her majesty the queen has stepped out of the castle to meet with the commoners

Concubine: Yoongi (Royalty Series Part 1 of 7) [M]

Originally posted by bwiseoks


Warning: King Yoongi. LONG ASS BACKSTORY!! Mentions of violence. Adultery?? Possessive/Dominant Yoongi. Slut-shaming?(from citizens + the ‘Queen’) Light degradation (from Yoongi) Choking. Spanking. Also you’ll probably find the ending surprising. There’s a lot of old English insults as well so here’s a small glossary kind of. (Words in order by appearance)

  1. bedweaver: adulterer.
  2. yaldson: literally means ‘son of a prostitute’
  3. bobolyne: idiot / fool
  4. dalcop: dull-headed or hair brained
  5. gobermouch: nosy person / someone who always concerns themselves in the lives of others
  6. sorner: basically a moocher,


Is this a life to live? Forced to make appointments to see the man you love, constant ridicule from people you’ve never spoken to, shunned from society, disrespected in your ‘home’… How is this a life worth living?

You weren’t the first commoner to fall for the King. In fact, most girls your age swooned at the sight of him. His good looks and cold disposition made him a mystery, one that everyone wanted to unravel. No, you weren’t the first commoner to fall for the King, but you were the first one he loved back.

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The Queen is ill, and rumours circulate the castle, spreading like wildfire; some say she fell into the stream by accident, others say she was trying to commit suicide due to the loss of her son. Regina knows nothing of these rumours, having spent the past hours tossing in bed, sometimes thrashing violently, within the grasp of a burning fever. She knows only the excruciating sensation of being enclosed within Hades’ personal hell, surrounded by flames burning with the fury of a thousand suns.

She knows nothing of the chaos ensured when the search party arrived back at the castle in the early hours of dawn, both woman and child swaddled in blankets – her on the Prince’s steed and the boy on his father’s horse. She knows nothing of the worry that encased the Prince’s mind, the silent prayers he made on her behalf, when he held her against his chest, cold and pale in the moonlight. She knows nothing of the Princess’s lack of sleep and constant pacing, nor her demanding the physician to save her stepmother’s life. She knows even less of the pleas and whimpers fallen from her own lips while in the throes of her nightmares, of words that incited expressions of guilt and pity from those close enough to hear, looks that if she were conscious of them would make her cringe with discomfort.

When she wakes, she finds herself in her own chambers, the sound of running footsteps fading in her ears. The air is cool, soft rays falling across the room. Her throat is parched, but she can barely lift her head from the pillow, much less find water to quench her thirst. She exhales, trying to clear the remaining vestiges of sleep clouding her mind, when she remembers.

The forest. The stream. The little boy.

Footsteps echo in the corridor, more than one person this time. A man with a weathered face and colourless eyes lays a hand on her forehead. She inhales sharply and turns her head away, partly to break contact but more so to hide the spike of anxiety shooting through her at the unfamiliar touch.

“The Queen’s fever has broken,” the stranger says. His voice is curiously deep, as if it emerges from within the ground. “But she will need much rest to recover, as well as a sufficient diet, to build up her immune system. If it pleases Your Highness, I’ll have the prescription sent to the kitchen for preparation. They will have the necessary herbs to aid the Queen in her recovery.”

“That will do just fine, Eli. Thank you.”

The rest of the conversation fades out as sleep claims her once more. The next time she awakens, it is to a gentle shaking and a voice sounding suspiciously like Snow calling her name.

“Here, Regina, drink this. It’ll make you feel better.”

The herbal concoction is pungent and bitter, and threatens to make its way back up her throat. She shuts her eyes, fighting back the nausea. She will not suffer the embarrassment of a Queen who can’t even keep her medication down. When the wave of nausea passes, Snow helps her back down onto the bed. She lets out her breath in a sigh, exhaustion weighing her eyelids down. “Roland?” she manages, voice barely above a whisper.

“Fine, and bugging his father to go out to play.” She hears a smile in the princess’s voice. “I don’t know what you did or how you did it, Regina, but it’s like that little boy never fell into the water at all.”

Autumn is about to descend upon the Enchanted Forest. The trees on the verge of changing colours, and on the wind is the sweet scent of the blossoming flowers in the fall. After being cooped up in her chambers for more than a week, Regina wants nothing more than to venture out, even if it is but for a short walk outdoors, it is better than nothing, and so, she does, miraculously not bumping into anyone on her way there. Not that anyone would have prevented her from accomplishing her will.

Until she reaches the gardens, where she sees him.

The thief.

Irritation flares. She stiffens, pointedly ignoring him as she steps past him into the gardens.

“Will Your Majesty spare me a moment of her time?”

Not likely.


It is not his plea, but a sudden wave of light-headedness that gives her pause, causing her to sway on her feet. Blindly, she reaches out for something, anything, to keep from toppling over. When his hand grasps her arm, she wants nothing more than to shake it away, but finding a lack of strength to do so, she squeezes her eyes shut instead, willing herself to stay conscious. His fingers tighten on her arm, holding her up, and she finds herself grudgingly appreciative of his assistance. When she’s certain once more of her ability to stand on her feet, he steps away, allowing distance between them, and it isn’t right that such a simple act should evoke the mixture of conflicting emotions within her.

“What do you want?” she asks shortly as she attempts to regain her composure.

“I merely wish to thank you for saving Roland.”

She stares at him. “I didn’t do it for you.”

His eyes are the colour of Daniel’s, she realizes with a start. As soon as the thought comes to her, she drops her gaze. How absurd to be comparing a common thief to the man she loved.

“Perhaps it’s time you take better care of your child,” she adds, an edge to her voice.

He does not bother fending off her accusation, but nods instead, which surprises her. Snow mentioned that the thief had been out on patrol that day, leaving one of the Merry Men to watch over his son. Roland’s evading his caretaker hadn’t been the result of Robin’s lack of care, but of a child seeking his own will. She ought to know. After all, it wasn’t so long ago when Henry stole a credit card and ran away to Boston on his own.

Still, one doesn’t always manage to regain what one loses; the thief ought to learn that.

“The boy is all right?” she asks.

“Thankfully, yes. He suffered no ill side effects. He would like to thank you personally, if Your Majesty permits. He’s been asking to meet you, but we heard you were battling a fever. I promised him, perhaps, when you were feeling well enough, he could drop by to say thank you.” His lips twitch, threatening dimples. “He’s very excited.”

She cannot help the pleased curving of her mouth. She would not say no to seeing Roland again. She lifts her gaze to the thief, noticing how his eyes dip to linger at her smile, and a flush comes to her face. But she is a Queen, not some starry-eyed seventeen-year-old girl.

She turns away, hiding the redness of her cheeks. “Roland shall have what he wants,” she says, keeping her tone neutral as she sweeps past him. “I will see him at dinner tonight.”

Torches flicker on the walls, with a fire roaring in its usual place behind the Royals’ table. Voices amplified by the acoustics of the castle, echoing and pounding in her head. The Great Hall at suppertime is more than what she bargained for, though she can tell it pleases the Charmings that she is eating with them instead of holing up in her room. Were it not for Roland, she would most certainly be back in her chambers instead of putting herself through suffering another public appearance.

“Regina, you’re not eating.”

Yet another reason to have dinner brought to her chambers. She would have her meal – or in this case, not have it – if not in peace, then at least in blissful silence.

“Enough with the mothering, Snow,” she says, reaching for her goblet of wine. “Last time I checked, it’s still my body, and free will does exist in the Enchanted Forest.”

A crease forms between Snow’s brows. “We’re only concerned about you. You’ve barely had anything to eat at breakfast, you didn’t show up at all for lunch and weren’t in your chambers when we went looking for you. Thank goodness Robin had the good sense to—”

Regina grinds her teeth, irate. “The thief. Of course he would go running to you the moment he found out where I was. Dull-witted peasant.”

“Hardly. You fell into a stream and nearly drowned, Regina. You were delirious for nearly 48 hours and bed-ridden for almost a week. Did you think we wouldn’t panic when you went missing?”

“I didn’t fall in,“ she corrects. "I jumped in.” As if realizing she’s made it sound worse, she straightens, adding loftily, “To save his son.”

“Regardless, we just want you safe.”

"I’m perfectly capable of protecting myself, thank you very much.”

“Recent events prove otherwise,” David mumbles from his seat, and she glares at him. He opens his mouth as if to defend himself when Snow places a well-aimed nudge in his side, and he stays silent, shoving a spoonful of potato and meat stew into his mouth.

“Point is,” Snow continues as if her husband hadn’t so rudely interrupted. “You’re part of our family, Regina. We care for you, and all we want for you is—” she pauses. “Is to be happy.”

“Snow, if you are about to let loose with another one of your hope speeches again, I swear to God—”

“Your M’jesty?”

The conversation comes to a halt. There, with his mop of curls barely showing above the table, stands Roland in his brown tunic and pants tucked into his boots, a bunch of flowers in his hands as he shifts nervously from one foot to another.

“Roland,” Snow greets with an encouraging smile. “How are you today?”

“Very well, Your Highness,” the boy replies with a form of a bow, which is more of a stiff dip of his head, an unusual, but somewhat humorous gesture coming from a four-year-old. As David chuckles out loud, Roland blinks at the Prince, eyes darting from the blond-headed royal to the ladies. “F-for Your M’jesty,” he says, stuttering slightly, stretching out his arms in the direction of Regina as he presents his collection of wildflowers. “Thank you for saving me. I am forever in-indeb-indebt—” he pauses, frowning.

“Indebted?” Snow offers, a twinkle in her eyes.

The little boy smiles with relief. “Yes,” he says with another half-bow. “Thank you.” He glances up, an expression of stunned awe and pleasure crossing his face as Regina takes the colourful bouquet from him.

“Looks like the Queen has just gained herself a little knight,” David remarks once the three of them are alone again at their table. He nods in the direction of the Merry Men’s table, where Roland had returned only a few seconds ago. Now back in his father’s embrace, the boy is stiff and formal no longer. He wraps his arms around his father’s neck, his shy gaze on Regina, and when his mouth curves up, she can’t help the responding smile that spreads across her face.

the walls have ears

word count: 1,858 words
prompt: "rumor has it that her majesty queen lily has clandestine meetings with one of the serving boys - the one with dark unruly hair and glasses i think - in one of the castle broom cabinets BUT YOU DIDN’T HEAR IT FROM ME (from unofficialbridge)“ (from the prompt list here xx)
notes: i’m gonna unofficially call this "xoxo gossip lady” tbh oops. i decided to try out a different pov than what i’m used to so i hope i did this prompt justice!! for jily royalty fest!!

There is a saying that the walls have ears and Lily Evans is quite aware of that. However, sometime between being crowned queen and enduring some very notorious rumors one of which accused one of her serving boys of transforming into a wolf once a month (which Lily strongly suspects may have just been a very badly worded sexual euphemism), she’s learned to stop caring about such things. Boredom was common among the inhabitants of the castle and whenever anything vaguely unusual happens, the people tend to latch on to it for months and months afterwards. So she chooses to dismiss those rumors in wake of much more important tasks.

Perhaps she should have adhered to that saying for, at this castle especially, the walls really do have ears and the servants and staff are privy to much more than Her Majesty Queen Lily Evans the First is totally aware of.

Take the East Wing, for instance. A certain baby-faced servant boy (whom some suspect enjoys the royal kitchen’s leftovers a bit too much) tends to run in and out of the East Wing daily. If one were to pause for just a moment beside the old bust of the late King Merlin and take three (long) steps down the hallway at the right, then one could witness quite a sight. Just alongside those beautifully framed, vintage paintings of generations upon generations of her majesty’s ancestors, within the well-hidden nook just behind the crimson and gold tapestry, one could find two bodies entangled in each other. A couple hidden in the shadows, their soft murmurs and muffled giggles occasionally interrupting the otherwise silent East Wing. 

This is our mysterious, notorious couple of course. The couple with a hundred and one embellished tales following their every move.

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Title: The Winter Gala (½)

Rating: Mature

Thanks to scheherezade06, zengoalie and babysupernatural for reading this through and encouraging me to post it!


Lights glittered from every possible surface with large sections of rich white fabric artistically draped from corner to corner. The realm’s annual Winter Solstice ball was in full swing.  King David and Queen Snow sat in their white thrones, observing the festivities with full smiles on their faces, hands interlocked. David said that Snow always planned for this ball more than any of the others combined, she always replied that winter magic was special and she more than anyone appreciated decent “Snow White” jokes.  

Next to the King and Queen, stood Princess Emma. 

No amount of princess training could disguise her total utter look of boredom. At twenty years old, she was a seasoned veteran of the annual winter gala. Every single gala was exactly the same, a horde of unbearable suitors would try to pathetically woo her, she would sassily shoot them down and attempt go off on her merry way before her mother forced her back into the grand ballroom. 

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They lived...

Klaroline + Ever After: A Cinderella Story for Infusion/Crossover Day.

Caroline sat beside her parents, waiting for Baron Mikaelson and his wife to enter the throne room with their sons. Everything had been put into place, plans all playing out just as she’d wanted. She still couldn’t quite believe that her parents had agreed to all of this, that they were willing to go along with her scheming. But they did truly love her and wanted the best for her and neither of them appreciated the way the Baron had tried to manipulate the kingdom to his benefit.

Watching that man fall down a few pegs was going to be satisfying.

She sat a little taller, hands folded perfectly in her lap as the Mikaelsons were announced and watched as the group entered the room. An air of smugness was wrapped around them, one that seemed to be perpetually engulfing them wherever they went. Looking at the others in the court as if they were lesser than them, heads held just a little too high as they approached the thrones and did the customary bows.

“Baron,” her mother started, and Caroline watched as he looked up expectantly at her. So many hopes and dreams were written on his face, all of them tinged with greed and a hunger for power that would be his downfall. “Did you or did you not lie to his Majesty the King of France?”

Caroline couldn’t help but smirk as she watched Mikael’s expression falter, a flicker of doubt and fear registering in his eyes as he tried to hurriedly come up with an excuse. Elijah swallowed hard behind him, realizing that he had a hand in that lie as well, while Kol grinned at her as he rose from his bow.

“Choose your words wisely, sir,” the king added, and Mikael’s gaze flicked over to him. “They very well may be your last.”

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A Charming Visitor

Lieutenant Duckling AU drabble/one-shot, inspired by (x). Curse never happened, Emma grew up in the EF with her parents.

Emma is 17, Killian is 20.

Queen Snow White was relaxing in her royal chambers, practicing her knitting as she waited for the arrival of her daughter. Her handmaidens entered the room, bowing in her presence.

“Your Majesty, Princess Emma is here.” The young princess entered and bowed to the queen as custom required. Snow set down her knitting supplies and rose to greet her.

“My daughter,” she said, motioning to a chair next to her own, “if you please.” Emma graciously took the seat and waited for her mother to speak.

“I have received a letter from King Charles of the Southern Isles. His third son, Duke Killian, has expressed interest in coming to the Enchanted Forest to court to you.” Emma’s eyes widened slightly at her mother’s words.

“Why would he be interested in me?”

“According to the King, he has heard many things about you. Many good things.”

“How am I to know he is to be trusted? If he is third in line, as you say, he could be after my crown.”

Snow smiled knowingly at her daughter. The Enchanted Forest had always had good relations with the Southern Isles; their royal family members were considered trusted allies.  In fact, David and Charles were old friends, and Snow knew that Charles would raise all his sons to be honest and trustworthy young men. But Emma had always been the type to hide her feelings, so it was obvious that this was merely an attempt to cover up her growing excitement at the prospect of a suitor.

“I have met him before; he is charming and very good looking. I think you might like him a little. What shall I tell him?”

“Tell him… tell him he may come if he pleases and if the King wishes, but not to expect anything.” The princess kept up her ruse, pretending indifference at the topic, though she could not stop her voice from stuttering over the first words. The queen nodded happily and as Emma took her leave, Snow ordered her handmaidens to send word at once to King Charles that his son may come at his earliest convenience.

There was nothing to be done until he arrived, but every night of the following week, Emma went to bed dreaming of the Southern Isles, of white sails and crashing waves on the shoreline and perhaps, even, of a dashing young Duke.

Princess Emma walked through the halls of the palace with her handmaidens to meet a visiting friend named Ariel, the queen of a small coastal kingdom not far from the Enchanted Forest. It was custom for anyone below her rank to stand as she walked by them, so she did not blink when she passed through the dining hall and everyone stood, but she was taken aback when one dark-haired man stood and walked directly in front of the princess, bowing and taking off his hat.

“Sir?” she asked, confused as to why a stranger would break custom and address her so. But as his face lifted and his eyes meet hers, a small gasp escaped her lips at the piercing blue color.

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One year of Red!

Holy fuck! It’s been an entire year since I started posting my first fanfiction Red!

I’m amazed and so thrilled and so happy and feel like I’ve grown so much as a person having started to write this piece. I would like to say thank you so much to all the people who read the story, to all the people who have reviewed, sent me PMs, messages and questions, to all the people who have favorited and followed it, your encouragement and freak outs and lovely words have boosted me to writing a better Red everyday, so THANK YOU!

I also could not leave without thanking my wonderful friend Zoe mysterious-song who encouraged me to write my own thing and until this day has helped me so much with this story. Also a huge shout out to Emily lillie-grey, Bea repellomuggletum15 and Jess outlawqueenluvr who have also helped me oh so very much with this piece, thank you ladies, without you all, none of it would have happened :)

Now, without further ado, I have a gift and unfortunately it is not chapter 17, it’s almost ready, but not ready yet, so hold your horses. I wanted to post the chapter today but my life has turned upside down and only now am I coming back to writing. 

So this is a HUGE sneak peek of the first scene of chapter 17, I hope you guys enjoy it!

And remember ;)

Regina was so angry her magic was practically spilling from her fingers as she made her way towards the thief’s chambers. She could have poofed herself there, but at that moment, her magic was slightly out of control due to the overwhelming amount of feeling she was bearing. When she finally got to his door, however, it bore the brunt of all that bottled up rage. 

It flew, it simply flew and Regina didn’t give two shits about what it actually hit, if it was him, at this point, even better. 

“Tell the Queen she can fuck herself today.” 

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White Light on a Black Sea: Chapter XXV

So, I figured I’d try posting this chapter on Tumblr, for those who prefer to read it this way. If you want it on ff.net, the new chapter is here. If you haven’t been folling this story and want to start from the very beginning, it’s here.

Thanks for being patient while i was sick!  Enjoy!


The late afternoon sun glittered on the water as her ship rounded a final turn, bringing her destination into view. She had thought of it as a prison, so when King John’s startlingly beautiful castle finally appeared, she could scarcely believe that the elegant palace perched on a cliff was the home she’d been dreading. Far from the dark twisted fortress of her nightmares, its walls sparkled like a pearl above the clear azure sea.

Once docked, she was escorted to a royal carriage for travel to the castle. The harbor was filled with dozens of tall ships, from gigantic Man o Wars to maneuverable clippers, all of which she knew to be but a fraction of the king’s navy. As the horses drew her into the city proper, it became startlingly clear that two decades of war had taken their toll on the coastal nation. Constantly looking to expand his influence, John had apparently bled the common people dry to outfit his military, and it showed with just a glance at her surroundings.

The fountain in the main square was dry, and the children who played in it went quiet as the carriage pulled near. The outdoor market sold staples such as bread and fish, but lacked any more extravagant goods that indicated people had spending money for the finer things. Much like the fountain, the rough brick buildings and cobbled streets suffered from obvious neglect. She could only begin to imagine the living conditions, and Emma knew that her first acts as queen would be to reduce the suffering of the common people. Just one of her jeweled necklaces could feed the better part of a neighborhood for a year, and her parents had always made sure their people were cared for before indulging in frivolous things. John may not have the same set of values, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t find ways to help. The people of both Sylvania and Leinster were counting on her, and she would not let them down.

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