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#how much they strove to be like him and now here they are

dee-writes-smut · 10 hours

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DAFFODILS (Chapter One)

FEATURING Eris Vanserra x pregnant!reader

SUMMARY The Spring Court has gone to shit, and while you would normally be able to tolerate it, the new discovery that you were pregnant pushes you to the gates of The Autumn Court and unknowingly into Eris' arms.

CONTENT WARNINGS pregnancy, Eris being a slight douche (you know how it is yall), violence (reader is kicked in the stomach), and mentions of Tampon (Tamlin).

AUTHORS NOTE who's excited for the kick-off of yet another series? I am! Of course, I had to start an Eris series, I love him too much not to! Strap in, darlings, I have a feeling this is going to be a long one.

The once vibrant Spring court had gone to shit, a shadow of its former glory. Tamlin, the once revered and compassionate High Lord, had vanished, abandoning his people to suffer in the decay his negligence had allowed to fester.

Amid the desolation, there were attempts to salvage what remained of the Spring Court. Lucien's name surfaced as one who strove to preserve our home. I recall his desperate sacrifice on Calanmai, offering himself to Ianthe in a futile bid to rescue us. He still occasionally visits, perhaps clinging to a hope that he might stumble upon signs of revival, our High Lord restored to his former benevolence. Yet each return only reinforces the stark reality of our decline, leaving him unsurprised by the sight of our dwindling realm.

And now, here I stand, just beyond the borders of the Autumn Court, clad in nothing but the ragged remnants of my escape, imploring the impassive sentries to grant me sanctuary within their walls. They offer no response, their stoic countenances unmoved as I plead and weep at their feet.

In my disheveled state, I must present a pitiful sight—my attire threadbare and stained, my once-glamorous countenance marred by streaks of dirt and smudged cosmetics, my limbs adorned with bruises like macabre adornments.

As I teeter on the brink of desperation, a voice cuts through the stillness, emerging from the depths of the forest to my right. The guards snap to attention at its sound, their posture stiffening even further, if such a thing were possible, in deference to its commanding presence.

"What is the meaning of this?" The voice, smooth as silk and sharp as a blade, belonged to a man with cascading locks of fiery hair, who strode forth from the underbrush with an air of regal authority.

Gods, he was a vision to behold. Despite the earthy stains marring his attire and the tousled state of his tunic sleeves, he exuded an otherworldly allure.

"A mere denizen of the Spring Court, attempting to beg her way into our domain, my lord," one of the guards grumbled, offering a curt bow before callously nudging me aside with his boot. I winced as the blow landed squarely in my stomach.

"And what, pray tell, do you think you are doing, you imbecile!" The fiery-haired man's voice dripped with disdain as he strode forward, confronting the offending guard with palpable fury. "Can you not discern her condition, you fool? She carries life within her."

My heart lurched as I instinctively cradled my abdomen, a protective gesture born of maternal instinct. Though every fiber of my being yearned to retaliate against the guard's callousness, I forced myself to breathe deeply, refusing to succumb to the animalistic urges that society expected of Spring Court members in these desperate times.

"Are you alright?" the man inquired, his amber eyes ablaze with a captivating mix of concern and authority, their gaze so intense that it stole the very air from my lungs.

"I'm… I'm fine," I managed to utter, brushing aside the tangled strands of hair obscuring my face and inhaling deeply to steady my frayed nerves.

"I must apologize for the behavior of my soldier. Rest assured, appropriate measures will be taken, my lady," the man assured me, his smile radiant as he inclined his head with graceful deference. His charm nearly brought a wry laugh to my lips.

"No need for such formalities," I replied weakly, the weight of my displaced status as a refugee gnawing at my throat like a persistent ache. But I steeled myself with the thought of my unborn child, a beacon of hope amidst the chaos. "I am no longer a lady—well, not in the traditional sense, anyway."

"How so?" the man persisted, his expression a blend of curiosity and genuine concern, prompting me to draw my arms tighter around myself.

"I find it quite audacious for someone whose name I don't even know to ask such personal questions," I retorted, feigning a hint of indignation that rang hollow even to my own ears.

"Fair point," he conceded with a charming grin, though his adherence to formality still grated on my nerves. "Allow me to rectify that oversight. My name is Eris. Eris Vanserra, Heir to the Autumn Court," he declared, and I felt a strange mixture of relief and weariness wash over me at his introduction.

Eris. Lucien had spoken sparingly of his older brother during his time in the Spring Court, but whenever he did, a profound sense of affection tinged with melancholy colored his words. I shook myself from my reverie, extending a hand in a gesture of polite acknowledgement as I reciprocated with my own name. Eris repeated my name softly, testing it on his tongue, and my heart twinged at the striking resemblance in mannerism between him and Lucien, one so distant yet familiar, the other painfully close.

"Now," Eris began, his hands making a smooth, sweeping gesture that hinted at his readiness to delve deeper into the matter at hand, "what brings you to the borders of the Autumn Court, my lady?"

"The Spring Court is…" My voice faltered, and I let out a weary sigh, my hand instinctively resting on my still-flat stomach for comfort.

"It's gone to shit," he finished for me, his smirk sharp but not unkind.

"Well, I wouldn't have phrased it quite so bluntly, but yes," I responded, my fingers tracing small circles over my abdomen. "That place and its ruler are no fit environment for a child. Considering the proximity of your court, I was hoping I might find a new beginning here."

"What about the father?" Eris inquired, one eyebrow—a mirror image of Lucien's—arching skeptically.

I clear my throat awkwardly and look at my well-worn shoes. How does one tell the Heir to the Autumn Court that they are pregnant with his youngest brother's babe? How does one also explain how he is mated to another female, that they knew as soon as that brother found out about said babe, he would give up all hope to find his true mate in order to be there for his child?

"Not in the picture," I manage to say, my voice faltering slightly as I reach up to scratch the back of my neck, a gesture betraying my discomfort.

Eris hums, a low, thoughtful sound that vibrates with suspicion, his striking eyes narrowing as he scrutinizes my uneasy demeanor. The weight of his gaze feels like it could peel back the layers of my hastily constructed defenses, compelling me to confront truths I'd rather leave unspoken. Eris's scrutinizing gaze doesn't waver, and the silence stretches taut between us like a bowstring. "Not in the picture," he echoes thoughtfully, each word heavy with the promise of unasked questions.

I nod, feeling the weight of the moment settling around us. The air in the forest seems to hold its breath, the usual whispers of leaves and distant calls of woodland creatures falling into a hushed reverence. "And you must understand, my lord, that my child is my utmost priority," I assert with unwavering resolve, emphasizing his title with a hint of disdain, as if challenging the very foundations of our unequal stations.

The guards stationed behind me draw in sharp, anticipatory breaths, seemingly prepared for their lord to mete out swift retribution for my boldness. I steel myself against the expected blow, a silent rehearsal of defiance.

Yet, the expected strike does not materialize. Instead, Eris regards me with what could only be described as admiration. His gaze, intense and calculating, appraises me not as a threat, but as a formidable presence in my own right.

"Well, little fox," he begins, his voice carrying a playful undertone that belies the depth of his contemplation. He strokes his chin thoughtfully, his fingers tracing the lines of his jaw as if to physically underline his ponderings. "It appears you've presented quite the compelling argument for yourself here."

The use of "little fox" — a term perhaps meant to denote cunning and resilience — sparks a flicker of amusement within me, mixed with a surge of cautious optimism. His demeanor suggests a blend of challenge and respect, hinting at a dynamic that could evolve beyond mere formalities or supplications. This man before me is not just the heir to a court; he is a strategist weighing his next move.

"You seek shelter for yourself and the babe?" Eris inquires with a hint of slyness, as if to subtly test my resolve, though it's a point I've already made abundantly clear.

"Indeed," I retort sharply, refusing to waver under the weight of his penetrating gaze.

"Then shelter you shall have," he declares, pivoting on his heel to fix the guards with a stern glare. "You will allow her passage," he commands, his tone uncompromising. The guards, obedient to their lord's decree, quickly acquiesce, parting to allow me entry with a mere flick of Eris's wrist.

The heady scent of spices and autumnal freshness assaults my senses as I approach the threshold, beckoning me forward with its tantalizing allure. It's as if the very essence of this court implores me to embrace my true purpose, to seize control of my destiny without hesitation. The boldness of it all catches me off guard, stirring a sense of rebellion that courses through my veins like wildfire.

Pausing at the threshold, I find myself suspended between the tranquility of the wilderness behind me and the vibrant chaos of the court ahead. I hesitate, grappling with the weight of the choices that lie before me.

Eris slows his stride beside me, as if attuned to my uncertainty, and extends his arm—an offering both courteous and suggestive. His demeanor exudes confidence and assurance, as if he expects me to surrender to his lead without question.

But I refuse to yield to the expectations of courtly decorum. Chin held high, I meet his gaze with unwavering resolve, ignoring the disheveled state of my attire as I assert my independence. My feet remain firmly planted, refusing to advance until I am ready, on my own terms.

Eris's arm lingers in the air for a moment, a flicker of surprise crossing his features at my defiance. His amber eyes search mine, silently probing, yet beneath the scrutiny, I detect a glimmer of curiosity and… respect.

"I am quite capable of managing on my own," I declare, my voice steady despite the storm of emotions raging within me.

His expression softens, and he nods, gracefully retracting his arm. "As you wish," he concedes, gesturing for me to take the lead as we finally step through the threshold together.

The walk through the streets of Autumn was like stepping into a painting come to life. The cobblestone pathways wound gracefully between quaint buildings adorned with intricate carvings and vibrant splashes of ivy. Overhead, colorful banners fluttered in the gentle breeze, their designs depicting scenes of seasonal splendor and courtly festivities.

Stands and stalls lined the streets, each one a miniature wonderland of treasures waiting to be discovered. From intricately woven tapestries to gleaming trinkets and baubles, the offerings were as diverse as they were captivating. Merchants called out to passersby in melodious voices, their wares displayed with care and pride.

The smells that wafted through the air were a symphony of sensory delights. Spices mingled with the scent of freshly baked bread, their fragrances intermingling in a tantalizing dance that made my mouth water. Roasted chestnuts crackled and popped over open fires, their warm, nutty aroma floating on the breeze alongside the sweet perfume of ripe fruit and fragrant flowers.

Eris's sudden change in direction pulled me from my reverie, my gaze following his lead as we approached a magnificent structure nestled within the heart of the Autumn Court. The Forest House loomed before us, its grandeur and mystique commanding attention as we drew nearer.

Surrounded by a wrought iron gate, the house stood as a bastion of elegance amidst the bustling streets. Tall trees swayed gently in the breeze, their branches reaching out to embrace the ancient structure with a sense of reverence. Vines climbed the walls, their verdant tendrils weaving intricate patterns against the weathered stone.

The sight of the Forest House sent a shiver down my spine, a visceral reaction to the aura of power and mystery that seemed to emanate from its very core. It was as if the house held secrets untold, whispering tales of bygone days and forgotten legends to those who dared to listen.

"Wait!" I called out, the urgency in my voice halting Eris in his tracks. His steps faltered, and he turned to face me, a glint of amusement dancing in the depths of his eyes. The sunlight filtering through the canopy overhead cast dappled shadows across his features, lending an air of intrigue to his already enigmatic presence.

"Yes?" he inquired, his voice smooth and tinged with playful curiosity, his smirk hinting at secrets hidden just beneath the surface.

"What's going to happen to me? Where will I stay?" I blurted out, the fierce confidence I had summoned earlier dissipating like morning mist in the face of uncertainty. Nervously, I began to pick at my nails, the weight of the unknown pressing down upon me like a heavy cloak.

Eris regarded me with a knowing glint in his eyes, as if he had anticipated my question long before I had voiced it. "You will stay with me, of course," he replied simply, his voice carrying an air of nonchalance that belied the gravity of his words. There was a subtle confidence in his demeanor, a quiet assurance that spoke of his authority within the court.

I recoiled at his casual response, a surge of apprehension coursing through me. "But what about Beron? Won't he object to having a… a lowborn in his household?" I ventured cautiously, the weight of his father's disapproval looming like a specter in the back of my mind.

"Nonsense," Eris scoffed, his arms crossing over his chest in a dismissive gesture. "You are now a member of this court, and given your condition," he added with a subtle nod towards my abdomen, "it is only fitting that you reside in more suitable accommodations." His words were tinged with a hint of defiance, a silent challenge to anyone who would dare question his authority.

Despite his reassurances, doubt gnawed at the edges of my mind, uncertainty clouding my thoughts like a thick fog. "Absolutely not!" I protested vehemently, a surge of protectiveness coursing through me as I instinctively placed a hand over my stomach, as if to shield my unborn child from the absurdity of Eris's suggestion. "I refuse to stay in your chambers, Eris. It's… it's utterly preposterous."

Eris's eyebrow lifted slightly, his gaze holding a hint of amusement mixed with something darker. "Stubborn, aren't we?" he remarked, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips. "But if you prefer to sleep on the streets, far be it from me to stand in your way."

His words, though seemingly casual, carried a sharp edge that hinted at the depth of his cunning. It was a subtle reminder of his position of power, a reminder that I was at his mercy whether I liked it or not.

I bristled at his thinly veiled threat, my jaw clenching as I met his gaze with a glare of my own. "You wouldn't dare," I challenged, though a flicker of uncertainty danced behind my eyes.

Eris's smirk widened, the glint in his amber eyes turning predatory. "Try me," he replied, his tone dripping with promise and menace in equal measure.

With a frustrated huff, I reluctantly relented, realizing that I was in no position to defy him. "Fine," I conceded through gritted teeth, my hand slipping from my stomach to clench into a fist at my side. "But don't expect me to thank you for it."

Eris's smirk softened into a smirk, his gaze lingering on me with an intensity that sent a shiver down my spine. "Who said anything about gratitude?" he mused, his voice low and husky. "I'm merely extending a courtesy to a fellow refugee."

His words were laced with sarcasm, a reminder that his generosity came with strings attached. It was a stark contrast to the charming facade he wore, a glimpse of the ruthlessness that lay beneath.

I swallowed hard, a bitter taste rising in the back of my throat as I followed him towards the Forest House. It was clear that my time in the Autumn Court would be far from easy, but as I glanced back at the crumbling ruins of the Spring Court behind me, I knew that I had no other choice.

As we reached the grand doors of the Forest House, Eris turned to me with a smirk. "Welcome to your new home, little fox," he remarked, his tone dripping with irony. "Try not to get too comfortable."

My brows furrowed at his words, suspicion creeping into my mind. "What's the catch?" I asked warily, narrowing my eyes at him.

Eris chuckled, the sound sending a shiver down my spine. "Though I do have one condition," he said, his smirk widening into a grin.

"And what is that?" I asked, a sinking feeling settling in the pit of my stomach.

"You must walk with me once a day for the duration of your stay," Eris declared, his tone teasing yet firm.

My jaw dropped in disbelief. "You're joking," I exclaimed, disbelief evident in my voice.

Eris's grin widened, his amber eyes dancing with amusement. "Do I look like I'm joking?" he retorted, his tone challenging.

I narrowed my eyes at him, a surge of defiance rising within me. "This is ridiculous," I protested, shaking my head in disbelief. "I won't be your captive audience."

Eris's expression softened, a hint of something unfamiliar flickering in his eyes. "It's not about being captive," he said softly, his voice uncharacteristically gentle. "Consider it… a chance to explore the court, to clear your mind. Besides," he added with a smirk, "I could use the company."

I bristled at his suggestion, my pride warring with my better judgment. "And if I refuse?" I challenged, crossing my arms over my chest.

Eris's smirk widened, a glint of mischief in his eyes. "Then you'll miss out on some truly breathtaking views," he replied, his tone teasing yet earnest.

I sighed in frustration, realizing that I was fighting a losing battle. "Fine," I relented, though the words tasted like ash on my tongue. "But don't expect me to enjoy it."

Eris's grin widened into a smirk, his eyes alight with amusement. "Oh, I have a feeling you'll come to enjoy it more than you think," he remarked cryptically, before turning to lead the way into the Forest House.

As Eris escorted me to the grand Forest House, his steps were measured, exuding an air of regal confidence that was unmistakably his. His fiery locks seemed to dance with each movement, and his amber eyes held a glint of mischief, hinting at the cunning that lay beneath his charming exterior.

Upon entering my chambers, Eris's gaze swept over the room with a critical eye, a subtle smirk playing at the corners of his lips. "I trust the accommodations meet with your approval, my lady?" he inquired, his voice smooth as honey but tinged with a hint of sarcasm.

I nodded, unable to suppress a smirk of my own at his thinly veiled jest. "They're quite lovely, thank you," I replied, matching his playful tone with one of my own.

Eris's smirk widened into a grin, his amusement evident in the curve of his lips. "Excellent," he remarked, his gaze lingering on me for a moment longer than strictly necessary before turning away to survey the room once more.

As I explored my new surroundings, I couldn't help but notice Eris's watchful gaze following my every move. It was as if he were sizing me up, gauging my reactions to the opulence that surrounded us. I couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to him than met the eye, a depth of character hidden behind his charming facade.

Spotting the single daffodil on the table near the window, I couldn't suppress a chuckle at the sight. It was a quintessentially Eris gesture—playful yet meaningful, a subtle reminder of our earlier exchange. I picked up the note beside it, the elegant script a testament to Eris's attention to detail.

"I will be seeing you real soon, little fox. Wouldn't want you slacking off on our daily walks now, would we?" the note read, the teasing tone perfectly in line with Eris's mischievous nature. I couldn't help but smile at his audacity, the unspoken challenge sparking a flicker of excitement within me.

Setting the note back down, I turned to find Eris watching me with a knowing smirk, his amber eyes alight with amusement. "I take it you approve of my choice of decor?" he quipped, the smirk widening into a grin as he met my gaze.

I rolled my eyes playfully, unable to suppress a laugh at his antics. "It's certainly… unique," I replied, the hint of sarcasm in my tone mirroring his own.

Eris chuckled softly, a sound that sent shivers down my spine. "I'm glad to hear it," he replied, his gaze lingering on me for a moment longer than strictly necessary before turning away to hide the flush that crept across his cheeks.

TAGLIST

@purple-writer8 @defnotlucienvanserra @cherry-cin @julesofvolterra @mirandasidefics @mandziaaa @lilah-asteria @littlestw01f @skylarkalchemist

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oldworldghost · 7 months

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Are requests still open? If yes could we maybe see a jealous P please? Like he’s learning his emotions and he learns he doesn’t like jealousy or something

Jealous Pinocchio! ☆

↳ Hello nonnie! Requests are indeed still open, and I love jealousy prompts >:3 also sorry to everyone who has sent in a request that I haven't answered yet, I have been sick and busy, well, playing the game </3 Under the cut because this is a long boy

➸ Okay so jealousy with Pinocchio obviously depends, much like you said, on how human he is; how much he knows about not only his own emotions, but emotions in general. It's because of this that, at first, there really isn't a lot of instances of jealousy on his part, and what instances there may be are not going to be immediately recognisable as such. And of course this is due to the fact that Pinocchio just doesn’t have a good grasp on his own emotions initially; he knows he’s feeling something and that that something is almost unpleasant, he just doesn’t know what to do with it or even what to call it.

➸ The main way jealousy at first manifests with Pinocchio is a little off putting, almost. You could probably mistake it for a sort of increased protectiveness; when he sees you talking to someone he stands close, glares at the other person or just watches like a hawk for the duration of the conversation. He doesn’t say anything or really do anything and it gets a little creepy. Don’t get me wrong, Pinocchio doesn’t mean it in a bad way whatsoever – he just wants your attention – but to everyone else it looks like he’s waiting for whoever you’re talking to to suddenly attack or something. It’s his eyes that do it, they’re so dead that is just doesn’t inspire any form of ease when it happens. Luckily, these instances are rare and fairly easy to handle. Just give him your attention and he’ll relax. And of course, as he grows this habit of his simmers down and changes.

➸ [Honestly though this could be so funny too because like, despite the fact that it’s both unnerving and rare I imagine that everyone would eventually end up catching on to what’s happening and god they have a field day with it. Especially Venigni. He doesn’t mean any harm but seeing Pinocchio look like he’s going to combust on the spot is a little bit funny. Do the rest help enable Venigni and this habit? Maybe, maybe. Eugénie is the main co-conspirator here.]

➸ As Pinocchio changes and becomes more human he settles into his feelings more, he learns and grows to not only feel them but process and identify them. And this, of course, goes for jealousy as well. Through both his own experiences and talking with humans Pinocchio is able to realise that yeah, he’s felt jealousy. That that's what that uncomfortable tightness was. However what is most interesting is that the more human Pinocchio becomes the more jealous he finds himself getting, and on a more regular basis. A part of this is because there is an increasing depth to his character and emotions, so naturally they grow more intense, but the more important part is the growing cause of his jealousy; that being his nature as both puppet and human.

➸ Now I do believe that Pinocchio never had an inherent desire to be human, and that it was something he strove to become because he believed that his father would want him as one, and because as a “special puppet” it would only make sense for him to try and change his nature. And so what Pinocchio was or should be never quite bothered him at first - more just filled him with a sense of confusion – but as he grows more human the more he genuinely wants to be one, and your relationship with him plays a major part in that and his jealousy. You see, Pinocchio wants humanity so he can truly love you, but it is this growing humanity and desire that places the weight of what he really is on him; a puppet and as such not enough.

➸ It is jealousy born of insecurity, the more he tries to change the more his faults become apparent to him. His perceived inability to emote, to understand; the disconnect between himself and you, the gap that Pinocchio wonders if he will ever be able to truly close. He is worried, very much so, about being replaced or cast aside, because if the choice came up between himself and someone fully human, well, why on earth would you chose him? This insecurity is only heightened post game, where – and of course spoilers – Pinocchio has been betrayed by his own father, the person he thought loved him despite his being a puppet. I don’t want to build it up too much, but being told you’re only there to be replaced and that you’re not enough by someone who you trusted has to leave its mark, especially when you share memories with the person you were supposed to be only to realise that they were never enough either. Like, yeah. Ouch!

➸ Of course as Pinocchios’ emotions grow so do the rest of his abilities, including being able to tell what he truly does vs doesn’t like feeling. He could always kind of do it, but now he is able to fully articulate the why of it, and jealousy has landed itself into the category of “I Do Not Like This”. Now that itself is fairly obvious, no one likes being jealous, but the main reason its there for Pinocchio is because it makes him feel bad, almost guilty. To him jealousy indicates a lack of trust in partners, but the kicker is that he does trust you. Despite everything that’s happened Pinocchio places his full trust and faith in you day after day, or at least he thinks he does, and on top of that even if you did end up finding someone better and/or leaving he would have no right to stop you. If you wanted to it would break Pinocchios heart, but he would let go because he would hate to try and control you; to force you into something you don’t want to be in. And so not only does his own jealousy make him feel bad but it confuses him greatly, because Pinocchio knows that he can’t control you and that he can trust you, so why does he still get that sinking feeling when he sees you with someone else? [It’s the unresolved issues, but you didn’t hear that from me]

➸ On a lighter note though, while Pinocchios jealousy is heightened and most frequent post-game it will naturally simmer out, much like how the whole protective-jealousy phase did. That is not to say that it is a fast process, naturally it is slow and time consuming - and that in part is due to simply how many things there are to do now that his father and Simon are dead - but with the support of yourself and a few makeshift therapy session with Gemini and Sophia [i.e. literally just talking about what he’s feeling], it ends up being something that he can handle a fair bit better than before. Still a slow process, but manageable [also PAUSE imagine Gemini on a table and Pinocchio laying on a couch like they’re actually in a therapists office with Sophia taking notes].

➸ Anyway yes, the main thing that helps is through talking to you. It gets to a point – and rather quickly at that – where Pinocchio finds that he just really needs to tell you what he’s feeling. He feels bad about it, of course, but I think what he really needs to be told at first is that it’s just natural. People get jealous even if they don’t want to or mean to and sure maybe not like he does, but that is something that can be worked on. Pinocchio needs support in his own ways and for his own things, even if he might not necessarily want to admit it, but luckily Pinocchio can also a very transparent lover, especially after becoming human.

➸Okay to drag this whole thing on let’s back peddle a teeny bit. How jealousy manifests at the heightened point actually shares similarities with how it initially manifested. However instead of coming off as protective it very obviously comes off as jealousy mixed with something akin to fear, for reasons already discussed. He also develops the habit of just quite literally pulling you away from whoever you’re talking to and taking you somewhere else. Pinocchio does this under the guise of “I’m human now so I want to spend as much time with you as I can to bask in it” but it is very obviously just Not That. Or more not fully that, anyway. It does retain a little bit of the humour it originally had, and yes there’s still a little bit of poking fun and riling him up [especially from Venigni] but that is rare, mainly because it’s kind of also just sad that he feels the need to do it after everything they’ve all been through together. And Pinocchio knows rationally that none of them are going to try and “steal” you off him, for lack of a better word, but that rational thinking just doesn’t help much here. However this is also not the only habit that develops, sometimes Pinocchio will simply avoid you for a little, a sort of self pitying isolation mainly because he doesn’t want you to see him upset or jealous. None of the hotels residents know which one is worse to witness, honestly it might be a tie.

➸ Okay so on an actual actual lighter note [and because we cannot be here all day], once both Pinocchios’ relationship with his humanity is better his jealousy becomes something fairly rare, much like at the start. And by that point Pinocchio has also come to terms with it too, it’s a part of him he can accept and make peace with. After this, a lot of instances of it are just kind of cute. Like I will be absolutely real with you he is playing it up to get your attention; you’re getting puppy dog eyes, pouting, and in private Pinocchio’s going to go on some very light hearted spiel about how you no longer love him, all “woe is me” on you. As a human Pinocchio has grown a rather mischievous and sassy yet still gentlemanly personality and it so fucking shows here. A lot of these instances of jealousy are caused by, you guessed it, Pinocchio not getting enough attention, which is a little funny because by this point he’s very able to be alone by himself for a while. The other instances are people just getting too close [i.e. Venigni and Eugénie] or things of that ilk.

#HELP NONNIE THIS ENDED UP OVER 1.7K I AM SO SORRY SJKKDZFHG #also I am thinking of writing some fucking uh #pinocchio or venigni kink hcs would anyone be interested in either of those #Of course this is all a lot more complex than I have made it out to be but you get the idea #I really don't want to make an analysis here so sdkfjhgsdhf #also if this isn't coherent just do not tell me #lies of p #lies of p x reader #pinocchio x reader #pinocchio #my writing

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skyloftian-nutcase · 11 months

Text

"Shouldn't he rest, though?"

"If he stays in bed too long, he'll only grow weaker."

Link turned his face away from the voices, eager to slip back into the peaceful inky black of slumber. His head was hurting too much for this.

"Wake up, little hero."

A hand shook him slightly, pushing his shoulder further into the comfortable mattress. The movement sent a spike of pain up his neck into his skull, further articulating the headache he was desperately trying to ignore. With an angry, sharp inhale, he opened his eyes.

When he turned to view the person in question, he remembered his situation.

Huffing, he rasped, "What do you want?"

"I don't need your attitude, kid," Nabooru quipped lightly. "This is for your own good. You need to get up, and you need to eat and drink."

Link came up with a few snarky responses but found he was too tired to argue the matter. He let her pull him into a seated position, and he shifted his feet to the edge of the bed hesitantly. The last time he'd tried this he'd nearly passed out. He wasn't even sure how long ago that had been at this point - the exhaustion finally seemed to have won out over his will to escape.

Did that make him pathetic or intelligent? Zelda had always pushed herself so hard and never seemed to stop. He should do better.

Gritting his teeth, the captain pushed himself to stand. Nabooru had steadying hands on him, helping him shakily take a few steps towards the door.

Alertness came to him an instant, alongside hope. He was moving! He could survey his situation better if he let her guide him outside, he could find a way to escape the Gerudo stronghold, perhaps even retrieve the Triforce that Ganondorf had stolen!

Air moved on his other side, the only hint he had of someone moving beside him before an unsettling face invaded his personal space.

"Oh, so the wretched Hero is up and about now?" Ghirahim purred, lips curling in an unsettling smile.

"You're in the way," Nabooru said flatly.

The demon lord huffed, straightening and crossing his arms. "Must you ruin the moment, woman? You don't understand how long I've waited for this."

"Your rivalry is with the spirit, not the child," Nabooru said firmly. "Leave him be."

Link blinked, confused. With the spirit?

Oh. The Spirit of the Hero. The same person Cia had fallen into an obsession with. The same person who Zelda looked to with hope and conviction and dedication. The person who was supposed to be him, the person he strove to be every day.

Why... why were they talking about it like it was someone else?

Link scoffed. "I'm not a child. I am the bearer of the Hero's Spirit. If it's a fight you want--"

The rest of the captain's statement was cut off with a yelp as Nabooru swatted at Ghirahim and dragged Link away. "That's enough of this nonsense. I took you out here to get fresh air, not pick a fight with the first idiot you find."

"Idiot?!" Ghirahim repeated, affronted, though he was left behind by the pair as Link was practically carried outside the compound.

It was evening outside, Link realized, making him feel all the more disoriented. How long had it been since his capture? How long had been asleep? It had certainly been brighter when he'd encountered Ganondorf.

As he was guided to sit in a pile of cushions, a waterskin placed into his hands, Link saw a group of Gerudo women dancing and laughing. Others were playing music, and a crowd was clapping along. On a raised platform sat their king, also enjoying the festivities, though much more solemnly than his warriors. Ganondorf's eyes flicked over to the captain a moment, studying him, and Link felt his skin crawl. He glared defiantly in return.

Ganondorf returned his attention elsewhere, and Link's brooding was interrupted when Nabooru snapped her fingers in his face.

"Drink," she ordered.

Reluctantly, Link complied. There was no point in not hydrating; he needed strength to find a way out of this place. After a few sips, his body suddenly registered just how utterly dehydrated he was, and he emptied it in a heartbeat.

Glancing to her left, Nabooru said, "Watch him."

Link looked to his right and saw another Gerudo warrior walk up beside him, sword drawn and held erect against the ground while her hands rested overtop the hilt.

"What do you people want from me?" he asked, his voice gaining some strength now that his throat wasn't quite so parched.

"I wanted to kill you," the woman grumbled, and Link recognized her as the last thing he saw before he was knocked out in battle. "But our king had other plans."

The captain once again glanced at the perpetrator of this entire mess, feeling himself shiver a little. What did such a monster want with him? He already had the Triforce, after all. Was Link needed for some kind of ritual?

Was he going to capture Zelda as well, then?

Wait... was Link bait?

He had to get out of here.

Nabooru returned quickly, a bowl of curry in her hands. She held it out to the captain, who hesitantly took it. The guard walked away silently.

"I don't suppose you can tell me why your king wants me alive," Link muttered, staring at the curry. He didn't really know how to feel about any of this at this point, except that he was most certainly on edge and wanted to get the hell away from here.

Nabooru watched him a moment, seeming to make a decision in her mind, and sat beside him to watch the dancers. The lively music didn't quite reach the cold atmosphere Link's dread generated, but the Gerudo woman at his side was a steady presence, somehow less intimidating than the others.

"You are the Hylian Hero," Nabooru said. "The Spirit of the Hero travels with you."

"I am the Hero," Link emphasized, feeling his ire rise. He had drawn the Master Sword, he had led troops into battle time and again, he bore the Triforce of Courage, and he was the one Zelda had chosen to wear the legendary garb.

"Our king is quite interested in you," Nabooru continued, ignoring his interruption. "I must confess, I didn't expect you to be so... young."

Rolling his eyes, Link looked away. "Many say that. Most don't live to regret it."

Nabooru laughed at that. "Spoken like a warrior filled with spirit and a thirst to prove himself. I admire your ability to fight, child. Don't doubt that. I started fighting around your age too. But don't forget your place. You are still young, and you know very little of the world outside of a battlefield."

"Am I going to learn about wartime strategy and politics here, then?" Link prodded, glancing back at her. "Am I being held hostage as a bartering chip?"

"My understanding of it is that you're being held to keep you safe," Nabooru answered unexpectedly, looking him in the eye with a seriousness he wasn't expecting. "But only the king knows his own plans. I just happen to be the leader of the Gerudo."

"I thought the king was?"

"He wasn't here until a few weeks ago," Nabooru replied, looking away. "Our people were mostly wiped out by Hyrule."

Link felt his throat go dry, and he had no words to say while simultaneously having so many in his mind.

What did she mean that Hyrule had wiped out the Gerudo? Had they attacked Hyrule in the past? A war between the Gerudo and Hyrule could explain why Link barely knew of their existence, and why that other guard wanted him dead. But what about the other statement, about keeping him safe? What kind of nonsense was that?

Ganondorf needed him for something, clearly. He needed him, and he knew Link was too powerful a soldier to keep in play in the war. He was crippling the Hyrulean army and preventing Link from dying so he could utilize him for something.

This had to do with the Triforce, didn't it? Link knew so little of the artifact, except for its origin story.

He wished Lana was here to explain the situation. He'd even take Impa.

Sighing, Link stared at his curry, his stomach growling but his appetite disappearing as his musings clouded his mind.

#writing #good ganondorf #hyrule warriors link #hw link #nabooru #ghirahim #hyrule warriors ganondorf #hw ganondorf #hyrule warriors #legend of zelda

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merao-mariposa · 26 days

Text

Who will you call?

When the end draws near who are you going to call?

The sky is burning and there is nothing to fight for, nothing to fight against because your opponent is invincible, the fear of death swallows you alive but its march is inexorable and you know in your heart that it is all, suddenly your life passes in front of your eyes and you call a name, what is it?

Chayanne!

The little warrior have fought well but it is all for, only at the end can he feel his heart tighten, have he failed? Again? This can't end here he don't want it to end here and suddenly he calls his papa Missa.

Whenever he's not with Tallulah or another egg to protect, I think Chayanne would call Missa.

He is terrified that it is the end of him, they (his family) love him and he knows that there will be no danger for his papá here. He does need consolation, Is it too much to ask?

He is a good boy, a great warrior, and he did try so well. He knows that either of his parents will assure him that he did the best he could. He knows that they will give him soft guarantees that will make the feeling of inadequacy and pain diminish.

But he wants his dad Missa.

He knows he's not thinking, anyone knows that Dad Phil can face any danger better than Missa would.

But he's not being rational, he's being sentimental, he's not being the big brother, he's being the little egg who he knows he is.

He wants the tranquility that Missa can offer with the simple aura; he wants the happy optimism that Missa sticks out like a sore thumb in his gloomy and ominous appearance.

But Chayanne knows better that his father is naive, and so kind that's why he has to protect him! Even though now it seems that he won't be able to.

He doesn't want dad Phil to see him like this almost as much as he longs for his gentle protection and the right words of encouragement from him. Chayanne wonders what would he think of him?

Nothing bad, he would probably be filled with worry, concentrating on speaking sincerely and with his heart in his hand.

Like the last time…

But Chayanne knows deep inside, at his young age that this is the definitive one for him, there will be no another time.

So if he can't have all together, his family (please let the boy have all there he loves them and he needs to see them one last time)

Then he would ask for his father, the man who sang the first song he ever heard in his life, name him, teach him water drops and how to cook, the one who teach him how to turn his violence into something profitable, he wants the man who makes him happy with only his appearances in his life outside of his busy schedule.

He wants, he does need to feel loved and protected like he once did when he was a tiny egg just came to life. Maybe it sounds so childish but a part of him needs to feel like a loved and silly child again.

So this is the end…

Chayanne seeks the comfort that his papá Missa inspires, Oh how he wants to hear him sing one last time…

Tallulah!

Her lungs squeeze painfully in her chest, the chaos around her roars like a thousand beasts indiscriminately that she already has enough pain in his body without having more, there is nowhere to run, can't run, and the name Philza turns to her tongue…

Beyond the first eggs, like Chayanne, that were loved upon arrival, Tallulah arrived with a heavy heart from the beginning.

Spreading her love everywhere as a mere defense against abandonment or at least in part (it was not the intention of the islanders to abandon her, the adoption process was not well done, some with two eggs and others with one, it was not fair for her or hope)

But on the other hand she knew what it was like to not feel the love she saw in others, she strove to give it to everyone to share just what she lacked.

In this context she comes to Philza, holding hands with Missa will not deny that she embedded part of his appearance in herself, so similar; music, ghosts, and even colors.

It was easier to protect herself from the bond that she could have with Chayanne's father if she looked like someone else (even if he was still another of Chayanne's father).

But if there is something that hurt Tallulah, it was loneliness, every bit of it was like returning a little to that Federation attic, alone eating dirt to survive.

Her fate could have been worse than this, that would have been a lonely, tragic ending.

She knows it now but before she wasn't so sure.

A mixture of jealousy and anguish choked in her throat when she saw the other children so… complete and free without having to earn anyone's love /God, she and Missa are so similar, those who say that he is not her father are so wrong.

Then she was struck down by overwhelming guilt because she had someone she had Phil! But Phil is Chayanne's father, not hers.

Never hers.

While all the other children freely adopted these traits of their parents, Tallula is happy to just see herself as her own person because she does not believe that she can bring herself the shame of imitating her loved brother's father.

She will never be able to steal it! Only sometimes it is impossible for her wings to not be blackish or for her hair to be so dark.

They are all she have, all the family she knows and that she can say about them beyond the fact that they love her deeper than she has ever let herself love others.

Words will never be enough to explain how grateful she is to them.

So she expresses it with actions, her flute, flowers, nicknames, always looking for a way to convey her feelings that she does not verbally, to share a little of how happy they make her even with the black cloud hanging over her head.

The black cloud refuses to abandon her, be it the Federation that left her behind, the monster that traumatized the people she loves most in the world, being kidnapped multiple times (isolated for a moment, alone, so alone) and walking through hell.

But they are always there, especially dad Phil!

When they took them back to that dark attic that she thought she would never return to, and when they visited that macabre place called egg island her dad Phil was always there, late sometimes, but always there, always found her.

He managed to pick her up when the code stabbed her and she arrived just in time to pull him out of the water after his (failed) leap of faith.

Could she begin to repay him for all the love and security that he made her feel? Maybe not, but that didn't matter.

Because now he understands that he doesn't have to “pay” or “earn” her father's love, she can simply… have it. To have love, to have a father and to be a daughter without being ashamed or guilt. As Chay once told her; "The more people, the more love to share."

Tallulah has been through terrifying things before, she sees it in how her life flashes before her eyes but she surprises herself that she has peace in this moment because she knows that her dad Phil will arrive, even if it is not to save her, she knows he will be there, He will be there with her and that is more than she could ask for (although she would ask for her entire family to be there)

There are worse ways to die and now she knows it better than dying of hunger in an attic forgotten by God, at least where she is now she knows that she is loved and when the storm passes she will still be loved.

She hopes that dad Phil is proud because she fought so hard and came so far. She knows that he is...

#qsmp #qsmp missa #qsmp tallulah #qsmp philza #death family #qsmp chayanne #qsmp eggs #analisys #deathduo #qsmp deathduo #qsmp angst #ANGST #chayanne and tallulah #qsmp death family

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anxiousstark · 2 years

Text

THE BANISHED KING | EDDIE MUNSON

Bastard King! Eddie x Princess!Reader

Word Count: 14K (worth it, I think).

Warnings: Mentions of sexism, homophobic comments/ideology, abuse from a parental figure, mentions of sexual abuse (not explicit and not regarding Eddie or the Reader), dirty talk, mention of objects being inserted in v, masturbation (mutual or solo), unprotected sex (this is a fic, be safe), blowj!ob, cum play, caught having s€x, breed!ng kink, filthy, public sex, Eddie is teasing and a kinky b!tch. This is filthy. DNI NEEDED. THOSE YOUNGER THAN 18, LEAVE!

Didn't finish proofreading it. I was exhausted.

A/N: Hi there, it's finally here! Enjoy it and please reblog or like if you enjoyed it. It means a lot to all of us who write here.

BIG MASTERLIST

Words you must know for the fic:

Setsunai: something once bright, now faded. It is the painful twinge at the edge of a memory, the joy in the knowledge that everything is temporary.

"We made a pledge." Thomas' voice rang out, sharp and unconcerned. He appeared too calm for how fast your heart was racing at the time. How dare he make such promises?

"With all due respect," your father's piercing eyes shot in your direction, causing you to shudder as you strove not to meet his powerful gaze. "I did not promise such a thing." Your brother scoffed, appearing irritated by your remark.

You both used to be pretty close as children, but the power that had infiltrated his body as a result of your father reminding him that he would one day be king had utterly transformed him. Thomas was no longer the lovely young boy who used to defend his younger sister with all his might.

"They saved me." One of his responsibilities as a future King was to visit other places and assess the reality of how his people lived. However, you had learned a long time ago that they never did anything about the appalling conditions under which your people were forced to live.

During one of these trips, some anti-Crown individuals decided to assault him and his personnel, putting everyone's lives in peril and nearly murdering your brother if it hadn't been for King Fareq and King Munson. Your brother had pledged to thank them for saving his life by giving them a gift.

One of the most precious assets in your kingdom was one of the presents he offered. A chest that had belonged to your family for centuries and had remained untouched in the palace, guarded by hundreds of guards. You thought the chest would be fantastic to sell and utilise the proceeds to benefit your people. Elders and children were both dying before their time. It was a frightening situation. A situation that their King should have resolved long ago.

The other gift? Your brother had offered your hand in marriage.

You could marry King Fareq, a 63-year-old nobleman known for being involved in highly dark business. A man who was uninvolved with his Kingdom. A self-centred individual.

Aside from that, King Fareq was well-known for his 'adoration' for women. He'd been married seven times, and each of them had vanished without a trace. Nothing further was ever known about those women.

Then, King Munson, your second choice. There was so little known about him. Yet, you had heard so many different descriptions of him, making it impossible for you to imagine what he looked like.

It was unbelievable how many individuals feared him while not knowing anything about his character, whereas they feared fewer others whose dark secrets were always visible. It astonished you how much stronger the fear of the unknown was.

"They saved my life. We must be thankful and provide something of significant worth." When did you start being something rather than someone?

"You said it, brother." You didn't say anything else till you took a big breath, trying to stop your body from quivering. "It was your life that was saved, not mine."

He sneered once again, something he seemed to do quite a lot. "What exactly are you implying?" He sneered.

"They saved your life; marry them if you wish to repay them." Your mother exclaimed, bringing her hand to her chest. She despised every time you responded, fearful that your father's wrath would fall on you.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me." As he stood from his brown throne and marched towards you, your father's fury became too much to bear. "What did you say?" You had to look up. He'd always been a giant. Tall and broad. He became one of your worst nightmares — particularly when he was enraged, which was most of the time.

Your first mistake was to glance to the side to escape his gaze, knowing how much he loathed not being looked at while being spoken to. But you had to peek in the direction of your mother to see her reaction, hoping that your brain and mouth would agree to remain silent.

They didn't, though.

Your eyes followed your head movement, eventually settling on the man standing too close to your face. "My life has not been threatened, and no one has come to my aid." How did your mum end up marrying such a man? He wasn't a decent one, and he wasn't handsome. His arched nose and dull dark eyes were both acute. His long brown beard nearly covered his entire face, making him even more frightening. Your mother was not at all like that. He was a beast, and she was soft and kind. "I'm not sure why I have to endure the repercussions of his conduct."

It occurred suddenly.

His palm struck your cheek, forcing your head to the side where your mother stood, breathless and unable to go to you. If she did, she'd suffer the same fate as you. "You will do as I say." He exploded. "You will also obey your future King." You blinked hastily, clenching your jaw, regretting your previous action as your cheek and mouth ached much more. "We fulfil our pledges."

"Where are the clean water and supplies that you promised your people?" You stood firm, staring at him, challenging his might. But, before he could strike you again, your mother screamed out his name.

She'd pay for it later.

"You're going to marry." Your fists clenched the skirts of your dress as you peered about, looking for a way out. So vain. No one has ever fled this prison, especially not you. "My son." Thomas sprang up, terrifyingly staring at your father. It made you want to laugh. He pretended to be powerful, but he was just as frail as your mother and you. Gerald Y/L/N was dreaded by everybody. "We shall inform King Fareq that he has a new wife. King Munson should be aware that a magnificent treasure is on its way to him."

"No." Once again, heads turned to you. Your mother begged with her face. You exhaled a sigh. "King Fareq gets the riches." You took a step forward, ignoring them as you approached one of the tall white doors, which opened for you as soon as you were near enough. "I'm marrying King Munson."

"It is preferable that you marry King Fareq. He is one of our loyalists and-." Your brother appeared to be anxious. "King Munson was kicked out of the Kings assembly. We do not make judgments based on his Kingdom. He is impractical. He is a-."

"A bastard?" You aided him.

Edward Munson Jr. ascended to the throne after his father murdered every single person in a nearby realm. He was perhaps the most dreaded man in the world. A position presently inhabited by your father.

Of course, when the previous King was assassinated for his crimes, only two individuals were granted access to the throne. The next one would have been Wayne, the King's brother. But he had done everything he could to avoid being in that predicament. He did everything he could to ensure that his nephew became King, knowing that his brother would be writhing in hell, driven by the wrath of watching his bastard son, whom he despised, govern.

"I'm marrying King Munson…The Banished."

As you stood in front of the castle, your jaw dropped open. It was a dark gothic fortress with towers that seemed to pierce the sky. Since the sky was grey, it appeared much more ominous and even eerie.

"Don't those look like bats?" A voice spoke alongside you. You nodded in response, not daring to turn away from the piece of architecture that had piqued your interest. "Gosh." Following your father and sibling into the castle, your mother shrieked. "Y/N!" You turned your gaze her way, recognising her distress. What you were most afraid of was not marrying King Munson but leaving your mother alone.

"King Munson will arrive shortly." You were still perplexed by the youngster guiding you into a massive and spacious room with a black medieval table in the centre covered with dinnerware. "Would you please have a seat?" Said youngster made a motion with his hand, directing you to the table. As usual, you attempted to sit near your mother. Yet, the boy, whose name you had discovered was Dustin, halted you. "King Munson wishes his future wife to sit by him. "

As your father growled, you had trouble swallowing. "Since when did a King seat beside his wife?" He attempted to occupy the seat next to the throne but was again stopped.

"My King certainly does." He looked to have a lot of courage for such a young child, speaking openly. "Please, allow me." He approached you, extending his arm for you to hold and escorting you to the chair just next to the throne.

Your father growled once more and slapped your mother's hand when she had attempted to calm him down. You were about to say something until you were startled by a horn. "King Munson has arrived!" A young girl declared. Because her hair was so short, you initially mistook her for a boy. Why were there so many children here? You'd also observed the redhead female dressed in what appeared to be an antique knight's armour.

Your mother gently patted your leg, urging you to rise and greet the King. You did it swiftly, your chest heaving with anxiety. "My King," Dustin said quietly, not looking your way. "Is a genuine King." You just disregarded his comments, returning your gaze to the entrance through which you had entered.

Gradually, a figure entered and it wasn't until he took a few steps that the darkness stopped swallowing him. He was clothed entirely in black, from head to toe, and was wrapped in thick, warm clothing. Your gaze travelled up quickly, but you were distracted by the bat resting on his shoulder. Except for you, everyone in your family gasped.

Then your gaze wandered over his face. His skin was fair. His eyes were dark and round, which appeared to defy each other. His nose was pretty, as were his full lips. A shadow adorned his jaw, indicating that he had most likely not shaven. Most notably, he had luscious chocolate brown hair. Curly and long…never seen on a King before.

"I've been expecting you." As he got closer, you realized his eyes weren't as dark. They appeared to have golden specks. "To be honest, I was quite thrilled to meet you." Your father took a step forward, ready to be presented. To your astonishment, King Munson was speaking to you, not him. He towered over you slightly, but his piercing look made you feel much shorter than him. For his eyes never left yours. "I've always longed to see your Kingdom's two outstanding beauties." He addressed you, but at the latter, his eyes shifted to your mother as he offered a smile and a light bow. "It gives me great joy to meet you, Princess." You shivered, mouth gaping as a breath left your body.

"Likewise, my King." One of his warm and rough hands took yours, bringing it to his lips, depositing a kiss on the back.

"New Kings must not be aware of the regulations." Your father spoke out, averting his gaze. "It is of crucial courtesy to address the King of another Kingdom first, followed by those who accompany him."

You flinched, and King Munson noticed, not pleased with your reaction. "If you honour your pledge, she will be the one sharing this castle, her life, and my bed." Your skin burned. "I do not really understand how addressing someone else when she is present is more important."

"It is significant because I am the King." Your brother attempted but failed to silence him. "As her father, it also is." Edward assisted you in sitting down by holding the chair for you and pushing it closer to the table. He then sat on his throne.

"As a man of my word, I am allowing you to marry my daughter in compensation for saving the man who will replace me on the throne when I die. This does not imply that I like you, King Munson." Your father eventually sat down. "I am not thrilled that my daughter will be sucking a bastard's dick." You exclaimed, your eyes wide with surprise.

"If she pleases," you were taken aback when the King spoke up, unfazed by your father's comments. "She'll be doing more than just a little sucking." He had stated it with such a solemn expression. "Plus, if she is to be my Queen. She does not follow your rules, but rather her own."

"She is not yours yet." Your brother spoke out, but he appeared to be afraid as King Munson glared at him.

"You would be rather ungrateful if you went back on your promises and did not provide me what you had promised me." He stated. "You would not only be untrustworthy but also a man who does not keep his promise." Eddie motioned for Dustin to cease serving him alcohol. "If you are concerned about your lovely sister marrying the banished King…" He paused in his speech to take a sip of his wine. "Then you should not have offered her hand so hastily as if you were trying to get rid of her." Your gaze had been resting on your lap, but as soon as you heard his words, you shifted it to him. He extended his cup when he noticed your staring.

You shook your head. "That is not acceptable to me, my King."

"How come, my Princess?" The pet name came out in a deep tone that caused you to shudder. You cast a peek at your father. "You are free to communicate with me, Princess Y/N. There is no need to get authorisation." He cleared his throat. "Your word is as important as mine from now on. That is how it is in my Kingdom. Do you understand?" His gaze never left yours as if you were the finest thing to look at.

In answer, you nodded your head. "We, women, must abstain from drinking since we risk doing dumb things that will tarnish our reputation." You'd grown up hearing those words. Words told to your mum by your father and later transmitted to you. "That's what we were taught, King Edward."

"Call me Eddie." He scoffed, shaking his head and casting a peek at your father. "She just said something ridiculous."

"My Kingdom, my rules, King Eddie."

"Do not address me as such. Except for her, I am King Munson to you and everyone else at this table." His gaze returned to you. "Do you want to try?" You gulped. You were intrigued, but drinking from it would get you in trouble. "You are now free to do anything you choose. You're marrying me, therefore you'll be staying in my castle, far away from them." Something told you he wasn't talking about your mother but about your father and brother, who were glaring at him.

"I'm curious."

He grinned, bringing the cup from which he had been sipping to your lips. "Don't take a huge sip; you'll regret it." You followed his instructions. Your hands brushed against his as he never released the grip on the cup, assisting you. "Good girl." You almost choked, withdrawing the cup from your lips and coughing loudly. He smirked. "How did you find it?"

"It's rather strong," You said, making him laugh as you scrunched your face. "I always imagined it would be sweeter."

"I have some that are sweeter. We'll give them a go the next time."

The remainder of the night progressed in silence, with everyone engrossed in their own dishes and hesitant to speak up. Normally, such a situation would make you exceedingly anxious but because you were seated next to King Munson, you didn't feel that way. He would sometimes ask whether you were enjoying your food, and he would take your honest responses into consideration, not wanting to offer you something you didn't like.

After supper, King Munson and you accompanied your family to the front door, where he only bowed to your father and brother but reassured your mother that she could visit anytime she wished. You'd miss her terribly.

"I'm sure you're fatigued, my Princess." You nodded shyly now that you were on your own. "This castle is large, but you will soon figure out where everything is. I'll give you a tour tomorrow after you've rested and eaten." You nodded your head again and accepted the arm he offered. You linked it with his as he led you to the second floor of his palace. A red rug adorned the stairs.

You two approached a black door, admiring its numerous intricacies. "I assume you like bats, my King." The one that had been perched on his shoulder had long since vanished.

He laughed. "I love them." He extended his free arm, opening the door and making you gasp. There was a large king-sized bed in the centre of the room, covered with black satin sheets that looked warm and inviting, as well as translucent drapes that gave the bed a more intimate appearance. Two massive wardrobes were situated on the right side of the room and were embellished with large tall mirrors that ran from top to bottom.

"That's the bathroom." He pointed to his left side. "If you need help bathing, I have female staff who will happily assist their future Queen."

"I usually bathe by myself." You valued your own space and intimacy.

"I hope our room meets your expectations. Notwithstanding, if you want to change any of the decorations...that is fine with me."

You had turned on your side to gaze at him, ignoring his last remarks. "Ours? I-I assumed we would…" You took a breather. "I thought we were supposed to sleep in separate chambers."

He rubbed his chin and shook his head. "Do your parents sleep in separate bedrooms?"

After nodding, you swallowed. "My parents' rooms are fairly apart from one another." He scowled as if he didn't like the idea. "My father believes that a wife should be in another chamber so that a husband may freely interact with other women."

King Munson sneered, disgusted by all he'd discovered about your father. "Well, Princess. Apart from you, I do not intend to sleep with anybody else. I will not share my bed or my body with a woman who is not you, and I hope you will desire to do the same." You simply nodded. "We'll be sharing a room and a bed, but I won't touch you without your permission." You breathed a sigh of relief. "My hands will only probe your body if you ask them to." His stare was usually so piercing that it made your legs shake and wonder if you were capable of standing. He must have noticed as he smirked and squeezed the flesh of your arm. "Come on, Princess. I'll let you change into your nightgown and then return to your bedside to sleep next to you." You lowered your head slightly as he did. His lips landed on your forehead, pressing a light and short kiss just beneath your hairline.

The night before had been pleasant. You had assumed that falling asleep in a strange place would be difficult. Nevertheless, you were totally wrong. As soon as your head struck the pillow, your eyes began to feel heavy, and your blinking became slower and lengthier.

King Munson was lying on his side of the bed, looking at you and speaking quietly to you about his Kingdom. He was undoubtedly attempting to lull you into absolute relaxation so that you could fall asleep. And you'd done it.

As a result, you awoke this morning well-rested and with a growling stomach.

Eddie had not been there in the morning, much to your dismay, but Nancy, one of his employees, had reassured you by explaining that King Munson had a meeting early in the morning and had decided not to wake you up. Then she gave you time to wash and dress before guiding you into the same dining room as last night.

With a handful of sunshine streams coming in through the window, you were able to enjoy the palace's magnificence even more.

"Is it good?" Dustin inquired, nodding his head and smiling broadly.

You nodded rapidly, attempting to swallow your food as soon as possible. "Will King Munson join me?"

Dustin shook his head, a remorseful expression on his face. "I'm sorry to inform you that Edd-." He coughed to restrain himself. "As you are aware, King Munson is attending an important conference. He will be unable to meet you for breakfast today, but he wanted me to let you know that this is a one-time incident." That sentence brought you joy. If you were to marry someone you didn't know, you hoped that both of you could live comfortably and without tension. "You will be escorted back to your room after breakfast. Nancy has prepared three lovely and unique gowns for you." You nodded, checking to see whether Nancy was present to thank her. "You may pick the one you like most." His brightness was contagious. "You will then be escorted to the carriage that is waiting outside the palace. King Munson will be there to receive you." You nodded and sipped the tea that had been particularly made for you. "You will both have a short tour of the city. It is customary for our people to view their new Queen-to-be."

You swallowed, tentatively. "Is it…are the people alright with having a Queen…daughter of Gerald?"

He gave a strained smile. "Do you want total transparency, ma'am?" You nodded immediately. "They are afraid of Gerald of Y/L/N, but they are open-minded. I know terrible things have been said about my King, but I can promise you that no one is better than him." You paid great attention to what he was saying. "The people adore him, and he puts forth every effort to listen to them as frequently as possible."

"That's fantastic." It really was.

"Have you noticed, my lady, how many children live in this castle?" He laughed, as did you. "King Munson does not want upper-class individuals to work for him, believing that they do not need the money as much as others do. The majority of us were orphans, and King Munson permitted us to live and work here." Your heart began to beat rapidly. "We will be eternally thankful to him. Please forgive us if we ever refer to him as Eddie. We address him as King Munson in public, but he has allowed being addressed as Eddie when important figures are not around. Also, please let us know if our presence ever makes you uncomfortable." You grimaced. "As previously said, we reside in this castle. We have access to every room on floor three, so we may be noisy and act like kids from time to time." He sheepishly looked at the ground, as did the knight-dressed girl named Max and the boy who constantly followed her around; Lucas.

"I believe that will be fun" You responded truthfully, making him grin in response.

"Do you have any children in your castle?"

You tilted your head. "Just extremely elderly and wealthy people…quite frightening ones as well." You trembled as you remembered some of the people your father kept around the residence. There was a man whose name you couldn't recall but whose visage you would always remember. He had abused some of the castle's workers, both men and women, and your father had still allowed him to live and work there. It was frightening to think that he may have tried to do something to you if you hadn't been the princess…but something told you that it wouldn't deter him from trying.

"King Munson looks after everyone here." He may have noticed the difference in your expression. "In fact, we all look out for each other."

"It appears to be a large family."

"Very much like that."

After breakfast, you were given a quick tour of the palace by a girl named Robin, who appeared to be laid back and made you feel at ease. She had raised expectations for a few of the rooms by suggesting that King Munson was disappointed as he couldn't give you the tour himself.

The palace was stunning.

Without a question, your favourite room was the library. It was a huge chamber with white shelves that spanned the entire length of the walls. They had no vacant space since they were crammed with novels. Plus, there were scarlet chairs that looked ideal for a reading frenzy. You were eager to put them to use.

After the tour and changing into a delightful bluish gown, you were led by Nancy and Dustin to the palace's entrance, where a pumpkin-like black carriage with silver ornaments awaited you.

"King Munson is already there." Dustin approached the chariot, and when someone opened the door for you, the lad gave his hand, assisting you in climbing the steps while your other hand grasped your skirts, not wanting to tumble down.

You'd crept inside, disregarding the door closing behind you as you sat down, your gaze fixed on the man sitting next to you. He looked stunning in a dark suit. "My future Queen," He pulled your glove off one of your hands so he could kiss the back of it. His gaze roamed over your face and body, making you flush. "May I say that you look fantastic?" As you told him how nice he looked, a hesitant crooked grin on your face. "I apologise for not being present this morning. I am sure everyone helped you feel at ease." You nodded, allowing him to continue holding your hand on top of his lap. "This will never happen again."

"It is fine." You gave him one of your brightest grins. "They took excellent care of me. I felt quite protected and at ease." Your comments had brought him comfort. He had spent the whole conference hoping you would be well without his presence, and he was relieved to learn that the treatment you received was what he had expected. "I was concerned about this part." You took a look around the carriage. "I wasn't sure if your folks would welcome me, but Dustin reassured me right away."

Eddie made a mental point to thank a favourite. "Whatever people believe has no bearing on who will spend the rest of their life with me." His thumb brushed against the back of your hand. "I care what people think about how I treat them, how they live, and everything else…but, as I previously stated, not in terms of who will spend the rest of their life with me. So don't let such thoughts into your head." You simply nodded. "Nonetheless, I believe they will like you. The only thing we can do right now is; grin and wave out the window. They only want to glimpse the face of their new, upcoming Queen." You hadn't realised you were already in the city, and people were crowding around you. Eddie leaned in and slid the curtain open.

"Wow." You were shocked to see so many people of all ages, all happy and chanting for their new Queen as their eyes landed on you. They greeted you warmly as if they already knew you. "Wow." You waved at them again, a genuine and thankful grin on your face.

"I told you." His voice was quite close to your ear, caressing it with his breath. "My people trust who I choose."

You did not look away from the gathering. "You saved my brother, and I was just a mere compensation."

"An immense compensation." He continued. "However, in some ways, I had chosen you." You frowned again, this time while looking at him. "I was already smitten by you."

"Until yesterday, we didn't know each other."

He grinned, his gaze moving from your eyes to your mouth. "We did." When you frowned, he chuckled. "You've formerly danced with me, my Princess." You struggled to recollect such an event, but you were certain you would remember if it had occurred. "On your 18th birthday. The palace was open to all Kings and Princes. Except for you, everyone had to wear a mask." You had despised the idea of not knowing who you were dancing with, whereas they knew who they were dancing with. "I danced with you twice and assisted you in leaving the ballroom before midnight." You exclaimed. He had been a pleasant individual with a gentle and polite grip. The one who had kept silent throughout the night. "Wearing the-."

"The raven's mask."

He nodded and smiled. "The one and only." Why hadn't he told you who he was that night? You had inquired, but he had merely bowed, feigning to kiss your hand, leaving you with wonder and a tingling body.

"I asked for your name that night, but you didn't reply." A sigh escaped from between your lips. That mystery man had had quite an influence on you that night. You couldn't help but wonder who he was.

Every other person who had danced with you had used the chance to touch you more than you had desired, making you extremely uncomfortable. He was the only one who hadn't done such a thing. Such a simple and expected thing. "The ball was intended for Kings and Princes." And he was one of them. "But…" He moved in closer. "Do you think The Banished King was invited?" You winced, shaking your head. Edward Munson Sr had been a cruel man, yet why should King Munson have to pay for his father's sins or be mistreated since the King's only son was a bastard? Why was it his fault rather than his father's? "I'm pleased you were as intrigued about me as I was about you."

You were hesitant. "I had been thinking about you that night." He smirked at your linked hands now on your lap instead of his. "I was quite interested in learning who you were."

"Oh, you thought about me?" As he talked, his big, innocent eyes appeared to narrow and darken. "What kind of thoughts?"

You tensed your body, attempting to keep it from twitching. "I was only wondering who was hiding behind the raven's mask." You coughed, trying not to keep your voice from cracking. "It was a magnificent one, and…you were the only one who displayed even the tiniest regard for me."

He paused for a moment. "I'm sorry you had to position yourself throughout that situation. It will never happen again to you."

Turning your head toward the window, you continued to smile and wave with your free hand, your cheeks flushed. "My entire body tingled." You soon regretted uttering such embarrassing things.

"Raise your voice, sweetheart." He squeezed your hand. "And be sure to look at me when you do." His statements made it plain that he had heard you and merely wanted you to repeat what he had said.

Your stare met his once again. Your heart seemed to be attempting to flee from your chest, thumping furiously. "That night, my body felt odd." He hummed as he transferred his sight from your eyes to your mouth. "It felt tingly."

"Does that happen frequently?" You shrugged, not knowing how to respond to his query, feeling very ashamed for having revealed such information. "Do you do anything when this happens?" He enquired about what you did to stop the sensation after you nodded your head.

"I take care of it."

He hummed again, a grin on his face and a curious sparkle in his eyes. "How do you look after it?"

You took a deep breath that made your chest tremble. "Hands." Eddie was able to hear a whisper.

"Hands?" You simply nodded. His hand dropped from yours, his finger gently touching your cheek. "Do you rub yourself?" You swallowed. "Does that ease the ache?"

"Sometimes." He cocked one of his brows. "Aside from that…" It was terrible for a woman to enjoy herself without a male; you had always been told. "Aside from that…" You shook your head, too ashamed to say anything else.

"Do you insert them in?" You gasped, staring deep into his eyes, only to see the amusement on his face.

"Do not make fun of me." You were nearly succeeded in returning your gaze to the window when King Munson's delicate touch under your chin stopped you.

"I'm not mocking you." He reassured. "I'm wondering if you did similar things when you were thinking about me. Women are entitled to more pleasure than men, I believe." Your pulse was descending to other regions of your body as you chewed your bottom lip.

"Yes, my King." He grumbled and closed his eyes for a few seconds.

"Please tell me, Y/N." His pause was brief. "May I touch you? This very moment."

You wanted that. For some reason, you wanted to feel his touch even more now that you knew he was the raven. You'd met the man the day before and were already interested in him, eager to get to know the person about whom others had spread rumours…and wanted to discover if his rugged hands would be soft when caressing you.

"People will notice."

His head jerked. "They are not going to. If I thought you would be seen in such a position, I would never have asked." Your heart was pounding furiously. "May I? You should not feel pressed. You certainly can-."

"I want to." You said. His lips twitched.

"Good." The way his voice darkened had your heart racing. "Look at your people. Smile and wave." His fingers left your cheeks and took off down the side of your neck, brushing up against the curvature of your chest. Your nipples stiffened instantaneously as they felt constrained by the clothing. "Show them how lovely their new Queen is." Your lips twitched, making it impossible for you to deliver a flawless grin. "Just like that." You heard him shift around and sensed movement close to you. King Munson had seized your skirts and lifted them to your lap, sliding his hands against your thighs.

"W-what." Your voice and body shook as a result of the predicament you were in. His fingertips massaged the inner of your thigh, causing goosebumps all over.

He hushed you softly, his finger moving farther and farther as the seconds flew, until it reached the place between your legs, causing you to yelp. One finger travelled up and down the centre of your underwear. "How did it get so wet?" He hummed in satisfaction, his finger again repeating the same motion.

His fingers performed the very same pattern numerous times, seeking to gently explore your body. As his fingers crept into your underpants, anxious to touch your flesh, King Munson caused you to gasp and close your eyes for a few seconds. "Oh, my gosh." Your voice was trembling, and you couldn't conceal it as the pads of two of his fingers parted your lips, trailing up and down and rising the temperature of your body.

"You are soft and warm." He muttered, and you fought the urge to turn around and examine what he looked like at this minute since he sounded to be having a great time. "Is this all for me?" You nodded briefly, still concerned the people of your soon-to-be Kingdom could perceive anything odd or unusual in your expressions. "Use your words, Princess."

"Yes, my King." He groaned, pleased with your response and how attentively you listened to him.

His fingers ascended after a few strokes, settling on your bundle of nerves. You shuddered with excitement, and he chuckled, appreciating every reaction your body could muster. "How adorable." His fingers massaged it in circles. The pressure was appropriate, and his motions were neither forceful nor mild. "I cannot wait to see how it looks." You gasped, leaning backwards as your back connected with his chest, unable to sit upright on your own. You simply wanted to open your legs and offer him the most access to your core. "I'm curious how big or small it is. My fingers are not enough to guess, but I'm confident I'll adore every part of you." His voice was closer than it had been, and his breath tickled your left ear. "I'm curious about how you taste." A moan from your lips as his fingers ran in circles at breakneck speed, causing your hips to buckle against his hand. "Are you trying to fuck my hand?" How could he speak such things freely while making you feel as if you were in heaven? "I can feel you getting closer and closer." Your hips began to move by themselves, attempting to meet his hand in sharper strokes. You had to use all of your strength to keep your lips from opening as your forced grin and wave faltered.

King Munson waved with the hand that wasn't between your legs before closing the curtains and leaning forward, giving you privacy and permission to recline backwards. Your eyes closed and your mouth opened, accompanied by your body arching. "Oh my god."

"Not your God, Princess." He began to place open kisses on your neck. "Your King." His fingers moved even quicker, allowing your hips to connect with the rest of his hand, providing you with even more pleasure. "Your fiance." Whimpers left your lips as your hand rested on his thigh, clutching his suit pants. Simultaneously, his free hand explored your chest. You nearly moaned, wanting to feel his skin against yours rather than simply his hands squeezing and pinching your breasts through your clothes. "Your future husband." His mouth went in closer, biting your elbow, while the hand on your breasts travelled to your neck, circling and clutching it like a necklace. "Give it to me, Princess. Wet my fingers and make a great deal of noise while doing so." He didn't need to ask for the remaining bit since your whimpers grew louder.

"My King," you wailed, as he pinched your clit. "Oh, my g-. Oh, my King." You groaned a few times.

"Y/N, let it go." You shuddered. "Do not be greedy," His fingers tightened around your neck. "Now it's my time to enjoy some of you." That was enough to make you moan loudly, cumming and coating his fingers with your juice. Your clit beat at the same rate as your chest strained.

You quivered as his fingers brushed you for the last time, and when you heard an unusual sound, you glanced up, twisting your head backwards, seeing King Munson licking his fingers, which were coated by your slick. "W-what."

"I'd like to claim this is the best meal I've ever had." His chin gleamed. "But it was just the appetiser." His hand reached into one of his coat pockets, pulling out a white silk handkerchief with his initials embroidered on it. He then lifted your skirts again, wiping your core. He folded the same item and placed it back in his pocket after delicately cleaning the dampness between your legs, much to your surprise. "Let's return home." Your chest expanded. "You must be hungry, and we have our wedding announcement dinner tonight." His lips found your brow and kissed it. Then he directed the carriage driver to return home. Eddie chuckled as your cheeks reddened, believing he must have listened to your moans. "Don't worry, he didn't."

The day had flown by in the company of King Munson. However, your gaze had remained fixed on him throughout the remainder of the day, while your thoughts seemed to be preoccupied with what had occurred in the carriage. You wished to feel his hands on you once more. You wanted his fingers to explore regions of your body that he hadn't had the opportunity to pursue, and…you wanted to explore his body as well and understand all he was hiding underneath his garments. Simultaneously, you were experiencing feelings of humiliation. You had already let him touch you shortly after meeting him. Did he believe you were easy?

A harsh grip on your forearm yanked you away from the evil notion that invaded your mind, causing you to yelp as a result of the unusually forceful grip.

"I need to speak with you." Your brother snarled, dragging you away from the centre of the room and concealing you both close to a wall where no one could see you.

The ceremony for your wedding announcement was underway, and your family, as well as several significant figures from neighbouring Kingdoms, had been invited. Everyone was eating and drinking and conversing at the same time.

"What exactly do you want?" You tried to wrest your arm from his grasp, but it simply tightened more.

"To speak with you." He looked around to make sure your fiance wasn't nearby. "I need you to cancel it all." His hand eventually left your arm as he signalled what was going on at the time. "You are not allowed to marry King Munson. I've been thinking about it, and it would be horrible for me as King if our people found out that I had permitted you to marry a bastard." He snapped, looking you in the eyes.

"You should have considered that before promising two unknown and random men that they could marry me in exchange for rescuing your ass." You cried. "I will not marry a man who is notorious for making his wives disappear." You shook your head and attempted to move away. He kept staring at you. "You're more concerned with what other people think of your decisions than with me. You are more concerned with what could happen to you than with what might happen to me." Your breathing was unsteady. "And recently, it's all been about you. Me listening to you. I'm weary of living for your benefit. I'm exhausted, and I'm going to marry King Munson." You attempted to reduce the loudness of your voice. "At the very least, he appears to care about me."

"Do you believe marrying this man will make others respect you?"

"You are not the person to speak, Thomas."

"I'll do all I can to shatter this." He spat on you unintentionally.

"Do it!" You retaliated with a spit. "I dare you, Thomas Y/L/N. I dare you to do anything about it, and I will tell everything." His brow creased. "If you do something about it…Father will find out about Steve." He flinched. You would never harm your brother or Steve, but you needed to intimidate him because you were afraid of being removed from Eddie and thrown into the hands of a disgusting old man. "I will tell father how much you have loved him since you were children, how you have promised him the best of lives, how you have told him that you would never touch the lady who will be chosen as your future bride." He exclaimed, his eyes welling up with tears. "I'll do it, Thomas. He'll be aware of every location Steve and you have-." His jaw tightened, as did his hold.

Someone coughed, drawing your attention in that direction. "Is there an issue here?" King Munson stood there with a stern expression on his face, looking between you two until his eyes settled on your brother's grip. "I'd prefer the only markings on your sister's body to be love marks done by me, therefore I'd really appreciate it if you could remove your hands off her." Your brother turned around and let you go, his sad eyes looking deep into yours, filling your own with tears. "Come on, princess."

You rushed to your fiance, who warmly wrapped his arm around you, attempting to soothe your trembling body while still staring deeply into your brother's eyes. "How did you find out?" Thomas' voice trembled.

"The walls can see and hear." You responded before turning around. Indeed, the walls did. And you did as well.

Perhaps they felt a love for each other that you had never known. One of those loves that will destroy you from within if you let it go. You had noticed their stares, the not-so-subtle touches, and you had seen them hide and try to consume their love.

You felt terrible for threatening him in such a way, not comprehending how difficult it must have been for him to know that he might someday marry a woman he did not love or even feel attracted to. Even if he had told Steve he would never touch her…he would have to give a new King to the Kingdom. What was he thinking at the time? Would he spend his entire life hiding, keeping Steve near and forcing him to hide with him?

"What was the meaning of that?" Eddie muttered as he led you to another part of the room. "Should I have someone evict him? I'll do it if he is bothering you. I do not care if he is the King of Setsunai." It made you pleased to know that he cared about you and did not like how your brother had treated you. It made you feel safe, which you had not felt in your house. Your mother had attempted to protect you as much as she could, but you both knew that there would come a moment when she would be unable to shelter you under her wing. Where your father will not hold back and will determine everything for you.

"It's fine." You took a deep breath and spun to stare into his eyes. "I was just taken aback." Your gaze darted across the room, surprising yourself when you noticed Steve in a corner, eyes wide open as he peered in your direction. Perhaps he had witnessed your interaction with your brother. That's what you thought until you realised he wasn't looking at you but at something happening behind you: your father was introducing your brother to Princess Everleigh, and Steve was staring at them with the greatest pain he'd ever felt.

"Are they together?" King Munson inquired, his voice just above a whisper so that only you could hear.

"I think so." He'd noticed the concern lines on your face as you continued to stare at Steve. "They're both future Kings; why cannot they do whatever they desire?"

Eddie gazed at you, eager to hear what you had to say. He admired the fact that your ideas were so different from your father's and that you felt everyone should be free to do anything they chose. "Unfortunately," he gripped your hand as it rested on his elbow. "Whether you are a King or not, you must constantly follow someone else's desire or you will be rejected by everyone else." He cast a glance towards Steve, who turned around and left the room. Your brother saw him leave, and although taking a step forward, he ended up shaking his head and remaining with princess Everleigh. "Some would rather live an endless life of pain and comfort than endure the repercussions of seeking to live the life they dream of with the one for whom they bleed."

As you looked at him, your eyes welled up with tears. "That's awful."

He nodded, dreading the tears welling up in your eyes. "Such is life."

You offered a teary chuckle. "Life is hell then."

He returned the chuckle. "I believe life is awful in and of itself, but it is up to you whether you want to look at it that way or not."

You scowled. "I do not really think it's that simple."

"Not always, but most of the time." He proceeded despite your perplexed look. "If you dwell on your flaws and the awful things that have occurred to you, you are just throwing yourself in the hands of similar things happening again. Of course, life has its ups and downs, but focusing solely on one would cause more harm than good." You took a big breath. "I can think of how horrific my life had been: my father was a murderer and I am a bastard, or I can think of me being a King today, even though it is a stressful task. My people trust me and approve of my judgments." His fingertips massaged your skin. "And I now have you."

You felt a tremor sweep through your body. "Is this going to last a long time? Crowds irritate me."

"Then we're two." His response made you smile. "However, I bet no one will notice if we leave. He'd leaned in closer, whispering in your ear.

"This is our wedding announcement." You giggled, covering your mouth with your hand, which he swiftly withdrew, yearning to see your smile. "I think they'll notice if the future husband and bride vanish."

He hummed. "I believe the food and beverages will keep them occupied. We've already spoken to everyone and made our presence known." He appeared to be looking for someone, and when he did, he raised his arm in the air. Dustin arrived not long after, dressed in a suit that appeared to be too large for him. He smiled in your direction, and you reciprocated. He was your personal favourite. "The future Queen is exhausted, as am I. Do you think you could make an excuse for us if someone asked about us?" Dustin gave a brief nod of his head. "Good. Tell Eleven and Mike to keep an eye out for anyone removing anything of value from the castle." Yet another nod. "And instruct Max and Lucas to make certain that no one goes anywhere they should not." You had discovered that several people had attempted to enter King Munson's castle without his consent.

"Good night." You spoke to the youngster, who grinned broadly. King Munson escorted you two out of the chamber, and your ears appeared to relax after not hearing hundreds of voices from every direction.

"He seems to like you a lot."

"I like him a lot as well." You replied with a smile on your face, but you suddenly hissed, preventing Eddie from guiding you upstairs. "May I remove my heels?" He frowned. "I'm not used to wearing such high heels…my feet hurt." He kneeled in front of you after your words, letting his fingertips brush your ankles and part of your legs as he removed your heels.

"Done." He grasped your heels in one of his hands, and before you could say thank you and proceed up the steps, your body floated as he scooped you, carrying you in bridal style. "Perfect." He grinned down at you, who was staring at him with amazement on your face. "I heard through Robin that you had never read The Lord of the Rings, and I was hoping that was not the case." You remembered when Robin showed you the library and you fell head over heels in love with it. She had inquired whether you had read TLOTR, only for you to respond that it was not the sort of book you preferred to read since you were drawn to romance. "So it must be true!" He exclaimed, a terrific expression on his face as if he had written TLOTR himself and been informed it was a terrible book. "I seriously can not believe my future bride and Queen has not yet read these amazing novels. That must be changed, my Princess." You laughed at his offended expression. He came to a halt and placed you on the ground in front of the bedroom you both shared. "This is the plan," he said, perplexing you. "We change into comfortable clothing and then head to the library to read The Lord of the Rings together." He grinned, and for some reason, spending that quality time with him made your pulse race wildly. "Is that okay with you?"

You nodded, trying to disguise your excitement as you swiftly unlocked the door, stepped into the room, and rushed to your bed, pulling your nightgown from beneath the pillow.

Eddie laughed as you walked into the bathroom to change clothes as he changed in the room.

Eddie and you were sitting across from one other, his gaze fixed on you.

He made you read the book aloud, and to be honest, you were nervous about it, afraid of tripping over the words since you were anxious and intimidated by his presence, but not in a bad way.

"On September 20th two covered carts went off laden to Buckland, conveying the furniture and goods that Frodo had not sold to his new home..."

Eddie rose up from his seat, his eyes fixated on you in a manner that prompted you to shudder. "Keep reading." When he realised your silence, he was ready to speak.

You nodded as you gulped. "...by way of the Brandywine Bridge." He was now quite close to your body, and you could feel the warmth emanating from his skin even though he wasn't touching you. As he kneeled on the ground in front of you, your voice trembled. "T-The next day," You coughed. "F-Frodo became really anxious, and kept a constant look-out for Gandalf."

His gaze shifted to your lap, and he gently parted your legs, exposing them. "Open them." Your pupils dilated.

"That's not very ladylike." You responded.

"What I want to do is also not very genteel." As your body trembled once again, he grinned. "Y/N, open your legs." You listened to him and opened them further for him. You were tiptoeing since the only portion of your feet that came into contact with the frigid ground were your toes. "And I said to keep reading."

His fingers gradually tugged your nightgown upwards, revealing most of your naked legs to him. His breathing was uneven, but he was fast to control it, which you did not appear to be capable of. His fingertips brushed over your flesh, causing goosebumps. "Thursday," you tried to continue, your gaze darting from between the pages to the man in front of you. "His birthday morning," Eddie's face moved closer to your legs, and you could feel his breath tenderly tickling your legs. "…dawned as fair and clear as it had long ago for Bilbo's great party. Still-." You shrieked. He was kissing your legs tenderly, around your ankles and calves. "Gandalf did not appear." You had to pause once more, your mouth opening as his kisses grew more intense, open kisses in which his mouth stroked and nibbled your skin. "I cannot think clearly." His fiery eyes just returned your gaze, pushing you to continue. "In the evening F-Frodo gave his farewell feast: i-it was-." As his lips brushed over your flesh and bit the inside of your thighs, a whimper escaped from between your lips.

"Go on." You shuddered as his lips slipped away from your body simply to utter such a thing.

You exhaled, straining to concentrate. "It was quite small, j-just a dinner for himself and his f-four helpers." His bites were drawing closer and closer, causing your body to respond by dampening your undies. You'd stopped again without realising it, prompting King Munson to slap the side of your right leg as a warning. "But he was t-t-troubled and felt in no m-mood for it." His hands moved higher, clutching your hips and dragging your body closer to the edge of the couch so he could get to the centre of your core effortlessly. He pressed his nose on your underpants, inhaling. Such dirty behaviour made you exclaim and become flustered. "The t-thought that he would so soon have to part with his y-young friends…" As he reached beneath your panties, his hands touched your lips. He growled, ripping your underwear, shocking you. "…w-w-weighed on his heart." The book then fell from your hands, bouncing on the couch before landing on the ground.

His mouth had begun to devour you. Not gently. Not slowly. He acted fast and hungrily as if he had been anticipating this moment his entire life. As though he'd been trying to restrain himself since the night you walked into his castle, or even since the night you both danced with each other.

"Oh my goodness," You sobbed, seizing his long curls as his hands penetrated the flesh of your thighs and his mouth and tongue fought with your core.

He didn't appear to require oxygen.

He continued to devour you in ways you never imagined conceivable. And when he paused, peering deep into your eyes with a glistening nose and chin covered in your slick, he made you whine.

He brought his hand up to your face, displaying three of his fingers. "Suck them." Your eyes widened, and he had to tap your lips to shake you out of your reverie. "Go ahead, Y/N." You opened your mouth and let him shove his fingers inside it, sucking and twisting your tongue around the digits.

You almost closed your eyes. But before you could, his fingers left your mouth, slipping between your lower lips and quickly pushing themselves within you.

"Ahh." A gasp rang out once again in the room.

"You are trusting my fingers to enter you." The heat assaulting your body was unbearable. "I can feel you clamping around my fingers." He began thrusting gently, making you whimper and long for more. "You're very warm and inviting." His fingers and your fluids made a slapping sound as the action grew faster. "That sounds fantastic." As his thumb circled your clitoris, his movement grew frantic. You tightened your walls.

"Eddie." You whimpered, tears welling up in your eyes as a result of the incredible pleasure caused by his fingers inside you and his thumb still kneading your bud. "Oh, my gosh." His fingers curled. You shrieked. You'd never felt anything like what you were feeling at the time…he…his fingers were striking a certain part of your insides, causing you to feel some type of delightful pressure. "Oh, fuck." The big eyes of King Munson met yours. He was taken aback by the fact that you had cursed.

"Is that it, sweetheart?" You couldn't respond since you were too engrossed in the sensation. He didn't need to know the answer anyhow. He knew he was about to reach the area that had you screaming your lungs out. "Is it here?" He began to strike it harder.

"I am going to-." Your hands sought to grab the couch as if you needed to squeeze something.

"Come on. I can tell you're coming closer." He bit his bottom lip, repositioning himself to pound harder into you. Sweat beads poured down his brow. "Come on. I want to lick you clean." That made it for you as you groaned loudly, hips rising as you came.

The waves in your body caused you to tumble off the sofa, and even if you had cum, King Munson continued to thrust his fingers. "I can't. I can't." You were being overstimulated by him. "Please stop. Something is going on." You swiftly grabbed his wrist, but he was stronger than you and kept going. "Please." You sobbed.

Something bizarre and awkward was going on with your body. It vibrated and twitched on its own, and you felt like you were about to wet yourself, which was quite humiliating.

"Fuck, that's tight."

"Oh, Eddie, please." Of course, he did not pay attention, continuing to twirl his fingers. Then you sensed it. Eddie's lap got moist from the satisfying dripping. You'd seen a flow emerge from your pussy. "W-what?" Eddie's motions had paused as he glanced at his soaking lap and arm. "I am so sorry. I am very sor-."

You were interrupted by the collision of lips. "Fuck, you squirted." Was that what happened? "If I couldn't imagine you being any more captivating…"

After those words, his mouth met yours again, and he kissed you fervently, permitting your tongues to dance seductively against each other. You could taste him as well as yourself.

Your hands were pushing against his chest. "That is not fair. You've already pleased me twice, yet I have not done anything for you."

"I am a giver, Princess." He said, biting your lower lip, drawing blood, and sucking it. "But if I had your hands wrapped around me or that lovely mouth of yours." He wiped more of the blood off your lip with his thumb. "I would not be able to stop myself."

"Then don't."

He groaned. "I want to truly commit to you when we marry." You tugged his bottom lip into your mouth, feeling more daring, causing him to groan. Eddie Munson kept his eyes open the entire time, desiring to see every emotion you could muster. "But tomorrow night…you are entirely mine, and I am entirely yours." His brow rested against yours. "I swear I'm doing everything I can not to get you naked right now and bury myself deep in you." You closed your eyes, envisioning it and longing for tomorrow night. "I realise it's far too soon, Princess." His hand ran over your hair. "But I've loved you ever since that night we danced." You gulped. "I will do all in my power to provide you a life you will adore because I love you." You hesitated before your mouth opened. "You do not have to respond if you do not really feel it." He chuckled. "I am confident that you will ultimately fall in love with me."

After a few more kisses and fondling, King Munson and you returned to your room at night, taking turns bathing and falling asleep with intertwined hands.

The same chamber as the day before was, again, filled with hundreds of people who had been invited to your wedding. Even if you wished for fewer guests, you understood that Eddie, as King, had to invite those with whom maintaining a connection would benefit his Kingdom and people. Of course, many of the guests you did not even know and others you had only met the previous night when you and Eddie had stunned everyone by announcing your wedding the day before your formal wedding.

A platinum ring with a ruby now encircled your finger. It was exceptionally lovely and classy. You could detect King Munson…your husband's taste just by looking at it.

"It's a lovely gown, my Queen." A woman, whose name you could not recall, congratulated you. You could not even tell if she was the wife of the older or younger politician. Although, what you grasped was the way her eyes were fixed all the time on another lady who flashed her winks from another part of the room. "Did you choose it yourself?"

You promptly nodded your head, a grin on your face, thanking her for her compliment. Then you excused yourself and went in search of your husband, who had gone in pursuit of one of your favourite cocktails. Your heart started racing as soon as you saw him, and it continued to do so as he steadily approached you. A grin, of course, adorned his face as his gaze wandered all over your body and appearance. His eyes usually spent more time on your face than any other area of your body.

"You look stunning." You cracked a grin. "I absolutely can not wait till tonight." His forehead leaned against yours as you grabbed the cup from him.

You were overjoyed to finally be able to be with him. While at the same time, you were nervous since you had no prior experience with another person. You were familiar with your own body, but you had never had someone else explore every curve and weak spot.

You brought the cup up to your lips. Edie moaned as he took a step closer to you, his protecting arm wrapped around your shoulders. "Here we go again."

"You look stunning." Your mother smiled at you, her sparkling eyes signalling she was crying. Your heart ached as you hugged her and smiled. She profited from the chance to whisper in your ear. "I'm delighted you disobeyed our rule."

It was customary in your Kingdom for the bride to wear all white, with globes and a veil concealing her face. It was a symbol that a lady was pure for her spouse. You've always despised it. The women had to be pure, and the men…it didn't matter what they were.

Eddie was aware of the custom and had expressed his displeasure with it, proposing to wear one of the colours that symbolised his Kingdom. So, you were dressed in a dark purple bridal gown that looked stunning on you. You had never felt this attractive or lovely in a dress before.

"Thank you, mom." You squeezed her one final time, your gaze meeting that of your father and brother, who were plainly dissatisfied with your colour choice.

"I must admit that I am perplexed by the need to demonstrate that you are not pure." Snorting, your father commented.

"As much as I don't see why others need to know if a lady is pure or not." King Munson responded by mimicking your father's snort. "As I do not see how you can openly speak or express your view about a Queen in a position higher than yours." My eyes, like my father's, expanded. But, although I was trying not to laugh, my father was visibly enraged. "The amount of people available for you to control is dwindling, and I will happily urge you to refrain from making comments about my wife and Queen." He moved his fingers around your cup as he gripped it. He sipped from the same place that had been smeared by your lipstick. "I don't take it lightly when people make disparaging remarks about my wife." He looked over at your brother. "Neither when they attempt to do something else." He was referring to the previous night when your brother had tightly grasped your wrist. "Whether she is pure or not is irrelevant to any of you." Your father said something. "Were you, Gerald, pure when you married?" He cocked his brow.

"A man needs experience."

Eddie scoffed, shaking his head. "For his wife's or his own pleasure?"

"As I previously stated," Your father had a firm grasp on his drink. "A man needs experience."

"And, in most cases, a muzzle too."

"It is not wise of you to offend another King from another Kingdom, regardless of your position." Thomas stepped in, his jaw clenched.

"Please tell me, Y/N." You stared at your spouse, but he didn't look at you. "Do your Kingdom's men have every type of experience?" You wrinkled your brows, unable to grasp what he was saying. "Because I'm aware that certain ministers from your former Kingdom were banished for…interacting with other males." His gaze was fixed on Thomas, nearly searing him. "It's too bad people can't freely love or do whatever they want." You were now listening carefully to what he was saying. "But were those gents practising for their wives? I have no idea how fucking…" Your mother's eyes were wide open, and your father was visibly agitated. He'd be much furious if he knew about Thomas. "How can fucking another man be preparation for their future wife?" He sipped yet again. "It is broadly acknowledged that men and women have different s-."

"Father," your brother stepped in once again. "There is no benefit in remaining in his presence. Let's go engage with individuals who can benefit us." Your brother stared at him before shifting his focus to you. "Queen." He snarled and bowed.

"You're making a mistake, girl." Your father seized your mother's arm, yanking her away from you.

"I wish there was something I could do for her."

"You certainly can." Why did he constantly appear to stare deep into your eyes? "You are now a Queen. What I have is yours as well. Your mother is entitled to leave your father and migrate to our Kingdom." He looked up to find your mother standing next to your father, who didn't look her way. "My money is now yours. Your mother could rebuild her life." His gaze shifted elsewhere. "Who really can say? Maybe she'll meet someone else." You followed his eyes until you noticed a broad man with a beard. He was fixated on your mother.

"Who is he?"

He grinned, placing the cup on a nearby table. "Hopper, one of my most loyal guards." He twirled the rings that adorned his fingers. "If I may say so myself, he is my favourite."

You burst out laughing. "Everyone is your favourite."

"No." His voice had warmed. "They are favourites, but you prevail over all of them." He took a step closer, unconcerned that others might see both of you as he dropped his head, lips connecting with yours. And it wasn't an innocent one. His hand was wrapped around your throat as his mouth pushed wide, his tongue quickly entering your mouth.

"Stop." You licked your bottom lip, your hands on his chest. "Everyone is watching."

"If that's what they're interested in." He grinned as he attempted another kiss, but you were swift to step back.

Fuck. He stared you in the eyes with those huge, dazzling pupils. Eyes that made him appear innocent even though you knew he wasn't. His energy validated your ideas.

And how could he seem so intimidating and domineering yet his hands were always soft, seeking whatever portion of your unprotected flesh to caress?

"I love you." Before you could think about it, the words had left your mouth. You'd only known him for a few days, but you'd never felt this way before. This was not a crush. You've had a crush before. For a long time, Arthur was your biggest infatuation. He was the baker's son who provided for the castle. He used to accompany his father, and you had heart eyes for him since you were a teenager. But what you felt for him was curiosity, excitement, and lust. Those were sensations you had for Eddie as well, but they were far stronger and mixed with love.

"Fuck." Eddie moaned, capturing your hand and guiding you out of the room, taking full advantage of everyone else being preoccupied with dancing and conversing. You attempted to inquire as to where he was taking you, but he remained silent, wordlessly guiding you to a chamber. His office.

The door slammed shut behind you.

Before you could ask what was going on, his mouth was locked on yours. As he kissed you, his hands again encircled your throat. Kisses that were too sloppy, revealing his desperation to feel you against his body and mouth. His hips were constantly slamming into your lower abdomen, and you responded by awkwardly rotating yours against his.

Your hands, which had been resting on his chest, chose to explore, prompting you to drop them to his tummy. You were curious to see how he looked without those garments. If he looked like a God when dressed, imagine what he looked like nude. Perhaps Death himself. Your demise.

Eddie stopped, attempting to regain his breath so he could linger kissing you for a longer period. Nevertheless, you had spoken before he could do so, causing him to blink incredulously. "W-what exactly did you say?" He sought proof that he had correctly heard you.

"I'd want to suck you." Everything was said hurriedly. You needed to know as if it were a matter of life or death. You plainly couldn't wait for him to sober up as your hands slid down, pressing against his already firm member. Both of your eyes followed your hand as you stroked it, highlighting the shape through his suit pants with a finger. "Teach me."

"Oh my God, Jesus Christ H." Eddie exhaled. Was this real?

It was. Even though you appeared surreal lowering yourself to the ground and kneeling…everything was real.

Eddie looked at you, recognising a surprising glint in your eyes. The same one you got every time you were intrigued or thrilled about something. And this time, that something was him.

"Guide me." Your words made him throb, his cock pounding on his pants and hardening painfully. "Please, I really want to do it." Those remarks led him to drop his pantsuits as quickly as possible, practically tearing them and allowing his member to be free. He hadn't been wearing underwear so it slapped against his stomach as it stood tall and firm.

King Munson leaned against the office door, allowing you full access to his member, who was in your line of sight. Before he could speak, he had to clear his throat. "First, use your hands." His voice had broken with anticipation of what was to come. "Wrap your delicate fingers around my cock. Encircle it." He shuddered as your hands neared his member, and when he felt your fingers and palm around him, he nearly passed out. "Fuck." He closed his eyes for a few seconds and whispered, "Up and down, move." Eddie felt his legs shake a little when you started doing so. "Sweetheart, twist your wrist. It will be more pleasurable." You nodded, your gaze fixed on his dick. You looked like you were ready to take him into your mouth, and he was as ready to be in there.

"Is this all right?" Alright? Eddie was fighting with every fibre of his being not to pass out or to fuck you like an eager rabbit.

"It's flawless. You are flawless." Your hand had come to a halt while you awaited his response. "Sweetheart, don't stop." You proceeded. "Use your other hand for my balls." You flushed, raising your eyebrows. "They should be stroked. They should be massaged."

"Like you did with my chest?" He muttered, tightening his jaw and allowing his hips to come into contact with your hand.

"Just like that."

"When am I supposed to put it in my mouth?"

Maybe he had a fever and you were some kind of demon convincing him to go to Hell. But if Hell felt this way, he didn't need convincing.

"Come closer." He made a hand motion, asking you to hurry, and as you got closer, his hands rested on your head, fingers intertwining with strands of your gorgeous and silky hair, bringing you farther closer. "Begin with the tip gently. Suck it, kiss it. Then try to take everything. No teeth, okay?" You licked your bottom lip as you nodded, your thighs twitching. You were ecstatic and drenched from just seeing and touching him.

You had paid close attention to him. Eddie's palm tightened in your hair, your tongue probing his tip and encircling part of his head a couple of times. You licked strips along his dick, following one particular vein that appeared to pulse in your mouth, becoming more daring. Then you began to take him in, inadvertently grazing him with your teeth but rapidly using your lips and tongue.

His other hand brushed your cheek as he fixated to see his cock enter and exit your mouth. Even in that state, you were stunning.

As your hand wrapped the bit of his member that you couldn't get in your mouth, your eyes squinted in delight. When you whimpered around him and Eddie noticed you rocking against your heel, he slapped your hand away. His hands, now, on the back of your head, thrusting his full member into your mouth and causing you to choke. Eddie began fucking your mouth. Teary eyes met his and nails piercing his thighs. You were no longer in command. He was. "Oh, heck yeah." He thrust aggressively, a handful of times scraping the back of your throat. Even though you were in astonishment, your hands stroked his balls. "You're taking me so well." You groaned again, choking around him. "Gagging around me…fuck, you look wonderful even like that." Your hair was stuck to your brow, and your cheeks were flushed. "Is this your drunk-cock face, sweetheart?" He went even deeper, grunting and moaning and not caring whether he was heard. "That's right. That look will haunt me for the rest of my life…divine." He shifted his posture, going deeper. His sack slapped against your chin, which had a trail of saliva running down. "Good, uh?" You whined, nodding. "Fuck, I'm going to cum." He, like you, was growing restless. "I'm coming in your mouth." You made him moan by hallowing your cheeks. You could taste hot sperm spurts on your tongue. "Swallow." He smacked your face lightly, dick still in. "Swallow it, don't waste it." He thrust three more times, following his high. Then your mouth was released from his cock, allowing you to swallow the rest of his cum, which was quite a load.

A smear of saliva connected the tip of his member and your mouth.

"Salty." Your words were opposed by your tongue, which came out of your mouth to lick the drop that tried to fall down your chin.

"Sweetheart, get up." You did as you were ordered, but Eddie had to grasp your elbows since your legs were wobbling. How would you feel after taking him nice and deep if you were only like that by sucking him? "Come on, let's go to our room." He'd barely gotten the door halfway open when your palm slammed against it, shutting it.

"No, I need you right now." He loved how you responded with words rather than just nods and smiles or soft eyes. Words. "I need you right now."

"I, too, need you." He pecked your lips, his hands grasping your thighs, and he despised the fact that you were covered. "But I want our first time to be memorable. I-."

"It's special because it's with you, Eddie." It may have sounded corny, but it was precisely how you felt. "And I don't believe I'll be able to wait till we get to our room. I desperately need you right now." Your chest was pumping and your body was beginning to burn from the heat. "Please. I'll beg."

Eddie could feel every muscle in his body quiver and twist. "Go to the desk." He smacked your buttocks again, angered by the garments you were wearing. "Quick." He trailed close behind.

You both rounded it, and Eddie plopped on his desk chair, which resembled a throne, reminding you that you were now a Queen, married to King Edward Munson.

You gulped, seeing his confident posture, hand resting under his chin as he stared at you, unconcerned with his dick still standing stiff and exposed. "What should I do?"

"You should go nude right now." He demanded, his voice hard and stern. He removed his jacket and tossed it to the ground, followed by his white shirt. Eddie wasn't extremely fit. Even so, there was a slight tightness of his arm muscles. His chest was covered in hair, and his belly did unusual things to your body. "Screw it." He grabbed your skirts, dragging you closer to him. "I can't handle it any longer." Your skirts were torn off your body in an instant, and you had no time to complain about how lovely your wedding gown was as you found yourself practically naked in front of your spouse. Only wearing a corset and undies. Eddie, on the other hand, was quick to stick his fingers inside your underwear. "Drenched, as expected," and ripped once again. "I don't believe I need to prepare you. You're wet enough to welcome me." He drew you onto his lap, kissed your lips, and let you sit on his dick. He felt firm against your sensitive core, yet you both shared the same fire.

"Oh gosh."

"Doesn't it feel amazing? Imagine when I'm inside." He bit your lower lip. "Up." A slap on the side of your hip. "My Queen, you're going to ride me." He grasped the base of his member and guided it towards your entrance, causing you to moan as the tip brushed against your lips. "It'll hurt a little bit at first, but it'll feel so much better after a couple of minutes, okay?" Your gleaming eyes locked on his. He really wanted to corrupt you. He was going to love and please you for the rest of his life. His other hand assisted you in lowering yourself.

As the tip penetrated you, you exhaled a nervous breath and hissed. Eddie was long and quite thick. Besides that, he wasn't entirely groomed. Some black curls curled above his member.

"Stings." You huffed, hands on Eddie's shoulders. He kissed your forehead instantly, delivering soothing words and placing his hands on your hips to lower you fully on him.

As motions came to a halt, you both gasped, mouths wide and breaths mingling. While Eddie felt the constriction around his cock, you felt full in ways you had never felt before. He was on the edge of bursting if he didn't settle down.

King Munson's gaze dropped from your mouth to your bosom. Eddie found your breasts so appealing that he nibbled on the skin as the corset pushed them upwards. "You're a fucking goddess." Moving forward caused him to jerk within you. "You're taking me so well." He urged you to move, which you did, causing both of you to whimper. Eddie kept nipping your breasts, sick of the corset, forcing it down so he could attach his lips on your left nipple, paying it attention before letting it go and loving on the other. While doing so, his hips clashed with yours, luring you to move faster. "It's so fucking wonderful. I swear you were created for me." His lips were tickling your chin as he spoke, his face incredibly near to yours. "You tighten around me so well and take every inch like the good girl you are."

You groaned aloud. How could he make you feel this way? You didn't appear to mind that hundreds of people were gathered in the castle to celebrate the fact that you two were now married. You didn't care, so you let Eddie take you into his office, sucking him in and burying himself in you. "This is surreal." You bounced on him, your chest bobbing up and down, hypnotising him.

"I'll fuck you like this every day, sweetheart." You cried so loudly. "When you wake up every morning," Thrust. "This is how I'm going to put you to sleep every night." Hickey on the side of your neck. "I'm going to fill you up and keep you warm." Pecks to the collarbone. "Make your little bud tingle." He squeezed your hips. "I'm going to bury myself deep in you in every corner of this palace and on every surface." He came to a halt by kissing you. Because of all the groans coming out of it, your mouth was already open, making it easy for him to slip his tongue into it. Tongues dance seductively against each other once more. Trying each other out. "How many babies do you believe you can give me?" You shivered at the thought of a huge belly and Eddie repeatedly fucking you. "Will you be able to take everything I give you?"

"Fuck yes, I will." You were on fire.

King Munson reclined in his chair. "You look gorgeous, sweetheart." Hips began to move erratically. Eddie's finger caressed your clit.

"Is this a dream? I'm on my throne, and my Queen is on hers." A pinch on your clit had you groaning, gasping, and clawing him until you came undone.

"I'm going to cum, Eddie."

"Go, my Queen." He massaged your clit vigorously. "Cum." And you certainly did. Soaking wet all over your body, cloudy eyesight, and every muscle spamming. "Was it good?"

You nodded, attempting to catch your breath. "Didn't you cum?"

His head shook. "Y/N, get up." You grimaced but swiftly followed his instructions. "Chest against the desk. I'm going to fuck you and fill you from behind." You didn't have enough time to drop entirely against it when you felt his cock penetrate you, leaving you no time to adjust as he began hammering you, being close due to the previous session. "I'm not going to make it." He smacked you in the ass, leaving a mark from how hard he whacked it. He grunted and nibbled your neck as his chest leaned against your back. "You want it?" You whimpered and immediately nodded. "I'm going to fill you, my Queen. I wish you could view yourself from this angle." He was smirking. "I slipped a ring on your finger, and you slipped a ring on my cock." The combination of your fluids created a ring around his manhood. "Fuck." His thrusts grew lengthier and harder as he pulled your hair, and you felt the warm spurts filling you and driving you to your high once again.

The office door clicked at the same time, and Eddie, mercifully, was quick enough to throw your shredded skirts over you, hiding your entire body and face from whoever was about to enter. You couldn't see anything and couldn't be seen, but it was clear what Eddie was doing and with whom (you both had left the party).

Steve and Thomas stood at the entrance, their eyes wide open as they assessed the situation. Eddie, on the other hand, didn't appear to mind as he resumed plunging into you.

Steve's shirt was unbuttoned, and Thomas' pants were drooping. "Sorry, gentlemen, filled room; please find another." Steve tried to yank your brother away, but he was stunned, staring at Eddie, who merely grinned. "Are you planning on staying? Maybe we'll have twins. One for our Kingdom, and the other for Setsunai."

"You are a fucking bastard." Yes, and? "Fuck you."

"I'm more into your sister: my wife and Queen, and I'm not sure I'm your type."

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a-humble-bagel · 9 months

Text

so i finished good omens season 2 a couple days ago and i have a lot of thoughts about the ending, and how i’m not a big fan of the coffee theory. i think that aziraphale’s decision at the end of the season was actually very in-character, and i honestly love how that ending showed a key difference between aziraphale and crowley, so now im going to explain why i think that.

(this post ended up being about 1,800 words long, so if you don’t feel like reading that much, than just skip to the conclusion/tldr at the end :] )

the last ten minutes of season 2 absolutely ripped my heart out, but i think one of the worst parts is that it honestly feels completely in character for aziraphale because unlike crowley, aziraphale never lost faith in the system. in season 1, for example, he consistently tried to go through the system to try to stop armageddon, even getting to the point where he decided that the archangels were the problem and decided to try to talk to god personally.

crowley, on the other hand, didn’t even think about trying to convince the demons that armageddon was a bad idea, because, unlike aziraphale, he doesn’t believe in the system. to aziraphale, the flaws in the system were individuals like micheal, uriel, and, in season one, gabriel, and never the actual system. it always seemed to him like the archangels were the ones making mistakes, and he always strove to do what he felt was the ‘right’ decision according to his own moral compass.

@inhonoredglory wrote a really good analysis here that i very very highly recommend reading, but to summarize, @inhonoredglory talks about how crowley was the one who helped aziraphale learn that he doesn’t have to follow heaven’s command and to do what his heart deems is right, even if it feels like he’s breaking the rule, and how aziraphale isn’t blind to heaven’s problems but wants to fix them. he’s never stopped wanting to do good.

in addition to this, while aziraphale is still trying to be a good angel, crowley has kinda given up on the whole being a demon and making life worse thing. so while neither aziraphale or crowley follow what their respective sides want, they’re doing it in very different ways. aziraphale is doing what he believes an angel should do, not what heaven believes an angel should do, while crowley doesn’t try to do “demonic” things at all anymore, he’s just kinda living life.

aziraphale wants to do good. crowley wants to live life. those are the two paths and the two different opinions that played a large role in season 2 ending the way it did. it’s a difference the two have always had, but up until this point in the series, those motivations led to them wanting the same thing (stopping armageddon). however, when the metatron offers aziraphale gabriel’s job, suddenly aziraphale’s and crowley’s desires are leading them to two different paths.

but obviously there’s a lot more to their relationship than that. i mean the whole series revolves around how much aziraphale and crowley love each other. like @inhonoredglory said, it was crowley who showed aziraphale that he could defy heaven and that it was better to do what his heart said than what the archangels told him. they clearly both love each other so much, even if neither of them are actually willing to say it. that’s why i think that, as tempted as he was, aziraphale wasn’t originally going to accept the metatron’s offer because he couldn’t just leave crowley, but after the metatron said that he could make crowley an angel again, well,

it was basically all aziraphale wanted wrapped up in one thing. he would be able to do real good and make a change and fix all those problems in heaven, and he’d be able to do it with crowley there with him! it was like a dream come true! it’s tricky to remember since we all (or most of us at least, including me) think of this as them breaking up, but it’s important to remember that neither crowley nor aziraphale actually wanted to leave each other. they were both asking the other to stay with them. i mean aziraphale literally says that he needs crowley.

but with all that, why would aziraphale still end up choosing heaven over crowley if he was really acting of his own volition?

im gonna get to that in a minute, but first let’s take a minute to talk about crowley..

now i’ve been talking a lot about how crowley doesn’t believe in the system anymore, but let’s go into the details now. the opening to the entire season shows crowley basically creating the stars and space and more or less the universe, and then his disappointment at the fact that most of his work won’t even get to be appreciated. he’s clearly upset and plans to ask god about it, assuming he can’t get into trouble for asking a few questions which we know from season one is how he got kicked out of heaven, so it’s very probable that he questioned god, disagreed with god, got kicked out and didn’t seem to care about being “good”.

aziraphale questions whether what heaven is doing is right, where as crowley just questioned god. so, crowley got kicked out because he questioned the system (god) and was met with an “i’m right, you’re wrong” attitude. after all that, why would he trust the system? why would he believe that heaven could be reformed if he’s seen some of the worst stuff it could do? why would he ever want to be an angel again when the first time around, he put all his love and effort into something only for it to be underappreciated, and when he dared to ask otherwise he got kicked out?

also, when he snuck up to heaven, crowley discovered why gabriel went down to earth (or part of it at last). gabriel said no to armageddon 2, he defied the will of the archangels and the metatron (and we assume god as well), and for that he was going to lose all of his power. he only had power as long as he agreed with everyone else, and when he disagreed all of that power was taken away, just like it had been taken away from crowley.

so, as far as crowley sees it. heaven is broken and corrupt and unfixable, and the only way he’s able to do what he likes is without both heaven and hell. after all, that’s all he’s wanted, to be able to do what he wants. he wanted his creation of space to be allowed to develop, he wanted to be left alone by heaven and hell, he wants aziraphale to be there with him. so, to crowley, aziraphale saying he wanted to take over heaven and make crowley and angel again would have seemed like the worst possible thing in the world. being an angel in heaven would take away almost everything he wants, except aziraphale.

so, we have crowley, who needs aziraphale, and needs freedom from heaven and hell, and we have aziraphale who needs crowley, and who needs to be able to do good. now, let’s quickly talk about the metatron’s offer before we get back to aziraphale’s decision. now, when the metatron is talking with aziraphale, it’s clear that at first aziraphale is just being polite. he clearly wants to get away and go back to crowley, until the metatron mentions crowley. even after that, aziraphale still seems very conflicted.

i’d also like to point out that while i don’t believe the coffee theory, the metatron is definetly manipulating aziraphale, he just doesn’t need any magic to do it. the metatron goes out of his way to seem approachable and just like aziraphale (by getting him human coffee), the smile drops from his face and ominous music plays as he and aziraphale leave the bookshop, and, even though he tells aziraphale to ‘take all the time [he] needs’, he’s right back to ask him if he’s made up his mind after only a few short minutes, after he sees crowley storm out. not to mention, the metatron definetly knows more than he lets on, he mentions that crowley was always “asking damn fool questions” which we can assume are the questions about space that got him thrown out of heaven.

@halemerry wrote a really good analysis of the metatron’s manipulation here that goes into a lot more detail than what i just said and i’d really reccomend reading it.

so now aziraphale has to choose between doing what his heart says is the “right” thing to do, and what his heart desires (crowley), and he’s being pressured and mainpulated by the metatron into choosing the first option. now, throughout the series, he’s often conflicted on whether or not he should do what feels right, and crowley has helped him learn that it’s better for him to do what seems good to him. it’s just that in the past that always aligned with him and crowley working together.

and so, no matter how much it’s hurting him, aziraphale chooses to go up to heaven because now he can finally do good. he feels that it’s what he has to do, no matter how painful it is. and when he hears about “the second coming” his determination grows. he has to be up there, someone has to keep things in line, someone has to fix the system. but, what about the smile? why would he smile? well for the same reason he smiled in the bookshop just before he left:

and the same reason he smiled before getting in the elevator:

he’s putting on a brave face. i mean moments before he smiled in the elevator he looked like he was on the verge of tears, but now he’s smiling and trying to pretend as though nothing is wrong.

and that is why aziraphale choosing to go to heaven is in character. because he’s always believed that the problem was the people in the system, not the system itself, because crowley helped him learn to do what he feels is right regardless of his own personal comfort with that, because he doesn’t have the context crowley does of knowing what it’s like to be a high level angel and knowing what exactly got gabriel punished, and because, yes, he is being manipulated by the metatron, but all the metatron needs are words, not coffee.

tldr: aziraphale would choose to go to heaven because he thinks he can fix it, he doesn’t have the context crowley does, the metatron is manipulating him (but not with magic), and he’s learned (through crowley) to do what he feels is right regardless of how uncomfortable it makes him feel. it’s just that in this case, the thing that will let him do the most good is leaving crowley

#good omens #good omens 2 #good omens theory #aziraphale #crowley #ineffable husbands #aziracrow #metatron #good omens spoilers #good omens 2 spoilers

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arc-misadventures · 1 year

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Rebirth au: I can believe that Winter could considering Weiss and Whitley are more... physically alike because they got their dad. Winter was bigger thanks to getting that Arc DNA in her working with Willow DNA.

We Have Some Questions

A legacy.

She was the progenitor of the, Schnee legacy. A legacy of honour, duty, and compassion that help shaped the nation of, Atlas into what it was today.

One that strove for the betterment for all of the world’s inhabitants, whether they be human, or faunas. It didn’t care for where one was from, who one was, all that mattered was that they could help their fellow man.

Schnee. A name that bore honour, and duty with pride. One that all could gaze upon with pride.

A name that was now one that all those he said cursed, and spat upon, all because of one mans insatiable greed, and the blindness of one poor woman.

A woman who once had everything that truly mattered: A family to love, a husband that loved her, and a family name to bare with pride. And, now she had nothing, nothing, but the bottle of vodka that lay in her hand, and the many more that lay strewed about the floor of her room.

This was to be the sorry life of the sad drunkard, Willow Schnee. Whose only escape from purgatory was to be found at the bottom of a bottle.

Willow: Here’s to the, Schnee family… I’m sorry for failing you dad…

She was about to take another drink when a comforting hand rested upon her shoulder, while another gently grabbed the bottle, and took it away from her.

Willow: Huw…? Wait, who are…? J-Jun…?

Juniper: Hello, Willow.

Willow turned to see a face with a pearlescent smile, eyes that shined like the finest cut amethyst gems, and hair that shinned like finely woven golden threads. It was the face of her dear friend, Juniper Arc.

Willow: J-Jun…? I-Is that really you?

Juniper: I’m really here, Willow, you haven’t been drinking that much.

Juniper took her eyes away from her friend for a moment to examine all the empty bottles that littered the floor about her before returning her attention back to her friend.

Juniper: At least I hope so…

Willow: W-Why are you here…?

Juniper: We needed to talk with you.

Willow: We?

She felt a weight on the bed sit next to her. Willow’s icey blue eyes turned to stare in deepest blue eyes she knew. A soft smile showed across his face, as he lovingly wrapped an arm around her, and held her close. She thought she would never see this blond hair man ever again, but as she gazed upon him, tears started to swell in the corners of her eyes.

Willow: A-Achiues…? Is that you…?

Acheius: Hello, Willow, it’s me. It’s nice to see you again.

Willow: Acheius… Jun… W-Why are you here? How did you get in here at that?

Juniper: Klein let us in, and we’re here because we needed to talk with you.

Willow: A-About what…?

Juniper: About…

Acheius: Jun… I think we better sober her up first before we ask her anything. She’s not in a good mind set to answer our questions.

Juniper: You’re right… we best get you out of here then, Willow. Besides, I don’t like being here, this place feels like it’s been defiled with his taint.

Acheius: Can’t argue with that. Now, let’s get out of here before we accidentally come across that thing. Come here, Willow.

Willow: W-Wait…? What’s going on…?

Willow would have tried to fight them off, but she was too inebriated in her drunken state that she couldn’t put up a fight, and the gentle swaying of her body as, Acheius effortlessly carried her away swiftly let sleep fall across her as the duo stole her away.

~~~

The first sight, Willow saw when she woke up were bedsheets that were not her own, and yet they felt more comfortable than any other. She tiredly removed herself from her bed, feeling a soft texture upon her body, looking down she saw she was wearing pyjamas they were not her own, a deep rich violet that smelt like lilacs. She pounder at who these belonged to for a moment before she slowly got up, and made her way through the door.

As she passed through the door she heard the sound of food frying, and soft humming. As she came closer she saw her friend, Juniper give her a warm smile as she gestured for her to take a seat at the table. Nothing was said between the two as a cup of coffee was set down before her. Willow picked up the cup, and smelt the rich aroma of vanilla waft through her nostrils. She took a sip as her mind was filled with happier, simpler times.

Willow: You know… If I had woken up in my bed, I would have thought that seeing the two of you was a drunken hallucination. And, yet, here you are… But, why?

A plate of scrambled eggs, and well cooked sausages were placed before her before, Acheius sat next to his wife on the opposite side of the table.

Juniper: We’ll explain after you’ve eaten, okay?

Willow: Very well…

The trio soon started eating the only sound being heard was the scrapping of utensils on plate. They quickly finished their breakfast, and move to the couch with, Willow sitting in the middle, with the two, Arc’s sitting on either side of her.

Juniper: I know you have many questions to ask us, why we’re here, and why we well… kidnapped you, but before that I need to know how you’re feeling, Willow.

Willow sighed before she looked at her dearest friend with a tired smile.

Willow: My head aches from another hangover, and I feel exhausted… But, just having you here, Jun makes me feel worlds better.

Juniper smiled as she reassuringly squeezed her friends hand. Her hand soon left hers as she took a deep breath before she locked her gaze with her friend.

Juniper: Willow… We need to talk to you about something…

Willow: About what?

Juniper: Do you… Do you remember the night… The night we held your, Hen Night…?

A blush spread across, Willow’s face. She remembered that night. Juniper, and her friends had gotten together for her, ‘Hen Party.’ It was a wild, and boisterous night where they just danced the night away, and then in the evening, Juniper decided that the night wasn’t over for the two of them.

Juniper had drag, Willow to the hotel where her, and her husband were staying at, and decided that she should spend the night together. That the three of them should spend the night together intimately. Whether it was because of her inebriated state of mind, or how she was just swept up in the passion of the moment. She didn’t deny their advances, and looked back on that night as one of her fondest memories.

Willow: I remember… Even if we were quite drunk at the time, I do remember.

Juniper: G-Good… That’s good… Willow… That night the three of us got together happened twenty-three years ago. And, your oldest daughter… Winter Is now twenty-two years old now. So… Willow…

Willow: Yes?

Juniper: I-Is… Is, Winter…?

Juniper: …

Juniper: Is, Winter…!

Acheius: Jun, I need to be the one who asks her this.

Archeius smiled softly as he stared into, Willow’s eyes, he gently held her hand as he steadied his breathing before he asked her a question that he never thought he would have to ask.

Acheius: Willow… Winter… She isn’t, Jacques daughter is she, she really mine, isn’t she?

Willow’s eyes widened in fear as a sharp gasp was caught in her throat as she turned her away from, Acheius. He head hung low as she felt, Juniper hesitantly placed her hand on her back. She took a deep breath before she spoke.

Willow: I thought, we all thought, Winter was born prematurely, but she was a perfectly healthy baby so we thought nothing of it. But, when she was about one years old, she got sick so I took her to the hospital, during the checkup, they gave me a list of information… And, I discovered… Winter’s blood type is, O-.

Acheius: …

Juniper: W-What does that have to do with anything?

Willow: My blood type is, B+, Jacques blood type is also, B+… And, so is my other daughter, Weiss, and my son, Whitely.

Juniper: Okay…? I ask again: What does that have to do with anything?

Acheius: Juniper… Children often inherit their blood types from their parents.

Juniper: And…?

Acheius: My blood type… My blood type is O-.

Juniper: Wait…?!

Acheius: Winter Schnee is not, Jacques Gelés daughter… She’s my daughter.

Juniper’s eyes widened in shock as the knowledge settled in. Of course she was willing to accept the idea that, Winter could be, Acheius daughter, but to confirm that she actually was his. Well, how the duo would choose to act next would decide a great many things.

Acheius: Willow… Willow please look at me…

Willow slowly rose her head, tears welling up in her eyes as she revealed her face to, Acheius. A storm of shame blew across her heart as she feared the next words he would speak.

Acheius: Willow… Why didn’t you tell me, why didn’t you tell either of us for that matter? Were you scared how we would react to this?

Willow: You two just had your second child a few months before that night. You have been happily married for years. I didn’t… I couldn’t come between the two of you, and potentially ruin what the two of you have. So… I said nothing. No one, but me knew who the real father is, so… ‘The best way to keep a secret is to tell no one you have a secret…’ So, I did…

Juniper: Oh, Willow…

Willow turned to gaze upon her friend who softly smiled at her dear friend.

Juniper: Listen… It was me who said we should have a threesome in the first place. If your getting pregnant because of my husband is anyone’s, anyone’s fault it’s mine. And, if we knew you were pregnant with, Acheius’s kid back then, we would have taken responsibility.

Willow: You would have…?

Acheius: If I had know that I accidentally knocked you up, well, I would have barged in the middle of your wedding, screamed, ‘I object!’ Clocked, Jacques square in the face, picked you up, and ran off back home with you.

Willow: R-Really…?!

Acheius: Without a shadow of a doubt.

Willow: B-But, you two are married?! Y-You wouldn’t divorce, Juniper just to be with me!

Juniper: Meh. Polygamy is legal in, Vale. You would just be, Acheius second wife, and my first wife. No big deal.

Willow: Polygamy is legal in, Vale?

Juniper: Yep. Gotta keep the population up somehow.

Willow: How do you know this.

Juniper: I’ve been pushing my son to have a harem, and most of his potential harem partners at the moment happen to be his siblings. So I need to make sure the legality is not in the way of propagating the future, Arc legacy.

Willow: …

Willow: What…?

Acheius: Best ignore her, trust me, it easier that way.

Willow: So… If I was not married to, Jacques right now… What would you two do…?

Acheius: Well… I’m not really sure… I don’t know you as well as, Juniper does. But, you are the mother to my child. So, I would be willing to die to protect you, Willow. To protect you both.

Willow: You would…?

Acheius: Arc’s promise.

Willow smiled as a blush spread across her face. She knew that she couldn’t trust on her husband to do the same, he would probably leave her behind to die in fact to buy himself time to escape. So, the warm feeling that spread through her heart from his sincere words were the sign that she knew of the truth of this mans words.

Willow: And, what would you do, Juniper?

Willow turned to address her friend who smiled comfortingly as she gently grabbed her friends face, and pulled her close to plant a soft yet passionate kiss upon her dear friends lips. They stayed lip-locked for a while before, Juniper broke the kiss, smiling a smile of love that, Willow had never before seen.

Juniper: I would have shown you what true love is, and remind you everyday what love truly is.

Tears started falling down down, Willow’s face as she pulled in her dear friend for a deep hug as the duo basked in a warm embrace that soon grew more powerful as, Acheius, stood up, and knelt before the pair, wrapping his arms around them like a guardian angel watching over his loved ones.

The hug lasted for quite some time before the trio broke the hug, and separated themselves. Willow dapped away the tears with her hand, before she smiled at the pair. It was a smile filled withe hope, hope, and joy, a pair of emotions she had nearly forgotten during the course of her heartless marriage. But, with these two wonderful people besides her, she knew she would never lose this feeling again.

Willow: So, what do we do now?

Acheius: Well… There are many things we could do… Getting rid of, Jacquues, and getting control of the , SDC back to you would be a good place to start.

Juniper: We should ask, Jaune to help us with that. He could probably help us get away with murder if we let him do it.

Willow: M-Murder…?

Acheius: Possible, Highly possible… But, before we devise, Jacques ultimate downfall. There is one thing we must do first.

Juniper: What’s that?

Acheius knelt before, Willow, gently placing his hand in hers before staring deeply into her eyes.

Acheius: Willow… Can you introduce me to my estrange daughter?

#rwby #acheius arc #juniper arc #willow schnee #jacques schnee #weiss schnee #whitely schnee #jaune arc

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alexius-fr · 2 months

Text

Martyrs Waste Chapter 1: Dust and Ash

Sanguine, Silas and Khadiyah travel to the Waste to find Nerissa

_______________________________

The air was thick here, much more so than they had been used to before. Dense fog hid the land below them in a mystery of red and orange hues with the occasional sickly green bioluminescence shining through dimly. But the smell was familiar to Sanguine, who had always belonged here, no matter how far he had tried to run from that truth.

“How much farther?”

“We’ll get there when we get there!”

Silas wailed a pitiful cry of woe is me. “But my wings hurt!”

“Oh shush, you’ll be right at home there.” Khadiyah laughed as she ridiculed her mate. Sanguine, who flew ahead of them, couldn’t help but laugh.

“True, it is called the Martyrs Waste after all.” he chimed in, always down for a little jab at his dear brother. Silas groaned and rolled his eyes. “You two have no empathy! I’m getting old, you know!”

“Sanguine is older than you and he has not complained.” Khadiyah reminded Silas.

“Because we haven’t gone very far!” Sanguine agreed, picking up the pace to show his point. He might have been older, but he hadn’t lost his form yet. In fact, he probably looked healthier than he ever had. Years of Rowan’s care and love had left him in peak physical and mental shape. His hide was shiny, blood red and healthy despite it’s many scars. His wings beat as strongly as ever, his spikes were sharp and his eyesight- well, that was perhaps a little questionable, but it was good enough.

Sanguine saddened a bit at the thought of Rowan. His old mate had returned to the Wasteland’s embrace recently, ‘to slumber with the Plague Mother until they would be reunited and reborn together’, or so Rowan had phrased it. But Sanguine still had a part to play, lessons to teach and learn, and so here he was, honouring Rowan’s last request.

Go see Nerissa.

Apologize to her for pushing her away. She strove for his acceptance and he had cast her out. He would be lying if he said he hadn’t thought of doing this himself, but always there was something that would stop him from going, an excuse, a child that needed him more, an injury that prevented him from going, he had to hunt for food for them all, etcetera etcetera. And recently, taking care of Rowan had taken all his focus. Now though, there was nothing to justify not going any more. Rowan was gone, all his children had flown the nest. It was time he made amends with Nerissa, to avoid becoming his mother. To avoid her making the same mistakes he did.

Silas and Khadiyah had offered to accompany him, curious to see their niece once again. They had heard of her clan in the Martyrs Waste, an area that had been the site of many a battle in the past, not in the least between the Mother and her mortal enemy, the Gladekeeper. It was a place of great infamy, where Plague’s toughest dragons battled each other for the right to survive. Those who died in battle there were named martyr to the Plague Mother, though Sanguine was sceptical of this practice himself.

“There, the rock that looks like a mushroom!” Silas called with relief. “Finally!”

Sanguine said nothing, feeling nervous as they descended through the thick fog, Sand particles swept up into his face and battered his hide before they reached the floor, dust and sand kicking up as the three of them landed not far from their landmark. Though the air was thick, it felt welcoming as Sanguine breathed in deep, the scent of home.

Silas was also taking deep breaths, though it was more like he was gasping for air.

“Mother save me, I can’t breathe with this thick fog and sand in my nostrils!” he complained.

“Don’t be dramatic.” Khadiyah frowned and swept her tail up to whirl an extra load of sand Silas’ way. Silas coughed when he got some in his mouth, covering his face with his wing while Khadiyah laughed wickedly.

Sanguine took no notice of their antics behind him, taking in the environment. A huge rock formation towered before them, shaped somewhat like a mushroom. Specks of green luminescence shimmer through the dust, some kind of fungus? The sun behind the rock cast a large shadow through the sand and the fog, but it’s heat was still present, warming Sanguine’s deep red hide. He strode forwards carefully, looking around with purpose for a sign of any dragons other than them. So far, nothing. He turned his head to Silas and Khadiyah.

“Quiet you two. We have to consider the possibility we are not welcome here.” he reminded them.

“Right, because you were rude to her.” Silas said, deadpan. Khadiyah grinned in unison with Silas, like the little shit she was. “He’s got a point.”

Sanguine sighed, quietly shaking his head before moving ahead.

A natural arch big enough to accommodate a large Guardian stood before them, but beyond that he could see nothing but a turmoil of swirling sand. Still, he knew he was in the right place. He could smell his daughter’s distinct scent, sense her presence.

“Stay here.”

Sanguine said the words to Silas and Khadiyah sternly, then proceeded into the thick wall of red sand before him. It battered him, blinded him, all of those things he had expected, but he had not expected the fluorescent green light to pierce through the sand as if a great eye had locked it’s gaze upon him.

The green light was just enough to project a silhouette through the dust on top of the rock. It was far away, but Sanguine recognized the silhouette as an Aberration dragon. When she spoke, it sounded like two voices at once spoke in unison, echoing between the rocky walls.

“I knew you would come.”

#fr #flight rising #fr lore #flight rising lore #long post

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invisibleraven · 6 months

Note

A firm hand grabbing the other’s elbow to guide them for Sweet Tarts

"Carrie! Carrie!"

The starlet waved at the crowd of screaming fans, smiling brightly at them as she passed. Ignoring those who pleaded for a selfie or an autograph-one too many bad experiences where fans tried to grab her too close, yank at her hair, scratch at her skin. One overzealous fellow even tried to steal a kiss!

So it sucked, and maybe it gave her the reputation of a snob, but it kept her safe, and able to continue making music and movies for them, so the true fans never faltered.

She stopped for the press though-they were the lifeblood of her career as much as her talent, keeping her fresh and relevant even when she felt stalled or less than. Sure they were also her harshest critics, but the supporters always outweighed the dissenters.

But today, maybe it was the questions regarding her latest flop, or low blood sugar, or the pounding in her temples as the hundred flashbulbs popped. Either way her smile faltered, and she went off to the side, out of view just to take a moment.

Carrie loved her life, she really did, but there were times she longed to just be a regular girl with a regular life. A good guy on her arm, dates without the paps scoping it out, a dull job that no one cared about.

Suddenly there was a firm hand on her elbow, and Carrie tried to yank it back only to be met with the stern look of her personal security, Reggie. "We have to keep moving Miss Wilson, it's not secure here."

Carrie nodded, letting him usher inside the venue, and into a private atrium. "You okay?" he asked.

"Got to be a bit too much," Carrie said, sipping from the flute of champagne she had grabbed on the way in. "Needed a sec."

"I get that," Reggie offered her an understanding smile. He had been in the life before, a fairly successful musician who had a bad encounter with a fan and gave it up. Now he strove to keep people safe from similar situations. Sure he didn't look imposing, but Reggie had a surprising amount of muscles under his suit, and knew how to use an impressive array of weaponry.

He even offered to teach Carrie how to use the sai swords-something he picked up due to a love of Ninja Turtles-and she proved to be pretty good with them as well.

However, he cared about her, and she knew he only wanted to keep her safe. Even if she didn't pay him an insane amount of money to do so, Carrie got the feeling he'd do it anyways. Reggie was a good egg.

So much so that she often brought him to events as arm candy, so people wouldn't pick up on her need for a bodyguard, and Reggie played the role happily. To the point where sometimes she questioned how fake it was.

But she couldn't think like that-Reggie was her friend, yes. But he was also her employee, and responsible for keeping her safe. No matter how well he filled out a suit or made her laugh, or understood why she still hadn't made a move to go find her seat.

Crap.

Carrie looked at Reggie, that same smile still on his face, the warm look in his eyes, and she knew-she was gonna have to hire a different bodyguard.

But maybe Reggie wouldn't mind an upgrade to being her for real boyfriend all that badly.

Turns out? He didn't mind at all.

#filled prompts #ficlet #jatp sweet tarts #julie and the phantoms

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yujo-nishimura · 5 months

Text

The Escape - Part 26

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11 - Part 12 - Part 13 - Part 14 - Part 15 - Part 16 - Part 17 - Part 18 - Part 19 - Part 20 - Part 21 - Part 22 - Part 23 - Part 24 - Part 25

After he ended this speech and the crew members were determined to not only escape Baroque works, but also fight them in case they would try to pursue you all again, Buggy stepped towards you, asking you to come to his cabin. You hoped he couldn't see from your face what you had been thinking the whole time.

The tension between you and Buggy was almost unbearable as he sat on his chair and you just stood with your back against his door. The sense of disconnection between the two of you lingered, and it seemed that every attempt to mend the relationship and create a healthier dynamic only served to reinforce its toxicity and strangeness. Each time you strove to bridge the gap and find common ground, one or both of you succumbed to the overwhelming power of emotions. "How is your hand?" the captain asks, his voice pulling you back to the present moment. You shift your gaze towards your hand, which is still wrapped in bandages, a reminder of the injury you had inflicted on yourself amidst all the chaos. “It is fine. I have forgotten that I actually had an injury.” You answer honestly. He seems to be satisfied with this and nods.

“Thank you for coming out and rescuing me.”

“I could say the same, Captain.” “May I ask now, why are the marines and Baroque works after you? I know we had this conversation before and you are somehow hesitant.. but I feel if I have a crew member on board where I am not the only one who considered her valuable I might have the right to know why others think the same,..”

"I believe the reasons why the Marines and an assassination syndicate find me intriguing might be quite different from what you perceive as valuable," you say, a playful tone lacing your words. Sensing an opportunity to lighten the mood, you decide to employ a flirtatious joke, taking a slow and deliberate step closer to the captain.

Buggy's eyes widen, caught off guard by your sudden approach. He quickly rises to his feet, his expression shifting from surprise to seriousness.

“Y/n. Please, just try to be honest here with me. Is this something you can share or shall I never ask again and just accept that I have a potential danger on board…?”

You sit down on his bed, the comfortable pillow and sheets push back against you, you crave for a comfortable sleeping place like this since your hammock is not the best place to get rest in.

“Sit down again and I will tell you.”, you breathe out heavily, looking into his deep green eyes, you want to feel these eyes on your forever and you want him to trust you and know more about you than anyone else. You feel ready to let him into your life. More than ever before. Buggy listens, sitting down, his face full of anticipation.

“When I was still in Windmill village and Luffy was still small and innocent, I was 5 years older than him and already in trouble with the world government and the marines.”

Buggy just looks at you, he does not interrupt you now, giving you the time to share your story.

“In fact I was the leader of a rebellious army, nothing serious, just the things you do as a teenager when you are charismatic enough to gather some people around you and if you feel like you want to make a change.”

You cannot endure his gaze any longer and you rest your eyes on your own bandaged hand for a while.

“We were unhappy with the tax collector in Windmill village. I had started a peaceful protest and a campaign against him, although he was sent directly by the world government we thought he was taxing us too much, he came too frequently and the people who had less always had to pay more. It was just a way of terrorizing the oppressed and poor…”

You sigh again, it seemed like this had happened a long long time ago somewhere else, not in the world you lived in now.

“One of my fellow revolutionary members took the whole thing too seriously. I think he also wanted to impress me. His own family was especially affected by this, he was one of the poorest kids in the village and his frustration eventually turned into rage. One day he decided to kill the tax collector in our name and as I tried to stop him, I realized that his anger was beyond my control.”

You gaze at Buggy once more, your eyes filled with sincerity and earnestness.

"He waited for the collector at his house and killed him brutally with a knife. We later discovered that he was not only dispatched by the World Government, but he was also a high-ranking Marine general. Once I learned of this, the World Government began to pursue me as well, as I was the leader of the entire movement," you recount, your voice carrying the weight of the injustice that befell you.

Buggy, with his head slightly tilted, has been attentively listening to your narrative. Now he quickly interrupts you: "But was there no trial? Did they not realize that you were not responsible for these actions?"

You let out a slow, weary sigh. "No," you respond, your voice tinged with sadness. "This individual left a note in his house, claiming that I had inspired him to commit this heinous act. They couldn't find him. Some speculate that he fled on a ship the same day, while others believe he took his own life. Regardless, it does not matter to the World Government who will be punished. They simply require someone to blame, someone to execute."

The absence of a fair trial, the absence of an opportunity to prove your innocence, highlights the unforgiving nature of the World Government's pursuit. You and Buggy both understand the unyielding determination of those in power to find a scapegoat and impose their brand of justice.

Buggy gets up from his chair now, walking towards you and sitting down next to you on the bed. You can feel the warmth of his body, being so close to you you start to feel dizzy again.

“This is why I decided to become a pirate. If I am an outlaw and wanted anyway, then…”

Your voice breaks because Buggy has put his hand on your knees, a very innocent gesture. He did not want to interrupt you, but he also wanted to show his support.

Curiosity fills his eyes as he gently asks, "But if you're wanted, why have I never come across your wanted poster?"

You take a moment to steady yourself, feeling the closeness between you making it difficult to find the right words. With Buggy being so near, you muster the courage to respond, "Different name, different hairstyle." It's a brief explanation, but in this intimate space, it is enough to convey the lengths you've gone to conceal your true identity.

#one piece #buggytheclown #buggy the clown x reader #one piece buggy #buggy x reader #buggy x you #long fanfic #long reads #nanowrimo 2023

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dollsome-does-tumblr · 7 months

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OFMD 2.01-2.03 thoughts!

Spoilers aplenty!

I've only watched the episodes the once so far so I'm sure I'm gonna forget a lot of stuff, but I can contain myself no longer, and must speak!

Oh man, I am SO EXCITED. I couldn't sleep because trying to go to bed with this many fictional feelios crackling away inside of me was just impossible, like I'd chugged a crazy amount of caffeine. This is also exactly how I felt the night that 1.09 and 1.10 aired, so it felt so fitting. (Ironically, I'm writing this before I have my caffeine today because I can wait no longer, so it might make no sense. But I have to try!)

I've watched season one soooooo many times -- like, every episode is just completely scored upon my psyche, I basically have the whole thing memorized -- so it felt so WILD to finally be getting MORE and it was REAL! This also reminded me of how the season one finale was perhaps the most upset I've ever been about television, outside of unjust character deaths, HIMYM, etc. -- like, upset in a way where it was narratively thrilling to be so upset, for a change! But the emotional distress of that ending obviously settled down a bit to me once I'd watched the episode for the zillionth time and just really got used to what happened to Ed. That initial shock wore off. So picking up where that episode left off and spending these episodes really bearing witness to him still being in that place was SO VISCERALLY UPSETTING AND WILD AND GREAT!!!!!! Oh my God, Taika Waititi. Aaaaaacting!!!!

Everything just being darker, richer, so unhinged was really thrilling -- we can't really go back to the sort of affable placidity of a lot of season one, or at least not right now, and it just felt really appropriate for where the story is and like a really natural growth to the tone. I think it also really had a sense of exuberance powered by how lovingly received season one was, which just felt great to watch.

The gorgeous New Zealand landscapes, oh my God!!!! And how fitting it feels, now that it's not Stede playing at pirates so much as everything being Really God Damn Real, that the physical world has expanded so much around them and there's so much more of a sense of sublime natural beauty.

STEDE WAS A MERMAN!!!!!! sorry, getting ahead of myself here. But my God, I am so obsessed with the fact that they just went for that moment. It's camp! It's achingly beautiful! It's The Shape of Water, it's Splash, it's Zoolander, it's a reverse Killing Eve that my soul sorely needed! Kate Bush was there! They almost kissed under the water! ED'S LOVE FOR STEDE INTERRUPTED HIS DESIRE TO DIE! AUGHHHHHH.

I'm really, really sad that my internet gave out right in the middle of that sequence. I just feel so bummed that I'll never experience it for the first time the way David Jenkins & Co. intended because technology betrayed me! I will never have known the emotional build of that moment the way it was meant to be seen. 😢 But oh well! I'm dealing with it! I'm being so brave! (I'm always extremely weird about wanting fiction to have the exact impact on me that the creators strove for it to, and it really bothers me when it gets interrupted somehow. But at least, you know, it was just THIS, the show and romance I currently care most about in the WORLD!)

Anyway: the handholding and how it mirrors Ed putting his hand over Stede's and that close-up in 1.04! YES! What a shot to end the episode on, sob sob sob!

I also loved the two close-ups of Ed's eyes, at the start of the wedding rampage and then when he wakes up. Parallels! Yesss!!!

I know we all kinda expected it to happen for the whole hiatus, but that doesn't diminish at all the pure joy and unhingedness of Stede's total love for Ed never wavering even at the news that Ed's rampaging his way across the high seas in a state of total derangement. If that's a dealbreaker, then that's not love! They made him look like a GHOUL!

I really liked the tension between Stede and Lucius because that was something I hadn't really thought to expect. And Stede giving Lucius jaded life advice! Yes!

Sidenote: Lucius, alive? Who could have possibly seen it coming??? (Also, his reunion with Pete, 🥹🥹🥹!)

I also just generally loved getting to see the crew again and all of their antics together figuring out their circumstances. I missed you all so much!!!

MORE LADIES YESSSSS! I love Archie!!!!! I love Zheng!!!! I love Auntie!!!!! And I loved getting to see Spanish Jackie living her best life again! Such a joy to have so many hilarious badass women around. I am living for them all.

The romantic quadrangle stuff popping up with Olu and Jim was great fun on all sides (even if I had to watch makeouts while Jim was holding a recently severed leg; please, set aside the leg!), and I also loved how Jim told Olu about it right away and just the sweet vibes between them in their reunion scene, aww. Looking forward to seeing whatever happens there.

In particular, Zheng crushing on Olu was so cute and like, who can blame her?? History's greatest pirate: she's just like us! Omg, what an enemy for them to have now.

Also, Jim doing the voices for Fang FOREVER!!!!! Such a sweet moment! And Jim's speech about how sweet life on The Revenge used to be and how happy they all were together absolutely tore my heart out. Because yeah!!! I feel like we the audience members were part of that crew too!!! WE HAVE TO GO BACK, KATE!!!

I had vowed to hate Izzy forever, I held steadfast to my vow for all those hiatus months, and then these three episodes were like, "Ha ha, yeah right!" Magnificently played, ya bastards!!! You got me! I especially loved when he said to Stede that the two of them made Ed into what he became; that was so interesting and I'm really curious to see how Stede and Izzy's dynamic grows. Iz, I am so sorry about your many toes and then your leg. Wishing you the coolest peg leg.

Random sidenote: when Auntie was like, "Buttons is a sea witch contained in the body of a mortal man," I was 100% like ... That makes so much sense, actually??? I, for one, am a believer. Is this why you can speak seagull, sir/sea witch?

The whole sequence with Ed and Dream Hornigold in episode 3 was so good, aughhhhh! And THE RETURN OF JEFF. I love how on some level Ed just wants to work in the hospitality industry. Let! Him! And! Stede! Retire! And! Open! Their! Inn! Slash! Snakery! Snackery!

I am so excited that we have post-credits episode tags now. As if this show could get any more exquisite. IT DID. Now there's always just a lil' nibble more!

I love how, just like in season one, we got our Ed/Stede-less time out of the way quick by having the first three eps all air together. And now, let us sail perilously further into feelings land!

I have so much more to say but I'm so tired and I need black tea. I'm sure I'll be back later today with a zillion more belated thoughts! PEACE! 🧜‍♂️

Also, just a few Cinematic New Zealand Beach Vibes notes -- the opening dream sequence had me like, "Xena and Gabrielle at the end of 'The Bitter Suite'!"* and Ed waking up in beach purgatory had me like, "THE PIANO!" I just had to share. Idk why. Have I mentioned how happy I am that season two gets to be in New Zealand??

*Idk if this is in any way deliberate, but I firmly maintain that Ed/Stede has a lotta roots in Xena/Gabrielle. Like, if you ever feel like the universe simply can't give you enough Ed/Stede (understandable), then you should watch Xena for a lot of similar shippy emotional thrills. OFMD had better give us a nicer ending, tho. (Today I learned from a D. Jenks interview that Blackbeard historically got beheaded!!)

Okay, time to go stare at a million gifsets.

#dollsome's deep thoughts #our flag means death #ofmd spoilers #ofmd reaction post

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ikemenomegas · 1 year

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First of all, thank you for making this blog!! Its always a pleasure to have more omega!character blogs here hehe. Really really excited and looking forward to your all your hcs and drabbles 😊

Could I request for itachi and izuna, perhaps how they met their alpha and what made them fall in love? Ty!! 🤍

Hello,

Sorry for making you wait for a reply! I wanted to get to a point in Izuna's fic that it was obvious what was going to happen before I answered, and then I realized I hadn't thought about how Itachi might meet his alpha. Sometimes we like the fluffy stuff and my brain had jumped right over "first meetings" and the hardships of a forming relationship to "domestic/mated" hc's. Here's what I came up with after a few days of thinking it over:

Itachi

When there is a strong enough tie, there is no single way to meet someone who's fate crosses paths with yours

Itachi meets his alpha twice

The first time, you were students in the academy. He was well admired by most of the other students, including the person who would be come his alpha

Even though he graduated early, the alpha stayed friendly with him and asked him how he knew to solve certain problems so quickly - essentially their admiration and friendship became such that the alpha used Itachi as a baseline of success and strove for a level of success that emulated their perceptions of him

When Itachi kills his clan and leaves the village, the alpha doesn't believe that the rumors are telling the whole truth. Itachi never did anything without a reason.

If the Alpha is nosy enough (which they are), they probably find out enough of the truth to either get in trouble and have to flee for safety or simply decide to go find Itachi on their own just like when they were kids, knowing that there's maybe no way home. The Alpha wants to know if their assessment of the situation is correct (but also... the kind of person who would put Itachi through something like this is no one you want to serve)

Itachi's second first meeting is when they're both different people and the Alpha shows up while he and Kisame are wandering around.

"I know what happened," you say. Landing right in front of two Akatsuki members is not the best idea you've ever had, but you're not as scared as you thought you would be. The Hidden Mist shinobi, notable for how he's almost a head and a half taller than Itachi and looks like a shark, catches sight of you and grins. You tear your gaze away from him. You're probably going to die anyways, doesn't matter if it's going to be him or how he's going to do it. "Do you now?" Itachi's eyes and his voice are colder than you remember. You shrug. You made peace with the ways this could go last night. "As much as anyone ever knows anything, based upon their own assumptions." Itachi huffs, you'd almost call it a laugh with how similar it is to the sound he would make every time the two of you had done this in the past. "And what are you assumptions?" he asks, mocking. "That I couldn't be the one to do it?" "That maybe there weren't any other good options." You cocked your head to the side, the same direction Itachi's partner was standing. "Do you really want to do this on the road?" Itachi's eyes were already activated, and it was between one heartbeat and the next that you and he were standing alone, wind bending the grass along the road. You're not sure when he cast the genjustu. It could have been the moment you showed up, it could have been after you began to speak, but he's made it obvious, which at least means he's listening.

Alpha lays out what they've figured out from studying village history, listening to what is said between villagers and other shinobi, and mostly tracking the village's power plays.

Honestly it's not much, since the reality was made of so many secret pieces. The theory mostly started based on the Alpha's confidence that Itachi didn't have the necessary pride to actually kill everyone except his brother as a skill test.

In this case the lack of publicly available knowledge about the sharingan and how it can be activated and passed down worked out in your favor.

Ultimately, they just want to know if he committed the massacre because of an order or a personal issue, although the extremity of his actions makes them suspect it was an order. They also can't figure out who of the elders it could come from. And hey, did he know that there's kids disappearing from the village all the time, doesn't that seem like a huge problem?

Itachi is super exasperated even if his face doesn't do anything. He's supposed to do this alone, not get confronted with the confidence of someone he used to know.

Itachi tries to warn them off, but does admit that the dark side of the village (Danzo) probably has them on a radar by now. Better to let you tag along. At least he can keep an eye on you this way. It wouldn't do for his secrets to get out if you've figure it out. He can always kill you later.

"You aren't getting sentimental on me, are you Itachi?" his companion asks. Itachi blinks, his sharingan fading away. "You can say something when you learn how to cook, Kisame."

Kisame feels offended. There's nothing wrong with raw fish 24/7/365. Does Itachi know how expensive sashimi is when you don't do it yourself?

This new version of Itachi is depressing and depressed. He's not just quiet, he's silent, which is creepy when he sneaks up on you one too many times when you have to move camp further into the woods (you and he are probably 16-17 at this point and the Uchiha have a problem)

He's willing to suffer because he thinks he deserves it and low key makes the first few weeks of camping Worse than necessary to try and get you to leave. But eventually he does let you travel with him, as long as you stay out of sight.

He ends up helping you fake your death (if you didn't already do a good job yourself) after noticing a Root member in a town you've been to with them before and coming up with an excuse for Pain so that Deidara and Hidan the others aren't allowed to kill you on sight.

Itachi falls in love with his Alpha slowly. Honestly the two of them don't realize they've sort of been courting until Kisame points out how much stuff they have in this one sealing scroll and that none of it is his thank you very much.

Which ensures the sort of sibling-like bickering between the Alpha and Kisame that "the scroll doesn't even weigh anything for you, why are you complaining" and he catches himself hiding a smile in his collar and he sort of realizes that he's grown both familiar and comfortable around you.

Not only is he comfortable, he no longer views you as a threat, he feels safe when you're around, there's a reason all the trinkets you've brought one another that aren't edible are in that scroll and it's that he wants them, he wants you around, in a way he hasn't allowed himself to want anything for years.

He likes that you believed in him, he didn't know how much that would mean until he had it.

It makes him feel guilty but also somehow important that this is also an Alpha that, although maybe not intentionally, lost everything looking for him, and is consistently devoted to his comfort and respectful of his boundaries while also somehow drawing him little by little out of the shell he'd built around his heart when he killed almost everyone he was ever told he should love.

He loves that you invent your own little missions in every town they stop in (they're silly things sometimes, other times more complicated and have to do with you finding more ways to protect yourself so Itachi doesn't have to worry about you when you travel)

He thinks it's sweet that the crows he sends to travel with you all end up with a name (... it's the same name, you just call them karasu because "you should call something what it is and it's a crow, Itachi") and sit in the hood of your cloak

When it doesn't annoy him (because you're right) he likes that you say things the way they are, the bluntness is refreshing and different from the way Kisame likes to play with metaphors and thinly veiled hints

Izuna

Izuna meets his Alpha the day they get married

The warring states period is dangerous and messy and people die from things other than war. Izuna was engaged to his Alpha's elder sister (who was a beta) since before he presented as part of a main clan to branch-clan marriage. When she died, her younger sibling, who was an Alpha and who he had never seen before in person or in paintings, is put forth as her replacement.

The ceremony was already scheduled, the dowries (in this case the gifts the mates give each other for they and their families to use) were both prepared, even the clothing was all ready, so the temples just redid Izuna and the Alpha's birth charts and chose the next date that was close to the original

He's nervous during the ceremony because he doesn't know this alpha. Alphas fight in the war, and every amab child is also trained to fight on a battlefield (as opposed to afab kids who are also taught to fight, but more so they have some means of self defense and this has to do with how male omegas can't be identified until they present in adolescence) but there's still stereotypes around how alphas treat omegas

He's one of the Uchiha's best fighters, war is stressful, the Uchiha (of which he is one) are stressful, the daimyo is stressful and annoying. Izuna is very stressed. And he's getting mated and married before Madara does, so he's stressed about doing something before brother in the way that younger siblings get about that sort of thing (smug and also nervous)

But the ceremony is nice, normal, he sneaks glances at you throughout and is at least glad you comport yourself well

Izuna falls in love with his alpha's respect. They don't ask anything of him the first night, or any of the nights they are traveling back to the main compound. They leave that first step to him

In my naruto omegaverse, there's a potential benefit to alpha-omega pairings (beta-omega and beta-alpha pairs might also get this benefit but it's one-sided in favor of the beta and still isn't a guaranteed part of the bond), which is that upon consensually submitting to the mating mark, the alpha-omega pair have a better sense of one anothers' location and have better coordination with one another over all because of it. For battle-pairs this could provide an incredible edge.

Because no one except his brother and Tobirama have ever been able to keep up with him in a fight, Izuna is a little more interested in a second effect, which is that alpha-omega pairs who are well bonded (usually has to include emotionally aligned) have a slight but documented increase in base power level. For Uchiha for whom love (and fear of loss/hate after loss) is sort of the thing that fuels them, this is a little bit more than average. (There's a whole thing about how the organ associated with fire in eastern medicine is the heart and how fire is the Uchiha element etc etc)

So not gonna lie, he's a little in love with the power that mating gets him, but he's also a little proud that he and his mate have the kind of bond that does that.

But he also loves how they care for the clan. His Alpha was trained in chakra control and has taken on roles as a field medic in the past. They also have natural sensory abilities that were honed in the years before they joined the battlefield. They use these skills to look out for the clan in a way that Izuna can't, or cover for place he can't be, which makes him very happy.

They also try to keep up with him regarding field skills, which he finds and endearing and encourages. He loves that his Alpha wants to stand by his side. By the time he and his Alpha have been mated for about two years, they're able to take most missions together. The only thing he will not permit is for his Alpha to be on the front lines with him when they are fighting the Senju, because inevitably when Hashirama or Tobirama are there, the other is not far, and he and Madara must go together in order to meet them.

He also loves how they understand how being an Omega complicates his life as a key fighter for the clan. If there is a "moment" when he realizes how much he could come to love this Alpha, it's when they help him end his heat early using a safe herbal tincture so that he can go to battle without the handicap of needing to ignore it, rather than pushing for him to spend it with them.

Izuna and his Alpha's relationship is largely built on the two of them listening to one anothers' needs and figuring out how to meet them.

part 1 of their fic is linked here!

#thank you for the first ask!#🤍 anon #itachi uchiha #uchiha itachi #izuna uchiha #uchiha izuna #omega!itachi #omega!izuna #naruto #a/b/o dynamics #omegaverse #hc's #ask answered #alpha!reader

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voidnoidoid · 7 months

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Donald Na: Undefeatable, A Weak Hero Character Analysis

(Note, this is based off the currently released free chapters, so no fast pass spoilers here! Spoilers for those who aren't fully caught up yet.)

After reading the conclusion of the Eunjang v Union fight, I had some thoughts about who Donald is, why he became the way he is now, and more thoughts about how the fight ended and his parallels with Gray. Apologies if this becomes rambly im just writing off the top of my head. To begin with,

Who Is Donald?

From the very beginning of Weak Hero, Donald Na has been set up as the big bad, the final boss, the overarching antagonist. He is the sole mastermind behind the Union, controlling it from above in his luxurious office, only descending to force rebellion back in line much like he did with Ben and Myles. He was established as cruel, cunning, intelligent and menacing; but most important of all: untouchable.

Time and time again we see Donald's sheer strength forcing even the most powerful of fighters into submission. He's both the brains and the brawn, with incredible charisma to boot. He's the sovereign ruler of the Yeungdeungpo region. It's clear he hasn't seen a real challenge in some time. Until the final fight, us readers have never seen Donald so much as break a sweat, even in his (one sided) fight against Changhui Han.

He's got everything planned out, nothing seems to phase him and he is adaptable to any plan, seeing as he worked around all the setbacks Eunjang threw at him.

However, Donald's many layers have been peeled back, allowing us to glimpse moments of a troubled childhood that explain why Donald is the undefeatable monster he is now.

Why Is Donald?

Based on the short flashbacks of Donald's childhood, (as of right now more fleshed out episodes are being released but I haven't caught up yet) he grew up in poverty with an abusive father and sickly mother. He is seen wearing tattered clothes and was gaunt and scrawny. Another was of his getting his school reports scattered on the ground, meaning he was bullied by his peers despite being one of the top scorers in his class or the entire school. At one point he was driven to desperation and broke into a bakery just to eat. This explains why he likes eating bread so much.

Donald grew up with nothing. No money, no respect, no friends, no food, not even a loving family. Despite trying the best he could in school, he could never be equals with anyone, in fact the seem to look down on him more for doing so well whilst not having financial stability. Because he grew up with nothing, he strove to obtain everything.

Donald went from dressing in rags, to wearing branded goods from head to toe. He went from having no support system, to creating an army of thugs to serve under him: The Union. He went from being powerless, to having an entire region under his thumb, manipulating everyone from kids to adult business owners. No longer was he the scrawny little boy but now a powerful, cunning, imposing presence.

It was all calculated. In a recent episode, Donald himself mentioned that he did everything he could to not only look the part, but play the part of big bad mastermind. He got tattoos all over his body to seem more intimidating, he beat down every enemy to strike fear in them, he created a steady source of income to keep his goons loyal, not just by threat of violence but also money.

To me, Donald seems like someone who tried desperately to reach the top so that nobody could ever hurt him again. And he succeeded, at what cost?

Is It Lonely On the Top? Eunjang vs The Union

Now that he's gotten everything he wanted, did it make him happy? Perhaps it did, perhaps it didn't. With almost everything under his thumb, it is only natural that Donald craved a challenge, whether unconsciously or not. Hence, when Eunjang high started making a move, it became new motivation for Donald to keep going.

Of course, Donald already had plans with his many businesses but Eunjang proved to be a source of amusement, then annoyance, then rising to be a legitimate threat. As Eunjang toppled more of Donald's executives and cemented itself as a group to be taken seriously, Donald's empire began to crumble. With one single variable, many of Donald's plans had a wrench thrown in them. He grew complacent at his spot in the top. Long he had gone without a worthy challenger that he took his power for granted. Little did he know, Ben was building up strength to face him head on once more, together with a certain white mamba.

Not everything could be under Donald's control. Case in point: the Eugene Incident. Because of one careless mistake from one of the company shareholders who approved Eugene's design without thinking, the flaws in the companies Donald had a stake in were exposed and a large portion of profits went down the drain. To make matters worse, he sent Dongha out only to capture Eugene and bring the boy to him, but Dongha ended up beating him to a pulp and facing the wrath of Gray Yeon, escalating the incident further and provoking Ben's wrath even more for real. The Eugene Incident was the catalyst for the big war between the Union and Eunjang.

All this time, the Union had been weakening. Wolf and Philip turned tail and sided with Eunjang for their personal reasons, and Jake wanted to resign from the Union for good. Donald was losing more and more manpower. This escalated into the massive Union v Eunjang war to end all gang wars. However, this was all a backdrop for Donald's main fight: between Ben Park. Leader vs Leader. However yet again, Donald would not get what he wanted, all because of one of his closest allies: Kingsley Kwan.

Kingsley is a curious character who's only been shown as Donald's right hand and most trusted confidant. His backstory has yet to been revealed but clearly, he is very important to Donald and only has his best interests at heart. Kingsley is the closest thing Donald has to a friend. Yet, Kingsley unintentionally betrayed Donald by kidnapping Ben Park, taking away the fight Donald wanted most. Donald lost trust in his closest companion, and lost the chance for a fair fight with the one person he thought had a chance of taking him down.

This brings into account what Jake said at the end of the big fight: that deep down, Donald wanted to be defeated. Donald wanted someone to challenge him, to fight against his tyranny and show him the taste of failure. On the surface, it would seem that Donald only wanted to fight Ben just to crush him and show everyone who's boss, but I believe that deep down, Donald really wanted this to all end. His motives are unknown thus far but I think it has something to do with Gray.

To tie up this (kinda disjointed) section, Donald's newfound power and domination only isolated him from forming any meaningful connection with others. His desire for defeat and victory conflicted with each other, but I think he only realised what he truly wanted when he finally fought with Gray.

Donald Na vs Gray Yeon: Two Sides of the Same Coin

These two are shown to have interesting parallels with each other, going so far back as to have Jake comment on the similarities between them.

Both Donald and Gray are shown to have a lust for power and love for the thrill of fighting. Donald fights to cement himself as the strongest, and Gray fights to teach bullies a lesson, and to protect those he cares about. Gray slowly develops a dark bloodlust, which he hones as his deadly precise and calculated fighting strategy. Donald let his bloodlust consume him in his rise to power and control.

They are also similar in their intelligence, planning and problem solving skills. Both make plans and like it when events happen according to predictions. Donald makes lengthy schemes and manipulates people behinds the scenes, getting angry when things don't go according to plan. Gray only fights when he is certain he will win, with the exception of his Wolf beatdown. Gray analyses his opponents and "studies up" so he can have every advantage to beat them, making up for his lack of physical strength. Donald relies on his superior strength and cunning to carry him through fights, to which he has become complacent but he can adapt on the fly too.

The two have also battled in their academic prowess, duelling each other in creating and solving math problems. Usually, the questions are formulated by Donald, and Gray comes up with solutions to solve them. Notably, the questions set by Donald are complex and mind boggling, but Gray comes up with a creative and straightforward way of solving them. This implies that since they have a similar way of thinking, Gray could easily see a path through the problem. Or on the other hand, Gray is more innovative, creating a new way of problem solving that even surprised Donald. This battle of intellect has been Donald's way of getting to know Gray. Donald's statement at his final math problem was "this is the last time we play together, white mamba." Implying that all this time, Donald was toying with and testing Gray's capability, yet also enjoying the mental exercise and anticipating their in-person meeting.

Personally, I think that the key difference between Gray and Donald is the presence of a Stephen. Or... Friends. Gray's backstory shows that before Stephen came into his life, he was just drifting. An empty shell that kept searching for something, anything to fill the void in his heart. Gray lacked a purpose, endlessly consuming random knowledge and "studying like an idiot." Stephen was a welcome friend, a light in Gray's darkness, and became the purpose for Gray to keep living. Stephen became Gray's catalyst to change the world around him and stop standing by. Since Stephen made an effort to change his surroundings for the better, Gray decided to do the same, albeit in a more violent, cold manner.

Both Gray and Donald are connected by the concept of "absence" or "lacking". While Gray wasn't financially struggling, his parents weren't around and he didn't have friends. He lacked emotional connection with others, and lacked a purpose for living, thus creating that empty void within him. Gray became motivated by friendship to create a better environment for himself and his friends. Donald on the other hand lacked safety, security and power, so this became his personal purpose to rise above everyone and have the control he lacked as a child. However, he lacked FRIENDS, those other people he could count on emotionally.

Gray made new friends who he cares about and who care about him, but Donald sits atop a lonely throne, having nobody but himself he could fully depend on, since everyone around him disappointed him in one way or another. He has no equal, not even Kingsley. That was who Donald was looking for: a friend, an equal.

Donald made this realisation during his fight against Gray, who repeatedly outsmarted him using cunning tricks, who was the only one brave enough to take him on aside from Ben, and who was the other contender who pushed him to the brink. Ben made Donald realise the fear of losing, but Gray made him realise what he was chasing after this whole time. He thinks to himself, near the end of the fight that in another life, if things played out differently, could he and Gray have been friends? This means that Gray is the one he finally saw as equal to him, the one he wanted to befriend. He found someone who could potentially understand him, but circumstances pit them against each other. And when he beat Gray, any hope of potential connection was shattered.

Donald's Defeat: Last Man Standing

Technically, Donald won the fight against Ben and Gray, and against Eunjang. On paper, this is a huge win for the Union. Logically, this would mean that Donald could further his conquest and rise even higher on the chain of power. However... this ended up being the Union's loss overall. Donald wanted someone to beat him, he wanted someone to take him down a peg, he wanted a true equal in strength, character, ideals, which Ben and Gray had combined. (Ben's sheer power and Gray's character) But after Donald won, there wasn't any point in going on. He knew he was the strongest, but he wanted to be proven wrong. Now there is no chance of anyone who could take him down anymore.

The Union was just a means to an end, a method of accruing more power and wealth, all of which has lost its meaning for Donald. Hence Donald essentially put the Union on hold. His unrivalled might is still evident as he beat the piss out of Myles Joo and his cronies while severely injured. But mentally, he's destroyed. He's lost his purpose and meaning and snapped.

So what does he do? He tries again by seeking out Gray. In a semi-crazed delusion he calls out to Gray from below an overhead bridge for them to fight again. Only then could he relive that sense of connection and rekindle the hope of defeat. Gray and the eunjang gang are understandably shocked... but Donald is too fascinated with Gray to care. He just wants to fight again, to understand Gray even more.

Then he got hit by a truck (Donald isekai when?). The only thing that could take down Donald wasn't even a person but a whole vehicle.

In the end, Eunjang lost the fight but won the war, as Donald became demoralised and shut down Union activity. Donald lost, as he lost what he desired most (friendship) and whatever he still had didn't mean anything anymore. He was someone who lost himself in dark ambition, and deep inside wanted someone to save him from his endless spiral of violence that he trapped himself within as its kingpin.

AFTERWORD/NOTES

holy shit sorry I procrastinated hard on writing this... if u read this far thanks and I hope you enjoyed and I hope my points are clear enough. this really became a stream of conscious thing haha. weak hero brain rot never ends. ok but genuinely I hope Donald survives the truck crash bc it would be such a cop out if he died and I dont think seopass wld do that. (NO SPOILERS PLZ THX)

edit: shit I got spoiled

#weak hero webtoon #Donald na #gray yeon #weak hero analysis #weak hero spoilers #weak hero union #ben park #character analysis #long post #RAAAAAAAAAAHHHH #weak hero

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blackjackkent · 2 months

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Unsurprisingly, we get into a conversation with the Emperor as soon as Ansur is dead (again).

"Ansur. I never thought I'd see him again."

Hector is spitting mad about this whole situation and not bothering to hide it. "How much more of your past are you not telling me about?"

I was assuming nobody but Wyll actually witnessed the interchange between the Emperor and Ansur, that it kind of took place inside Wyll's brain with Wyll as the conduit. So I'm also running on the assumption that Wyll - fried within an inch of his life by the whole experience - gave Hector the Cliff's Notes version right after the battle ended, and Hector is now furious as a result.

He is sick of this creature lying to him and manipulating him. He is sick of surprises. He is sick of the fact that his rapidly crumbling alliance with the Emperor still had enough weight that it required fighting a beast like Ansur rather than allying with it. How dare you? he thinks angrily. How dare you allow this to happen?

And he is doubly angry, really, that all of this madness means that he cannot properly enjoy the revelation that is happening here. The Emperor is Balduran? One of the greatest historical figures in all of Faerun? Someone he has read about countless times in his studies in the monastery library?

He feels sick with this desecration - of the dragon, of his own knowledge, of his own joy in that knowledge.

"My past is past," the Emperor answers calmly. "I concealed nothing from you. I simply left out the details that were not pertinent to our cause. But it seems you are interested in them."

Hector scowls. Once, when the Emperor was still the Guardian and Hector did not know the threat it posed, that unflappable placidity appealed to him; now he just finds it infuriating. "You literally founded Baldur's Gate," he says between his teeth, as if stating the obvious to a particularly aggravating child. "Of course I'm interested."

If you cared about me as anything more than a tool, I suspect you would know that already. Further evidence that we are right to turn from you, he thinks bitterly.

"Such sentimentality..." the illithid says disdainfully. "Very well."

(A/N: Another flashback sequence!)

"It's like I always told you. I was just like you. An adventurer who yearned for greatness. And in mortal terms, I achieved it. As captain of the Wandering Eye, I acquired enough gold to found Baldur's Gate. I stayed for a while to watch my city grow, but it was not enough."

"I grew restless again. The sea called to me, and I ran to her with open arms. Life at sea was not easy. Our last adventure was ruinous. My ship was destroyed, my crew lost, but my spirit was far from broken. I was determined to return in triumph once again. I heard of treasure in Moonrise. I strove to find it."

"What I found was an illithid colony, where I acquired a tadpole much like yours and became a mind flayer, enthralled to the Elder Brain."

"It was Ansur who found me, Ansur who pulled me from the brain's domination, Ansur who brought me home. He sought to cure me of my sickness, called on every healer he could find, nearly broke his spirit in the attempt."

"But he failed to understand - I wanted no healing. I was not sick."

Hector listens to this impassively. It tells him little he did not already know, but fills in extra details in the tapestry. And again he feels that spark of rage that he cannot enjoy this moment of learning, that it comes wrapped in agony and fear. "Ansur. Stelmane," he says coldly. "Do your allies always die?"

"Stelmane's death was not my fault," the Emperor snaps. "Ansur's death was born of necessity. And make no mistake - I grieve them both." It shrugs, turns away. "Even after he had exhausted all possibility of reversing my condition, he still clung to hope. I tried to convince him of my reality - I was on the cusp of greatness beyond my wildest dreams. But all he could see was a mind flayer."

A long pause. Its voice lowers. "He came to me as I slept - a mercy killing, in his mind. I saw the tears. I felt his grief. I had no choice but to kill him first. It was an act of self-preservation."

Because you wished to remain a monster. "Is being an illithid really worth the loss of a friend?" Hector asks flatly.

The Emperor matches his tone, its lavender eyes narrowing to slits. "Put simply - yes. And being alive is even more so. Do not think that I am ignorant of what I have lost. I may not regret my actions, but I do regret that they were necessary." It shakes its head in a sharp motion heavy with finality. "While the past is beyond my influence, the present is not. It is time we move on."

It vanishes in a burst of light, swallowed back up by the Prism.

#bjk plays baldur's gate 3 #hector carlisle

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flockoff-featherface · 6 months

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Devil May Cry.

alright hi hi hello it's time for a ro ramble (read that yugioh style like D D D D DUEL)

i fucking. love this game. i really fucking do. so much. i wanna talk about nero today okay. nero. son of vergil. (remember vergil? he strove power so badly because he blamed himself for the loss of his family, his mother, his brother for so long. obviously. it got out of hand to the point that he forgot the whole reason he wanted said power and now is just power hungry. thanks vergil love that ANYWAY remember how he went to hell to live where their father did fight the demons their father fought anyway) nero, poor kid man. he grew up with credo and kyrie. his uncle's dante, you know yeah ! but also just. let's just think about everything for a minute here.

kid's uncle (dante) (who doesn't know that's his nephew yet (BUT ALSO WHEN HE FIGURES IT OUT FULLY DOES NOT TELL HIM HEY IM YOUR UNCLE. NO. HE WAITS. UNTIL NERO'S LIKE LEMME KILL THAT BASTARD AND DANTES LIKE NO. THAT'S YOUR DAD YOU CANT DO THAT LIKE ????)) rocks up. straight up k words the pope of the church THAT PRAYS TO NERO'S GRANDFATHER (AGAIN. HE DOESN'T KNOW HIS LINEAGE YET.) and is like yo kid. you're cool anyway see you around. AT THE SAME TIME IM FAIRLY SURE IT'S CANON THAT NERO'S ARM ONLY STARTED BEING LIKE THAT THREE WEEKS OR SOMETHING STUPID LIKE THAT BEFORE DMC4. WHAT THE FUCK. also ! turns out there are demons! ALSO ! TURNS OUT THAT LIKE. WHEN YOU K WORD ONE OF THE BIG DEMONS? A WEIRD POWER THING GETS ABSORBED IN YOUR ARM THAT'S SO NORMAL NERO. also also whilst we're at it your girlfriends brother AND this weird incel scientist bitch (WHO IS THE FATHER OF YOUR FUTURE BESTIE) are demons too and hey hahahaha nero guess what ! your girlfriend got kidnapped by incel scientist and the pope hey remember when that guy died yeah no so nero he's. he's a demon. yeah. whaaaaaat so normal. so normal haha. OH SHIT HOW COULD I FORGET NERO !!!! YOU RESURRECTED YAMATO !!!! ALSO THE GUY THAT K WORDED THE POPE ISN'T THAT BAD AND EVEN THOUGH THAT'S HIS BROTHER'S (YOUR FUCKING FATHER) SWORD HE'S LETTING YOU KEEP IT (i wonder why). dante. why did you wait so fucking long to tell him. bitch. anyway also the fate of the world kinda rests on you so like. yeah.

yeah keeping all that in mind his reactions in dmc4 MAKE SENSE. him being a cocky little shit who's just done with everything MAKES SENSE.