, he dipped into a deeper kiss, exploring you, memorising you all over again as though you did not visit him both when he was awake and in his dreams. He was feverish, erratic, his plush reddened lips were leaving trails over your cheeks, the crook right before your shoulder and moved back to evoke a quiet moan out of you by paying special attention to the sensitive spots on your neck.

The red dress was a rose, a promise, divine dedication to him - the same material as that of his own clothes, the colour of the details on the coat which in a joint effort you and him were practically ripping away - the body harness already long gone, to reveal a flowing black shirt. Resting your arms on his strong shoulders you gave into every sensation, fingers instinctively finding their place carding through his locks, you followed his lead and stumbled backwards until an unexpected fabric hit the back of your head, making you gasp into another kiss. With a low growl and unprecedented annoyance, Seonghwa pushed the curtain that served as a divider between the office and meeting area of his chambers and the segment he used as his bedroom. Not quite the same as what his quarters used to be in the castle, but thanks to his military precision and tidiness, went above and beyond what one would expect from a rebel hellbent on chaos. 

It was dizzying - his hands travelling across your body, his hot breath against your skin as he battled the same dress he had implored you to craft and wear, his simultaneously sultry and threatening glare that immediately subdued you as soon as you tried to remove yourself from him to help. No words, only a muted command, and in a matter of moments, you felt a coldness crawl up your spine as Seonghwa expertly undid the buttons on your dress. Goosebumps involuntarily appeared on your skin, erased by your lover’s quick hand.

“Is my darling cold?” he rubbed your back, the intensity and affection forming a combination excruciating for your heart. You shook your head, not wanting for him to worry, though the decision resulted in quite the opposite, “You know it is not good to lie, right?”

“I’m sorry-”

“I suppose it is a little… these damned stone walls. Sorry, love, this is far from welcoming.”

“No, please don’t worry…”

“Mm. Then stop me from worrying. Are you cold?”

You were burning up. The contrast between your flesh and the air was stark, and you bit your lower lip in an attempt to suppress another shudder. Seonghwa stepped forward, making your knees buckle as your lower legs hit the edge of the bed. He let you sit, though himself remained hovering above you, casting a shadow. You turned and studied anything and everything in your immediate surroundings, a wave of embarrassment washing over you despite having been with him so many times before. You stopped at the coat that was lying discarded on the floor. The brooches and badges, marking his titles - or at least past titles, in the Royal Military, glistened and induced a pang of anxiety. Were you living in an illusion by hoping for the past to return? A hand under your chin returned you to the present, and your misty eyes were forced to meet Seonghwa. What was a vexed, darkened expression melted away, revealing a tinge of concern uncharacteristic of his regal image.

“Talk to me,” crouching down to your level, you felt blush rising on your cheeks.

“...A bit…”

“There, see. Easy. Now, do you trust me?”

“Wholeheartedly.”

“So, burn with me, my love,” purposefully implying, he gave space. But if he was the flame, then you were the air, quickly disintegrating as the orange and red blaze consumed the vital essence. You had no chance, or choice, your only answer was his name, repeated over and over and over again until you knew nothing else.

--

Every single one of your senses was consumed by him and the near unbearable warmth shared between two bodies connected under heavy sheets. Brain turned to cotton, much like the blanket that was currently muffling your cries of pleasure, you were being kept from writhing only by Seonghwa’s iron grip. Thighs pinned to your upper body, he had you folded in half as he licked strips up your soaked folds, toying with your abused clit before sliding his tongue deeper, relishing in how your walls clenched around him, begging for more. Pathetic whines were music to his ears, prompting him to move until his nose was almost pressed against the overstimulated bundle of nerves and he could relentlessly fuck into you.

Addicted to the scent and taste of your arousal, he was not giving you any room to breathe, nor to recover from your first orgasm, and instead launched directly into building you up for another. You were a masterpiece, giving up to salacious ecstasy for him so easily, adoring words spilling out of you even though you were barely capable of constructing a proper sentence. The sheer notion of having such impressive power, and you giving up ownership of your personal euphoria to him made him want to stay in this position together. 

“Mine-” he muttered, barely audible as he coated his tongue in your nectar and rolled it over your clit. 

You yelped and threw your head back as a sensation resembling an electric shock hurried through you. Grasping at the bedsheets until your knuckles were turning white, the last image of your lover before he immersed you in artificial darkness was haunting you - his devilish smirk when you shyly nodded in agreement, his virtually lewd scrutiny as he studied your reactions to him ridding you of the dress, to him immediately disposing of your bra, and to him playing with your thin panties, occasionally dipping into your dripping heat to tease you. And then, when he deemed you ready enough, you were in a world where nothing and no one existed except Seonghwa.

The knot that was building in your core was ready to snap at any moment. You could not breathe. You were seeing stars and you were mewling for Seonghwa despite him being right there between your legs, taking you apart. Sensing your oncoming climax, your prince braved letting go of one of your quivering thighs in favour of pressing down on both with one arm, while the other landed directly on your bud, fingers masterfully flicking it while he curled into your hole, pulsating motion inciting wanton squelching from your heat, amplified by the confined space under the duvet.

“Hwa- I-” the nickname spilled out of your mouth by accident, though it seemed that the prince did not mind. Instead he hummed and sped up once more, only to send you over the edge.

Lapping up your release, he guided you through your high and greeted you on your way down, his hands acting as a stabilising force that kept your shaking limbs, and you safe. Seonghwa nipped at your inner thighs, exhaling sharply in amusement when upon teasingly dragging a finger across your pussy you gasped, thighs instinctively trying to bring themselves together. But your lover was quicker than that, lifting himself up until he was hovering over your fragile frame with a knee pressed against your heat. The sheets slid down his form, stopping just past the middle of his back - enough to reveal the glistening orgasm on his face, his half lidded eyes and parted, gorgeous lips. He flicked his tongue - a habit occasionally turned into intentional provocation. Pupils blown, expression animalistic, ravenous, he needed more. To bear the scalding hot oasis that you shared, he had torn off his clothing. Though now, he could no longer bear the aching of his erection that was rubbing against your stomach, rapidly coating it in pearly translucent beads of precum. Hips moving on their own accord, he started to rut against you to gain at least some form of friction.

“Still hmph- cold?” he asked, unfiltered mockery clear in his voice.

“Please, Seonghwa- need you in-”

“So fucked out you can’t even - ah, answer my question?” he cut you off, keeping the teasing demeanour all the while his dick was throbbing painfully against you, “I s-said, a-are you cold? Finally catching on, you agreed with him.

“Yes, I… need more. Please,”

“How do you need more, my greedy darling? Hm?” stopping his rocking, he took to rolling one of your hard nipples between his fingers, taking in your every breath, sigh, and the rolling of the eyes as you felt a tug shoot straight to your core.

“-want you to fuck me,”

“Mhm-”

“-want your cock inside me-”

“Yes-”

“-want you to fill me up ple-”

“Say that again,” in less than a second, his nose was against yours and you were peering straight into his soul, finding an inexhaustible danger. His breathing had gotten considerably shallower, and you swore you felt his cock twitch.

“Fill me up, Hwa, I- please-”

“Since you asked so nicely,” he pushed your legs further apart before tapping you on your hip to adjust your positioning. Eagerly, you followed his request hissing at the sensation of his tip teasing your burning heat before Seonghwa bottomed out, the mixture of slick and precum offering a delicious glide. 

He leaned forwards, his bare chest against yours as he shared your state of enchantment awestruck as the torchlight gave up its final battle, only to be replaced by the beginnings of a full moon. You were a goddess in blue and silver that gleamed around the thick curtain, your glassy eyes so innocently sharing feelings he had never dared to express openly that he could not help but plant one peck after another over your cheeks, nose, eyelids, and finally, the lips. The scalding friction of skin against skin started to resemble a prolonged embrace, and when Seonghwa slowly dragged his length against your clenching walls, he mused if in another life, you could be connected like this for all of eternity. 

You offered him the true meaning of ‘unconditional’. You trusted him without a second thought, and were ready to throw away the stability you had within the castle walls in favour of a probability. Your optimism intrigued Seonghwa, and he knew he was in danger of falling in love. In fact, he had been this way since long before finding out his enemies were all beside him at the dinner table every evening, and that only in the most critical moments could he discover his real allies. If he were any more free of the burdens permanently clinging onto his shoulders, the prince would have confessed to you. For now, however, he had the freedom how you fell apart beneath him, so deliciously gullible, drunk in lust.

With each languid thrust into your weeping cunt, he was silently singing your praises, thanking you for every day that you had shared with him, for every night that you had proved that you did not abandon him. As he picked up the rhythm, your melodic pants and whines accentuated the lewd squelching and at the same time sent his mind into overdrive. He loved the time he had with you, the time when nothing existed except instinct and what he could only call a union written in the stars. Seonghwa bit down on his lower lip as his pumping grew erratic and you tightened around him as you reached your high. He let out a whimper, vision impossibly blurry and growing darker as he could barely fight the weight of his eyelids. As he moaned your name, Seonghwa, accepted his violent addiction to your pleasure and your pain as you clambered for the remnants of your sanity in the midst of an overdriven climax. Thick ropes of cum coated your spongy walls and Seonghwa stilled his hips, unable to maintain even a frantic, stuttering pace any longer. Your arms collapsed to your sides, leaving behind marks where you had driven your nails into his perfectly tan skin. The fullness made you impossibly weak, and you fell back onto the pillows, taking Seonghwa with you. Having collapsed under the weight of ecstasy, your lover rested his head in the crook of your neck, inhaling the delectable scent of sex and desire.

The moon hung low in the night sky, casting a soft glow over the secluded chamber where Prince Seonghwa had found temporary solace and transformed it into the cradle of a new world to come. You, his loyal companion and confidante, or at least that was how you decisively wished to name yourself in the midst of uncertainty, nestled against him, your fingers intertwined. The weight of Seonghwa's destiny bore down on his shoulders, and the weight of you in his arms offered a fleeting respite. 

Seonghwa's eyes traced the delicate features of your face, bathed in the gentle moonlight. "Y/N," he whispered, his voice carrying a mixture of longing and determination. "I can no longer bear the burden of this false exile,” he was returning to the present, the only remnants of the beautifully turbulent night being his slightly swollen lips, gravelly voice and dishevelled sweaty hair which had just begun to curl. “The time has come to reclaim what is rightfully mine. I just… I just hope it all comes together."

Your sleepy gaze met Seonghwa's, understanding and unwavering support evident even in the semi-darkness. "I'll stand by your side, Seonghwa, no matter the peril that awaits us. Together, we'll face the storm and emerge stronger.” It was easy to hope and easy to pass the tasks to the next person in the relay, so you wondered if your words held any meaning to your lover. When it was just the two of you, it was easy to worship the art of hedonism and forget impending doom. If only you could erase his own thoughts from his mind. Be selfish. With a soft shake of the head you dismiss the impending sourness, choosing instead to focus on the heavenly fatigue, like cotton, enveloping your and Seonghwa’s bodies.

As if drawn by an invisible force, Seonghwa pressed a tender kiss to your forehead. The warmth of your connection was a stark contrast to the cold reality awaiting you outside the chamber walls. For a moment, you existed in your own sanctuary, shielded. The room echoed with the soft rustle of fabric as Seonghwa shifted to hold you even closer. His fingers traced lazy patterns on your back, a silent reassurance that he cherished this stolen moment of peace. In the midst of the impending uprising, Seonghwa found a panacea in your arms, a haven that anchored him and convinced him that what he was doing was a necessary evil. You nestled into Seonghwa's chest, feeling the steady cadence of his heartbeat. 

"Promise me we'll make it through this," You whispered, fingers tracing absentminded patterns on Seonghwa's chest. You knew that no matter how he would answer, it would be hollow, for only fate could be aware and decide the outcome.

Seonghwa pressed his lips to the crown of your head. "I promise, my love. We'll face the challenges together, and when the dust settles, we'll build a kingdom. How does that sound?”

“Good.”

“My queen.”

“Don’t say that…”

“Today, these are words. Tomorrow, the world can be ours,” you succumbed to his cruel hypnosis, not daring to ask for his methods, nor for his confessions. The less questions you asked Seonghwa, the happier you could pretend to be, and the grander was the castle in your sky. 

The weight of your shared destiny hung heavily in the air, yet in the quiet cocoon of your embrace, the two of you had found your own religion. As the first light of dawn approached, you remained entwined, drawing strength from each other to face the tumultuous path that awaited you - a path that would lead you to a ferocious battle, deciding centuries to come in the timespan of the flutter of a butterfly’s wings. 

“Will I ever be forgiven?”

“Who is there to forgive you?” After some deliberation, you dared to query. In one reckless sweep, you ignited every shadow of hesitation, leaving you only with unconditional, pure love that would carry you through any hardship. The one thing you had left, unfortunately unbreakable.

In the faint light of the rising sun, crawling into the room and coating it in magnificent gold, the man who you so adored and was devoted to was in every form a soul condemned to eternal hellfire; you were fully aware of that. A tarnished being marked as dead before he could even begin to spread his wings. Feathers strewn across what used to be a kingdom meant for him to rule being the only remnant of the brutal betrayal. The devilishly handsome traitor or trailblazer sharing his bed with you was not supposed to exist. And yet, it was his voice, his touch, his scent that occupied your every pore and thought, the owner’s name being carved into you over and over again until you forgot the bigger picture, focusing only on what Seonghwa could envision and how you could achieve that priceless peaceful kingdom.

“Now that is a question I would be interested in figuring out the answer to…”

“Both of us are unforgivable. Cannot repent, cannot start again,” you turned to face him, captivated by the way the sun highlighted his features, “but we can go forward. Until the hands of time stop us.”

As the two of you drifted into a dreamless slumber - a luxury serving as a calm before the storm, you comforted yourself with the fact that in some sense, nothing was going to change just like the darkness that came with your dozing. One fallen leaf, or soldier, would replace another, one snowflake would twirl in pursuit of its partner, one Park would return his crown from the other. In the grand scheme of things, it was still the neverending winter, a late dawn, and the same dynasty, the embodiment of which you prayed was in your adoring and calculating embrace.

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[studioghibelli]

yellow - an oberyn martell x reader

summary: you've struggled to feel at home in the kingdom of dorne, far away from the land you once knew. your new husband, oberyn, has just the remedy to help you feel better.

warnings: arranged marriage, implied age gap, not canon at all, some fluff, smut (bath time fun time, cock warming, cock riding, i suppose a slight praise kink, prince oberyn being a good husband, finger sucking, etc)

note: for my sweet angel twizzy @ilovepedro this is for you <3 love you forever! also this has not been edited or spell checked LMAO sorrryyy. i know for sure that this isn’t my best work, but writing for a completely new character was definitely a bit of a challenge! nonetheless, i hope you all enjoy this. xx

There was a certain depth to his eyes that you had never noticed before, a silky richness that lay dormant behind the honeyed orbs that so often glowed from his skull. He was beautiful, no doubt, but your marriage had been one of comfort, a simple decision made without love between two kingdoms.

When you first arrived to the golden shores of Dorne, the first thing you gathered was how.... bright it was. Yellow flowers, golden dresses, amber tile work- it was a tapestry of color that your usual dresses of navy and lavender put an unwelcomed stain upon. You were unsure of how welcomed you would be, by the crowds, by the king, by your prince.

Yet now as you straddled him in the bathtub, soapy with orange scented bubbles and steaming hot water, his fingers pushing down the back of your throat were a welcome reminder that the prince not only welcomed you, but desired you.

He had found you in the dark of night, when sleep had abandoned you, and the silver light of the moon poured through your sky lights, bathing you in her cool richness. Oberyn had placed his mouth on your neck, his hand on your stomach, and his sweet words of comfort melted through your ear like dripping nectar, filling your chest with a warmth that you had not felt for quite some time.

A hot bath? he had asked, and you would have been a fool not to follow him naked down the dimly lit hallway.

And now you were here, water gently sloshing between the two of you, his hard cock nestled deep within the walls of your aching pussy, his mouth sucking a hardened nipple as his fingers gathered your dripping spit from the pad of your tongue. Oberyn was well versed in the ways of sex, and he had opened your eyes to a multitude of earthly delights that were once lost on your naive mind.

"Do you feel me inside of you, little dove? How hard I am for you?" Oberyn's teeth dragged across your jaw, a shiver coursing straight through your spine.

"Yes, my Prince. I do." You words were hot as your breath slipped from the partition of your lips. You couldn't help but drag your hips, his thumb tweaking at the swollen bud of your clit.

"And you.... look at you, dripping all over me. What a precious thing you are. You can hardly stand it, can you?"

You threw your neck back, his hand moving to the bottom of your neck. Oberyn held you there, his hot palm pressing into your flesh, as his middle finger traced shaped upon your clit. He stared at you curiously, intently, as though you were the only woman he had ever known.

“What is it?” You asked softly, the grip he had on your neck loosening.

Oberyn’s umber eyes softened, and he sat back further against the bathtub, bringing you down with him. Chest to chest, he looked at you through wet lashes, lips parting.

Something in the air shifted.

Something felt different. It was a sudden and subtle change, but one you felt nonetheless. One that made your chest compress with a newfound sense of anxiety.

“Are you happy here?” His voice was barely a whisper. His rough knuckles ghosted over the height of your cheekbone. You gulped thickly, staring back at him through the dim light of the bathroom.

The air was thick, palpable. You could have chewed on it if you opened your mouth for a mouth full of it.

Were you happy in Dorne? Were you happy with him?

The Prince was fun, charming, witty and bold, and you had seen the skill he possessed in combat. Any woman would be lucky to have him. You had seen the way he treated his nieces and nephews running about the back gardens, you had seen him talk to his brother about diplomacy and war. His hands were rough and his heart was gentle, he was the perfect dichotomy of both man and warrior.

He was Oberyn.

Curious, charming, playful Oberyn.

Your Oberyn. Your husband.

Husband. The word still felt foreign to your tongue.

Your thoughts wandered to the first night you spent together, Oberyn feeding you chocolate dipped cherries, licking dripping honey from the valley of your breasts as you two spoke of future dreams and childhood memories, lazily tangled up beneath silken sheets and a starry sky. He had shown a side to himself that not many people had the pleasure of knowing, a side to himself that you became fiercely enamored with.

"Happy?" You finally chimed. "Happy..."

Oberyn rested his forehead on yours, his hands running down your soapy sides. "Yes. Happy? I want you to be happy here."

"I am. With you." Your fingers found the wet strands of hair clinging to his forehead, and you tenderly pushed them back. "It was an adjustment, as all things are. But I have found myself.... very- very happy to be here, sharing my evenings with you."

Oberyn smiled, meeting you mouth with a tender kiss. His fingers traced gentle shapes into the small of your back, and you melted deeper in to him, like wax pouring off the sides of a candle. The Prince held you close, and you felt safe in his arms, safe against his chest, safe in his embrace.

He pulled back, basking in your beauty for a moment too long. "Sit back." He cooed, gently helping you off his lap. Your back pressed into the other end of the large tub, bubbles spreading across the valley of your breasts. "Spread your legs for me."

You did as he asked, parting your thighs so Oberyn could gaze upon your most sacred place, the place he had spent hours worshipping, like a lost man on pilgrimage to the Holy Land. There was hunger in his eyes, a dark, animalistic, primal hunger, and it slowly spread through the smile on his face.

"You're so beautiful, little dove. You were made to be a queen. My queen." You giggled softly, resting a foot on the edge of the bathtub as he crept closer. The tip of his index finger swirled across the opening of your cunt, and he smiled a devilishly smile at the feeling of your arousal.

"For me? You shouldn't have." He leaned forward, his teeth sinking in to the soft flesh of your neck. You moaned out as his fingers sunk deep within you, immediately finding the soft spongy spot that made your toes curl. Oberyn was skilled like that- he knew how to make you come undone in a moment, he knew how to play you like a violin, and you would gladly fill his ears with the sound of an orchestra.

Your hand rested on his broad shoulder, pulling him closer as he kept filling you up with two of his thick, long fingers, exploring parts of you that no man could ever find. His name was a mantra on the tip of your tongue, and you were the woman begging for penance. Like a prayer, Oberyn filled your mind. He was your redemption, he was your savior, and he knew how to elicit the sweetest sounds of devotion from your lips.

"That's it, my love. That's it. Do you want to cum?"

"Please, my Prince. Please make me cum." You were whining now, but you couldn't say you cared very much. And neither did Oberyn. In fact, it only made him crave you more.

"Come straddle me. I want to feel you cum on my cock. I want to feel your pussy again." Oberyn's voice was hot and breathy, and he brought you with him as he laid back, helping you align your pussy with his throbbing length.

When you sunk back down on to his cock, you both moaned in unison, the dull edge of his nails digging into the supple skin of your thighs. He held you glued to him, stuck in his grasp- but you weren't complaining.

You placed your hands on his chest, guiding your movements, allowing yourself to memorize the gleam in his eye. The way his lips parted, the way his brow creased- with each movement you made, Oberyn only became more beautiful.

Oh, he was so beautiful. Wasn't he? With sun kissed skin and soil rich eyes, there wasn't a time he had ever looked at you and you hadn't felt that tugging at your stomach, that creeping feeling of love waving her ardent arms, screaming out that she knew your secret. Your deep, dark, terrible secret: You were in love with Oberyn.

"Oberyn." You cooed breathlessly, moans rumbling through your chest as you rocked yourself on his dick, feeling his thick length twitch at the seductive mention of his name.

"Yes, little dove?" He rolled your clit between his forefinger and thumb, a shit-eating smirk crossing his plush lips. You stared at him, mouth hanging open wordlessly, as he brought you closer to the brink of orgasm. "What is it?" Oberyn's words were laced with a hint of ego.

He knew what he was doing to you. He knew how to make you cry out.

You had completely forgotten where you were and the fact that you were on top of him, but in one swift movement your back was pressed into the tub, and Oberyn was sinking in to you once more, now on top of you and calling the shots.

You looked down at where your bodies met, your throbbing clit being rubbed beneath his middle finger as your pussy hugged his dick, each thrust filling you with more and more pleasure, each movement only making you want him more and more.

You could barely warn him before your orgasm hit you like a strike of lightning, and Oberyn's groans of pleasure as you tightened around him filled your chest with a certain kind of pride you had not known before meeting him.

Your nails dragged down his wet back, his hips jutting in to yours as he chased his own climax. Oberyn looked down at you, a smile twitching on his mouth.

"You always look so beautiful like this. Beneath me. All spread out and open for me."

"For you." You whispered back, a smile spreading across your face.

A deep, guttural groan escaped him at the sound of your sweet voice, and before you could say anything else, Oberyn was emptying his load deep within you, teeth barring down upon the blade of your shoulder.

You two lay there for a moment, letting relief blanket over your bodies.

Later that night, when Oberyn was cradling you in his arms, fast asleep beneath the sheets, you were still wide awake, staring up at the richly adorned and painted ceiling.

How you ended up here was beyond you. It had all happened so quickly, and fate had reared her head rather suddenly.

As you looked at Oberyn, nestled snuggly in his golden robes, you thought to yourself: maybe yellow isn’t so bad.

[lycheedr3ams]

Death's Angel

Part 3: Taming the Beast

royal!fem!reader x executioner!konig

Summary: It's 1554. You're one of the eight daughters of the Austrian royal family, and your parents do everything they can to ensure their kingdom is prosperous and peaceful. No royal court is complete without their hand-picked executioner, one who stands out against the sea of black, faceless bodies that make up the profession. It just so happens that your family's new executioner, one who has made a name for himself far and wide for his skill with the axe, has caught your eye and ruined you for good.

Warnings: MDNI! Mentions of smut, eventual filthy smut, mutual pining, forbidden love, death (konig is an executioner duh), mean sisters, mentions of medieval-type violence, overbearing parents, konig is brooding and a perv, some predator/prey dynamics, maybe dark themes bc reader likes seeing him kill people and bc he's a perv?

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 4

.......

series inspired by the art below!

You were more than lucky that no one caught you going down to konig's quarters last week on the night of the autumn harvest ball. You made sure to keep your interactions with him the following days very brief, if you even saw him at all. this was all for his sake, so that he wouldn't be thrown out of the castle - or worse - on accusations that he seduced the Austrian royal family's princess. not that it wouldn't be the truth, but you were the one who pursued him first, after all.

you found that you could hardly concentrate during your routine literature or violin courses. your eyes would always wander out the window, scouring the fields or training area for the hooded giant. but just like his living quarters, he must train in secret, for he was rarely seen outside of the castle during daylight hours. some nights, you'd spot him from your bedroom window, washing his clothes in the moonlit stream. you wanted to call out to him, but surely others would hear, and it wasn't safe. you wished you could be like Rapunzel, to just let down your hair for him to climb to your room like a storybook prince. but you were no Rapunzel, and he was certainly no prince.

it was too risky for you to sneak down to his quarters now that things had settled down after the ball. you thought endlessly on how to get more time alone with him, to just even speak to him, even if you would be the one doing most of the speaking.

crime in your country actually seemed to almost stop now that konig was the royal family's executioner. everyone was scared of him, and of his axe. to be killed by konig was a death like no other, even though he made it swift and painless. needless to say, castle life was getting a little boring. you had enough of the routine, enough of the shy, virgin-like smiles you sent his way on the rare occasion you saw him. he was the most interesting person you've ever met.

and konig couldn't get it out of his head how you said that fire just needed to be handled properly. he replayed that night over and over again in his mind, pondering your words with every free moment he got. he couldn't admit to himself that he missed you: from your kindness and smile to your plump hips and squeezable breasts. that cloth you gave him didn't make it three days before it was soiled with his essence as he jerked off to unholy thoughts of you. he pretended to not notice the way you would owlishly stare at him from your bedroom window when he was trying to wash his clothing.

but you couldn't think of a way to see him alone again, until tonight. you watched as konig cleaned his clothes under the light of a crescent moon, but he seemed to forget a piece of clothing as he left. no one else would've been able to see the black cloth if they hadn't already known it was there. you jumped up from your daybed by the window and smiled as a plan formed in your head. much like the night of the banquet the week prior, you slipped on a cloak and some loose boots before sneaking out of the castle. it wasn't uncommon for you to take walks at night, even before konig arrived, so that alone wouldn't arouse any suspicion. the silence of the night and the cold glimmer of the moon were often your only companions.

you pretended to follow the streambank lazily, as if you weren't making a bee line for the cloth, as if it wasn't the only reason you came out tonight. the knights each had their area that they guarded every night, and you had long ago memorized each of their paths and schedules. they were no threat to your plan. when you finally approached the black cloth lying on the ground, you sat down and gently pulled it under your dress with your foot. you carefully folded the garment under your cloak and tucked it under your arm before you sat down and admired the stream for a little while, like you usually did. the easy part was over. now, you had to figure out how to get to konig's quarters without being seen.

there was no way you could march right past the knights like you did last time. there were too many servants about, and your sisters often stayed up later than they should've, just like you. you aimlessly wandered the castle grounds as you thought, and remembered that there were secret passages throughout the castle that were only supposed to be used in times of an emergency. surely returning the executioner's forgotten clothing to him was an emergency?

you walked back to your room, to trick the servants and knights into thinking you were going to bed, before you entered one of the secret passages to the basement. it was hidden behind a painting that rested on the floor rather than hung. only you knew about it, somehow. maybe no one else ever bothered to wonder why one painting wasn't hung out of the thousands that already adorned the castle.

you could risk bringing no torch with you, so you braced the cold darkness of the passages and followed them down. in your younger years, you would often hide in these passages from your sisters, or when someone made you upset and you couldn't get away. but you had never been past the main level. but down you went, until you reached the trapdoor exit and were right in the middle of the basement servant's quarters. they all seemed to be asleep, so you quietly climbed onto the floor and descended down konig's staircase. you were slightly more confident this time since you've visited him before, but it was still like knocking on death's door.

you gently knocked and whispered his name. you heard the bed creak, and he opened the door a moment later. he didn't look all that surprised to see you, like he did last time. he wordlessly looked down at you.

right as you were about to hand his discarded garment to him, you realized that he might find it creepy how you knew he left a piece of black clothing, outside, at night, while you were supposed to be asleep. you blushed, and pursed your lips shut. he tilted his hooded head to show he was confused. but he already knew you watched him, so would it really be that weird? you couldn't think of an easy excuse as to why else you would be down here, knocking on his door in the dead of night. so, you timidly handed him his folded garment that he left by the stream.

"you...left this," you said quietly without meeting his eyes. he gently reached and took the garment from your hands. you lowered your head in shame as you realized you had become a stalker. you were about to turn to leave when his voice pierced the air, even though he spoke very quietly.

"can you handle fire?"

you looked up at him with wide eyes, and you must've looked like a spooked animal. you chewed the inside of your cheek.

"i'd like to think that I can," you responded breathlessly.

his silence gave you the idea that he was satisfied with your answer. but his gaze was so heavy that you could barely control your mouth before you blurted,

"i'm sorry i'm not stalking you i just think you're really interesting."

his eyes widened at that, and you blushed as you realized what you had just said. you turned to run up the stairs, needing to get away from his all-knowing gaze, before his strong hand grabbed your arm and pulled you into his room. he shut the door with his other hand and pushed you somewhat roughly against his hard, wooden door. his body caged you in as he leaned an elbow above your head and curved his back down so that your eyes were level while his other hand hung at his side. giving you an escape if you wanted. but you couldn't will your body to move. you had awoken a beast.

"you should not talk to me," he warned through gritted teeth.

you could barely breathe. "why?"

his eyes went up and down your frame before he gulped and answered.

"bad idea," he rasped.

you were truly a lamb caught within the wolf's jaws. your breath grew labored.

"I don't think so," you whispered.

"i am an executioner. you are a princess," he said, almost angrily.

you looked him in his eyes, and he truly had the look of a predator. his pupils were pinpricks swimming within a sea of grey-blue. "i don't care."

it seemed he tried to restrain himself with some hidden leash, with the way his body trembled as he caged you in. was he aroused? angry? scared? you couldn't tell.

"i will ruin you," he stated.

your body went on autopilot. you smirked.

"i'd like to see you try."

taglist: @kneelingshadowsalome, @plumdreadful

very filthy smut next chapter!!!!!

[kingcrow01]

DC x Marvel Fic Recs

@jas-per11 @letthedeadghostrest

Hello! I saw your post, and I've been meaning to rec some DC x Marvel fics anyways, so I'll do that here. I don't know what you've read, so I'll start with

Peter Parker / DC Series:

The Dark Matter Multiverse Series by @mysterycyclone

Dark Matter is the blueprint for most Peter Parker / DC fics, and it's also fucking fantastic. If you're reading a crossover and don't understand why, without explanation, Peter is talking to ghosts? Why he by default ends up living in a firehouse? Read Dark Matter.

Spider and Bat Friends Series by @emmacortana

So far, 12 well written and hilarious works from my all-time favorite author, Miss emmacortana. This, coming from someone with over 1,500 bookmarks. She's that good.

Bitsy and The Bats Series Series by @wibbwoby

Haven't read this one in a while, so I don't have much to say, but Rated T for Traumatized is an absolute classic.

Pizzaverse Series by Irisen

A heavier read, wherein Peter tries to keep his job, make rent, and has a lot of unfortunate run-ins with Gotham's rogues.

Peter & The BatBoys (Doctor AU) Series by @thepoppypress

Peter is the Wayne family's doctor. He has a... chaotic time. I've only read Part 1, but I am still including this here because it's a series.

Peter Parker needs a hug (From the BatFamily) Series by @true-blue-fool

Shorter fics about Peter bonding with the Batfamily. Part 3 is especially cute.

Spider and Bats Series by @superklutzkent

Peter Parker whump, featuring the Batfam. All of the whump.

Let's take a break and look at some DC x Marvel fics that DON'T feature Peter:

Steve Rogers: Man out of Time and Place Series by RavenclawAngel

After Civil War, Steve gets exiled to DCs earth and builds a new team.

from the nucleus flight Series by @blackkatmagic

Khonshu whisks (Comic) Moon Knight away to DC. Very well written and passionate. If it's not your thing, don't let the Bruce Wayne/Marc Spector tag dissuade you from reading; since it's unfinished, the ship hasn't happened yet, and it's too good of a fic to miss out on.

The Devil's in Gotham (Remastered) by @prince-link13

Matt Murdock moves to Gotham and befriends Jason Todd, his neighbor. Bruce Wayne/Matt Murdock

Marvel/DC Crossovers Series by @bamboozled-and-alone

What it says on the tin. My favorite, part 2, is Matt Murdock taking care of Damian Wayne.

Echolocation Series by Firecat23

Matt Murdock and the bats; though, part 6 does have Team Red, meaning Peter.

Back to our regularly scheduled programming:

Peter Parker slash fics:

Cassandra Cain/Peter Parker

Along Came a Spider Series by @rags-n-bones

Quiet Respite by @faeriekit

I'm not too far in this one yet, but it's Faeriekit, so it's bound to be good.

Peter Parker/Tim Drake, affectionately called redspider

a shining spider web by Selador

Needling by LaughingFreak

How dimension travel can lead to love. Series by Psychic_Queen05

My current Favorite Ongoing Peter Parker / DC Crossovers:

The Ones Burnt by This_is_lovin

After the events of No Way Home, Dr. Strange's magic sends Peter to Gotham. He wakes up in another boy's body, and has to deal with the consequences. Part one just ended with a bang, you all should be there for part two, it's gonna be awesome.

Arachnomaly by @songue85

The (Comic) Amazing Spider-Man, being neighborly in Gotham. Plus some sick art from the author.

time flies by (bye) by WHYISEVERYNAMETAKEN

Two difficult years after No Way Home, Peter ends up in Gotham, but with a whole lot of introspection. One chapter left; you better be there.

All of the rest, that didn't fit in the prior categories:

Unforeseen Consequences by @mysterycyclone

Gotta Get to Rock Bottom! by @emmacortana

Read the initial notes first.

Set Naked on Your Kingdom by sassydandelion

Peter's Gotham Debut by BlankGeode, Leeavy

This Was Home by @emmacortana

The Peter Parker Theory by nicfics

and even though we are strange and exquisitely scarred by Wingfeather6913

What happens in New York by @violent138

A Long Way From Home (And No Way Back) by Vivia_wants_boba

Ignorance is Death by No_idea_what_Im_doing_lmaooo

One Dead Spider by Miellonek

If you do check out any of these fics, always leave a comment. Authors love those, it’s like catnip to them.

[lilibethwrites]

Head that Wears the Crown

Aemond Targaryen x F!Targaryen!Reader

There is only one woman in the whole of Westeros who can get inside Aemond’s Targaryen’s head. On the night of Aegon II’s coronation, Aemond’s beloved wife, Y/N Targaryen is not happy with who wears the crown, and she seduces her husband into making a move that might change the order of succession in a mere turn of the moon.  

Warnings: smut, incest  

A.N: Reader is Rhaenyra and Daemon’s daughter and married to Aemond. This is somewhat darker than what I usually write, but it’s also something I’ve been meaning to write while I’m still working on the requests I’ve received.

Word count: 1958

You were at the Dragonpit earlier, standing tall and proud with your husband by your side as Aegon was crowned as the true King. Within you, however, the fire of a dozen dragons burnt bright and tall. The same fire also burned inside your husband as he grunted and scoffed, your hand in his was squeezed to the point of discomfort—pain, even, as he tried to restrain himself.

 It should have been you. It should have been Aemond. The legacy of Aegon the Conqueror was insulted when his crown was placed upon the head of the disgraceful, reproachable man you had the displeasure of calling your brother-in-law.

 And Helaena? Old Gods and new had to band together to save your family from doom if she were to rule alongside her brother.

 What you devised required a clear head on your part and Aemond’s both to blossom. You allowed him to take a flight on Vhagar to clear his head, and spar with Ser Criston afterwards until his arms and knees threatened to give out.

 Then you knew where to find him as if you’d placed him there by your own hand. In the new, spacious bedchamber in addition to yours, gifted to you as Aegon and Helaena vacated it. You suspected it was a consolation gift from Alicent. A mere room for the Seven Kingdoms.

 The room was spacious. The floor was tiled with veiny marbles imported from Dorne between smooth stones and the walls were covered in rich tapestries; and it was dark, illuminated by what seemed like a dozen candles and the fire from the fireplace alone. In the middle was a tub partially obscured by a silk curtain left ajar, and within it was Aemond with his arms hanging out on each side, his slender fingers drumming on the side of the cold tub with a servant carefully scrubbing his broad shoulders.

 Your entrance did not go unnoticed, and you relieved the servant of the frightful duty. She had heard the tales from other girls who’s heard them from others: Aemond was cruel and short-tempered. He’s beaten and maimed people on a whim. On an evening like this in particular, it was easy as a pie to get on his nerves.

 “Leave us,” you ordered, and she set down the rag and scurried away eagerly. Aemond’s face was turned away from his Princess wife, you, and towards the fireplace that extended all the way up to the high ceiling. It gave his face a soft tinge of warmth, he almost looked less intimidating.

 “My love.”

 Only a hum.

 You took a fluffed-up pillow from the bed and kneeled on it beside the tub, to which Aemond finally turned his head. You only hoped it was washed thoroughly. Even through heavy stockings, you were revolted to kneel on only Gods knew what touched before. Knowing Aegon, it was nothing decent.

 “What a day we’ve had,” you whispered, dipping the rag in water.

 “Hm.”

 You began with his arm, scrubbing gently and slowly before moving up to his shoulder, following the muscular curve of it in circles.

 “Talk to me, husband,” you whispered again, much closer to his ear this time, and sealed your seduction with a kiss to his neck.

 From the way his chest rose and fell, you knew he was giving in to you.

 “Aegon is…” he sighed. Aemond shared your dislike for Aegon but his sense of duty and his commitment to his family tied his tongue. You, however, were also his family, and you were determined.

 “A drunkard and a charlatan, yes. Not at all the knight and the scholar you are. The heirloom of Aegon belonged to you and you alone, my love.”

 You dipped the rag into the water once again, this time rubbing his chest. He caught your heavy-lidded eyes and licked his lips like a man starved before a feast.

 “Aegon is the king, now. This is treason,” Aemond spoke through gritted teeth. The words of his older brother’s coronation were heavy on his pride and difficult to speak.

 “So be it. Then we shall hang together.”

 You trailed down from his chest to his abdomen. His muscles under your rag tightened. He could foresee your next move as with shaky breaths that bordered on sweet mewls and moans, you let go of the rag and pressed your palm on his skin.

 “Hand in hand in death as we are in life, my love,” your fingers travelled down a patch of light hair that led to his manhood.

 He was growing hard already and twitched in your palm when you gave his cock a light squeeze and a pump. Aemond’s hips shifted as he slid down the tub, his legs spread wider to accommodate your conduct.

His breath was heavier also, shaking with each up-and-down slide of your hand around his shaft and with kisses pressed to the corners of his lips.

 “Aegon cannot hurt you, love. No one can while I am around,” he grunted. His head was thrown back in pleasure though his eye was trained on your face still.

 “Mmm, husband. What would I do without you?” You purred in his ear, scratching with your words the spot that pleased him the most.

 Aemond wasn’t a man to be manipulated, but you were a woman not to be underestimated. Your hold over him was stronger than most knew. Perhaps even Aemond himself didn’t always know just how much of his decisions were placed in his head by his dear wife.

 “It was not right,” his lips loosened up between grunts as you picked up the pace with your strokes. “He—he should not have—” he stuttered between gasps and huffs.

 “We can make it right. My dear husband, we can make it right,” You could tell he was close. A hand on the curved corner of the tub clutched the marble so tight that veins on top of his hand and around his forearm popped up. He hissed through gritted teeth with each stroke you gave him from the hilt to the tip.

 He was burning up, too. When you pressed quick but wet kisses all over his neck and jaw, your lips felt as if you’ve kissed hot coals.

 “How?”

 You knew the signs all too well. You knew when to press on, and much to your husband’s dismay, you knew when to pull back. With a disappointed groan from Aemond’s throat, you pulled your hand out of the water and began slowly to loosen up the bodice of your dress.

 He watched you with a heavy-lidded eye and a heavier heave of his chest. The heavy silk of your gown slid down from your shoulders and bared your naked breasts to your husband. He cupped one, massaging and squeezing, desperate to feel more of you.

 Aemond’s wet hand raised goosebumps on your skin. There was the familiar, sweet building up of heat and ache between your legs, as well. You needed him just as he needed you. Though before you allowed yourself to indulge, the matter at hand needed Aemond to be resolved on a particular solution—and who better than you, his darling wife, to make it happen?

 You cupped his cheek and brushed your lips against his before sliding your tongue between his parted lips. It was more of a promise of things that might come, so you pulled back when his hand tangled in your hair to deepen the kiss.

 “There is a way, my love.”

 You had Aemond just the way you wanted then: panting and gasping, trembling, silently begging to be touched, to be inside you. Your thumb caressed his lips, and he watched you expectantly.

 “Though some might say it shall visit a curse upon us—”

 “You are asking me to… to—”

 “Not quite. Not a slit throat, or a sword through the heart. But… you do fly together occasionally. Above the clouds, above even where the Gods cannot reach you. If a dreadful accident were to happen…”

 “It would be—”

 “It would be the only way to ensure there would be no protests to your coronation,” your hand wrapped around his neck gently, your thumb stroking the vein that ran from the side of his sensitive flesh. You could feel the flow of his hot blood when you pressed your finger down on it.

 Aemond leaned back, looking up at the ceiling. If it wasn’t an immediate no, it was a yes. A reluctant one, maybe even an afraid one—and could you blame him considering the weight of what you just asked of him?— but it was a yes.

 Your hand dipped into the water and down between his legs again, and you started stroking his already-stimulated cock, this time to bring him to his peak.

 “Leave Helaena to me. I know you are fond of her,” Though the idea that Aemond was keen on her made it all the more alluring to do away with her in a more permanent manner, you had to tread carefully and make your calculations precisely. Your plan was as delicate as it was dangerous. If you turned greedy, it could collapse.

 “I shall ensure she disappears without damage. This, I promise to you, my love. But Aegon,” you squeezed him, and he reached down to grab your wrist, making your hand resume its movement.

 “Aegon must…”

 “I will do it,” he finally agreed to your plan. The hesitation in his voice was palpable, but you knew your husband to be a man of his word. He would do it if he promised he would.

 So you kissed him one more time as he guided your hand around his cock, only a few more strokes away from release. You didn’t resist when he bit your lip and swirled his tongue around yours.

 “I shall be the kinslayer to put a crown on your head, my dear, wicked wife,” he murmured against your lips. It took one to know one. And that was all you needed to hear, so you worked his cock just the way that he liked—the way that drew out ragged moans from his trembling lips.

 He came panting, chasing his pleasure with erratic and desperate jolts and rolls of his hips. You let him, and he fucked your hand until the last drop of his load.

 Aemond’s head was thrown back, his eye shut tight with tremors still going through his hips and groin. He only looked at you when he heard the rustling of your skirt on the stone and marble floor. He watched you—exhausted and having barely caught his breath— as you stepped out of your dress and joined him in the tub. Bubbled bath water splashed on the floor as you straddled him.

 “My king,” you wrapped your arms around his neck and his breath hitched in his throat. If he wasn’t convinced of the plan before, hearing the words from your mouth certainly sealed the deal for him.

 “My cruel, cruel queen.”

 “Only to our enemies, my love. Only to those who would do nought but menace to us.”

 “Oh, whatever would I do without you?” Aemond teased, mockery laced with playfulness. You could let him entertain any notion he liked as long as you got your wishes.

 He was growing hard under you again with each roll of your hips. As his head bowed down to take your nipple in his mouth, you guided him inside you.

 A shared moan escaped your lips as he filled you to the brim and your walls fluttered around him.

 “Don’t—don’t stop,” he pleaded.

 You had no such plans. Not for the night, nor for the future.

  Aemond Tag (let me know if you’d like to be added to it):

@cherishedauthor @schniiipsel @verycollectivecreator @dangerousbluebirdpoetry @aemcndtargaryen @m1ndbrand @iorveth-scoiatael @let-love-bleeds-red @imakeangelscry @midnightindiewolf @queereddie @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @nighttwingg @mllemarianne @lomllino @tinykryptonitewerewolf @mirandastuckinthe80s @loverandqueenofdragons @fultimefangirl @lenasvoid @leilani788 @theekinslayer @dangerousbluebirdpoetry @m00n5t0n3​ @paprikaquinn​ @dearbaji​

[alessiamalfoyzabini]

To Love You

Pairing | wanted!Jimin x princess!Reader

Word Count | 16,1k

Warnings | +18, angst, smut, Jimin is a wanted outlaw, mention of dead parents and conspiracy, the new king is a slimy being, mention of hatred, painful feelings and abandonment, many tears, Jimin is allergic to romantic feelings 💀, murders (sword, poison, torture…), attempted rape, lots of kissing and touching, breast worship, love marks, talks about having a baby, impregnation kink, sex in the woods, virginity loss, unprotected sex, vaginal sex, licking pussy, forcing orgasm, mild fantasy!AU toward the end, this is not for minors.

⤷ Summary | You have been separated from your beloved and your kingdom is under the rule of a heartless man, but all is not lost.

➢ Author's Note | I wrote this story because after Dark Moon I found it hard to part with Jimin, and at the same time I wanted to bring some sweetness to heal my heart a little, I hope you enjoy this story ❤️

ps: all images used for the banner belong exclusively to me!

Permanent Taglist: @katherine-kookie @btsuga-d @reallygenerouskoala @velvet-stardust2002, @takemeaway5402 @angelicsmilesworld @pantara @ke1k029 @btssimpjaneth

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"The multi-murderer Park Jimin here, the rebel leader who has been sowing terror in our lands for years, stealing from our families and killing our children, is sentenced to capital punishment, tomorrow at dawn the gallows will await his head."

A buzz rises in the room, all the attention of those present is focused on the commander of His Majesty's Royal Guards, the man is reading an official communiqué, with every word your heart receives a painful, deafening stinging.

Your eyes are steady on the blond-haired boy, kneeling in the middle of the hall, his mischievous gaze on the king, your uncle.

"The condemned man will be escorted immediately to his cell, where he will remain until the following morning, in the hope that he will repent of his deplorable deeds and ask God for forgiveness."

The boy’s grin deepens, in his ice-colored eyes that contributed to his fame, shines an amused spark, you know what it means… it’s that attitude of his that made you fall in love with him, your Jimin.

"Deplorable is forgetting the poor people you have killed for your own interests, mine was only justice, my lords...there should be someone else in my place, you all know that," the barb aimed directly at the king makes everyone present hold their breath. including you.

To address a tyrant ruler like your uncle in that way is simply insane, by your side you see the man in question clenching his fists and narrowing his gaze, but he dare not go on a rampage, not in front of his subjects, at least.

"Take him to his cell, that's where such a beast deserves to be," the king hisses, and when the guards badly pull Jimin to his feet, he finally looks at you-it's only an instant, but it's enough for you to notice his expression change from mischievous to wistful.

You barely hold back the tears as they take him away, unable to say or do anything, you promised him, you promised him you would do nothing foolish or dangerous, but your heart clenched in a painful grip calls out to him and longs to feel his embrace again, but yours is a secret that must be kept silent and hidden.

You feel a hand wrap itself around your shoulders and you shudder, watching your uncle's dark eyes stare at you suspiciously, the crown jewels shining wickedly on his head, as if mocking you, a princess forgotten by her people.

"Is there something you would like to say, my niece?" his words creep disgustingly down your spine, you want to spit in his face, but you hold back.

You clutch your robes in your hands, imprinting your best smile on your lips.

"No, Your Highness, I am calmer now, finally that outlaw has been caught" uttering those words kills you inside, it is before you the real outlaw, the one who plotted against your father to usurp his throne, you are alive only because you are a sweet and important pawn in your uncle's game, if you want to conquer a new country without shedding blood, you need a precious bargaining chip, no?

And in your veins runs the pure blood of a princess, an opportunity too tempting for your uncle who is already itching to give you away in marriage to who knows what spoiled, deadbeat prince.

You sense a gentler hand pulling you away, it is your wet nurse, sweet old Harun, she curtseys to your uncle and when he turns his attention to the other nobles in the room, the woman finally speaks, "Come, my lady, you must rest now" you let yourself be dragged away from her like a shattered rag doll, once this woman could patch you up, now you doubt that playing another of her games to cheer you up will have the desired effect, the love of your life will be executed tomorrow.

"It's over, Harun," you say with a sob stuck in your throat, "It's really over..." Harun stares at you with tears in her eyes.

After all, she witnessed your love; before he was an outlaw, Jimin was the son of a knight of the king, one of your father's best friends, you grew up together, you watched him practicing with his sword in the imperial gardens, hidden among the hedges as a princess should not have done, he loved practicing with you during dance lessons, you were very close and Harun had never dared to push you away, aware of the importance of a young love like yours.

After your uncle killed the king, Jimin's father rebelled by not accepting the new ruler and found death awaiting him, his family was stripped of its noble title and robbed of all wealth, throwing Jimin into a spiral of hatred and revenge.

He found ways to stir up trouble for the new king and his court by looting their homes or killing important members of their families, you on your side knew he was alive because of the whispers coming from the servants, with regret you realize that you saw his handsome face again as he was kneeling at the new king's feet and it will probably be the last time as well.

Harun gives you time to enter your bedroom, "My lady, Jimin never blamed you for what happened to him."

You smile softly, "I know, he... he is good, Harun, Jimin is good."

The elderly woman nods understandingly, it is when you sit on the bed that you notice something. Before you leave, Harun deliberately lets something slip among your things; it's a key.

"I hope you can both be happy, princess," she says before closing the door behind her.

With slow, tentative steps you reach for the key, you look around fearfully, almost expecting your uncle to pop out from somewhere, ready to accuse you of treachery, but when you grab the key to the castle dungeons nothing of what you imagined happens, you look out your window, the moon in the sky is high and motherly, almost inviting you to follow your heart, and with a salty smile you clutch the key to your chest.

Just for the thoughts invading your mind you deserve condemnation, but what do you have to lose now? If the love of your life dies tomorrow at dawn, then you will stand by his side, not among cruel people looking down on him.

Take a last look at your room, you spent a wonderful childhood within those walls; on the bed wrapped in tulle and silk you embroidered with your mother, on the carpet with your family crest you played while Harun braided your hair, good-naturedly reprimanding you if you spoke a little too loudly and smiling sweetly you remember at the window a young and cunning Jimin climbing a tree to join you in your rooms, that's how your first and only kiss happened, it was a light and chaste touch, but it was enough to leave you with your heart wrapped in joy.

Then it was all over, no more games, laughter or shy hugs at every corner of the castle. The new king ruined everything.

The night welcomes you and slips with you as you move like a shadow within the castle walls, after years of dancing your step is so light that the heels of your shoes do not make the slightest noise, you clutch the light shawl you have carried with you over your shoulders, shivering at the draught that penetrates through the draughts of the dungeons, you have found no guards as you pass, they are all focused on protecting the king and his apartments, the fear of possible revenge from Jimin's men is too vivid for them.

You descend the stone steps covering your nose with your shawl, the smell of mold is strong and makes your eyes water, drops of water whose origin is unknown to you fall from the ceiling, it is so dark that you are forced to take a torch from the wall and use it to light your way, the flame dances sinuously with your every movement and you finally access the last part of the long and winding corridor. A sickening smell of urine overtakes you as you approach the filthy cells, Jimin is locked up in such a place, another wicked way of trying to humiliate him.

There are five cells in all, in front of them you notice a wooden table with two chairs, that's where you immediately go, take the bottle of wine and swallow, you have to.

It's something you've always thought of reserving for your uncle someday, but Jimin's life is more important, so you firmly detach the thin chain you've been wearing around your neck since your father's death from your neck, you look one last time at the silver pendant with your family crest, then you open it with a small click and its contents are revealed, you throw a few pieces of the wolfsbane root into the wine, hoping that the guards will drink it before they realize what had been done, and with a shuddering breath you hide the necklace in the pockets of your dress.

Then, as if you hadn't just poisoned the bottle, you slowly make your way to the dirty rooms enclosed by old iron bars, you illuminate the cramped space of each cell by the torchlight flame, you notice beds of dirty, old straw and dark stains on the wall, you don't even want to imagine what it could be.

You notice a soft humming, it is gentle and sweet, you swallow recognizing the melody, he is there.

You approach the last cell with your heart in your throat, you haven't seen him in years, you don't know exactly how he will react to your presence, you repeat Harun's words in your head as you use the key she gave you to open the cell, the noise is creepy as you open the rusted iron door, the shadows inside are even more so.

You take a step in there, your feet meet more straw, it is so dark that you can only rely on the torch you clutch in your hand and the moonlight filtering through a tiny barred window, you try to look around but suddenly the flame goes out, the loss of light provokes in you the instinct to scream, but one hand rushes to close your mouth while another grabs you by the side, holding you to a warm body you didn't think you could touch again.

You shudder when the tip of his nose lightly brushes your neck, and you are inflamed to realize that he is inhaling your fragrance. You feel him smile against your skin before leaving a kiss on it that makes you lose several beats and your hair stand up pleasantly.

"What's a princess like you doing in a place like this... with someone like me?" he whispers in your ear as the tempting devil would, you'd be lying if you said he had no effect on you, your mind and body are hopelessly drawn to him.

His hand releases your mouth and reaches down to your neck, tightening it in a deliberately weak grip, you lick your lips before responding.

"I'm here to set you free, Jimin," you say softly, this makes him snort in amusement.

"Set me free? Oh, Y/N... I'm not afraid to die" you tremble when he says your name and turn in his arms, you try to look into his eyes but the only thing you catch is the dangerous glint in them.

"I do, I am afraid! I don't want you to die, Jimin..." you whisper in a broken voice and finally allow yourself to embrace him, rest your head on his warm chest and although he doesn't reciprocate, he does nothing to stop you.

It's a strange feeling you feel, he left you he was a skinny little boy full of rage, now he is a man facing death head on, but you are not ready to let him go one more time.

"And I don't want you to be here when the guards come back, this is high treason to the crown, Y/N," he growls looking at the open cell door and clutching your shoulders, he wants you to leave, you know.

"Do you think I care? No, Jimin... I stopped being a princess when my father and mother died, when you were forced to leave and left me alone" you say the last word bitterly, "If I die saving you, I will accept my fate."

He slowly pushes you back, each step brings you closer to the light filtering through the small window, and when you end up with your back to the wall, you can finally see clearly the face of the man he has become and your breath catches, his peculiar eyes hold a torment that does not shine through in his brazen voice, you raise a hand to his face and shyly brush the line of his jaw, his golden locks shine under the moonlight glow, it is shocking.

"You don't even know what you're saying, you're a silly princess who's read too many books and now thinks she can save an outlaw" he laughs softly shaking his head, "Go back to your room, Y/N and forget me" when he turns away from you and you lose the little hold you have on him, the world comes crashing down on you.

Forget him? He has no idea how many years you spent waiting for him, hoping he would take you away from your uncle's clutches, he never came to get you and yet you never stopped hoping, you shake your head looking at him sorrowfully. It is easy for him to say such a thing, after all, he has already left you in his past, a past he has turned his back on.

"You're probably right, I'm a silly princess who has read too many books and now wants to save an outlaw, but I won't forget you," you hiss feeling a sudden surge of anger, because if you gave in to the sadness that now clutches your heart you would find yourself crying on your knees and he doesn't deserve that, "It may have been very easy for you to make me disappear from your mind and heart, but don't think we're the same in this."

He does not answer you, you know he is gritting his teeth by the rhythmic click of his jaw, you thought you had found him and instead you are looking at a stranger.

"You've grown ... and you've changed," you whisper before turning toward the exit with a chill in your body, "The cell is open and the guards are focused on protecting the king, you pretty much have the coast clear."

Before you can leave, his voice stops you.

"What will happen to you? Every action has a repercussion, princess."

You smile without amusement; it's ridiculous how he avoids facing your feelings by pretending they don't exist.

"Don't waste your time on me and go, it's not even certain that they will find out," you sigh with one last look at the man who stole your heart and soul before freezing you, he now has his hands clasped around the bars of the window, as if he refuses to look at you. It is stupid what you are about to do, but you need one last test.

You let your shawl slide to the ground; if it is still in the straw tomorrow, you will be condemned in Jimin's place; if, on the other hand, the guards do not find it, it means the boy has taken it with him. You know you are being selfish, but you wish a part of you would stay with him, even though he would probably like not to think of you again.

"Jimin!" one of his friends notices him, and relief is immediate in the group.

They welcome him with open arms as he collapses to the ground, tired but happy to still have his head attached to his neck.

"We were already prepared to intervene during the public trial, but this changes everything! How did you escape?" Hoseok asks him with wide eyes, Jimin brings a hand to his damp and dirty hair, seriously in need of a bath after spending a night running through dirty streets and dirt.

"I was helped ... by a friend, let's say," he replies through clenched teeth, gratefully taking the water bottle Yoongi is handing him.

"A friend? Some servant girl you've had fun with in the past?" asks Taehyung smoothly, receiving a blow on the head from Namjoon.

It is Seokjin who notices the shawl that Jimin has tied around his waist, masterfully takes it before the boy can even notice and ignores the latter's protests.

"I'd say a princess," he says with a smile, spreading the fabric and displaying the royal family crest under the sunlight, "I knew it, she-"

"Stop. I know what you are going to say and I urge you to go no further," Jimin growls taking back your shawl, "She belongs in that castle."

"Kidnapping a princess is easy, so what's your problem?" in a not at all gentle way, Jungkook voices the question that has always crossed everyone's mind.

"Her place is not in that castle, everyone in the kingdom knows that ever since Cobra killed his brother and sister-in-law, he wants to use his niece as a bargaining chip with all countries provided with an heir" Namjoon looks at him sternly, but Jimin sighs.

"She is a princess, that is her duty."

He clutches your shawl tightly before getting up from the ground and heading to his tent, your place is not by his side, you are safer in that castle, whoever went against that foolish new king met his death, he will never forget the life in his father's eyes that faded away, nor the flames that burned his house and the king's guards that captured his mother and brothers, you will not end up the same way because of his selfishness, if leaving you by your uncle's side will preserve your life, then he will give up on you.

He clutches tightly at the fabric that still carries your sweet scent of vanilla and cookies, it was devastating to have had you next to him again without being able to hold you as he would have liked, for a moment the memories of childhood lulled him tenderly, but you are two different people now, he is different and must let you go, it is for your own good he thinks as he ties your shawl around his duffle bag, trying not to think back to the pain in your voice as you left the cell.

Someday, when you have a family of your own, you will understand the reason behind his every action.

The walls tremble at the king's shouts, he is furious.

Everyone in the hall looks at each other nervously, you keep your vacant and tired gaze, it has been three days since Park Jimin's escape and your uncle shows no sign of ending his fury, he has executed five guards and two nobles of his court suspected of helping Jimin with the escape. The reason is the poison found in the wine that killed the sentries who were on guard that night; it is a plant found only in the royal gardens and only the king and the nobles of his court have access to it.

"Who dared to betray the king?" is the question circulating among those in the hall as you crinkle the skirt of your gown with nervous fingers, not regretting helping Jimin, but breathing the heavy air of these days is not easy.

"Who do you think could have done it, my niece?" when your uncle whispers the question in your ear you stiffen.

"I don't have enough evidence to accuse anyone, Your Majesty, the only thing I can say is that it must have been a fool with no conscience," you reply in as firm a tone as possible, your uncle scrutinizing you from head to toe before nodding.

"Yeah, a fool..." he hisses shifting his gaze to his nobles, out of the corner of your eye you notice Harun looking at you from the front door with sadness.

She expected Jimin to take you away with him, and truthfully you had hoped for that at first too, but you can't force a person to love you, it's a good thing things turned out this way, you can finally stop chasing a ghost and wishing for something you will never have.

When that day's reunion ends, you can finally be free to wander around the castle, what you don't expect is to find the king in your safe place, your mother's private little garden.

"Sire..." you whisper strangely, the king never dared to enter there, everything about those lush plants and flowers carries the memory of your mother, a beautiful and sensitive woman, but also very strong. She did not shy away from her brother-in-law's sword when he pointed it at her chest.

"Y/N, you are doing a very good job here," he nods in the direction of the white lilies in the height of their bloom, you do nothing to approach the man, you have always discreetly driven away his presence, but it is one thing to leave his halls, another to leave a place you consider your own, this may make him too suspicious.

He, however, seems not to notice your lack of response, too busy studying the many plants in the small garden.

"Go ahead and sit down and read one of your books, nephew...I'm just here to find some peace...I confess, Park Jimin's escape troubles me," he casts you a little glance and you clear your throat.

"You are the king, he cannot harm you in here, Sire."

The man nods weakly, but still looks tense.

"Oh, I know I am the king, my dear niece, but the idea that a traitor could live within the walls of my castle does not let me sleep at night."

You grit your teeth.

His castle? The castle he forcibly wrested from you and your family?

This is another humiliation to which you cannot respond as you actually want to, you swallow the knot in your throat.

"Precisely why I'm so disappointed... in you" you squint, possible...  "Y/N, I kept you alive when I took the throne years ago, you were such a pretty and malleable child, but maybe not enough" he continues before shaking off the dark cloak and pulling out something that locks your breath in your lungs.

In his fist he clutches your necklace, the one that contained the poison and that you thought you had hidden in the sewn folds of your dress, you don't know what to say, so you try to pretend.

"Oh! You found it, I've been looking for it for days," you exclaim in the most surprised tone you can imitate, but the man doesn't seem to be playing along with you.

"Don't lie to me, Y/N, this necklace was found inside the cell where Park Jimin was locked up, I had heard rumors about your childish feelings for that outlaw, but to go that far? To go so far as to betray me? I spared your life, I never denied you and your title of princess! I raised you as if you were my own daughter!" he shouts, violently pulling off a wolfsbane root hidden among the lilies.

Something snaps inside you at his insinuations, an anger you've been hatching for years that has never found an outlet.

"Raised as a daughter? You killed my father and mother for a crown! You put power and wealth first, you deprived me of a family, you did the same to Jimin and claim to pass as a victim now! You are a vile monster!"

Your uncle is quick to draw the same sword with which he had remorselessly severed your father's head, he points it at your throat and it is so close that you feel the blade press against your skin enough to scratch it, you inhale deeply trying to block the fear that makes your heart gallop against your rib cage.

"I am the king, I don't allow a foolish girl to judge my actions, I realize I was wrong to spare you that night...but what should I do with you now? Should I kill you now or..." a mad light flashes in his eyes, "Of course... a condemned will be there, you will take the place of your beloved Jimin," he hisses in your face, a slow smile makes room on your cheeks contrary to what the man expected.

He expected you to burst into tears and fall to your knees begging him to spare you, but you will not, you will honor your mother's memory.

"You're just a coward," you whisper amused, at which the man's face turns red with fury.

"Guards! Guards!" he shouts at that point, six men enter by breaking through the glass door from which you enter to reach your mother's garden, shards of glass surround you along with the soldiers, you have no escape and so you merely chill the king with your gaze, "Lock her up in the highest and most isolated tower of the castle, I sentence the princess to death for helping the dangerous fugitive Park Jimin escape from my prisons!"

"Your day will come, too, Uncle," you hiss furiously, "And when you find him before your eyes, you will fall to your knees begging him to spare your life, but he will not be so merciful," you announce proudly, not needing to utter Jimin's name to alert your uncle, the way he suddenly whitens is already an answer for you, you keep smiling as an austere-looking man tugs you badly, forgetting that he has a princess on his hands, or maybe they don't care, it's the king who matters to them.

As you are thrown to the floor inside what will be your final chamber, darkness engulfs you once the door is closed.

You cough hard involuntarily inhaling the air thick with dust and dirt, your eyes burn and you do not know whether from tears or from the irritants in the room, the only thing you are sure of is that tomorrow your entire kingdom will know of your death sentence.

They will probably learn of that news with indifference, wondering why the king did not kill you earlier, along with the rest of your family.

You often ask yourself that too, if he had killed you then, you would have died basking in the thought that Jimin loved you and would remember you forever.

"Let's move, we need to refuel in town before we leave," says Seokjin starting to saddle his horse, Namjoon on the other hand is busy cataloging all their stuff to avoid losing anything after yet another move.

"Taehyung's not back yet?" complains Hoseok snortingly, picking up the "stupid guy's" bag, Jungkook shrugs in response.

They sent Taehyung to check the situation in town, moving in a group would have been dangerous; it's always better to check one at a time that the coast is clear.

"Strange, he should be here already," Jimin whispers as he squints, their momentary safe place in the heart of the forest is now almost completely clear, only Taehyung is missing.

"Maybe he's found something interesting," murmurs Yoongi crossing his arms and staring at an unspecified point toward the horizon, everyone staring at him in confusion before hearing Taehyung's voice.

"Jimin!" exclaimed Taehyung coming galloping in a breathless gallop, Hoseok cursing.

"I hope no one saw you running and screaming like that, you asshole," he growls, but Taehyung overtakes him with wide eyes and a paper clutched in his hand.

"Jimin, it's about the princess!" silence instantly replaces the protests of the others, Jimin stiffens as he stares guardedly at the paper Taehyung is clutching so desperately, "That fool of a king-" is interrupted by his friend who snatches the flyer from his hands to read it himself.

A boulder falls into his stomach and the ground is as if shaking beneath his feet, the king has sentenced you to death, you will end up hanging with a noose around your neck for helping him escape, he clutches the piece of paper tightly, shaking with fury.

You should not have helped him, you should not have risked your life for someone like him, when he thinks of how he treated you before you left he feels only immense shame.

"We should have kidnapped her when I proposed it," Jungkook sighs before saddling his horse as well.

"Saving her is the more appropriate term," Yoongi corrects him, adjusting his leather vest before turning to Jimin, "What do you want to do now?"

Jimin lets out a laugh full of malice, his adamantine eyes shining as he observes the king's seal in the communiqué.

"Are you still convinced that leaving her in that castle is the only way to keep her safe?" asks Namjoon sarcastically, Jimin shakes his head.

"In light of the new events, I would say no," he sighs reluctantly, handing the communiqué to Hoseok.

"The execution is in two days, we have to find a way to get into the castle and find her."

"He probably locked her up in the most isolated tower, he did the same with her mother before he killed her, it's as if he enjoys seeing them wallowing in fear," the blond man forcefully clutches a twig picked from the ground before snapping it in two, wishing he had the king's neck in his hands.

"Now with all those guards circling her it will be harder to kidnap a princess, but nothing is impossible for us," sneers Jungkook, but Jimin doesn't seem thrilled at the idea of having you back by his side, filling him with unease and remorse, reminding him of all the years he was absent and didn't really care how you might feel sitting side by side with the monster who killed your parents.

Someone squeezes his shoulder in comfort, it is Jin who is looking at him with a smile, "Hey, if you explain everything to her she will understand, from what you told me, she seems like a smart and intelligent girl."

Jimin grins slightly and nods.

"She is."

You look out the small tower window with tears in your eyes, you don't know how many hours you have been crying now, what your uncle did was deplorable and cruel.

You were allowed to sleep with your sweet old Harun beside you, you had to imagine that behind that concession was the cruel promise of a snake.

‘With the princess dead, there is no need for a wet nurse anymore’ is what the king said before ordering the guards to carry Harun away to the outside, exactly in the direction of your window, before they began to slaughter her amidst the screams of both of you, you shook the bars at the window of the hope of breaking them and reaching her, but it had all been in vain, Harun died almost immediately, she preferred not to withstand the blows to spare you the suffering of watching her fight like an animal for who knows how long.

Your throat burns as you sob, her body is still there, no one has gone to cover her, they are simply waiting for the ravens to arrive.

You slowly fall to your knees letting go of your grip on the bars, your hands are encrusted with blood and your nails are broken, you clutch your hands to your chest remembering your wet nurse who apologized to you the night before for encouraging you to free Jimin, repeating numerous times that she firmly believed you would run away together.

You feel guilty, perhaps if you had not requested Harun's presence, she would not have come into the king's sights, you find yourself wishing the hours would pass quickly, you do not want to be alone with your thoughts, they are too scary, death in comparison seems like a sweet promise.

Suddenly you hear the creak of the old door opening, for a moment - your despite yourself - you brighten up, believing you'll find Jimin ready to help you, but the dream soon shatters once again, it's not Jimin, it's one of the guards, and then you frown, what is he doing here? The king has expressly ordered that no one should speak to you again.

"What do you want, sir?" you ask with a strange feeling in your stomach, the guard sneers.

"A change of room, the king has ordered it," you stare at the open door, then back at the guard, it's a boy who looks familiar to you, he has black hair and droopy eyes.

You don't ask any further questions, you get up from the floor and shaking off the dust you let him grab you by the arm, though you grit your teeth in anger you dare not say anything, it's still better than having chains on your wrists and ankles.

He takes you outside urgently, you don't see the other guards and it makes you suspicious, you remember there were at least three outside the door, what is going on?

It is when you get to the fourth flight of stairs that you feel a violent grip on your shoulder before you are forced into a small, dark room, perhaps a closet used by the servants to store items, you scream with all your might, but the man's slimy mouth immediately covers yours, it is disgusting as you try to force his tongue between your lips and with a firm conk in your throat you bite it off with all your might.

This makes him flinch away with a yelp, it's dark and you can't see anything, you can only imagine him probing his tongue with his fingers to make sure it's still attached, you spit out his blood shuddering.

"You know..." he begins panting, "I've never been with a princess, I must say you are much better than servants," he laughs like a maniac returning again to his intent, trying to lift your dress skirts, but every time he tries to sneak his hand in, he always finds a kick to hit it badly.

With your heart engaged in a mad rush, you try to defend yourself as best you can, you've never been in a situation like this, but you won't let this happen, ever.

You desperately grope for something behind you, his wine-smelling breath twisting your guts and when he comes to lick your neck you manage to hold on to something cold and spiky, you don't even need to ask for forgiveness for what you are about to do, you don't even feel a hint of guilt as you start hitting him viciously wherever you can, with a snarl he tries to block your hands but you manage to knock him unconscious with one last blow.

You open the door to the small room to escape and the man's body collapses to the floor, you finally recognize him, he is the son of the guards' captain, and a rush of satisfaction fills your chest as you think back to what they did to Harun, then you suddenly realize you are free.

You don't know exactly where you're going to go, but you have a chance to escape and you're not going to miss a golden opportunity like that.

To enter the castle they used an old and dense series of underground tunnels leading to every corner of the palace, to be on the safe side Jimin chose the one that would lead them to the kitchens populated only by servants at certain times.

"Well, we're in," Hoseok snorts, shaking cobwebs from his clothes in disgust, "Now what?"

"We should split up and check every single tower, just in case," proposes Seokjin nabbing an apple from the basket in the large kitchen, Jimin looks around wistfully, brushing against the massive old wooden table he remembers all the afternoons spent with you stealing cookies with the complicity of Harun and the cook, with the old housekeeper always at your heels repeating to you to go back to the lessons with the riding teacher.

"Be careful, the castle is swarming with soldiers," the blond warns them before going on his way, refusing to take anyone else with him.

He moves through the shadows of the palace, making sure to avoid every corner illuminated by the light of the flashlights hanging on the walls of almost every corridor, his stride is light despite the leather boots he is wearing, he is getting closer and closer to the throne room and he shouldn't, he is there to save you, but... if he kills the king you will ascend to the throne.

He tries to calm his breathing, the idea of coming face to face again with the man responsible for his downfall is too much for him, it would be delightful to sever the head from his neck and proclaim a new ruler, one man's death would be enough to end both of their nightmares.

Before he can even really realize it, he has reached the vicinity of the throne room, hidden behind a secluded corner he watches the guards lurking at each corner of the door.

Opening his palm he slowly slides a dagger down his arm to his wrist, grasps the handle foretasting the moment when he will plunge the blade into the living flesh of the two soldiers in the king's service, one of them yawns sonorously and keeps his eyes almost completely closed, receiving a shove from the other.

"Hey, I'm going for a check-up, try not to fall asleep as usual, you boar," he growls before putting his hand on the sword hilt and walking away looking around.

Jimin sneers as he licks his lower lip, drops his cloak hood and calmly approaches the displeased man.

"Why do I always have to stay on guard?" he hears him mutter, "That prick really turns my-" the words stop in the middle of his throat while Jimin is cutting it, it is such a smooth movement his that it now seems remarkably natural.

The man doesn't resist, he moans in a hushed voice as he collapses to the ground accompanied by the blond man who doesn't mind the blood smeared on his cloak, the stench of alcohol the soldier exudes, he can swear he was too drunk to try to react in any other way, everything seems to be going in his favor and he can't help but bask in the pleasure of what is about to take place.

When he enters the great throne room, he cannot help but think of the time when he found himself kneeling before the king in a humiliating position, but that night everything will be reversed.

The young man remembers the walls finished in gold and silver, but the frescoes proclaiming King Cobra as the victor are new, depicting hunting scenes and valiant battles to feed the man's narcissistic side, but they are all lies, Jimin knows and so does Cobra himself.

The king's back is turned and he is holding his hands behind his back, he is carefully watching something from the high windows of the throne room, perhaps he does not sense the presence creeping behind him or simply ignores it, the fact is that when Jimin points his sword at his back, the man does not move an inch, he remains ice cold.

"I knew you would come back for her, Jimin," there is an amused note in his voice, Jimin thins his gaze.

"For her? I came back to kill you," the boy growls, pressing the gleaming blade harder.

"Um..." the man brings a hand to his face to smooth his long beard, "So you don't care about Y/N or what might happen to her at this very moment."

A trace of insecurity quickly passes through Jimin's icy eyes, he grits his teeth before uttering the words he would not want left his lips, "Exactly, I'm just here to settle a score."

"Oh, well ... then, before you settle this unfinished score, why don't you enjoy the show with me?" the sardonic question awakens Jimin's sixth sense, as he lifts his gaze over the king's shoulder and toward the stained glass windows, just outside the garden that would later lead inside the bramble forest.

Immediately he feels the blood freeze in his veins, he rolls his eyes and tries to keep his calm demeanor, but inside he is dying.

You are there.

You're running toward the forest with a soldier behind you gaining more and more ground, you're too tired and petite to outrun him, you won't make it.

"So what? Will you take my life and satisfy your revenge or will you run to save the princess in danger?" chuckles Cobra, Jimin hisses strengthening his grip and tearing at the king's gaudy robes with the tip of his blade, he knows what he has to do, the answer is so obvious, but letting go of such a being is unthinkable for him, unbearable.

With a snarl he pushes the king away, who rolls badly to the ground, and before he can even comprehend what has just happened, Jimin puts his sword to his throat, the blade shining under the dim light of the candles and longing for the young man to go forward, to pierce the flesh of that worm and sever his head from the rest of his body, but all that does not happen.

Jimin's eyes are now as dark as darkness, he uncovers his teeth like a snarling wolf, "I will return, Your Majesty... and when you see me again, you will pray for God to save you, for I will have no mercy on your dark soul," he hisses, hurling a slash toward the king, then heading quickly and in a blind fury toward the exit of the hall.

Cobra with wide eyes grazes his own face, slowly a wound opens under his left eye and blood stains his hands.

You hiss in pain with every thorn that sticks in your legs, your dress is torn in several places and you try to catch your breath as you pray that the soldier will not find you.

You have ended up in the bramble forest so feared in your kingdom and every movement of the wild plants that inhabit it makes you tremble with terror, everything is dark and cold, you can only hear the cry of the owls that watch your silent struggle mocking you.

You manage to crawl painfully behind a large and imposing tree, lift your skirt and observe the pitiful condition of your legs, bite your lower lip with tears in your eyes, your skin is full of scratches and blood, but you can still run.

You try to pick yourself up, but noises of broken branches block your every movement, you stand with bated breath as someone wanders through the trees.

"Come here, little flower... let's go back to your room," you hear him humming with amusement, "I don't know how you got out, but you won't be punished, you're still a princess after all."

You tremble with cold and fear, it is obvious that the man is not telling the truth, you have seen your uncle's men act before and you know they know no kindness or mercy.

"Our sweet..." you frown as you follow the man's footsteps with your ears, you can't make out which direction he is coming from, "Princess..." you see something moving quickly out of the corner of your eye to your right, you spontaneously throw yourself to the left to avoid it, believing it to be the guard, but to your horror you realize it is a small fox, "... Y/N! " you scream with all your might when hands yank you away, you manage to free yourself only because the man's grip is weak, at which point you run away again.

"Run, princess, run! I'll find you again anyway!" he laughs excitedly at the idea of hunting after months locked in the castle protecting the king's life.

You are tired, your eyesight is getting more and more fatigued, you just want everything to be over as soon as possible. You don't even know where you might go in case you escape the man, you will always be hunted down by the king and his array of soldiers, the idea of giving up everything and accepting the end you will make crosses your mind, even if it means saying goodbye to Jimin for good.

Bramble bushes once again block your way, they stick to your skin and dress, they seem to be on the side of your assailant, you can no longer escape, it's over.

"Gotcha, princess" you feel his heavy breath on your neck, his arms grip you tightly before he lifts you up by weight and throws you into the shaggy, dry grass, "Look at you... actually you don't look like a princess anymore, you look like a dirty peasant girl" he chuckles, kneeling down in front of you, he touches your hair and you glower at him.

"Don't touch me, you dirty mangy dog" you growl, slapping his hand, the man's expression changes, it is no longer cheerful, now he looks resentful.

"You have such peasant language, your mother didn't live long enough to teach you manners, but I'll teach you a good lesson," he says before lifting a hand, ready to slap you in the face.

As your wide eyes stare at the man's heavy hand, your ears feel something move across the grass and stomp on it, then the sound of a slash lashing the air and suddenly you are free, the man falls to the side holding his neck but desperately reaching for the dagger hidden in his leather belt amid curses and expletives.

"Jimin..." you whisper as you see a golden flash in the darkness of the forest, the shadow falls hard on your assailant and you find yourself forcefully closing your eyes to avoid looking at that gruesome spectacle, you listen in disgust to the intense barks of the dying man.

Then everything falls silent.

You feel Jimin's presence approaching your huddled figure on the ground and you don't know how to act.

He has certainly saved your life, but he has just killed a man and you are the granddaughter of the king who took everything away from him; he is no longer the Jimin of when you were an innocent child.

"Are you all right?" he kneels at your side with a certain formality and coldness in his tone of voice, as if trying to keep his distance, hurting you.

You slowly rise up avoiding looking him in the eye, "I'm alive, so yeah... I'm fine," you whisper dimly, hissing when you try to stand up and your legs resume burning painfully, you clench your flayed fingers into small fists and when he notices them he cannot forbid himself a barely concealed dry breath.

"One moment, let me see," he offers, already grabbing a flap of your torn dress, instantly freezing when he meets your eyes wide with embarrassment.

What he was about to do is disgraceful as well as incredibly intimate.

"It's nothing, I can still walk... can you help me reach the village? I might find someone willing to let me board by ship," you ask gritting your teeth, the forest finally gains some light and you can make out the young man's surprised expression.

Your gaze falls on his black robes, although it is not very clear you understand that the darker stains correspond to the blood of the man he has just killed and to whom you dare not even cast a glance, you swallow wondering why apart from your disgust at the blood, it does not bother you at all.

"I am here to save you, princess," he murmurs decisively, "Going to the village is not safe, you can only trust me," at his words you tighten your lips into a tight line.

"If you really want to save me, then stop talking to me in that tone, we grew up together as friends, stop pulling away from me" you whisper sadly, the boy shows a flash of displeasure as your words sink into his heart, behind him several men on their horses begin to approach, one of whom is unridden.

"Jimin, more guards are coming!" exclaims a boy with hair as dark as a raven's feathers and tenacious eyes, and tossing him the reins of the riderless horse, the animal is magnificent, its coat as white as milk and its mane shining like the most precious gold.

Orobel.

With tears in your eyes you recognize the foal your father gave Jimin for his 12th birthday. He is much bigger and more majestic now, a force of nature in every way.

"You must come with us if you want to save your life, princess," says another, his shoulders broad and posture proud, he looks like the leader of the group, a large bow protrudes from his back.

You send down a knot in your throat when Jimin extends a hand toward you encouragingly, "We must go, don't be afraid of them, they are my trusted comrades, Y/N."

Your name uttered by his sweet lips shakes you to the core, he may not be aware of the effect he still has on you and you want to cry like a little girl when he helps you up from the muddy ground and hoist you onto Orobel, if he somehow notices your glazed eyes, he says nothing, probably blaming the wounds on your legs.

You really wish it were that way.

Jimin is chopping wood with an axe, he is shirtless and you watch from a distance, sitting on the grass and wrapped in a clean, heavy cloak, it is the only thing the boys have found suitable for you to protect you from the evening wind.

You notice a few drops of sweat sliding down his neck and then down to his muscular chest as he flexes his arms to strike yet another wooden stump, you swallow with a slight blush dusted on your cheeks, you didn't remember his physique being so grown up, it's all new to you as well as incredibly embarrassing.

Out of the corner of your eye you notice Yoongi picking some herbs not far from you, it makes you feel uncomfortable to have to live with so many men; when your uncle took you into custody, he didn't allow any boys to get close to you, he wanted to keep you pure for his plans. Thinking back to the man who didn't think twice about sentencing you to death paralyzes you. You have to hold on until you find your own place to stay, you doubt that Jimin will ever want you by his side; therefore, you have to think personally about your future, even if it is painful to think about.

Being with them, you get a little insight into everyone's roles within the group.

Seokjin is certainly the leader as well as an experienced archer. You have observed him several times taking aim and hitting his intended target accurately, plus he has an aura around him that inspires confidence and trust. On the other hand, Taehyung looks a bit like the jester of the situation, but you have seen him wielding daggers to catch various animals and never wished to take their place, it is clear that behind that sunny smile he hides a soul as dark as the others.

Namjoon would rather observe and devise traps than take part in an actual confrontation, but it is clear that he would never back down in the face of a real threat, just as Yoongi, who plays the role of doctor in the group, helped you bandage your fingers and legs when you arrived at their camp and was incredibly quiet, not that you felt like talking still upset after the events of the night.

Then there are Hoseok and Jungkook, both of whom are the hunters, their job is to find and kill all possible threats in the surroundings, lest their lair be found and besieged by the king's men.

Also, you found out that Jimin is a master of swords.

He masters his steel blade so lightly and sinuously that it seems to dance when he moves and lashes the air.

You are in the midst of wolves, but it doesn't scare you too much, you know they won't hurt you, or so you assume after those five days spent in their company.

You feel a figure stop behind you, you raise your head and have to squint to avoid being blinded by the sun's rays, slowly you make out the form of Yoongi who bends respectfully at your height. His feline-cut eyes seem to invite you to listen to him.

"I can see you are tired, princess, and I know you haven't slept well since you've been here," he begins with a thoughtful look, "Taehyung has managed to find suitable clothes for you and there is a safe lake nearby, I invite you to freshen up and put on something clean before resting, you will surely feel better," he says with a small reassuring smile.

You frown, undecided about what to do, the idea of a bath tantalizes you almost overbearingly, but the embarrassment if one of them were to see you naked would be too much to bear, and Yoongi seems to understand that.

"The lake is far enough away from the camp, none of us here are planning to go to that area at the moment, it is completely safe and isolated, you need not fear anything," he hastens to specify, "I will just accompany you, I will be back here immediately."

"I... thank you, Yoongi" you smile gratefully, finally trusting the boy.

"I'll go get you those clothes, wait here for a moment," you nod, sighing slightly; you turn back to Jimin, but find to your disappointment that he has disappeared.

Yoongi leaves you by the lake, the path back to the camp is not difficult; so, you assure the man that you will have no trouble. He leaves you with a shadow of doubt etched on his face, but you pay no attention to it; you walk to the lakeshore and breathe in the air at the top of your lungs, enjoying the blue sky and the fluffy clouds that sail across it like ships.

When you finally reach the lake, you feed on the sight of the crystal-clear water, the temptation to undress is very strong, but tightening your lips into a line you look around suspiciously.

Stripping off completely would be too much, so you decide to stay in your petticoat, shivering at the breeze rattling the tree foliage, you hang your clothes from the branch of an old felled log nearby.

You turn toward the shore and treading over the small stones and grass you finally slowly begin to enter the water, sighing at the almost freezing temperature.

As the water reaches your belly you hear something emerge noisily from the lake, widening your eyes you find yourself screaming and covering your chest as best you can, wordlessly you see Jimin with his eyes closed bringing back his blond, golden-strand-like hair, the movement is magnetic, and you are practically naked. No, both of you are naked.

You flinch down with the water now up to your chin and your heart in your throat, peering warily at the boy who notices you only at that moment and stares at you wordlessly at first, you notice his jaw snap rigidly and his clear eyes darken, before turning away.

"I'm done, I'm leaving right now," he says raising his voice slightly to be heard, "I just needed to get the sweat off of me," he looks uncomfortable as he tries hard not to let his eyes slide to you.

A squeeze in your stomach is all you get from his words.

"Jimin..." you call out to him as he begins to swim toward the shore, the bitter feeling like gall at seeing him move further and further away from you once again has become unbearable, "So that's it? You don't want me?" his bare shoulders tremble slightly, and you don't know whether from the cold of the water or from your words.

You don't really expect to see him coming back toward you, but that's exactly what he does by moving at an extraordinary speed, he almost looks like a water creature, then he is in front of you in his full height, water droplets glide along his perfect skin and you swallow trying not to look at his bare chest or even lower, suddenly feeling like a little girl under the icy depths of his eyes.

"You're going to get sick, Y/N... Look, your lips are already purple," he whispers, brushing your lower lip with his thumb, stroking it gently, and you feel yourself suddenly go on fire.

"Can't you just answer me to end this suffering?" you beg him with moist eyes, Jimin sighs before shaking his head, reaching up to brush your hair.

"I am not suitable for you, Y/N," he mutters it almost angrily, wishing to put an end to this.

"Or am I not suitable for you, maybe that's what you think" you smile sadly and bitterly, "I'm sorry to still be a bother to you."

"You are not a bother" he almost growls those words and you sigh shaking your head.

"Then I will be soon, you will meet a beautiful woman, marry her and have your own family, that same woman will then wonder when I will disappear from your life forever and at that point there will be no place for me even in your memories," you say shakily, "That is, if there are still memories of me in your heart."

You follow the movement of his neck as he tilts to let his eyes peer deep into your soul, his serious, thoughtful expression leaving you interjected.

He doesn't seem to want to deny but not even admit your words; it's as if he, too, is as confused as you are.

His gaze moves further down, there where your thin robe has stuck to your body because of the water, you realize with shame that it has become transparent and revealing, but you decide not to cover yourself.

You want him to look at you, to see that you are no longer a child, that you have grown up and that your body is that of a girl in her prime.

"My real problem, Y/N ... is that I'm sure I've met that woman before, but I don't feel worthy to be around her, not when I abandoned her in a castle to pursue my revenge," he whispers, the sky-blue color of his eyes seems to become more watery, "I can't forgive myself for putting her on the back burner, that's the truth," you hear the pain in his voice, the one that was missing that night in the cell when you freed him.

The need to hug him and hold him to you suddenly becomes more suffocating, with a sob you throw yourself into his arms and this time he doesn't stay stiff as marble, his arms wrap around you like a silk blanket and you find refuge in his chest.

His skin is warm against your cheek and it's a feeling you didn't think you would experience again, the boy sinks his face into your hair and leaves a kiss on your temple, before brushing the tip of his nose against you and smiling softly.

"There will never be a woman who will make me forget you," despite his words, you feel sad, still incomplete.

You sigh against his neck and close your eyes, you have gotten used to the temperature of the water and its warmth helps to relax you.

"But there will be a woman who will take you away from me" you point out in a colorless voice, when he doesn't respond you decide to loosen your sudden embrace, "I'm tired of waiting for you, Jimin" you let go of the ripples in the water, swimming back to the shore without taking your eyes off the boy who still seems to be in doubt, then a small, amused smile stretches across your face, "I'll have to find a real man who knows what it means to love a woman," you taunt him, reaching down to a shallow spot in the lake bottom, wanting to give him a taste of his own medicine.

You begin to lower the straps of your now useless robe, abandoning all symptoms of shame, you want him to react or get angry in some way, you want a reaction from him and you get it, "Maybe Yoongi? I have to admit, he's very charming and he certainly knows what he wants, he could give me-" before you can even finish speaking, Jimin pulls you toward him grabbing you by the wrist, you only have time to make a surprised sound before his lips manage to cover yours in an impetuous, possession-filled kiss.

You hear your heart beating at a rapid pace in your ears, you did not expect your second kiss to happen this way, he seems exasperated as he presses himself against your mouth for more direct and intimate contact, you open your mouth slightly when his tongue dabs roughly on your lower lip.

It is a man who is kissing you, no longer the kid of your memories, and he seems more than willing to let you know it when one of his hands comes down to tenderly squeeze your throbbing neck, he smiles against your lips when he realizes that your heart seems to want to leave your chest and he separates himself from you with one last caress of his softest petals.

"I haven't even kissed you properly and your heart is already exploding," he chuckles with a spark of mischief in his clear eyes, "And who would you like to give such purity to, Yoongi?" he shakes his head hissing those words like an angry snake ready to attack.

You clench the hand that is still wrapped around your neck and strengthen his grip, wishing that the feel of his fingers on your skin would stay with you, "I've always wanted it to be yours, Jimin," you say softly, tilting your head at the slow descent of his hand.

"I'm very different from the nobles you grew up with, Y/N.... Don't expect me to catch you with a petticoat on," he continues by caressing a thin strap, lifting the fabric just a little, "Or for me to look away while you undress," he leans down to kiss the corner of your lips, reaches down to your chin and continues along the entire line of your neck, as water you adapt to the touch of him until he reaches your breast, your nipples turgid from the temperature of the water and his attentions are raised against the transparent fabric, the man can practically see their shape and color, he cups one breast as he pushes his head against your chest, kissing the soft, tantalizing flesh.

He adores you with his mouth and your sighs make him feel like a lion in a cage, his golden hair captures the last light of dawn as he pushes you against the shore and gets between your legs, studding you with kisses and caresses, returns to your mouth and finally with his tongue captures yours, inviting you to follow him.

You encircle his neck with your arms, trembling with excitement at the way he lets you touch him and the way he touches you, takes you by the hips and holds you against his massive, secure body.

"Jimin" you whisper in his ear as you feel something heavy and stiff against your inviolate intimacy, he mumbles something unintelligible, he seems lost in his bubble continuing to lick and kiss your neck, you tremble feeling incredibly hot, an unknown force urges you to rock against him and cling to his back with your fingernails, groaning suddenly.

This seems to awaken him and the spell is broken.

He flinches away, staring at you with agitation, in his gaze remorse is the one thing you don't want to read, but it's there.

"You need to get dressed," he warns you dangerously and with difficulty before pulling away from you completely, hurting you.

"H-Have I done something I shouldn't have done?" you ask bewildered, still with chills in your body from what his hands were capable of doing to you, this version of Jimin completely opposite from the boy who was kissing you only seconds ago is like a punch to the stomach.

"I said get dressed, Y/N! " he abruptly blurts out, "And stay away from Yoongi, I don't want to see you flirting with him, you're not a village woman," he runs a hand through his damp hair nervously, before stepping out of the water without caring about his nakedness, you turn your head away from him, the feeling of shame has returned to invade your limbs, and with a stone in your heart you bring your arms to your chest, stepping out of the water and groping for the dry clothes that Taehyung and Yoongi kindly gave you.

You don't see Jimin move away from you, clenching his fists and hitting the trunk of a tree until his knuckles are mangled, finding himself staring at the blood rushing to the grass with resentment, trying hard to forget your mouth begging his to be taken or the softness of your body that has enslaved him at an embarrassing speed.

You are worse than a circle of hell for him.

When you return to camp with your face pulled into an indecipherable expression, the boys study you in confusion noting also the strange attitude of Jimin who walks a few steps ahead of you.

The two of you seem farther apart than before and this certainly does not go unnoticed by the others, Yoongi tightens his lips as he reaches for the blond man who is walking back into the forest in search of more wood.

"Hey!" he exclaims behind his friend, "What happened at the lake?" he asks, Jimin snaps an eyebrow up.

"So you knew I was there?" he curls his upper lip over his teeth appearing menacing, but Yoongi's hard gaze doesn't lower.

"She's crazy about you, so it's clear that the fight stemmed from you, am I right?"

This simply rattles the blond more, "I didn't do anything at all, don't play cupid, man, because it won't stick with me."

"Or maybe it was a one-way conversation and you didn't even give her a chance to talk, you're such an asshole! She doesn't deserve a bastard like you, a guy who doesn't grab a chance like that when he has it at his fingertips," Yoongi blurts out, starting to turn back, but those words turn on a red flag in the younger boy who grabs the older one by the leather vest.

"And what would you like to do, Yoongi? Seize the opportunity yourself? I've seen how you watch her pretend to gather herbs for your infusions," at which point Yoongi chuckles wryly, his black eyes twinkling.

"I won't lie, I like her. But I also know to whom her heart belongs, and as a doctor I can well say that if you continue to keep her on the edge like you're doing now, that heart will get sick," he sighs, flinching, "Don't make me punch you, Jimin... you're no fool."

"I'm a criminal and she's a princess," he says without emotion on his handsome face, Yoongi snorts as he rolls his eyes.

"You are her hero, the crown wants her dead and you saved her, now she's a woman like any other and nothing forbids you to be with her," clarifies the older man with a raised eyebrow, as he walks away Jimin remains frozen in place.

‘She's a woman like any other.’

No, you are not like all the others, you are his princess and will remain so forever, which is precisely why he cannot allow another man to lay his hands on you.

Abandoning himself against the bark of an old tree he wonders if being with you would be worth it as a form of protection, he would never hurt you and would ensure you protection for life, the very idea of giving you his love has always terrified him, anyone who ever loved him is dead and he wouldn't want anything horrible to happen to you because of him, but now things have changed, you need him and he... needs you.

He finds you sitting in front of the fire, you're focused on the crackling flames, and if you notice his presence, you don't show it at all, you pull the blanket tighter over your shoulders.

Your thoughtful, melancholy expression suggests to him that you are still remembering the events of a few hours ago, recognizing that he was a real jerk for the way he treated you earlier, kissing you like a lover and then rejecting you like a cheap whore. He still feels ashamed and makes sure that each of his friends is asleep in their own tent before sitting silently next to you.

He hears you wince a little and out of the corner of his eye notices you turn your head away, refusing to acknowledge his presence. He smiles slightly, even as a child when you were offended by something you would puff up your cheeks and turn your head to the side, just as you are doing now.

Yes, you are still his lovely princess.

"I'm sorry," he murmurs, moving a few millimeters closer to you, "I shouldn't have spoken to you and I especially shouldn't have touched you like that."

You frown in annoyance, snorting slightly through your nose.

"I don't object to the way you touched me, but you should keep quiet a little more," you mutter venomously, "You have the hands of an angel, but the tongue of a devil," you say casting a glance at his hands, you see the wounds and your heart sinks, you want to kiss them and curse that thought.

Those words trigger two completely different reactions in Jimin, on the one hand they help make him feel guilty, on the other he finds himself smiling internally, because you really don't know how devilish his tongue can be, if used in the right way.

"And you a mermaid's lips," he says taking your chin between two fingers, staring at you with such intensity that you feel naked.

He mirrors himself in your glossy irises and sighs, "Forgive me, after so many years of believing I'm not right for you, I forgot the most important thing."

"The most important thing?"

"Yes, you."

You gasp in surprise, registering his words only after a few moments of unbearable silence.

"You're saying that..."

"I am saying that I want to stay by your side, to be your protector and also your lover, if you will still allow me to be, Y/N."

His irises as clear as the waters of the lake gently brush against you, you feel your eyes tingling, and before he can see the tears streaming down your face you rush toward him, embracing him as if your life depended on it.

In a way it does, because without Jimin, your last piece of happiness that endures from childhood and which you have finally found again, you would have wandered in the void of loneliness for who knows how long.

You think back to your parents, to Harun, to all that you have lost and come to the conclusion that you were not yet ready to lose Jimin too, but he is here. You smile, pulling up with your nose before resting your lips on the boy's soft ones, who more than willingly accepts to surrender himself in your arms that are as small as they are warm and that scream familiarity.

"So you haven't forgotten me," you whisper, pulling away slightly, the blond shakes his head, snorting.

"Never, I tried to protect you by keeping you away from me, the king wants me dangling on a rope ... or at least it was until you made the mistake of saving me" he utters the last words with a note of reproach in his voice, staring at you sternly for the way you put yourself in danger.

But you don't lower your gaze, you won't feel guilty for saving the man you love.

"Now the two of us are here, together, do you want to blame me so much?" you murmur softly and his heart melts like snow in the sun.

He shakes his head, no, he cannot blame you. He, too, for love has made foolish and terrible decisions, and he will not let go of the chance to make up for all the pain he has caused you.

"I could never," he hisses almost painfully, closing his eyes as your fingers graze his hair and his lips reach for you, snapping another kiss.

You let him embrace you and he hold the back of your neck with one hand as he tries to deepen your contact, making it more intimate and slower than the more feverish kisses the two of you exchanged at the lake.

Your heart vibrates like the wings of a hummingbird, happy to give yourself in that way to the one man you have always loved and whom you know for certain you will love all your life. You would never have agreed to an arranged marriage; you hoped with all your heart that your uncle would never find a suitable suitor for you, and fortunately it did.

A commotion from one of the seven tents surprises you both suddenly, you separate slightly and cast a glance toward Namjoon's tent.

"He must have dropped one of his swords," Jimin mutters irritably, you, on the other hand, are traveling with your imagination, imagining sharing the tent with Jimin for the first time and blushing, since you were rescued the boys have taken turns to stand guard and let you have their little station, although strangely enough Jimin's guard duty was lasting for too many days, and as a result you have always used his bed made of furs and straw. Not quite like the one in your room at the palace, but by now you were well used to it,  considering the tower where your uncle locked you up.

"Come with me," he offers you his hand and you stare at it for a few moments, before extending yours and linking your fingers in a secure grip, "I know a place a little more... peaceful" the word slips between his teeth persuasively, you don't know what will happen tonight, but if he asked you to throw yourself off a mountain, you would do it as long as he stayed by your side at all times.

"Is it far?" you ask raising your skirt slightly, trying not to trip over tree roots and stones.

The blond looks ahead without letting go of your hand, "Just a little bit" he turns to you with his laughing eyes and you are enchanted at their color, he is lighter and more affectionate, he almost looks like that child Jimin you have missed so much.

You walk just enough to reach the thick, lumpy roots of a large tree, its branches entirely covering the night sky that until moments before was towering over you with its stars.

"Jimin... is ..." you try to say, but there is really no doubt.

The man nods.

"We are inside the lovers' forest, Y/N... this is the tree where according to legend their marriage was celebrated."

You look around, almost hoping to see the blooming arch where the first king and queen of your kingdom were married, eventually giving birth to your dynasty, but you see none of it, disappointed to realize that it is just a clearing of grass and flowers that seems to bow its head to the great tree that towers above it all.

"That's not how the stories described the place," you mumble slightly, your mother and Harun's stories spoke of magical creatures as spectators, flowers of every color and every shade decorating the lawn and the guests' walnut chairs, not to mention precisely the large archway on which roses and climbing plants had grown in honor of the two newlyweds.

You hear Jimin chuckle behind you, his hands encircle your hips and your back rests against his chest, you feel his warm breath on your neck, and goose bumps cause you to shiver.

"I never believed those stories and you know it," he says in a clear, amused tone, "But as I grew older I realized that something really happened here," he whispers in your ear.

With an elegant hand he lifts your chin slightly, bringing your gaze to the trunk of the large tree, you sharpen your vision and finally notice them.

"Runes?"

"Runes," the boy confirms, "This is the Lignum Vitae, the tree of life according to the legends, little princess," he chuckles as he turns away, his leather boots hardly audible among the uncultivated grass and damp earth.

"You don't believe that either?" you snort with a smile, you know you've always been the one to believe in everything your country's legends have handed down, but you would expect some cooperation from him, after all, he was the one who brought you here.

"I don't believe in magic, but I believe that lovers gathered here to bring offspring into the world, relying precisely on this tree," he explains with a shrug.

In fact, talking about a marriage in the stories was much easier if you wanted to tell something about the origin of the royal family to innocent children.

"They succeeded, didn't they? Look at me!" you laugh, pointing with a little bow, and Jimin does, looking at you with an affection and love that until morning he jealously kept to himself.

He walks to the tree and touches the runic symbols gently, in his mind an idea takes an increasingly clear and tantalizing shape.

"If magic really existed and we strengthened our ties to the tree, would everything fall back into place?" he wonders softly with furrowed brows, not wincing when you hug him from behind, as if expecting your closeness.

"We cannot get back what was taken from us, Jimin... even magic is useless in the face of death," your hands are intertwined over his heart, you feel it beating hard and fast, like a free and powerful horse.

"Life is what interests me," he admits, turning toward you.

He takes a few steps forward and you are forced to take as many steps backward, you don't see one of the raised roots of the tree and fall back with a little yelp, Jimin is quick to catch you before you can hit your head, and you both square off with wide-eyed stares.

"If I asked you to give me the gift of a child, here and now, what would your answer be?" he asks seriously.

You don't think about it for a single moment.

"I would answer that it is one of the desires that bind me to you, Jimin."

Another kiss comes, followed by another and another, his mouth demanding yours with such need that it seems almost savage, as if he wants to feed on you after all the years spent lusting after you in the shadows, fleeing like a wanted man of the worst kind.

He accompanies you on the damp grass and reacquaints himself with your neck, using the softness of his rosy lips to tease your tender skin, with the tips of his pearly teeth biting it lightly, and this causes an outcropping of dark, purple stains along the column of your throat, amused at imagining how others might react the next day once they set their gaze on you.

You don't even care, his attentions are a novelty, you welcome his mouth and tongue on your body as a blessing, you wouldn't turn him away from you for anything in the world, let them accuse you of being a prostitute, you and Jimin know the truth, which is that your body and soul have always belonged to the blond and no one has ever touched you as he is doing.

When he gets to the modest bodice of your dress you do something that must be strange to him, or at least you sense this from his gaze when you lift your skirt and stand helpless in his hands, like one of the wooden logs he cuts daily.

"What are you doing?" he asks with a furrowed brow.

Agitation clouds your cheeks, what's wrong?

"You said you want a baby," you say almost shyly, perhaps you misunderstood? But no, he had made it clear earlier....

"I did say that, but I don't understand why you just lifted up your skirt without responding to my caresses and now you stand still" his doubtful expression embarrasses you, that's how educators told you to do it, "Forgive me, my request was too bold."

"No!" you immediately exclaim, "I want to, only I was told to do it this way."

You see his nostrils flare to snort with irritation.

"Right...you've been locked in a castle full of soulless puppets" he shakes his head, "But that's not how I want to take you, Y/N, I prefer you receptive" he whispers persuasively, "Just like today at the lake" he continues, stroking the bare skin of your legs, pushing into your soft inner thighs, you feel your belly tighten heatedly.

"Let's leave certain unnecessary distances to those old nobles," he goes on, kissing you behind your ear, a tremor shakes you when his lips wrap around your earlobe, licking it with the tip of his tongue, "Take off your bodice, love, show me what a good girl you are, hmm?"

You nod without a drop of saliva in your mouth, Jimin's tongue hisses like a snake and you are drawn to his drawling words, you are his forbidden fruit and he can't wait to bite you and find out how sweet you can be and how deliciously you can bleed.

Each button that leaves a buttonhole is a soft kiss from him over the light blouse that still holds your breasts, mentally moaning the blond curses himself for not enjoying your eager body sooner and perfect for his fingers.

He would like to tear off your clothes instantly, but he restrains himself, how would you return to others without instigating some desire in them?. No, he is gentle when even the last garment leaves you and he can finally quiver at the sight of your naked body shivering under the icy night air, or perhaps it is his eyes that make you tremble?

He lifts himself off your body and tosses his tunic to the side, your eyes drink in the sight of his hard chest and the slight hair that descends to his private parts, which you did not see that morning, but you distinctly felt on your warm intimacy, and the air escapes your lungs when you notice something that in the sunlight has strangely escaped you, perhaps because you have tried not to stare at him too much, his chest is studded with small, shiny white lines, they are thin and almost intangible, but they are there.

You brush those lines with a tentative finger, feeling the reliefs with a question mark in mind, and in doing so his skin twitches, "What are these?" you ask gently, Jimin gives a small smile and kisses the knuckles of your hand.

"Every day spent without you," he pronounces solemnly, the wind rattles the leaves of the large tree and for a few moments it is as if you feel it voice whispering over the blond man's words. You chase away the feeling and embrace the boy once more with a tear running down your cheek. You were a fool to believe that he had abandoned you when all he had done was think about you.

You have a feeling that the air is warmer now that his head is buried in the hollow of your breasts, his moist tongue playing with the tip of a nipple initially causing a strange tickle in the center of your chest before a glowing sensation slips between your legs, making you blaze with desire, it's all more direct without your petticoat and you love every second of it.

You bite your lower lip, holding back a moan louder than your sighs, you don't want it to go away again, but it's stronger than you when the delicious sting of a bite makes your thighs tremble around his bare hips, you feel the length of his cock twitch against your skin, it's heavy and it arouses you to know that you have that effect on him, at that thought the wetness descends between your thighs against your will and you try to hide, but Jimin can read a woman's body and you are still too inexperienced to go unnoticed by a hunter like him.

"It's normal" he breathes on your lips imparting another deep kiss, "It means you like it" the tip of his nose rubs against yours trying to soothe you, your eyes fly to his cock when he lifts a little to settle himself better and all the blood rushes to your head, you don't know whether from the shame of seeing a naked man or from the incredible wave of pleasure that washes over you at noticing how thick and needy he looks, there is white liquid at the tip, dripping thickly down his veiny length that seems to contract under your curious and hungry eyes.

Then a thought alarms you, "Does it all have to go in there?" you point to your intimacy, though you don't know for sure, your educators had been vague and you never touched yourself, sometimes you felt the need as you imagined what an adult Jimin might look like, but you never dared to break the imposed rules.

A princess does not do such things as a street woman.

Yet, that's exactly where Jimin caresses you, his fingers dance over your moist folds with mastery and you block the instinct to close your legs, as you might when with his thumb he rolls over a spot that gives you particularly intense and wonderful sensations, "Jimin!" you grab his wrist trying to slow down his devilish circles, but your pelvis continues to chase pleasure against your will, you throw your head back and Jimin kisses the line of your jaw as if it is impossible for him to stop kissing you in any way.

"This is called the clit, love," you hear him smile, "And this is where I'm going to go all in...my cock will go into your sweet little pussy, Y/N," he hums moving his fingers to your needy slit, entering lightly with his light fingertips, you gasp at his sudden dirty language but find that you like it, it makes you feel desired.

You feel his fingers move inside you as his thumb continues to caress your clit, your lower abdomen trembles and stutters in despair with each jolt of pleasure, your teary eyes are lost in the immensity of the tree that seems to silently observe what is happening.

Jimin never goes beyond the elastic barrier he senses beyond your entrance, he merely teases you within inches of your entrance and it is amazing how liquid and copious your pleasure flows past his wrist until it drips onto the grass. His instincts are stronger than he is, he must have a taste of your sweetness and you abruptly hold your breath when his tongue catches another wave of your honeyed essence, you are devastating to his taste buds and he wants more, you find yourself crying and contracting your hips as you try to escape his mouth, he devours you by insisting on your scarlet pearl and when more drops of pleasure come he runs to lick them away from your slit, he seems to be going crazy or maybe he is.

"Stop, Jimin... Stop-oh!" you stiffen instantly when a firmer lick shakes your body and makes you explode in such pleasure that you squint and cry.

"Ssssh, princess" you feel Jimin's lips gathering your tears before placing a kiss at the corner of your stammering mouth; his lips are wet and glossy; he is the embodiment of sin.

He is still breathing down your neck as the thickness of his cock begins to furrow your folds to gather as much moisture as possible, the thick, shiny tip of his cock swirls around your slit and you reflexively contract your pussy muscles, it is almost funny how despite the pleasure that has shocked you, your pussy still tries to invite him inside her.

"It's going to hurt, my love" he warns you with a sharp breath, you nod immediately, this part has been repeated to you many times by those women whose job it was to instruct you in your duties as a wife, though none of them had ever told you that you could experience such pleasure that you would be left gasping for breath.

"I know," you smile, but Jimin seems a little anxious.

"It will be short-lived, I'll be gentle and-" you caress his face affectionately, you know that too, he would never intentionally hurt you.

"And I will have your baby," your heart warms every time you think about it, a baby with the same cheeks and eyes as Jimin? You would love him infinitely, Jimin melts into a real smile.

"Ours."

He intertwines a hand with yours as he prepares to enter and the next thrust makes your eyes widen, he is incredibly slow and gentle, but you have never had anything inside you before and you feel all too clearly his length piercing and widening your inner walls at his will, Jimin is breathing shallowly with sweat beading on his forehead in an attempt to keep calm, you hold him deliciously and you are extraordinarily beautiful as you stare at him with your eyes lost and your lips half-closed and swollen from his kisses.

"I-It doesn't hurt, don't worry, my love," you manage to murmur with a smile, that's right, it doesn't hurt.

It's just a strange sensation, the stretch stings and tingles, but it's nothing unbearable or terrible as you've been led to believe all your life.

Or maybe Jimin is a very good lover, whispers a little voice in your head.

Even so, you feel something warm dripping from your slit after a more direct lunge, running down one of your thighs and ending up on the damp grass; it is your blood, but you pay no attention to it, just as you pay no attention to the quick absorption of the earth near the tree roots.

The blond man nods, but he reaches down again to take a nipple in your mouth, massaging your breast as if he expects milk to come out of it already, your clitoris twitching pleasantly and his cock sliding more sinuously, now you can feel it tapping deeper and deeper, you can almost feel it in your belly and you accompany his thrusts by moving against him, you cling to his back with your fingernails, you hear him moan loudly and that sound excites you, you wonder if...

Before you even think, your hand slides over his chest and you rotate your thumb around one of his smaller, darker nipples, he stiffens with a hoarse sound in his throat and the intensity of his thrusts increases, he clings desperately to you as you tease him again, encircling his hips with your legs.

In the clearing the obscene sounds of your relationship are lost in the wind, the leaves of the tree moving gently almost as if blessing your union.

You kiss him once more and let his tongue take over your mouth, abandoning his deep sighs in you, your walls begin to vibrate ecstatically each time his cock repeatedly plows through them, your belly heats up and you squeeze his swollen length into your pussy, preventing him from leaving at all, Jimin increases his jet speed, now sure of the pleasure that envelops you like a bubble and crushes you against his body, he rides the waves of lust like a stallion, your lungs run out of breath and the world swirls around you.

"We're going to have a baby," he growls decisively, his once ice-blue eyes now a deep electric blue, "And I'm going to bring your uncle's head to you, love," he announces, repeatedly pounding into you at a more assertive and rough pace, his pleasure is snaking incandescently, he can't wait to cum inside you and fill you to the last drop, you will surely accept him as a good wife should.

You tremble with panting and his fierce lunges, praying that he will never leave you, your core is on fire, your walls wrap around him with desperation, and your clit is ready again to let you go in a spiral of enjoyment. You want it all, you yearn for it, you need it, you would kill for it all.

Making love with Jimin.

Yes.

Carrying his child.

Yes.

Having your uncle's head on a silver platter.

Yes.

You hold him in your arms as the first hot jet is shot inside you, he is still buried between your legs as he continues to come, you whimper and at yet another strand of his seed you stiffen, you open your mouth wide in a mute sound as you come with no more strength.

Your body is shaken, unable to recover and you don't understand why, you try to escape when Jimin comes out of your sweet depths, but he blocks you with his weight.

You stare at him shocked when he returns with his hand to your pussy, repeatedly rubbing your perky, still rigid pearl, you shake your head.

"No, it's too much!" you cry clutching your legs, but he continues fearlessly, "I can't do it," you gasp pleadingly.

"It's what you need, honey" he murmurs in your ear, "You're so sensitive you don't realize you need another orgasm to soothe your body, I should have fed you earlier like this, sweet little thing" he sighs with his wrist locked between your thighs, bliss finally comes in little spurts of pleasure that make you gasp and Jimin's thumb stops torturing you, you sag against him without strength, feeling nothing but the vibrations of your intimacy still reliving the intensity and strength of his presence.

"Thank you," you say turning a little toward him, who stares at you with all the love he has for you, "For everything."

But the blond man shakes his head, "You did it all, my princess, I just waited for you" you hear regret in his tone of voice and you're sorry, you don't want him to think back to all the time that kept you apart, now you're together and that's all that matters.

"We will be fine now," you nod.

"When I regain the kingdom" a kiss, "Our baby will be born" another kiss, "And I'll have the king's head to make you a gift" he snaps an even more intense kiss, "We'll be even better, to love you this and more, Y/N" he stares at you with devotion and you lose a beat.

"And I want it, I want it all, Jimin" you let yourself be cradled in your love's embrace and you notice a flash of lightning in passing, you widen your eyes and turn toward the big tree.

It was only an instant, but you swear you saw the runic symbols glow gold.

You kiss Jimin's neck with a smile, foretasting a flood of sweet happenings for both of you, you feel your lap throb gently and you know, a new dynasty is about to be brought into the world.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

© 𝐀𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐚𝐌𝐚𝐥𝐟𝐨𝐲𝐙𝐚𝐛𝐢𝐧𝐢 -  𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝. || 𝐔𝐧𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐳𝐞𝐝 𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝/𝐨𝐫 𝐝𝐮𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐡𝐢𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐝.

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

A Song of heart and blood - part one | Daemon Targaryen x Targaryen!Reader

Summary: After an horrible prophetical dream, you find yourself traveling through time to try and save your sister, Daenerys, from her fatal ascension to the Iron Throne. During your mission, your heart derives you from your duty and you fall in love with your ancestor

Word count: 2.3k

masterpost

A/N: The time-traveling part was heavily inspired by Outlander

-

While most of Valerian descent are born dragonriders, very few have been dreamers.

The first known dreamer had been Daenys Targaryen, known as 'the Dreamer'. She had foreseen the Doom of Valyria in a dream twelve years before it happened, causing her father to relocate the family and its dragons to Dragonstone, thus securing House Targaryen's future as the last known dragonlord family in the world and the rulers of the Seven Kingdoms.

Then, Aegon I Targaryen, Viserys I Targaryen, Helaena Targaryen, Daemon II Blackfyre...and you.

The castle in King's Landing was completely destroyed, except for the Iron Throne. Your sister, Daenerys, was walking toward it, the new queen of the Seven Kingdoms. She touched the throne, a faint smile curling on her lips. Behind her, a man with dark hair had entered the room. They began talking – arguing – about some matter you couldn't hear. A kiss was shared and, as the two kissed, the man stabbed her in her heart with his dagger.

Had you told Dany about your dream, she would've laughed and said it was just that: a dream. Deep down, you could feel that it was something more. A dragon dream, as they call it in the books. A prophecy.

You had to do something to prevent your sister's tragic end. Talking her down to go after the Iron Throne was a losing battle. Dany was strong-headed; she would never accept to give up what was rightfully hers, even if you told her about your dream.

She didn't believe in that sort of thing, anyway.

The days following your dream, you found yourself in your head a lot. You couldn't look at your sister without seeing the blood leaking from her mouth and nose after that man had assassinated her. It had become difficult to close an eye at night, knowing what would happen to her in the end.

You had to do something.

A few days later, you packed your bag and went on your own to know more about prophecies. Leaving her with the Dothrakis worried you, but Ser Jorah had sworn protection to her. He'll keep her safe while you'll be gone.

*

After seven moons doing some heavy research away in the Free Cities, you found a woman of old age who knew about Dreamers and prophecies. She told you the only way to keep a foretelling event from happening was to fix the mistakes that led to it – albeit it being close to impossible. Prophecies always find a way to come to pass.

''Time traveling?'' you repeated with a doubtful furrow of your eyebrows.

The woman nodded. ''There is this old tale about a High Priestess who practiced different sorts of sorcery using the power of R'hllor. According to the tale, she has revived a man who had been stabbed enough times to empty himself of his blood, and knew details only someone who had lived in the past could know of. She is rumored to have lived hundreds of years, all thanks to her magic.''

''How may I find her?''

''Unfortunately, the High Priestess has been burned to the stake many decades ago, but her grimoire has not been found. She lived in a crept in Volantis, where I assume her grimoire still is. You might find what you need in it.''

''Would it save my sister? Going back in time.''

''Possibly.'' The woman

''You got to find the exact moment, the trigger time-stamp that started the downfall of the Targaryen dynasty.''

Was she talking about your father's descent into insanity? Had he not been held prisoner for half a year by a rebellious lord, perhaps he would not have let his paranoia cloud his judgment or let his cruelty grow. Perhaps Ser Jamie Lannister, a member of his own Kingsguard, would not have killed him.

Unless the prophecy went back longer ago? When did House Targaryen begin losing its power?

According to Maester Yandel, the biggest losses of House Targaryen happened during the Dance of Dragons, a major civil war in the history of the Seven Kingdoms. It destroyed many cadet and lesser branches of the Targaryen family - thinning the Targaryen bloodline –, and also eliminated almost all of the surviving dragons at the time – seventeen dragons died during the Dance.

Had the Dance not happened, had Aegon II not been born, it would've made a massive difference in the future of House

''Before you go searching for the grimoire, I shall warn you my lady: any minor change can have a ripple effect that could harm innocent bystanders.''

*

The crypt had taken you weeks to locate.

Each page of the grimoire was made of human skin and written with blood. It was quite gnarly to touch - or smell. The spelling was difficult to decipher. No offense to the High Priestess, but her handwriting was not the greatest. Some of the pages were in High Valyrian – which must've been the High Priestess's first language. Fortunately, you had been taught the language growing up.

Inside, you came across resurrecting spells and fertilization rituals, a handful of curses and poisonous brews, and a time-traveling ritual. They were all using blood magic, which was one of the most dangerous magic, but after seeing your sister ascending her rightful title as queen, to then be killed by her lover – which was somehow not Khal Drogo –, you were willing to risk the danger and consequences of blood magic.

The ritual sounded complex, but was relatively simple. You'll need a gemstone, fire and blood – and a solstice in a specific location. Fortunately for you, the summer solstice was only a moon away. You also needed an object that belonged to the time you wanted to go back to. The dragonglass dagger in your bag will be perfect. It had been given to the princess Rhaenyra by Viserys himself while he was king.

On the week of the Solstice, you began your journey to the ancient stone circle located on a mountain in Volantis. According to the grimoire, one of the stones was large and cleft, through which a time traveler may pass.

Come the Solstice, you waited until the moon was at its highest and started a small fire in the middle of the stone circle while reading a few High Valerian lines. You then added a few drops of your blood to the fire and threw the dragonglass dagger – the fire crackled and the flame grew in height, almost touching your forehead.

You immediately stepped back, startled. This was your first time dabbling in magic. You didn't know fire could be so powerful.

Lastly, you walked up to the large cleft stone, pressed your palm against the cleft.

*

Approximately 170 years before your birth

Since your arrival in King’s Landing, you have tried to be discreet and keep to yourself as much as possible.

As the woman of old age warned you, time-traveling was delicate. Each change – even the smallest – will have a direct effect on the future. A sliver of change done wrong, and the whole future could take a turn for the worse, the Targaryen lineage could be extinct sooner. You and your sister could…not exist.

All you needed to do was prevent Aegon II from being born. That alone should have a huge impact on the Targaryen dynasty – on the future.

You had no idea how you would execute your plan. From what you knew, the queen was expecting and the babe would be born in a couple of weeks from now. That didn't leave you a lot of time. The main issue was, Queen Alicent lived in the Red Keep and there was no way you could sneak in unnoticed. There were guards all around the castle. One was probably posted at the door of her chamber for extra safety.

Every time you took a stroll in the city, you were pestered by sellers. Seafood when in Fishmonger's Square, brewers in Dragon Square, baked goods on the Street of Flour. Everything looked delicious, but the coins in your pocket couldn't be spent on treats.

A brewer was being insistent tonight, trying to get you to try his liquor. You shook your head, politely declining. The bearded man was not taking no for an answer, claiming you must have coins on you because of the jewel around your neck.

The small quarrel grew in volume, catching some citizens' attention, notably a man in a hooded cloak. You wanted to run, but when you took a quick look around to evaluate your options, you caught the man with the hooded cloak's eyes. His eyes were purple and, under his large hood, you saw a glimpse of his silver hair. He was a Targaryen.

When you teleported through the stones, you vowed to yourself to minimize your social interactions and to not directly interact with any of your ancestors to not disrupt the future in times where it wasn't necessary.

You recognized him as Daemon, also known as the Rogue Prince. His dark gray hooded cloak was doing a mediocre job at shielding his identity – at least from the front. Or, perhaps you were just too good at recognizing those who shared your blood.

‘’The woman seems not to be interested.’’

Daemon’s voice cut the brewer's word spitting, making the bearded man raise his head in his direction. Although there was no threat in the prince's words, his tone itself held an authority. It felt commanding.

Had he been a regular man of the city, you would've thanked him. Instead, you ran off.

You didn’t want to be impolite, or come off as not thankful – you were thankful for him stepping in. Without him, the brewer would probably still be pressuring you to buy his liquor. You needed to remain unnoticed during your travels. Thanking Daemon would’ve broken your rule.

You took a left on the Street of Silk and felt eyes on your back. Had the bearded man followed you? No. It was unlikely. After Daemon’s interruption, he had to have given up. Someone was following you, though.

You snaked through the bodies and ran as fast as your legs allowed you.

A few buildings down, the street was splitting. You took another left and hid inside the closest building, which turned out to be a pleasure house – a brothel – , of all places. Just like the streets, it was packed.

You had never been to one of these places before. There wasn’t any around where you grew up. It was…was…uncomfortable. There were naked people – men and women – all around; some were dancing sexually, some were moaning and performing sexual acts of all genres.

‘’Silver hair are difficult to hide, are they?’’

You whirled around and came face to face with the Rogue Prince himself. His hood was still on, but his eyes bore right into yours. Just like yours, they were a shade of purple. His were a lighter color, but no less piercing.

He reached out to twirl a piece of your hair between his fingers, a frown settling between his eyebrows. Your alluring beauty, long and braided silver hair and the Valyrian steel necklace around your neck – a piece of jewelry that once belonged to your mother – were a straight-teller of your Targaryen roots.

‘’Where did you get this?’’ His eyes fixated the jewelry, as if he had seen it before.

‘’My mother.’’

''Valyrian steel, right?’’ You nodded. ‘’I brought the same one to my niece two years ago. I was told there was only one.’’

‘’Perhaps the person you bought it from was mistaken – or they lied to you.’’

Daemon looked at you with wary eyes. ‘’Who are you?’’

The dreaded question. You gulped, nervousness bubbling in your stomach as you tried to think of a quick fake-name. Using Targaryen in this era would stir too many questions.

‘’Y/N. Y/N…Stormborn, my Prince.’’

The last words felt strange on your tongue. It was the proper way to address him, though.

‘’Stormborn?’’ Daemon’s frown deepened, the name unfamiliar. In fact, it was the first time he heard it. ‘’I’ve never heard. Although, you must be of Valyrian blood. Only those with Valyrian blood have silver hair.’’

You shrugged, playing your part. ‘’I would not know. My father lost his life in battle and my mother died during childbirth. I was raised by my brother in Essos.’’

That part wasn’t all false. You only omitted small details…like your father being the Mad King and escaping to Essos after your birth so you, Daenerys and Viserys – your brother –’s lives would be spared.

The man before you hummed. He didn’t know if you were bullshitting him or telling the truth, but he’ll take your words for now.

‘’Have you ever been in Essos, my Prince?‘’ you asked.

The prince didn't get to answer you. Behind you, one of the curtains lining the hallway opened and a drunk man got thrown out of the private room, his erected cock out in the open. A naked woman – assumingly a working whore from the brothel – followed and threw his pants and tunic at him.

‘’No money, no fucking,’’ she spat at him, then walked off.

He bent down to pick up his clothes and tipped forward, visibly too drunk to have any sense of balance, and limply falling against you. His heavy, dead weight caused you to fall forward, your hand reaching for something to grab onto but only finding air.

In good reflex, Daemon firmly gripped your arm, catching you before your face would meet the filthy floor and pulled you against him in a knightly gesture. You ended up with your face in the prince’s chest, the mix of sandalwood, pine and a tinge of red wine seeping through your nose and invading your senses. Gods, he smelled nice.

Had he not been your great-great-great-great-great-great-great grandfather, perhaps you would have taken advantage of the close proximity and stayed there a little longer.

A light flush creeped to your cheeks and you pulled away. ‘’My apologies.‘’

-

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