Referring to B Ex!wife as a queen makes me think of a kingdom au ngl
Where the royal family falls into shambles after the queen practically disappears after the divorce
The kingdom is in SHAMBLES, the palace is tense and everyone is scared.
The queen is the kingâs most valuable of assets, one that can calm the minds of the people, like a mother who soothes her child after a nightmare, without that the kingdom and its people are afraid in the dark.
He tried to take over her workload, but that lead to nights where he was unable to sneak out and protect the people, and when he ignored the paperwork and relied on others, everything backfired spectacularly.
Heâs exhausted, he hasnât had an adult conversation with anyone besides his adult children and Alfred in months, his subjects keep whispering rumors about his queen.
Outlandish rumors at that, some about how she was taken by a man who could part the sea with a wave of his hand. Another said that she was returning to her home in the slums of Gotham when a shadow pulled her into the darkness of an alley, never seen again. Then there was the rumor that a sun god descended from heaven offering her his hand in marriage,
Then there were the ones where she fled to another kingdom where sheâs being kept in a gilded cage by a mad ruler who desires to make her their queen and mother of their children.
And lastly, there was a rumor of a knight with a red banner that is rumored to be looking for her. He shutters remembering the knightâs description.. how his armor was once pure silver, now stained red from the blood of those heâs slain.
So many rumors, so many leads and yet he cannot find you.
He canât find shit and itâs driving him mad, he wants you back so badly. Not just because you eased his burdens, but because he misses you so much.
He misses hearing your voice every day, how your keen eyes would squint when you read something you did not like, how youâd smile and laugh when Tim and Damian arguedâŠ
He missed your warmth, how you shone like the sun in his bleak life and kingdom. Bruce sits on his dark office, his mind feeling like it was eroding from your absence, how could he turn his back on you? Your light chasing away the darkness that kept trying to consume him, now returning to nibble at the edges of his common sense.
Bruce sighed, glancing out the window as the sun began to set, casting the sky in a brilliant shade of red.
âMy queen.. my lovely sly fox⊠where are you hiding?â
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A yandere regretful king! X Mad demoted queen! Reader:
After the yandere king destroyed your life in every possible, you started to lose your sanity due to your traumas (caused by the king due to his "punishments" towards you), until you finally lost your mind.
The yandere king tried to brush it off at first, but quickly realized that everything he did to you was what caused you to lose your mind beyond recovery.
At first, it was incoherent words and sounds, then came screams from nightmares, traumatic memories, and even hallucinations related to everything he had done to you. Then you became dangerous both to yourself and to others, including the king. He regretted everything and tried to reclaim what you once were, but stopped after your reactions.
#1: Every time you saw him, you would get so scared that you would jump back (whether you were lying down or sitting) and run away screaming, sometimes even throwing things at him and knocking over everything around you.
#2: : You acted violently, either towards yourself or towards any environment that was related to him.
So, the yandere king, seeing the severe mental damage he's caused you, decides to depose you from your position as queen and lock you away in one of the secluded towers, gathering or recruiting every doctor to try to cure and recover youâŠto no avail. The yandere can only watch as you curse him and grow terrified of him while thrashing violently in the restraints that keep you stuck to the bed. HE KNOWS deep down that he himself led you to this destruction with no return.
As the next in line for the throne its most important you raise yourself with dignity, elegance and wit. You could not afford to fail or show any weakness. If you did, it could mean your downfall.
So you grew up with this heavy burden; classes in dozens of subject going from dawn to dusk, fearing you might get assassinated, polishing your appearance to absolute perfection.
When it was finally your turn to take over the crown, you were nervous. Despite having trained hard for this moment ever since you were born, you still feared for the future. Would you really be able to lead with the same strength as those before you? Or would you do a terrible job and doom the kingdom? Those were both equally possible options.
Luckily, you did have trustworthy friends by your side whoâd lay down their lives in order to protect you.
Lucius Stormheart was your childhood friend. Heâd been with you for as long as you could remember. He was the son of the captain of the royal guard, whom have been a friend of your father for a very long time. Perhaps that is one of the reasons the two of you were introduced. You were around seven and nine at the time. You still remember how he refused to meet your gaze and bowed deeply whilst telling you what an honour it was to meet you.
He was a bit stiff for his age, you believed it was because of the legacy and role heâd have to eventually take over; although you were hardly one to talk. If you had any other friends theyâd probably also think youâre strange and not at all fun.
Lucius and you never really played traditional childrenâs games. It was already decided he would become a knight, so he became your guard. Of course, there was no real danger since you stayed within the palace but he took his duty seriously; constantly following you in silence and staying vigilant of anything that moved. Usually, you would have tea in the garden and he would just stand watch. You beckoned him to sit down and enjoy himself, offering him sweets and other delicacies, but he only shook his head. It went on like that for years. You grew tired of him hardly uttering a single word to you. He was supposed to be your friend but wouldnât even engage in simple conversation. He truly was too stiff for his young age.
You recalled one day, you were almost an adult then, when you wanted to tease him a bit. You pretended to have lost your gold bracelet somewhere in the grass and cried for him to find it. The moment he bent down in the grass to scour for he (not) lost jewelry, you took off as quick as your legs were able. Lucius immediately reacted and shouted for you to come back, but you had gotten a head start.
You laughed as you felt the freedom youâd never had. It wasnât long until you ditched your fine shoes and ran barefoot. The wind in your hair and ground under your feet felt great. Luciusâ voice wasnât far behind you. Tiredness overcame you and you threw yourself down among the green and the flowers. You closed your eyes.
Not soon after you heard heavy footsteps and deep breaths. You looked up to see your childhood friend-made-guard loom over you with a furious expression. How could you just run off like that? Do you understand how dangerous it is for someone in your position? You could be attacked!
You ignored his scolding and rolled around, inspecting the flowers instead.
âAre you even listening to a word I say? Of course not.â He huffed. âYou canât run away from me. Ever. If you do, I might not be able to protect you. Imagine that someone had managed to sneak into the palace ground and was waiting for an opportunity to assassinate you, this would be the perfect moment to do so. Honestly, have you no sense of danger? Iâd think someone with your background would posses more caution-â
You drowned out his speech. You were staring blankly at him, an idea came to you, you wanted to tease him further. Besides, this was something youâve wanted yourself for some time. You rolled your eyes with a smile and sat up.
â- and then it would not only affect you but also-â
âLucius.â You said gently.
He quieted down. It was evident he was not yet done and seethed in silence, after all, you were a princess whilst he was nothing but a commoner. A commoner inheriting an important role and being more privileged than other commoners was still a commoner nonetheless.
âCan you come closer?â
The young guard frowned but did as told. He knelt beside you and awaited your next words. What he did not expect was for you to caress his cheeks and quickly pull him in for a kiss. Luciusâ mind went completely blank. At first, there was nothing, no air, no light, no sound. Then after a couple second came everything, the warmth of the sunny afternoon, the sound of birds twittering on branches and the feeling of your lips against his. They moved with a gentle passion, your tongue licking his lips, asking permission to enter. He complied. It was sweet and warm, completely different from the early mornings and harsh trainings he goes through everyday.
It wasnât until after you pulled away and smiled at him that Lucius remembered how to breathe. He stood up like someone had burned him- which someone had to a certain degree- and backed away.
Stuttering, he gasped, âP-Princess? What..w-why would you?-â
You laughed at his embarrassment, feeling a bit sorry for him. He was completely red in the face, matching the uniform he wore.
âMy apologies, I couldnât help it. I wanted to tease you one last time.â
Oh. So that was it? Yes, of course you only wanted to have some fun. Itâs not like you get to do anything else out of pleasure in your life. You used him for amusement.
ââŠ..Yes, Princess. Itâs alright, but you should not do something like this again. You need to refrain from having relations with men that are not your husband- especially not commoners.â
That was the end of it, you thought. You apologised a couple more times before forgetting about the experience. Lucius said it was fine so there was nothing more to it, right? Unfortunately you had no idea of the massive crisis youâd started within Lucius.
You kissed him. Him of all people. Lucius would not believe it if he hadnât experienced it firsthand. He wondered if all those years of him loving you in secret had been in vain. Did you know? No, obviously you didnât. Itâs just like you said, it was for amusement. You wanted to tease him like when you suddenly took off. It was only fun.
Nothing more like that happened afterwards. The kiss was long since buried along with other memories. That was the case for you. But not for Lucius. He didnât forget.
About a year before you were crowned queen, Lucius took over his fathers position and became the new captain of the royal guard. You both had become so busy-him with his new job and you with preparing for your coronation- that you hardly saw each other. If you were lucky, you saw him training outside with the new recruits or wandering the hallways. You sent a mere nod of acknowledgement to the other person, no words were exchanged. If you had the time you wouldâve mourned the death of the little friendship you had.
You believed you would be no more than strangers with no past and no future. However, you were surprised when your father had called you into his office and there, in all his glory, stood your childhood friend Lucius. His hair reached just above his ears and he wore the same stern expression he always had. The red in his armour seemed glowing, it reminded you of blood.
Your father then revealed the news of Lucius officially becoming your personal knight. When the two of you were young he constantly guarded you but it was more of an assumed responsibility. He was not actually in charge of your protection.
Lucius had done well in his new position and your father wanted to grant him a wish in return. The young man had proceeded to tell him there was nothing more he wanted than to serve his kingdom by protecting its future monarch. This wish was so noble it was granted without further questions, so long he could manage his other duties as well. It made sense, as the captain of the royal guard, whom else was more qualified to protect you?
You first met Sebastian Spade when you were visiting another kingdom as a preteen. The adults had their meetings and swatted you away. They ushered you to go explore the castle whilst they took care of the things that mattered. You decided to go outside since you werenât too sure about snooping around in all the rooms, there was always a chance youâd find something you shouldnât and your parents had previously urged you not to run into trouble.
The outside was also beautiful with colourful flowers and carefully trimmed bushes. You wandered, taking in the wonderful scenery. Along the way, the flowers disappeared and you found yourself at the training grounds. At the centre stood a boy your age holding a sword. He lunged at the training dummy positioned in front of him. Unfortunately, he lost his footing and flew forward. The sword landed on the ground with a loud clatter and the boy let out an âomfph!â.
You rushed to side and asked him if he was alright, which he was; just embarrassed. He told you his name was Sebastian and that he was aiming to be a knight. He managed to become an apprentice of a knight at the castle. It was one of his training sessions that you stumbled upon. Being a knight had always been his dream. Apparently his father and grandfather had been one, so it was in the blood. Or, it would have been if Sebastian hadnât been so bad at everything. Truth was he wasnât actually allowed to use a real sword, only wooden once. But he took one anyway. He thought that maybe he could improve faster if he got used to wielding one out of metal. Well, you got a first row view of how that went.
He felt so worthless. Why couldnât he ever do something right? Why was he such a failure? No matter how hard he trained, he was barely able to hold the sword straight. Maybe he should give up being a knight altogether, it was hopeless after all. No one said anything, but he noticed the way everyone looked at him. They all thought the same thing, âwhy is he even here?â. How could he blame them? Even his own mentor didnât believe in him.
You frowned, feeling terrible in how this boy had lost faith in all his dreams. Now you knew nothing of knighthood but you had a friend who did. You wished he couldâve come with but he needed to keep up with his training and besides, you were in yer another royal castle so the chances of anything happening to you was very low. So you decided to give Sebastian some tips; simple things youâve picked up when watching your friend home his skills. Sebastian listened eagerly, desperate to improve. If there was any way he could become better than he wanted to hear it. That boy hung off every word that came out of your mouth. You did however assert that you were not an expert by any means and these where just things others have told you or what youâve learned from observation. That didnât matter though. Thanks to you he understood how to correct his stance and made it possible to hold up the sword- the issue he was struggling with earlier was solved!
During the entirety of the week you and your family were staying, you hung out with Sebastian every day. Every moment you didnât have to be present out of curtsy you spent with him instead, which was much more pleasurable.
Sebastian was more than happy to have your company. Truth be told, he didnât have any friends, good acquaintances maybe, but no one heâd be able to call a friend. He was also quite shy. It was to nice to finally have someone who believed in him, who encouraged and was patient with him.
At the end of the week, he had improved so much. It was hard to think heâs the same boy who could hardly even lift a sword. Sebastian was no master, far from it, but it was undeniable that he had become a lot better. Now he only had to hone his skills and he could fulfill his dreams when he became an adult.
The attitude against him changed as well. Before, the other students refused to interact with him unless they were forced to and they along with the knights made fun of him when they thought he couldnât hear. Now, however, they approached him and wondered how heâd managed to improve so quickly and if he could lend some tips. Obviously he didnât. They donât deserve his kindness. Not after how they treated him. Sure, they never outright bullied him by shoving him around or anything but they mightâve as well.
Sebastian ran through the garden. He shouldnât have since thereâs definitely be a scolding coming his way if an adult saw, but he didnât care. He needed to find you. He had to tell you about the praise he received form his teaching-knight after the dayâs training. Before you met he never would have reached a compliment, it was a sign of the good fortune you brought.
His cheeks glowed red at the thought. You were so kind to him. He thought all royals were snobbish assholes who only cares about themself and their looks, now he knew he was wrong. You werenât like that at all. You smiled, played with him and didnât care if your dress got dirty. Of course, you preferred if it didnât but you wouldnât mind a scolding from your parents for once.
You were beautiful too. Almost too beautiful in his opinion. You were sure to attract a lot of suitors when you grew up. Sebastianâs heart stung. It was a strongly unpleasant feeling; imagining you beside someone else. Sebastian was young but not stupid, he understood what he was feeling. He shouldnât be jealous, he knew that at the end of the day you were a princess and he was not even close to being a prince, and only a prince could marry you. Realistically he didnât stand a chance. Unfortunately, his heart didnât listen to his brain and he couldnât stop the blossoming affection he felt for you.
â(Y/n)â he yelled when he saw you coming his way. You wore a nice dress that complimented your appearance. His heart thumped uncomfortably within his chest.
âSebastian, I was just coming to see you.â
The boy scratched his neck. âWell, here I am!â
You laughed at his positive nature. Then your smile fell once you remembered the intent of your visit. âI actually came to see you..for a last time.â
âWhat?â Sebastian froze. Did he mishear you? No, your words were loud and clear so that meant⊠âYouâre leaving?â
You sighed and nodded, âyes, my family has done the business they came for and we are to return home.â
âWhen?â
âThis evening.â
You hated seeing him hurt. You wished you didnât have to leave but you had no choice. This was always going to happen, this was not your home. You just werenât prepared to make a great friend whom you could miss dearly back home.
âOh. Okay...â Sebastian said in a low voice. His chipper mood was entirely destroyed in a minute.
That evening your belongings were loaded into a grand carriage. You took a seat on the soft cushions inside and scanned the outside form the window. Your parents were in a different carriage so you didnât have to explain to them why you were staring outside so intensely.
You felt the carriage begin to move. You were really going home. Well, itâs not like you werenât going to go home in the first place. This was always the plan. No matter how thoroughly you searched there was no sign of your friend. You sighed with a heavy heart. Not being able to see him hurt you too but you at least wanted to say goodbye.
And so you were moving in the direction known as home. Whilst you were thinking about the young knight-in-training, you saw a shadow at the edge of the forest. You leaned towards the window to get a better look and there he was, your friend! So he did want to say goodbye after all, although not in the most conventional way.
Sebastianâs breath was heavy and tired. Heâd ran along the toad through the forest. He could feel the smal scrapes heâd gotten from branches(and the one time he fell over a root). It stung a little, however it was no comparison to how he felt inside. He gained and lost his best-and first- friend in the span of a week. And to be honest, you were a bit more than that to him.
He stared longingly at the carriage you were sitting in. He found himself hoping it would break down and youâd have to turn back around, which did not happen since the royal familyâs belongings were only of the finest materials and craftsmen ship. Sebastian could only watch as you went further and further away, until you were nothing more than a dor in the horizon. Finally, he waved weakly. Though he was too late for you to be able to see it.
That evening he made a promise. Sebastian vowed to become stronger- better than any knight in the kingdom. Then and only then would he be honourable enough to flee to your kingdom and serve you there. It might take a very long time. But it was completely worth it if it was you.
Genre: immortal knight! jungkook x vampire queen! reader, vampire au, fantasy, dark romance, SMUT, angst.
Summary: You are untouchable. Feared and worshipped by all. And he's the knight who has sworn himself to you. When you finally call him to your chambers, he offers everything, his blood, devotion, and his very being. After all, you are no ordinary woman. You are a creature of the night, and Jungkook has longed to be yours.
Word count:Â 5.6k+
Warnings: unprotected sex, bloodplay, biting, devotion/worship, oral (m receiving), dom/sub, jungkook is a sub, edging, slight pain play, marking/claiming, overstimulation, light breathplay. (lmk if I missed smth)
MOODBOARD
A/N: minors dni. count how many times I used the word 'devotion' in this fic lmaoo
Slash.
Your blade cuts through flesh like a knife through wet parchment. The soldier barely has time to gasp before crumpling at your feet, eyes wide in shock as the life drains from them. You donât stop to watch them fall. Another comes at you, sword raised in a desperate arc, but itâs slow. Clumsy. Predictable.
A flick of your wrist, and your steel pierces their throat.
The battlefield reeks of smoke, sweat, and the sharp metallic tang of fresh blood. The cries of the dying mix with the clash of steel. The sky above is thick with storm clouds, swirling dark and furious as if the heavens themselves bear witness to this slaughter.
And beside you, he fights.
Jungkook moves like a wraith through the carnage, every strike precise, every motion an extension of his unwavering devotion. His sword is slick with the blood of your enemies, his armor streaked with crimson, but his expression remains unreadable. He never falters. Never hesitates. If you turn, he is there. If you advance, he follows. He is as much a part of your being as the dark and endless power that flows beneath your skin.
And the battle is over before it truly begins.
The last of the opposing army collapses under the weight of your might. Those still standing are stripped of their weapons forced to their knees in the mud. Their leaders are dragged forward, their bodies shaking in fear. The field is silent now, save for the ragged breathing of the survivors and the occasional pained groan of the wounded who still cling to life.
Victory is yours.
It had been inevitable the moment your secret was exposed. Only your inner court knew the truth of what you were. Someone had let the secret slip. Someone had turned the kingdom against you. Whispers of the Queenâs unnatural longevity, of her insatiable hunger, of the power lurking in her veins were well spread now.
At first, they had dismissed it as a myth. But then the whispers turned to fear. And fear breeds rebellion.
So they rose against you, gathering armies under banners of righteousness. They spun tales of salvation, of freeing the land from the âmonsterâ who sat upon the throne.
And now, they kneel. Trembling and waiting for judgment.
Jungkook stands at your side, as he always does. The blood-splattered sword still clutched in his hand, his breathing steady despite the massacre. His hair is damp with sweat, dark strands sticking to his forehead, but his posture remains unshaken.
And even now, with bodies strewn across the battlefield, with the scent of death thick in the air, he looks at you as if you are a goddess.
The captured traitors kneel before you, their wrists bound and heads bowed in fear. They know what is coming. Some weep. Some pray to whatever gods they believe in. None will be heard.
âPlease have mercy,â one dares to whisper, voice hoarse.
Mercy? You smile cruelly. âLet this serve as a lesson.â
With a tilt of your head, Jungkook moves. And one by one, the betrayers fall beneath his blade.
His movements are precise, methodical. There is no hesitation, no wasted motion. A sword raised and then a clean, effortless beheading. Blood spills into the soil, pooling at your feet. He does not flinch, does not falter. He has done this before. He will do it again.
Your most loyal knight. A perfect executioner.
But still, you watch him closely. His hands are steady. His gaze never wavers. But would they tremble if he knew you were watching him the way he watches them?
When the last head rolls, silence falls over the battlefield. Your remaining army stands at attention, waiting. The air is heavy, thick with expectation.
Jungkook turns to you then, falling to one knee. His sword rests at your feet, and then his dark eyes flicker upwards to meet yours.
You notice his hands twitch at his sides. Always ready. Always waiting.
A thought takes root in your mind, one that has lingered for far too long. You tilt your head, voice low, teasing.
"Tell me, my knight. Does your devotion extend beyond the battlefield?"
Jungkook does not hesitate.
He bows his head, breathes the words like an oath.
âMy Queen, I am yours.â
The air in the palace is thick with the scent of burning incense curling in slow tendrils toward the vaulted ceiling. Somewhere beyond these walls, the echoes of victory can be heard, laughter spilling from drunken lips, the rhythmic pounding of drums, the distant sound of celebration as your court feasts in your honor.
Yet here, within the throne room, there is only silence.
You sit upon your throne, fingers tracing absent patterns against the cool metal of your crown. It is a symbol of power and dominance, showcasing the centuries you have ruled. But at this moment, it is nothing more than cold weight against your skin.
Victory should be satisfying. It should be absolute. And yet⊠something lingers. Something unfinished.
You know what it is.
With a flick of your wrist, you summon him. The guards bow, disappearing into the halls to retrieve your knight.
Jungkook.
Your most devoted, your most trusted. And yet, the one who has unsettled something within you for longer than you care to admit.
The wait is not long. It never is with him.
He enters without hesitation. His steps are disciplined each movement precise and controlled. He bows low, but his eyes never leave you.
His armor gleams under the dim candlelight, polished as if to erase the evidence of battle. Yet traces remain. Stubborn stains on his gauntlets, dark smudges along the edges of his breastplate, the last remnants of war clinging to him like a shadow that refuses to fade.
There is no fear in his gaze. No hesitation. No uncertainty.
He stands before you as he always has, as if he has always known you would call for him.
His devotion is unquestionable.
But as you watch him, as you take in the quiet intensity of his stare, the way his hands remain at his sides yet never truly still⊠you wonder if he even knws the depth of his own obedience.
You rise from your throne, slow and deliberate. The faint clink of your jewelry is the only sound as you step forward, circling him like a predator sizing up prey.
Jungkook does not move. His posture remains impeccable, his shoulders squared, and his chin lifted not in defiance but in unwavering submission. His expression is unreadable, but you know him well enough to sense what lingers beneath the surface.
Tension. Restraint. A quiet anticipation that vibrates in the air between you.
You test him. Fingers grazing his jaw, tilting his chin up just enough to force his gaze to yours. A lesser man would flinch, would shy away from your touch, uncertain whether it is a gift or a warning.
Jungkook does neither.
He remains perfectly still, his breath measured and controlled. But you feel the unspoken war raging beneath his calm exterior. His hunger is not for power, not for freedom.
No, it is something far more primal. Far more dangerous.
You wonder if he has spent centuries waiting for this moment. Waiting for you to look at him, not as a knight, not as a tool, but as something more.
He has given you everything including his blade, his loyalty, his blood.
But is that truly all he desires?
You do not grant him what he seeks so easily. That would be too simple. Too merciful. Instead, you test him. A test with words.
âWould you give me anything I desire, Jungkook?â
His answer comes without hesitation. âYes, my Queen.â
His answer is steady and certain. But is it instinct, or something deeper?
You step closer, close enough that the candlelight flickers in his dark eyes. His breath remains even, his shoulders squared, but you know him too well. You see the slightest tension in his throat, the way his fingers flex before stilling at his sides.
âYou have given me everything,â you murmur. âYour loyalty. Your strength. But do you give it freely?â
For the first time, there is a pause. So brief, so fleeting, it might have gone unnoticed if you werenât watching him so intently.
Then, reverently, he answers.
âWhat is freedom to a man who has only ever lived for you?â
Satisfaction hums through you at his reply. It is the answer you expected, the answer you demanded, and yet it still pleases you to hear it fall from his lips.
Without another word, you turn, stepping past him, knowing he will follow.
He does.
Your steps are slow, deliberate, echoing through the dimly lit corridors as you lead him toward your chambers. You do not look back, yet you feel his presence. There is no hesitation in his footsteps, no question of where this night will lead.
When you finally reach your doors, you pause only to push them open, stepping inside without waiting. He follows as if drawn by an unseen force, as if this is inevitable.
The heavy doors shut behind him, the iron lock sliding into place with a finality that seems to settle between you both.
Jungkook stands before you, shoulders squared, gaze steady. No surprise lingers on his face, no uncertainty. If anything, there is something else in his dark eyes, something like quiet acceptance.
Almost as if he had been waiting for this. Expecting it.
You tilt your head, watching him, searching for any sign of fear. You find none. Lifting a hand, you trace your fingers along the collar of his armor, feeling the warm metal beneath your touch. Then, softer now, more dangerous, you ask,
"Will you give me your body, your blood? Would you let me consume you?"
His breath shudders, but his answer does not waver.
"Yes. Anything."
Thatâs all it takes before you pull him toward you, baring your fangs.
Your hands move with urgency, pushing aside the heavy layers of armor that shield him. The breastplate clatters to the ground, followed by the straps and clasps of his pauldrons. Beneath the steel, his tunic clings to his skin, damp with the heat of battle, the lingering scent of blood still fresh on him.
Jungkook does not resist. He never does.
His chest rises and falls, controlled but uneven, as you tilt his head to the side, exposing the column of his throat. The skin there is marred with old scars, remnants of wars fought in your name. Yet, he offers it freely, tilting into your touch, showing is full submission.
And then, you strike.
Your teeth sink into his neck, piercing skin and flesh, and a gasp wrenches from his throat. His body tenses, then melts into you as though he was made for this. Made for you.
You feed slowly at first, savoring the way he trembles, the shudder that rolls through his frame. He does not pull away. If anything, he leans into it, his hands gripping your waist, fingers pressing into you as if to anchor himself.
The act is unmistakably intimate. Erotic.
His breaths come in shallow pants, growing heavier as you drink from him, your fangs buried deep in his flesh. The wet, sinful sound of blood sliding over your tongue fills the space between you. You feel the way his pulse flutters beneath your lips, how his body tenses when you drink a little faster.
The hunger in you stirs, insatiable. The blood seeps from the wound, trailing down his throat, and you press your tongue against it, lapping at the warm liquid before soothing the punctures with a slow, deliberate drag.
A shudder wracks his body, a breathless sound spilling from his lips, raw and wanting.
And still he does not pull away.
By now, his arousal is undeniable, straining against the confines of his pants. The evidence of his desire presses against the fabric, aching nd desperate, but he says nothing. He wouldnât dare.
Your hand drifts downward, fingers trailing along his abdomen before slipping lower, cupping the rigid length of him through the thick material. Even through the fabric, he is burning, his cock heavy and throbbing in your palm.
Jungkook sucks in a sharp breath, his body going rigid for a moment before he exhales, shuddering. His hips twitch ever so slightly, barely perceptible but you notice.
His need is palpable, almost suffocating in the way he holds himself back, trembling beneath your touch, yet refusing to beg. He wants more. more friction, more of you but he knows he has no right to ask for it.
So he takes what you give him, whimpering when you press your palm harder against him, dragging slow, deliberate strokes over his length. The friction is both a relief and a torment, not nearly enough to satisfy, yet too much to bear in silence.
A strangled moan catches in his throat, and his fingers tighten around your waist. He wonders how you havenât reprimanded him for touching you, how you allow his hands to rest upon you so freely. The thought only makes his restraint waver further.
He wants to explore. To let his hands roam, to feel the curves of your body beneath his fingers, to worship you in ways he has only imagined for centuries. But he does not dare.
So he remains still, trembling, waiting, hoping.
You are pleased with his reactions, the way he trembles under your touch yet holds himself back, waiting for your command.
So you decide to be merciful just a little.
âUndress,â you say, voice smooth and commanding. âLay yourself bare for me.â
Jungkook doesnât hesitate. His hands move with practiced efficiency, unfastening the ties of his tunic and pulling it over his head in one swift motion. The fabric falls to the floor, revealing the expanse of his chest, skin scattered withth scars from healed wounds.
His fingers work at the laces of his pants next, undoing them swiftly. There is no shame in his movements, only purpose. He is shedding more than just clothing; he is offering himself to you, wholly, completely.
The moment he tugs down his undergarments, his cock springs free, hard and eager, flushed at the tip.
Your eyes trail down, taking in the sight of him. The length is impressive, thick enough to stretch, with prominent veins running along the shaft. A bead of precum gathers at the tip, glistening under the candlelight.
It almost makes your mouth water.
Jungkook lies himself down on the massive bed, his body tense with anticipation. His chest rises and falls with slow, controlled breaths, but you can feel the heat radiating from him, the barely restrained need coursing through his veins. He is waiting for you to take what is yours.
But you are not so kind as to grant him relief so easily.
You climb atop him, your body pressing flush against his, your weight a deliberate reminder of his submission. His cock twitches against his abdomen, but you ignore it, focusing instead on the way his lips part ever so slightly as you lean in.
Then you kiss him hard.
Jungkook gasps into your mouth, and you take advantage, deepening the kiss, your tongue claiming him in a way he has only ever dreamed of. He tastes of devotion, of longing, and you drink him in, reveling in the way he trembles beneath you.
Your fangs descend, sharp and eager, and you sink them into his lower lip, puncturing the soft flesh. A sharp inhaleâhis body stiffens, but he doesnât pull away. Warm, coppery blood floods your mouth, rich and intoxicating, and you moan as you suck at the wound, savoring every drop.
Jungkookâs hands hover beside you, uncertain. He has fantasized about this moment for centuries, imagined all the ways he might worship you if ever given the chance. And yet now, with you consuming him, he doesnât know what to do.
But one thing he knows for certain: he must not defy you.
Jungkook waits patiently, his hands hovering just shy of your body as if he dares not touch without permission. You revel in his obedience, but you are not yet satisfied. You lean in, pressing your lips to his ear, whispering dark, sinful things, watching for the cracks in his restraint.
His breath hitches, his fingers twitch at his sides, but he does not break.
Not yet.
His hands finally come to rest against your body, ghosting over the fine fabric of your royal robes. The heavy garment is embroidered with intricate gold patterns, the deep crimson fabric flowing like blood with every movement. It drapes over your shoulders, cinched at the waist with delicate chains, leaving only hints of skin visible. It feels like a barrier he is not yet worthy of removing.
You pull away from the kiss at last, leaving him breathless. His lips are swollen, slick with the remnants of his own blood. His head spins slightly, whether from the loss of blood or the sheer intensity of your presence, he does not know.
You sit up, bringing him with you, guiding him to move as you wish. His hands find their place on your body, worshipful, mapping the curves and dips of your form as if committing you to memory.
Then, he hesitates slightlyhis gaze flickering up to meet yours, seeking permission.
You offer him the barest nod.
Emboldened, his hands cup your breasts through the fabric, molding around them, squeezing slightly. His thumbs graze over your nipples, teasing through the layers of silk and embroidery, but you offer him no further mercy.
You watch as frustration flickers in his darkened gaze. He wants to feel your skin beneath his hands, to see you bared before him. But he knows better than to demand.
He will have to earn it.
Your hand trails downward, fingers wrapping around the thick length of his cock, the heat of him burning against your palm. His breath stutters as you stroke him slowly, teasingly, letting your fingers glide over the flushed tip where precum beads and drips onto your skin.
You spread the slickness down his shaft, your grip firm but agonizingly measured. He groans, hips twitching into your touch, though he restrains himself from outright thrusting into your palm.
"Already so desperate," you murmur, watching the way his muscles tense beneath you. "And Iâve barely even touched you."
A moan escapes him when you finally lower your head, lips brushing over the sensitive tip before you take him into your mouth in one smooth motion.
His fingers clutch at the sheets before moving to the back of your head, hesitant at first, then bolder when you donât stop him. His grip tightens as you suck harder, tongue tracing every vein, every ridge.
Your pace quickens, the obscene sounds of your mouth working him over filling the chamber. His control begins to slip, hiip stuttering forward, his need overcoming his restraint. He starts to fuck into your mouth, his groans raw, breath ragged.
But just as he nears the edge, just as his thighs tremble and his grip turns bruising, you pull away.
His cock slips from your lips with a wet pop, slick and throbbing, denied the release he so desperately craves.
Jungkook lets out a frustrated, needy whine, his chest rising and falling rapidly. His eyes are dazed, his lips parted, his expression utterly wrecked.
You simply smile, dragging a finger across your swollen lips before tilting your head.
âAre you pouting, my knight?â you tease. âHow unseemly.â
You lean back once again, taking your time, unfastening each clasp, each layer of fabric that conceals your body from his desperate gaze. Your fingers move with deliberate slowness, teasing the anticipation that already has him trembling.
The first thing to go is the heavy outer robe, the rich fabric slipping down your shoulders, pooling at your feet like discarded silk. Next, the delicate material covering your torso, barely shielding the bare skin beneath. You tug it down, exposing the soft swell of your breasts, but you not fully, just enough to torment him, to watch the way his cock twitches in response.
His breathing grows uneven, his hands clenched into fists at his sides, fighting the urge to reach for you.
âYouâre holding back,â you observe, amused.
Jungkook swallows hard, his jaw tightening. âI have to.â
You hum in approval and continue, letting each remaining piece of clothing slide down your form, revealing inch by inch of bare skin. His eyes darken, pupils blown wide with hunger.
And then, as you shift slightly on the bed, his gaze catches on something else. The faint, glistening stain beneath you, the proof of your arousal soaking into the sheets.
His breath hitches.
You smirk, tilting your head. âSee what you do to me?â
His cock twitches again, the need in his expression almost unbearable. But he still does not touch. He waits because you have not given him permission.
You spread your legs for him, your fingers trailing downward, parting your slick folds with a slow, deliberate motion. The tiny pink pearl at the center of your arousal glistens in the dim candlelight, and Jungkook gasps, his hands flexing at his sides as if physically restraining himself from reaching for you.
His tongue darts out to wet his lips, his voice hoarse with longing. âMay IâŠ?â He hesitates, swallowing. âDo I have the luxury of tasting you, my Queen?â
You chuckle, shaking your head. âNot tonight.â
A flicker of disappointment crosses his features, but he does not argue. He wouldnât dare.
âThis is your reward,â you remind him, tilting his chin up so he meets your gaze. âFor fighting so fearlessly beside me. For all those centuries of devotion.â
His breath shudders as he exhales, his hands gripping the sheets beneath him as if to ground himself.You spread yourself wider, letting him see every glistening inch of what heâs denied. âTonight, you take. And I will give.â
You lift yourself onto his lap, your thighs framing his hips as you settle against him. The moment your soaked folds press against his length, Jungkook lets out a strained moan, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. But you donât grant him what he craves.
Instead, you roll your hips, dragging your slick heat along his length, coating him in your arousal. The friction is intoxicating, a slow torment that has you both gasping. His cock twitches beneath you, so hard it aches, while your pwn need pulses, demanding more.
He groans, fingers digging into the sheets as if holding himself back. âPleaseâŠâ he rasps, voice wrecked with desperation.
You shush him, pressing a single finger to his lips. âNot yet.â
He exhales shakily, his thighs tensing beneath you. He is so close already, you can feel it in the way his body trembles, in the way his cock jerks against your clit with every glide. Heâs terrified heâll spill before you even take him inside but thatâs exactly what you want.
You halt your movements abruptly, lifting yourself just enough to deny him the pleasure he was chasing. His breath hitches, a frustrated whimper slipping past his lips, but he knows better than to protest.
Placing both hands on his chest, you push him backward until his back meets the mattress, his body fully beneath yours. You grip the base of his cock, aligning his tip with your dripping entrance, teasing the head against your slick folds. His breath stutters, muscles taut with anticipation.
And then, slowly, you sink onto him.
The stretch is exquisite, a delicious burn that has you both moaning in unison. He fills you so perfectly, your walls clenching around him as you take him in inch by inch. His fingers twitch at his sides, his restraint admirable, but you can see the way his throat bobs, the way his eyes glaze over as pleasure overtakes him.
Leaning back, you brace your hands against his strong thighs, lifting yourself slightly before rolling your hips. Jungkook lets out a strangled groan, his hands fisting the sheets beside him. His eyes flutter shut, lost in the pleasure coursing through his body.
But that will not do.
âOpen them,â you command, your voice firm.
He obeys instantly, dark eyes locking onto yours. Theyâre wild with hunger, with devotion.
Your nails dig into his thighs, sharp enough to break skin, a thin trail of blood beading at the surface. But if he feels the pain, he does not show it. His pleasure is too consuming, too overpowering. And so, he gives himself to you fully, offering his blood, sweat and tears to you like he always has.
His vision turns hazy pleasure clouding his thoughts, but his eyes never stray from you. He watches, entranced, as your breasts bounce with every movement, your body moving above him like something divine, yet here you are, claiming him, taking everything he has to give.
He feels it building, the telltale tightening in his abdomen, the coil about to snap. His breath stutters, his hands twitch where they grip the sheets, but before he can even manage to stammer a warning, his release overtakes him.
His body shudders violently beneath you, pleasure ripping through him as his cum spills inside you, hot and thick, painting your walls in spurts. The sensation is blinding, overwhelming, pulling a guttural moan from deep in his chest.
But you do not stop.
You keep moving, keep bouncing on him, greedily milking every last drop, your walls clenching around his still-sensitive cock. His whimpers are near-pained, overstimulated, but he does not beg you to stop. he wouldnât dare.
Not when he belongs to you.
The heat of you around him is unbearable, intoxicating. Even as he shudders from the aftermath of his release, his cock twitches, hardening again inside you. The warmth of your walls, the way you squeeze around him, milking every last dropâitâs too much, yet not enough.
He is lost in you, in the way your slick coats him, in the sensation of being fully sheathed inside your tight, wet heat. It is maddening, the way you move, the way your body clenches down on him like you never want to let him go.
His hands tremble as they grip your waist, not to control but to ground himself to remind himself that this moment is real, that you are truly allowing him to have this, even if only for tonight.
The pleasure builds faster this time, his cock throbbing inside you, desperate for another release. He can feel your walls fluttering around him, your own peak drawing near.
âMy Queen,â he gasps, voice wrecked, âIâm close.â
Your pace does not falter. Instead, you ride him harder, faster, pushing both of you over the edge.
He spills inside you again just as you come, your walls clenching down around him in a vice-like grip. His moans mix with yours, your cries of pleasure perfectly in sync. The feeling is euphoric, all-consuming, leaving him breathless beneath you.
He has never felt more complete, more worshipful. Even in pleasure, he is nothing but yours.
You pull yourself off him with deliberate slowness, letting his length slip free from your warmth, leaving him raw and sensitive. He barely has time to catch his breath before your mouth is on him again, lips wrapping around his overstimulated cock.
A sharp gasp leaves him, body twitching violently at the sudden contact. The pleasure is unbearable now, his sensitivity turning every flick of your tongue into something dangerously close to pain. But he does not push you away.
His queen, his goddess, the only being he will ever worship, is indulging in him, in his body, in his weakness. He exists for you to ruin.
His hands fist the sheets, muscles locked as his body fights against the onslaught of sensation. He groans, voice breaking, and you hum around him, sending vibrations through his length. He knows he wonât last, canât last under your relentless hunger.
His hips jerk involuntarily, his entire body shuddering as his release tears through him again. This one is painful, forced from his exhausted body, his cock barely able to keep up with your immortal stamina.
A strangled moan escapes him as he spills into your mouth, the last remnants of his pleasure drawn from him until he has nothing left to give. His vision is blurred, his limbs trembling.
And then you kiss him.
His breath catches as your tongue slides into his mouth, the taste of his own seed spreading across his tongue. A cruel reminder of how utterly you have taken him, consumed him, claimed him.
You straddle him, hand at his throat, pressing down.
His body reacts instantly, his muscles coiling beneath your touch, a sharp inhale drawn between parted lips. But it is not fear that darkens his gaze. It is something else, something raw and consuming. His pulse flutters against your palm, quick and eager, a silent plea without words.
Beneath you, he is utterly vulnerable.
Your grip tightens. He exhales shakily, a strangled sound caught in his throat. You can feel him growing hard again, his body responding to the cruel intimacy of your touch. He doesnât fight it. He doesnât fight you.
His devotion is absolute. Even as the air leaves his lungs, even as his vision begins to blur at the edges.
You lean in, your lips grazing his ear as you whisper softly, like a loverâs confession, yet laced with something far deadlier.
"I know what you did."
A shudder runs through him. His breath catches. His fingers twitch against the sheets, as if resisting the urge to hold onto you. To anchor himself.
But he does not beg.
He does not deny it.
Instead, he smiles.
As if this was always meant to be. As if this is what he wants.
Your grip tightens further, pressing deep into the delicate skin of his throat, cutting off the last remnants of air. His body jerks beneath you, muscles tightening, chest heaving in a desperate, instinctual attempt to pull in breath. His lips part in a soundless gasp, but no words come.
His eyes remain locked on yours. Glassy and devoted.
Even as the fight leaves his body.
Even as his pulse weakens beneath your fingers, fading into nothing.
Even as his body finally stills, lips parted, frozen in the ghost of his final worship.
You end him.
Jungkook is immortal but only because you willed it so. He has always been untouchable to the rest of the world, his life tethered to your mercy alone. And now, as you stare down at his lifeless body beneath you, the realization slams into you, cold and final, like a blade driven straight through your chest.
He let you kill him.
He never betrayed you to defeat you. That was never his goal. No, his crime had always been one of devotion, not treachery. He forced your hand because there was no other way. He knew you would never let a traitor live.
A final act of love, masked as betrayal.
And even now, in death, his body betrays his yearning. His arousal lingers, stiff and undeniable, a grotesque echo of his devotion. His final gift to you.
For centuries, he had yearned to be more than just your knight. He had watched you take countless lovers, while he stood guard outside your door, hearing the sounds of pleasure that would never be his. It had gutted him, wounded him more than any battlefield ever could.
You had gifted him immortality as a token of his loyalty, his unwavering service. But in doing so, you had condemned him to a fate crueler than death. To live on forever, knowing he would never be anything more than a weapon at your side. Knowing that no matter how many lifetimes passed, he would never be the one you reached for.
So he did the only thing he could.
He betrayed you.
Because he knew that you would never let a traitor live.
The room is silent. The air is thick with the scent of blood.
Jungkook's body lies beneath you, utterly still, his skin cooling beneath your touch. You should feel satisfied. You should feel victorious.
Instead, there is only a hollowness, a slow, creeping thing curling inside you like smoke.
You stare at him, the man who had knelt before you in unwavering devotion, the warrior who had spilled blood in your name, the fool who had loved you enough to orchestrate his own demise. He had yearned for this, had wanted to be consumed by you in every way possible. And you had granted him his wish.
Then why does it feel as if something vital has slipped through your fingers?
Your fangs remain stained with his blood, the taste of him still thick on your tongue. You should have savored it more. Should have recognized what it meant when his hands had trembled against your skin, not with fear, but with desperate reverence.
Perhaps this had been his final lesson to you.
Perhaps his betrayal had not been a betrayal at all, but the greatest act of devotion.
You sit in the silence, staring at the body of the only one who had ever truly belonged to you. And for the first time in centuries, you wonderâŠ
⥠Warning: Female!Reader X Male!Yandere, Male!Sodier!Guard!Yandere, Delusional!Yandere, Mention of non-consensual relationship, Mention of nsfw, Short imagine.
⥠Note:I had thoughts about nsfw with a medieval soldier/guard, but I needed to at least put something about it since I'm not very good with NSFW stories, maybe if this has repercussions I'll write something đ
⥠Note2:I don't speak English so I'm sorry for any mistakes in writing.
â ïž Minors please dni with most posts/follow â ïž
Fight battles and wars that are not mine, live for a single purpose, the purpose of serving, the duty to the Queen and to this nation.
Never before have I been so loyal to something or someone, living life in an endless limbo, without purpose or happiness, without duty or reason to continue living, existing as a long-lost soul, wandering in this dark and endless limbo.
I was always good at obeying orders, doing what I was told to do, after all;
I had no ambitions, values, opinions or desires, I was a shell of a man, so I don't understandâŠ
That woman, who had just been entrusted with such a huge responsibility, taking care of an entire kingdom, carrying such a heavy burden that was placed on her shoulders without even having her wishes taken into consideration, could have noticed my presence.
She looked deep into my eyes and extended her hand to me, offering me a purpose, a reason to live, not as an order but as a request.
As if we were equal, as if what I wanted was important.
A warrior, her sword, her hands, her dog, I was all of that.
Fight your battles, Win your wars, be your eyes and ears, be your most loyal dog, but I was flawed
Serving her is my purpose, my duty, but my desire was to possess her.
Desire corrupted me, growing inside my chest like weeds, gnawing at me from the inside, expanding and feeding on every little sigh, every little smile, every look from her.
I don't know when it started, but when I finally noticed it, it had already spread through my being like a fire in a dry forest on a burning summer day.
My body burned in flames even away from her, my mind, corroded with profane thoughts, making me desire her so ardently.
Your smile, your voice, your eyes, your touch⊠I felt haunted every time I closed my eyes.
I wanted to touch her, hear her voice calling to me, feel her tremors and fill her with my bastards, desecrate her completely, make her mine and mine alone.
I know she feels the same, her kindness, her pity, it can be nothing but love, a pure love from someone who has never been tainted by the sadism and cruelty of life, who has never been desecrated by lust and greed, a pure being .
The queen must be desecrated by the world, but it's okay if it's meâŠright?
Your most loyal guard, your most obedient dog, right?
I can it,right? I have that right, I'm only loyal to the queen!
She certainly agrees with me⊠I can protect her from the dark world, even if I end up desecrating her along the wayâŠ
The queen will be alive and safe, the queen will be mine...
Long live for the Queen
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What if yn, the kind, merciful, generous, and pure innocent queen of Narnia had somehow became part of "game of thrones"? The houses shown in the show are yandere for her, but have never ending hunger for power so they try to get there sons to marry her, become king of Narnia, and plant heirs in her to birth. But who would win?
mentions : sevika v ambessa, violence, mentions of blood, bad ass reader, caitvi, major character death, romance
notes: mixed emotions this chapter
âČ previous chapter | next chapter âł
The snowfall thickened as you and your army pressed forward, each flake swirling violently in the harsh winter wind. The castle loomed ahead, an ominous silhouette against the storm-darkened sky. The usual sounds of distant lifeâguards pacing the walls, soldiers calling to one anotherâwere absent. It was too quiet. The kind of quiet that meant nothing but trouble.
Your grip tightened around your reins as your horse trudged through the thickening snow. The cold bit at your exposed skin, but you barely noticed. Your mind was elsewhereâon the battle ahead, on the blood that would soon stain the ground, and on the weight of everything that had led you to this moment.
Eros had left after Melâs death, disappearing back into the forest without hesitation. You had known he would go eventually; he was a wild creature, not meant to stay by your side forever. But saying goodbye still felt like losing a part of yourself. He had outgrown the life you could give him, needing space to hunt, to roam free. It was selfish to ask him to stay, even if every part of you wanted to. As he vanished into the trees, you whispered a silent promise to yourselfâno matter how far he roamed, he would always be your best friend.
Jinx had worked tirelessly, gathering the materials she needed to craft her explosives. The stolen Noxian bombs from the camp had been a gift from the gods, cutting down her work significantly. By the time you reached the castle, every cart and satchel was packed with carefully assembled explosives, ready to tear through stone and steel. She had been ecstatic, humming to herself as she secured the last of them, her fingers twitching with excitement. But beneath the energy, you could see the tension in her shouldersâthe understanding that this wasnât just another game.
As you rode on, Sevika kept glancing back at you. She never spoke a word, but her eyes said enough. She was waiting for you to change your mind, to turn back before it was too late. The unspoken question lingered in the air between you: Are you sure about this?
But you had already made your choice.
There was no turning back now. Not when you were this close. Not when Ambessaâs reign of terror had already taken so much.
The finish line was within reach, and you would see this through to the endâno matter the cost.
The wind howled as you urged your horse forward, your army pressing on behind you. The castleâs towering walls loomed closer, their stone surfaces slick with ice, dark banners bearing Ambessaâs crest barely visible through the thick snowfall. The silence was suffocating. There were no watchmen shouting from the battlements, no soldiers patrolling the gatesâonly the eerie stillness of a battlefield waiting to be claimed.
Sevika pulled her horse alongside yours, her brows furrowed in suspicion. âThis doesnât sit right,â she muttered, scanning the area. âWhere are the guards?â
Your fingers twitched against your swordâs hilt. âMaybe they know weâre coming,â you murmured. âMaybe they want us to walk right in.â
Jinx snorted from behind you. âOh, thatâd be a dream come true,â she said, patting the satchel of explosives slung over her shoulder. âWouldnât mind blowing up a welcome party.â
But the lack of resistance only made the tension worse. The castle was a fortressâthere should have been some kind of defense, some sign that Ambessaâs forces were still inside. But instead, the gates stood eerily open, the path leading inward dark and foreboding.
Your army halted at the castleâs entrance. The soldiers murmured amongst themselves, shifting uneasily in their saddles. You turned to them, your voice firm. âWe donât know what weâre walking into. Stay together, stay alert. If this is a trap, weâll spring it on them first.â
Sevika nodded in approval before dismounting, her hand on the hilt of her sword as she took the first step forward. You followed, leading your forces through the towering gates and into the castleâs courtyard.
The air was thick with the scent of burning wood and steel. There were signs of a struggleâblood smeared across the stone, shattered weapons left abandonedâbut no bodies.
âWhere the hell is everyone?â one of the soldiers muttered.
Jinx scanned the area, her eyes sharp. âThey were here not long ago.â She knelt down, dragging her fingers through the fresh blood pooled along the cracks in the stone. âSomebody cleaned up, but not well enough.â
You exchanged a glance with Sevika, your unease growing. This wasnât just an empty castle. This was bait.
A sudden gust of wind slammed the main doors shut behind you.
Then, the first arrow came flying.
It struck one of your soldiers in the throat before he could even react, his body crumpling to the ground.
âAMBUSH!â Sevika roared, drawing her sword as Noxian soldiers emerged from the shadowsâhidden behind pillars, archways, and the castleâs high walls. They had been waiting for you.
You barely had time to draw your own weapon before the battlefield exploded into chaos. The clash of steel rang through the air as your soldiers met the enemy head-on. Jinx had already disappeared into the fray, likely working her way toward a vantage point.
A Noxian warrior lunged at you, his blade slicing through the air. You dodged, countering with a swift strike that cut through his armor, sending him stumbling backward. Another came from your left, but before he could reach you, Sevika drove her sword through his chest, shoving him aside like dead weight.
âStick to the plan!â you shouted over the chaos. âJinxâget those bombs in place!â
Jinxâs laughter echoed from above. âAlready on it, sweetheart!â
Explosions rocked the castleâs walls, flames licking up the stone as the first of Jinxâs bombs went off. The Noxians faltered, momentarily thrown off by the sudden blasts.
You took the opening, cutting through another soldier before pushing forward. You needed to get insideâto find Ambessa and end this once and for all.
Sevika was already at your side, fighting off enemies as you carved a path toward the castleâs main hall. The entrance loomed ahead, firelight flickering behind its iron doors.
And then, through the chaos, you saw her.
Ambessa stood at the top of the stairs, watching the battle unfold with a calculating gaze. She didnât flinch at the carnage, didnât even seem surprised that you had made it this far.
She smirked.
âI was beginning to think you wouldnât make it,â she called out.
Rage boiled in your chest.
This was it.
The final battle had begun.
You tightened your grip on your sword, your breath coming in sharp bursts as the battlefield raged around you. Ambessa stood at the top of the stairs like a queen surveying her domain, clad in thick Noxian armor that gleamed even through the thick snowfall. Her smirk was infuriating, her confidence unshaken despite the chaos unfolding beneath her feet.
Sevika took a step closer to you, her blade dripping with fresh blood. âSheâs waiting for us,â she muttered, voice low but edged with urgency. âShe wants us to come to her.â
âSheâll get what she wants,â you said through clenched teeth.
Jinxâs explosions continued to erupt around the courtyard, throwing Noxian soldiers off balance and creating openings for your forces. The tide of battle swayed back and forth like a deadly dance, but you didnât care about the rest of it now. The only thing that mattered was the woman standing above you.
You moved first.
Breaking into a sprint, you carved through the battlefield, cutting down anyone foolish enough to stand in your way. Sevika was right behind you, taking out soldiers with heavy, brutal swings. Jinxâs laughter echoed somewhere in the background, but it was drowned out by the roar of the battle and the pounding of your heartbeat.
Ambessa waited patiently, her hands resting on the hilt of her massive sword, her expression almost amused. It wasnât until you were nearly at the steps that she finally moved.
With a single step forward, she drew her blade, its enormous size making your own weapon seem almost insignificant. âCome then,â she said, her voice carrying over the battlefield. âLetâs see if youâve earned the right to stand against me.â
You didnât hesitate.
The clash of metal rang through the courtyard as your sword met hers. The sheer force of her strike nearly sent you to your knees, but you held firm, pushing back with everything you had. Sparks flew as you struggled against her strength, her smirk never faltering.
She shoved you back with terrifying ease. âYouâre just as beautiful as your mother,â she mused, rolling her shoulders as if this was nothing more than a warm-up. âLetâs see if you die like her.â
You barely had time to regain your footing before she lunged again. This time, you dodged, barely avoiding the downward arc of her blade as it slammed into the stone, cracking it beneath her sheer power.
Sevika took her chance, attacking from the side with a heavy swing. Ambessa turned, deflecting the blow with ease, her movements precise and controlled. She pivoted, driving her elbow into Sevikaâs ribs before kicking her away with a brutal force that sent her sprawling.
You gritted your teeth, slashing at her exposed side, but she twisted at the last second, your blade only grazing her armor.
Ambessaâs counterattack came fast. She swung at you with devastating strength, and though you managed to block, the impact sent shockwaves through your arms.
She was toying with you.
Your anger flared, and you surged forward again, feinting left before striking at her right. This time, your blade found its mark, slicing into the exposed flesh of her upper arm. Blood stained the snow, and for the first time, Ambessaâs smirk faded.
But instead of anger, there was something else in her eyes.
Amusement.
âGood,â she said, rolling her shoulder. âVery good.â
Then she struck harder.
Her next blow knocked you off your feet, your sword flying from your grasp. You hit the ground hard, your breath torn from your lungs. Above you, Ambessa raised her blade, prepared to end it in one clean stroke.
âNO!â
A blur of movement. Jinx.
The explosion came a second later.
Ambessa barely had time to react before the bomb detonated at her feet, sending her staggering backward in a cloud of fire and smoke. The blast rocked the ground, and for a moment, everything was disorientedâthe ringing in your ears drowning out the battle, the thick smoke clouding your vision.
A hand grabbed your wrist, pulling you up.
âCome on, weâre not done yet!â Jinx shouted, eyes wild with adrenaline.
You shook off the daze, your gaze snapping back to Ambessa as she emerged from the smoke. She was injured now, her armor scorched, blood dripping from a fresh wound on her temple. But she was still standing.
Still smiling.
âIs that all you have?â she taunted, wiping blood from her face.
Your fingers curled around your sword as you picked it back up.
This wasnât over.
Not yet.
You looked over at Jinx, who was still gripping your wrist tightly, her fingers digging into your skin as if she could physically hold you back. Her wide blue eyes were filled with something rareâconcern.
âCheck on Sevika. I got this,â you said, voice firm despite the exhaustion weighing down your limbs.
Jinx, for once, didnât listen. She shook her head, her grip tightening. âNo. You donât,â she insisted, her voice unusually serious.
âI said go get Sevika, Jinx!â you barked, yanking your wrist free from her grasp. Jinx flinched, her jaw tightening as she stared at you for a moment longer. Then, with a frustrated scoff, she turned and sprinted toward where Sevika had fallen.
With Jinx gone, your attention snapped back to Ambessa. She was watching you, that ever-present smirk tugging at the corners of her lips. But you wanted to wipe it off her face.
"You just keep coming backâŠ" you said, taking a step forward. "Just like your daughter."
The smirk twitched.
âI made sure she died,â you continued, voice dripping with venom. âI have her head as proof.â
For the first time since the fight began, something shifted in Ambessa. The arrogance, the amusementâit all drained from her face in an instant, replaced by something darker.
Rage.
Her eyes burned as her fingers clenched around the hilt of her sword. Then, without hesitation, she let out a roar and charged.
You barely had time to react before she was upon you, her massive blade swinging down with deadly precision. You threw yourself to the side, the steel missing you by inches as it slammed into the ground, carving deep into the frozen earth.
Ambessa didnât let up. She ripped her sword free, pivoting on her heel and coming at you again with terrifying speed. You ducked just in time, feeling the blade whistle past your head. Snow kicked up around you as you rolled out of the way, scrambling to your feet.
But she was relentless.
She swung again, this time aiming for your midsection. You barely managed to parry, but the sheer force of her attack sent you skidding backward. The impact rattled through your arms, nearly numbing your hands.
"You should have stayed dead," Ambessa growled, her voice thick with fury.
You spat onto the bloodstained snow, tightening your grip on your weapon.
"Iâll never die," you shot back.
Ambessa let out another furious roar and lunged again.
This time, you were ready.
Another explosion rocked the battlefield, this one more violent than the last. The force of it sent shockwaves through the ground, shaking the very foundation beneath your feet. The platform you stood on cracked with a sickening snap before it completely gave way.
You barely had time to react before you were plummeting, the world tilting as you fell. The impact was brutal. You hit the frozen ground with bone-rattling force, the breath ripped from your lungs as sharp pain erupted through your side. You knew instantlyâsomething was broken. A few ribs, at least.
Gritting your teeth, you forced yourself to move, but before you could even try to stand, a heavy boot came crashing down onto your chest, pinning you in place. A sharp, searing pain shot through your ribs, and you let out a hiss, glaring up at the towering figure above you.
Ambessa.
She loomed over you, her expression carved from stone, but her eyes burned with pure, unfiltered rage. Her breathing was heavy, controlled, but you could see the storm raging beneath. You had hit a nerve.
âDonât take it too harshly,â you wheezed, forcing a smirk despite the pain clawing at your body. âIt was an eye for an eye.â
Ambessaâs jaw tightened. Her grip on her sword flexed as she gazed down at you. âThat mouth of yours is what caused this death.â
With that, she lifted her blade, aiming to bring it down in one swift, final strike.
Before the sword could fall, a blur of movement slammed into her, knocking her clean off of you. The force sent her stumbling backward, her weapon clattering to the ground.
Vander.
He tackled her with all his strength, his broad form colliding with hers like a wrecking ball. They hit the ground hard, rolling through the snow in a brutal tangle of limbs and fists. Vander wasted no time. His fists crashed against Ambessaâs face, his knuckles stained red as he fought with raw, unyielding fury.
You coughed, each breath stabbing through your ribs like a blade, but you forced yourself to move. Your hands trembled as you pushed yourself up, your vision swimming as you clutched your aching side. You needed to actânow.
With a groan of pain, you reached for your bow, wincing as the movement sent fresh waves of agony through your body. Every second felt like an eternity as you fumbled to pull an arrow from your bag. Your fingers wrapped around the shaft, your breath coming in ragged gasps as you forced yourself to focus.
Ambessa had managed to shove Vander off, her strength unmatched even as blood dripped from her split lip. She was reaching for her sword.
You couldnât let that happen.
Taking a deep, shuddering breath, you raised your bow, the strain in your ribs nearly unbearable. You pulled back the string, your arms shaking as you lined up your shot. The pain blurred your vision, but you ignored it.
And then, you let go.
The arrow sliced through the air with deadly precision, striking Ambessaâs arm just as she reached for her blade. She let out a sharp grunt, the force of the impact making her stagger. Blood bloomed against the fabric of her sleeve as she snarled, turning to glare at you with murderous fury.
Ambessaâs growl of pain was low and guttural, her eyes locking onto you with a murderous glare. The arrow had buried itself deep into her upper arm, making her momentarily falter, but she was far from finished. Even wounded, she was still a force to be reckoned with.
Vander took the opening without hesitation. He drove his fist into her jaw with a thunderous crack, sending her reeling backward. But Ambessa was quickâtoo quick. She twisted with the blow, using its momentum to bring her elbow crashing into Vanderâs ribs. He grunted in pain, staggering, but he didnât go down.
You exhaled sharply, gripping your side as you forced yourself to move. Every step was agony, but you ignored it, notching another arrow despite your shaking hands.
Ambessa snarled, ripping the arrow from her arm with nothing but sheer brute force. Blood dripped from the wound, staining the snow beneath her, but she barely acknowledged it.
âYou think this is over?â she spat, her voice rough but unwavering. She flicked the broken arrow to the ground, eyes blazing as she turned back toward you.
You didnât flinch.
âIt ends tonight,â you said, your voice strained but steady.
Ambessa let out a low, humorless chuckle. âThen come, child,â she taunted, raising her fists. âLetâs finish what we started.â
But before you could make a move, another explosion detonated in the distance, shaking the battlefield once more. The sky lit up in a fiery glow as Jinxâs bombs tore through the outer walls of the castle. The shockwave sent ice and debris flying through the air, forcing everyone to brace themselves.
Vander cursed under his breath, shielding his face from the blast, while you instinctively staggered back.
Ambessa, however, didnât retreat. She charged.
You barely had time to react before she was on you.
Her hand closed around your throat, her grip like iron as she slammed you into the nearest pile of rubble. Pain flared through your back, your vision momentarily blacking out from the impact. You clawed at her wrist, gasping for air as she pressed down harder.
âYour arrogance will be your downfall,â she growled, eyes filled with fury. âJust like your fatherâs.â
The mention of him sent a fresh surge of rage through you. Gritting your teeth, you reached down, fumbling for the dagger strapped to your hip.
Ambessa saw it too late.
With a desperate lunge, you drove the blade into her side.
She let out a sharp hiss, her grip loosening just enough for you to break free. Gasping, you staggered forward, coughing as you sucked in a painful breath.
Ambessa clutched the wound, but she didnât fall. If anything, she looked more enraged than before.
Vander stepped between you both, his stance firm. âEnough,â he barked.
But Ambessa wasnât listening.
She pulled the dagger from her side and tossed it away, cracking her neck as she advanced once more.
You tightened your grip on your bow.
Ambessa lunged.
You barely had time to react as she swung her fist at you, her raw strength forcing you back. Your ribs screamed in protest, but you swallowed the pain, dodging just as her second strike came crashing down. The force of her blows cracked the frozen ground beneath you.
Vander tried to intercept her again, but Ambessa shoved him aside with brutal efficiency, her focus locked solely on you. Ambessaâs shove sent Vander sprawling to the side, his body hitting the ground with a harsh thud. He groaned but didnât get back up. It was just you and her now.
You barely had time to breathe before she was on you again. Ambessa moved with terrifying speed for someone of her size, her fists swinging with enough force to break bone. You dodged the first hit by a hairâs breadth, the air whistling as it cut past your face, but the second punch slammed into your ribs.
A sickening crack echoed through the battlefield.
You choked on your own breath, pain splintering through your body. Your knees buckled, and you staggered back, clutching your side. Ambessa didnât give you a moment to recover.
A powerful kick slammed into your stomach, sending you flying backward. You hit the frozen ground hard, skidding across the ice and snow. Blood filled your mouth as you gasped for air, your vision blurring. You tried to push yourself up, but Ambessa was already looming over you, her expression dark and merciless.
âYouâve lost,â she said, her voice like steel.
She raised her foot and stomped down on your chest. Agony erupted through you as you let out a strangled cry. You could feel something shifting painfully insideâanother broken rib, maybe more.
Ambessa leaned down, her weight pressing harder on you, making it nearly impossible to breathe. âYou thought you could stand against me? You are nothing compared to real warriors. Compared to me.â
Your vision was tunneling. Black spots danced across your sight, and your limbs felt like they were filled with lead.
This was it. You were going to die.
But something inside you refused.
Gritting your teeth, you ignored the searing pain and moved.
With all the strength you had left, you reached down to your belt, fingers wrapping around the handle of a dagger. Before Ambessa could react, you slashed at her calf, cutting deep.
She roared in pain, stumbling back just enough for her foot to lift off your chest. You sucked in a desperate breath and rolled away, pushing yourself to your feet despite the agony wracking your body.
Ambessaâs glare was murderous. She lunged at you again, her arms outstretched to grab you, but you used your smaller size to your advantage. You ducked under her grasp, spinning around her as you grabbed another dagger from your belt.
She turned, swinging wildly, and her fist connected with your cheek.
Stars exploded behind your eyes, and you crashed onto the snow, dazed. The cold seeped into your bones, but you forced yourself to move, to keep fighting.
Ambessa grabbed you by the collar, hauling you up with ease. âStay down!â she snarled, throwing you against a broken pillar. The impact rattled every part of you, and for a moment, all you could do was cough up blood.
You were losing.
As the pain coursed through your battered body, your vision blurred, and for a brief moment, the battlefield faded away. You werenât in the middle of a war anymore. You were back in the underground hideout, years ago, standing across from Silco in the dimly lit training room.
He circled you, a wooden sword in hand, his mismatched eyes locked onto yours with that calculating sharpness he always had. You were younger thenâstill reckless, still learning. And frustrated.
âI canât do this,â you had muttered, gripping your training blade so tightly your knuckles turned white. Your muscles ached from endless hours of sparring, and your body was covered in bruises from every time he knocked you down. âIâll never be strong enough.â
Your father had merely tilted his head, unimpressed. âOh?â He strode forward, swinging his blade, and you barely managed to block it. The force sent you stumbling back, your feet barely steadying in time to avoid falling. âIf you believe that, then youâve already lost.â
You huffed, sweat dripping from your brow. âYouâre twice my size.â
He chuckled, amused. âThen stop fighting like you are my size.â Silco lowered his sword slightly and stepped closer, his gaze piercing. âStrength is more than muscle. Itâs your mind, your will, your ability to find an opening when all seems lost.â He tapped the side of his head. âThe moment you let despair win, you die.â
You swallowed hard, looking away.
But Silco wasnât finished. He placed a firm hand on your shoulder, making you meet his gaze again. For once, there was no condescensionâjust certainty. âYou are not weak, my rose,â he said, voice low, steady. âYouâve survived things that would have broken most people. You have a fire inside youâone that refuses to die, no matter how many times you fall.â His fingers tightened slightly. âGet up. And fight.â
The memory crashed into you like a wave, and suddenly, you were back in the present. Back in the freezing snow, your body screaming in pain, Ambessa Medarda standing over you, her sword raised for the final strike.
But Your fatherâs voice still echoed in your head.
"Get up. And fight."
Something inside you snapped.
A sharp, desperate breath filled your lungs, and with the last of your strength, you moved.
And that was all you needed.
Ambessa stalked toward you, her broad shoulders casting a shadow over your broken body. You could barely keep yourself upright, but you tightened your grip on your daggers.
She reached for youâ
And you struck.
With a burst of final, desperate strength, you lunged forward, driving one dagger deep into her throat.
Ambessaâs eyes widened.
Her hands shot up to grab you, but you were faster. With a guttural cry, you twisted the blade and plunged the second dagger into the other side of her throat, cutting through muscle and windpipe.
She gaspedâa wet, choking soundâas blood gushed from the wounds.
You grabbed the front of her armor, forcing her to look at you as she struggled for breath.
âLook at me as you die, Medarda,â you snarled, your voice shaking with rage and exhaustion.
Ambessa trembled, her hands gripping at the daggers, but it was already over. The strength left her body, and she fell to her knees before finally collapsing into the snow.
Dead.
You swayed on your feet, every part of you screaming in agony. Your hands were covered in her blood. Your chest burned with every breath. But you were still standing.
Barely.
Your legs gave out, and you sank to the ground, panting heavily as the world around you blurred. The battle was still raging in the distance, but for this moment, all you could do was stare at Ambessaâs lifeless body.
You had won.
But at what cost?
The battlefield was eerily silent as you stepped forward, the cold wind biting at your skin as the weight of what had just transpired settled on your shoulders. The once-deafening sounds of clashing steel, war cries, and dying screams had faded into a tense quiet. Snow, now mixed with blood, blanketed the ground beneath your boots as you moved with purpose, your breathing ragged but steady.
Vander groaned as you helped him up, his weight heavy against you. His face was bloodied, his body battered, but he was alive. You guided him toward a piece of rubble and eased him down, making sure he could sit upright. âYou good?â you asked, voice hoarse. Vander huffed a breath, wincing but nodding. âIâll live,â he muttered, offering you a half-smirk despite the pain.
You gave a small nod before turning away, your eyes locking onto the lifeless body of Ambessa Medarda. The once-mighty warlord lay in a pool of crimson, her formidable presence reduced to nothing but a corpse. Her armor was cracked, her sword lay discarded, and the fight that had once burned in her eyes was extinguished.
Stepping over her, you reached down and grasped the heavy metal faceplate that had adorned her helmet. It was dented from battle, smeared with bloodâboth hers and your own. You gripped it tightly, feeling the weight of it in your palm as you turned toward the castle.
The battle still raged on near the entrance, Noxian soldiers and Zaunites locked in combat. But you didnât hesitate. With every painful step, you moved forward, fueled by something far greater than pain.
Then, you shouted.
âYour leader is dead!â
Your voice rang out, cutting through the chaos like a blade. It echoed through the battlefield, and slowlyâone by oneâthe fighting ceased. Swords were lowered. Guns were stilled. Breathless soldiers turned to look at you, their eyes wide as the realization set in.
With a final motion, you lifted Ambessaâs armor piece high for all to seeâbefore throwing it down into the middle of the rubble. It landed with a dull clang, a single, undeniable symbol of victory.
The Noxians stared at it. At her crest. At the blood that stained it. Some exchanged uneasy glances. Others stood frozen in disbelief.
And then, one by one, their weapons dropped to the ground.
The war was over.
Your body swayed, unsteady, as the weight of your injuries bore down on you. Every inch of you ached, your ribs screaming in agony with each shallow breath. The world around you blurred, the sounds of victory fading into a distant hum. Your vision darkened at the edges, your legs giving out beneath you.
Just as you were about to collapse, strong arms caught you, preventing you from hitting the bloodstained ground. A familiar grip held you firm, keeping you upright even as your knees buckled. You blinked through the haze, your gaze struggling to focus on the person holding you.
Vi.
Her face was tight with worry, her hands gripping you securely. âI got you,â she murmured, her voice unusually soft.
Caitlyn appeared beside her, quickly slipping an arm around you as well, helping Vi support your weight. Her brows were furrowed, eyes scanning your battered form with concern. âYouâre barely standing,â she noted, glancing at Vi before focusing back on you.
Despite the searing pain, you forced yourself to speak. âIs⊠everyone okay?â Your voice was weak, barely above a whisper.
Vi huffed, shaking her head. âYeah, but letâs worry about you, okay?â Her tone was light, but you could hear the tension underneath it, the unspoken fear.
You tried to answer, to reassure them, but exhaustion crashed over you like a tidal wave. Your body refused to fight anymore. The world around you tilted, the light dimming as your eyelids grew impossibly heavy.
The last thing you heard was Vi calling your name, Caitlyn tightening her grip.
Then, everything went black.
When you woke up, the scent of fresh linen and burning firewood filled your senses, a stark contrast to the battlefieldâs blood and smoke. The air was warm, wrapping around you like a thick blanket, and for the first time in weeks, you felt comfortânot the rough terrain beneath your body, not the cold steel of armor digging into your ribs, but actual comfort. The mattress was plush, the sheets smooth against your skin, and as you shifted slightly, you felt the dull, persistent ache of your broken ribs and the throbbing sting in your head.
Your eyes wandered, taking in the unfamiliar yet elegant surroundings. The room was spacious, finely decorated with heavy curtains, golden candle sconces, and an ornate mirror built into the wall beside you. It was only when you caught your own reflection that reality hit you.
You looked awful.
Scratches marred your skin, a deep gash slit through your eyebrow, and your bottom lip was swollen and split. The bruises painted across your body told stories of the battle you had foughtâof every punch, every fall, every blade that had nearly ended you. You sighed, looking away just as the door creaked open.
Jinx strolled in first, her signature smirk in place, followed by Vi, who stood with her arms crossed. Jinx plopped down at the edge of the bed dramatically, kicking her feet up.
âYour majesty,â she teased, grinning.
You exhaled a small laugh, shaking your head. âWhere are we?â
Vi leaned against the wall, her expression softer than usual. âA noble offered us this mansion to recover in. Itâs yours to use as a temporary home while your castle is being rebuilt.â
Your castle. The weight of it settled on you. Your homeâdestroyed, burned, reduced to rubble in the war you had just fought. It was a victory, but at what cost?
Your thoughts were interrupted by a sudden realization. âWhereâs Sevika?â you demanded, sitting up too quickly, pain flaring through your ribs.
Jinx hesitated, rubbing the back of her neck. âWhen I threw that bomb⊠she took a big hit. Honestly, the only thing that kept her from being completely torn apart was her mechanical arm. It blocked most of the impact. Sheâs pretty messed up, but sheâs alive. No limbs missing, if that helps.â
Your heart clenched, but you nodded. âItâs okay. Sheâs alive. Thatâs all that matters.â You met Jinxâs gaze, sincerity in your tone. âAnd you were just trying to protect me. I donât blame you.â
Jinx gave a small smile, though she still seemed tense.
âHelp me up,â you said, gripping the blanket as you prepared yourself for the pain of moving.
Vi immediately stepped forward, her strong hands wrapping around your arms, lifting you gently. You winced as you stood, your ribs protesting every movement, but you forced yourself forward.
The hallways were filled with peopleâsoldiers, townspeopleâsome familiar, some strangers, but all of them weary from battle. They whispered as you passed, nodding respectfully, their faces a mixture of relief and exhaustion.
Jinx led the way to a quiet room at the end of the hall, pushing open the door to reveal Sevika lying motionless on the bed.
A maid was tending to her, wiping down her face and arms with a damp cloth. Her mechanical arm rested beside her, slightly dented from the explosion. Despite the bruises and bandages covering her body, her breathing was steady, her chest rising and falling in a peaceful rhythm.
Vi helped you into a chair beside the bed before glancing at the others. âLetâs give them some time.â She signaled to Jinx and the maid, and without argument, they stepped out, closing the door behind them.
Silence settled over the room as you stared at Sevika.
She looked different like thisâvulnerable, quiet, no scowl or sharp glare on her face. Just stillness. You reached out, hesitating for a moment before running your fingers through her dark, tangled hair.
âMy love,â you whispered.
You leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead before resting yours against hers. The warmth of her skin grounded you, reminded you that she was still here, still breathing, still fighting.
âWake up soon,â you murmured, your fingers brushing through her hair. âI need you.â
You closed your eyes, letting yourself get lost in the moment, in the sound of her soft breaths, in the quiet reassurance that despite everythingâyou both survived.
(Usual warnings guys yandere behavior betrayal and mass murder REQUESTS ARE ALWAYS OPEN, and this is a bit like my other yandere King story)
You were the ruler of a strong kingdom you were admired by all due to your wisdom and independence there weren't many other Kingdoms ruled by a woman without a husband, so you were made famous for this, but you constantly got marriage proposals from Princes Dukes and Kings of many Kingdoms, but you refused each one which only made them desire you more and the proposals kept on coming but there was one man who you thought was different he was the King of a nearby Kingdom that you had an alliance with.