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artsekey · 2 years ago

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Disney's Wish

Look, Disney's Wish has been universally panned across the internet, and for good reason.

It’s just…kind of okay.

When we sit down to watch a Disney film—you know, from the company that dominated the animation industry from 1989 to (arguably) the mid 2010’s and defined the medium of animation for decades—we expect something magnificent. Now, I could sit here and tell you everything that I thought was wrong with Wish, but if you’re reading this review, then I imagine that you’ve already heard the most popular gripes from other users across the web. So, let me focus in:

The biggest problem with Wish—in fact, the only problem with Wish—is Magnifico.

Whoa, that’s crazy! There’re so many things about Wish that could’ve been better! The original concept was stronger! The music was bad--

I hear you, I do. But stay with me here, okay? Take my hand. I studied under artists from the Disney renaissance. I teach an adapted model of Disney’s story pipeline at a University level. I spent a ridiculous amount of time getting degrees in this, and I am about to dissect this character and the narrative to a stupid degree.

First, we need to understand that a good story doesn’t start and end with what we see on the screen. Characters aren’t just fictional people; when used well, characters are tools the author uses (or in this case, the director) to convey their message to the audience. Each character’s struggle should in some way engage with the story’s message, and consequently, the story’s theme. Similarly, when we look at our protagonist and our antagonist, we should see their characters and their journeys reflected in one-another.

So, what went wrong between Asha & Magnifico in terms of narrative structure?

Act I

In Wish, we’re introduced to our hero not long into the runtime—Asha. She’s ambitious, caring, and community-oriented; in fact, Asha is truly introduced to the audience through her love of Rosas (in “Welcome to Rosas”). She’s surrounded by a colorful cast of friends who act as servants in the palace, furthering her connection with the idea of community but also telling us that she’s not of status, and then she makes her way to meet Magnifico for her chance to become his next apprentice.

Quick aside: I'm not going to harp on Asha as a character in the context of Disney's overall canon. Almost every review I've seen covers her as a new addition to Disney's ever-growing repertoire of "Cute Quirky Heroines", and I think to be fair to Asha as an actor in the narrative, it serves her best to be weighed within the context of the story she's part of.

As Asha heads upstairs for her interview, we're introduced to the man of the hour: Magnifico. He lives in a tower high above the population of Rosas, immediately showing us how he differs from Asha; he’s disconnected from his community. He lives above them. He has status. While the broader context of the narrative wants us to believe that this also represents a sense of superiority, I would argue that isn’t what Magnifico’s introduction conveys; he's isolated.

Despite this distance, he does connect with Asha in “At All Costs”. For a moment, their goals and values align. In fact, they align so well that Magnifico sees Asha as someone who cares as much about Rosas as he does, and almost offers her the position.

… Until she asks him to grant Saba’s wish.

This is framed by the narrative as a misstep. The resonance between their ideals snaps immediately, and Magnifico says something along the line of “Wow. Most people wait at least a year before asking for something.”

This disappointment isn't played as coming from a place of power or superiority. He was excited by the idea of working with someone who had the same values as he did, who viewed Rosas in the same way he does, and then learns that Asha’s motivations at least partially stem from a place of personal gain.

Well, wait, is that really Asha's goal?

While it's not wholistically her goal, it's very explicitly stated & implied that getting Saba's wish granted is at least a part of it. The audience learns (through Asha's conversation with her friends before the interview) that every apprentice Magnifico has ever had gets not only their wish granted, but the wishes of their family, too! Asha doesn’t deny that this is a perk that she’s interested in, and I don't think this is a bad thing.

So, Is Asha’s commitment to Saba selfless, or selfish? I’m sure the director wanted it to seem selfless, wherein she believes her family member has waited long enough and deserves his wish granted, but we can’t ignore the broader context of Asha essentially trying to… skip the line.

Then, we get our first point of tension. Magnifico reveals his “true colors” in snapping at Asha, telling her that he “decides what people deserve”. This is supposed to be the great motivator, it’s meant to incite anger in the audience—after all, no one gets to decide what you deserve, right? But unfortunately for the integrity of the film and the audience's suspension of disbelief, at least part of Magnifico’s argument is a little too sound to ignore:

Some wishes are too vague and dangerous to grant. Now, there’s visual irony here; he says this after looking at a 100 old man playing the lute. The idea that something so innocuous could be dangerous is absurd, and the audience is meant to agree.

... But we’ve also seen plenty of other wishes that might be chaotic—flying on a rocket to space, anyone? The use of the word vague is important, too—this implies wording matters, and that a wish can be misinterpreted or evolve into something that is dangerous even if the original intent was innocuous. His reasoning for people forgetting their wish (protecting them from the sadness of being unable to attain their dreams) is much weaker, but still justifiable (in the way an antagonist’s flawed views can be justified). The film even introduces a facet of Magnifico’s backstory that implies he has personal experience with the grief of losing a dream (in the destruction of his home), but that thread is never touched on again.

What is the audience supposed to take from this encounter? If we’re looking at the director’s intent, I’d argue that we’ve been introduced to a well-meaning young girl and a king who’s locked away everyone’s greatest aspiration because he believes he deserves to have the power to decide who gets to be happy.

But what are we shown? Our heroine, backed by her friends, strives to be Magnifico’s apprentice because she loves the city but also would really like to see her family's wishes granted. When this request is denied and she loses the opportunity to be his apprentice, she deems Magnifico’s judgement unfair & thus begins her journey to free the dreams of Rosas’ people.

In fairness, Magnifico doesn’t exhibit sound judgement or kindness through this act of the film. He’s shown to be fickle, and once his composure cracks, he can be vindictive and sharp. He's not a good guy, but I'd argue he's not outright evil. He's just got the makings of a good villain, and those spikes of volatility do give us a foundation to work off of as he spirals, but as we’ll discuss in a bit, the foreshadowing established here isn’t used to the ends it implies.

While I was watching this film, I was sure Magnifico was going to be a redeemable villain. He can’t connect with people because he's sure they value what he provides more than they value him (as seen in “At All Costs” and the aftermath), and Asha’s asking for more was going to be framed as a mistake. His flaw was keeping his people too safe and never giving them the chance to sink or swim, and he's too far removed from his citizens to see that he is appreciated. Asha does identify this, and the culmination of her journey is giving people the right to choose their path, but the way Magnifico becomes the “true” villain and his motivations for doing so are strangely divorced from what we’re shown in Act I.

Act II:

His song, “This is the Thanks I Get!?” furthers the idea that Magnifico’s ire—and tipping point—is the fact that he thinks the people he’s built a kingdom for still want more. Over the course of this 3:14 song, we suddenly learn that Magnifico sends other people to help his community and doesn’t personally get involved (we never see this outside of this song), and that he’s incredibly vain/narcissistic (he's definitely a narcissist). I think feeling under-appreciated is actually a very strong motivation for Magnifico as a character-turning-villain, and it works very well. It’s justified based on what we’ve seen on screen so far: he feels under-appreciated (even though he’s decidedly not—the town adores him), he snaps and acts irrationally under stress (as seen with his outburst with Asha), and he’s frustrated that people seem to want more from him (again, as seen with his conversation with Asha in Act I).

But then… he opens the book.

Ah, the book. As an object on screen, we know that it's filled with ancient and evil magic, well-known to be cursed by every relevant character in the film, and kept well-secured under lock and key. But what does it stand for in the context of the narrative's structure? A quick path to power? We're never told that it has any redeeming qualities; Magnifico himself doesn't seem to know what he's looking for when he opens it. It feels... convenient.

I think it's also worth noting that he only turns to the book when he's alone; once again, the idea of connection and community rears it's ugly head! Earlier in the film, Amaya-- his wife-- is present and turns him away from taking that path. In her absence, he makes the wrong choice.

This decision could make sense; it contains powerful magic, and if it were framed in such a way that the people of Rosas were losing faith in Magnifico’s magic, as if what he can do might not be enough anymore after what they felt from Star, going for the book that we know contains spells that go above and beyond what he can already do would be logical. Along the lines of, “If they’re not happy with what I do for them, fine. I, ever the “martyr”, will do the unthinkable for you, because you want more.”

It would keeps with the idea that Magnifico believes he's still trying to help people, but his motivation has taken his self-imposed pity party and turned it into resentment and spite.

But, that’s not the case. Instead he talks about reversing that “light”, which has had no real negative or tangible consequences on Rosas. Everyone had a warm feeling for a few seconds. Again, it’s meant to paint him as a vain control freak, but… he hasn’t lost any power. The citizens of Rosas even assume the great showing of magic was Magnifico.

Act III

Then, we get to the consequences of opening the book (and perhaps my biggest qualm with this film). The book is established as being cursed. Magnifico knows it, Asha knows it, and Amaya—who is introduced as loyal-- knows it. The characters understand his behavior is a direct result of the book, and search for a way to save him. This is only the focus of the film for a few seconds, but if you think about it, the fact that his own wife cannot find a way to free him of the curse he’s been put under is unbelievably tragic. Worse still, upon discovering there is no way to reverse the curse, Magnifico—the king who built the city & “protected it” in his own flawed way for what seems to be centuries—is thrown out by his wife. You know, the wife who's stood loyal at his side for years?

It’s played for laughs, but there’s something unsettling about a character who’s clearly and explicitly under the influence of a malevolent entity being left… unsaved. If you follow the idea of Magnifico being disconnected from community being a driving force behind his arc, the end of the film sees him in a worse situation he was in at the start: truly, fully alone.

They bring in so many opportunities for Magnifico to be sympathetic and act as a foil for Asha; he’s jaded, she’s not. He’s overly cautious (even paranoid), she’s a risk-taker. He turns to power/magic at his lowest point, Asha turns to her friends at her lowest point. Because this dichotomy isn’t present, and Magnifico—who should be redeemable—isn’t, the film is so much weaker than it could’ve been. The lack of a strong core dynamic between the protagonist and antagonist echoes through every facet of the film from the music to the characterization to the pacing, and I believe if Magnifico had been more consistent, the film would’ve greatly improved across the board.

I mean, come on! Imagine if at the end of the film, Asha—who, if you remember, did resonate with Magnifico’s values at the start of the film—recognizes that he's twisted his original ideals and urges him to see the value in the people he’s helped, in their ingenuity, in their gratitude, & that what he was able to do before was enough. Going further, asking what his wish is or was—likely something he’s never been asked— and showing empathy! We’d come full circle to the start of the film where Asha asks him to grant her wish.

Pushing that further, if Magnifico’s wish is to see Rosas flourish or to be a good/beloved king, he'd have the the opportunity to see the value in failing and how pursuing the dream is its own complex and valuable journey, and how not even he is perfect.

The curse and the book (which, for the purposes of this adjustment, would need to be established as representing the idea of stepping on others to further your own goals/the fast way to success), then serve as the final antagonist, that same curse taking root in the people of Rosas who’ve had their dreams destroyed, and Asha works with the community to quell it. Asha’s learned her lesson, so has Magnifico, and the true source of evil in the film—the book—is handled independently. Magnifico steps back from his role as King, Amaya still ends up as Queen, and Asha takes her place as the new wish-granter.

This route could even give us the true “Disney villain” everyone’s craving; giving the book sentience and having it lure Magnifico in during “This is the Thanks I Get!?” leaves it as its own chaotic evil entity.

All in all, Magnifico's introduction paved a road to redemption that the rest of the film aggressively refused to deliver on, instead doubling down on weaker motivations that seem to appear out of thin air. Once the audience thinks, hey, that bad guy might have a point, the protagonist has to do a little more heavy lifting to convince us they're wrong.

Look at the big-bad-greats from Disney's library. There isn't a point in the Lion King where we pause and think, "Wait a second, maybe Scar should be the guy who rules the Pridelands." Ursula from the Little Mermaid, though motivated by her banishment from King Triton's Seas, never seems to be the right gal for the throne. Maybe Maleficent doesn't get invited to the princess's birthday party, but we don't watch her curse a baby and think, Yeah, go curse that baby, that's a reasonable response to getting left out.

What do they all have in common? Their motivation is simple, their goal is clear, and they don't care who they hurt in pursuit of what they want.

Magnifico simply doesn't fall into that category. He's motivated by the idea of losing power, which is never a clear or impactful threat. His goal at the start seems to be to protect Rosas, then it turns into protecting his own power, and then-- once he's corrupted-- he wants to capture Star. The problem is, there's no objective to put this power toward. Power for power's sake is useless. Scar craves power because he feels robbed of status. Ursula believes the throne is rightfully hers. Maleficent wanted to make a statement. Magnifico... well, I'm not really sure.

#wish #disney #review #magnifico

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vestaignis · 4 months ago

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Святилище Богоматери Короны (Santuario Madonna della Corona).

Святилище Мадонны делла Корона находится в деревне Спьяцци, в провинции Верона. Этот церковный комплекс построен прямо в скальной стене горы Бальдо в Альпах, на высоте 774 метров над уровнем моря. Под ним расположена долина реки Адиже, а над ним возвышаются утес и бескрайнее небо.

Считается, что около 1000 года благочестивые отшельники, связанные с аббатством Святого Зено в Вероне, основали на горе Бальдо религиозное убежище. К XIII веку здесь уже существовал монастырь. По легенде, строительство святилища началось в 1522 году, когда статуя Мадонны чудесным образом была перенесена с острова Родос на это место «по воле ангелов» после захвата Родоса османскими войсками. В 1530 году на месте чуда была построена часовня, а через столетие — более крупная церковь. Последние значительные работы по реконструкции проходили в 1970-х годах под руководством архитектора Гвидо Тисато. Ранее, в XIX веке, святилище подверглось неоготической перестройке, но позднее его признали нестабильным. Сегодня оно полностью восстановлено и безопасно для посещения.

В средние века в монастырь снизу вела опасная горная тропа, и это был единственный путь. Впоследствии построили мосты, деревянные и каменные лестницы, затем — дорогу на горе, по которой теперь автобус доставляет людей. По лестнице паломники/пилигримы поднимаются до сих пор. Тропа «Путь Надежды» начинается от города Брентино Беллуно. Вверх через лес ведут 1500 ступенек. В среднем на такой подъем в монастырь пилигримы тратят 2 часа.

Кроме того, внутри здания находится Святая лестница (Scala Santa), считающаяся точной копией лестницы во дворец Пилата, по которой Иисус поднимался, чтобы услышать смертный приговор.

Sanctuary of Madonna della Corona (Santuario Madonna della Corona).

The Sanctuary of Madonna della Corona is located in the village of Spiazzi, in the province of Verona. This church complex is built directly into the rock wall of Mount Baldo in the Alps, at an altitude of 774 meters above sea level. Below it is the valley of the Adige River, and above it rises a cliff and an endless sky.

It is believed that around the year 1000, pious hermits associated with the Abbey of San Zeno in Verona founded a religious retreat on Mount Baldo. By the 13th century, a monastery already existed here. According to legend, the construction of the sanctuary began in 1522, when the statue of the Madonna was miraculously transferred from the island of Rhodes to this place “by the will of angels” after the capture of Rhodes by Ottoman troops. In 1530, a chapel was built on the site of the miracle, and a century later, a larger church. The last significant reconstruction work took place in the 1970s under the direction of the architect Guido Tisato. Earlier, in the 19th century, the sanctuary underwent a neo-Gothic reconstruction, but it was later recognized as unstable. Today, it is fully restored and safe to visit.

In the Middle Ages, a dangerous mountain path led from below to the monastery, and this was the only way. Later, bridges, wooden and stone stairs were built, then a road on the mountain, along which a bus now takes people. Pilgrims still climb the stairs. The "Way of Hope" trail starts from the town of Brentino Belluno. 1,500 steps lead up through the forest. On average, pilgrims spend 2 hours on this climb to the monastery.

Also inside the building is the Holy Stairs (Scala Santa), which is considered an exact replica of the stairs to Pilate's palace that Jesus climbed to hear his death sentence.

Источник://t.me/borderlesstravel, /lifeglobe.net/entry/14697, /a-lex-7.livejournal.com/626492.html, /tourweek.ru/blogs/3449989, /www.tripadvisor.ru/Attraction_Review-g1785335-d3246292-Reviews-Santuario_Basilica_Madonna_Della_Corona-Ferrara_di_ Monte_Baldo_Province_of_Veron.html.

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sweetums0kitty · 5 days ago

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Erik Campbell X Death!Reader Ideas

Author's Note: Please be nice to me, I haven't written anything since 2022. I'm rusty and this was just thrown together. Erik is my pookie bear tho and I love him! <3

He’s the wife because provider verses providee in the relationship. It’s at least how Death sees it. Not understanding human relationship terms. Death sees life as something fickle and short. The rules are the rules and they take what they were promised eventually.

Not a malicious force really, thinks it’s fun to give humans extravagant deaths! Why go out with something dull and common when you could be crushed by a garbage truck!

Eros and Psyche analogy where Erik gets to go from the human realm to living in death’s cool goth palace. Gonna give him angst where he’s okay with trading his life for his siblings.

Of course he can still visit his family! He just can’t stay with them. That’s why he’s the Persephone of this story. The tattoo shop is burned down so he doesn’t have job.. Julia, Bobby, Stephane and Charlie have lives and futures that they can live. Idk emo boy depression and issues I’m projecting onto Erik.

Death who’s really into how alive people are, obsessed with his pulse and feeling it, idk pain kink?!? They’re switches cause that’s hotter but also Death will peg him cause I need to do that to Erik.

When Erik is in the land of the living he’s paler, maybe he doesn’t have a pulse, it’s like being the living dead. Idk why I find that cool just he’s the living dead. Maybe it works like he can’t die no matter what happens cause he’s Death’s consort.

Imagine: You’re death and you’re reviewing souls who have to die on a big long list and you’ve got Erik on your lap while doing so. You’ll stroke his hair and kiss his neck. Just cuddle the human you love.

Sorry if this is unrefined, I’m a little loopy right now but I love him.

#erik campbell #erik campbell x reader #final destination #final destination bloodlines #my writing #final destination x reader #horror movie fanfic #final destination fanfic #Erik Campbell imagine #final destination spoilers #richard harmon #sav speaks #headcanon #my headcanons #my writings #writers on tumblr #tumblr writers #writing

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fushigurokogane · 2 months ago

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❝𝐎𝐮𝐫 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐝𝐨𝐦❞

Royalty AU || Crown Prince Megumi x Reader || Part 3

"Either way, you weren’t supposed to catch the eye of the Crown Prince. But you did — not because you tried to impress him, but because you didn’t."

wc: 3.4k

authors note: HAIIII im back!! alr so this is kinda long?? idk. but im having so much fun adding to this plot tbh so i hope you enjoy and if your new, PLEASE read the first 2 parts first, it'll help you understand the storyline better :)

warnings: fem!reader, crown prince! megumi, forbidden romance, emotional manipulation, power imbalance, and political pressure

previous | next

masterlist

They didn’t ask questions at first.

The nobles, the court, the whispers behind fans and wine glasses — they all saw you once and dismissed you. A curiosity. A blip. Another face swept into the tide of courtly games.

But then they saw you again.

At the edge of the solarium, where the Crown Prince stood just a little too close. On the second terrace, where his eyes tracked your exit even while a visiting duchess tried to flirt with him. In the south garden, at dusk — a place no one went unless they wanted privacy.

And suddenly, it was a pattern.

It wasn’t supposed to be this way.

You told him that, more than once. In the flickering dark of the archives, where lanterns hummed like fireflies and your knees touched beneath the reading table. In the old chapel where no one dared go except ghosts and people pretending not to be in love. In the silent corners of the palace kitchens, hands brushing over teacups and smuggled fruit.

“This is dangerous,” you whispered once, the night his fingers found yours behind the velvet curtain of the observatory.

He didn’t say anything.

He just looked at you.

The kind of look that felt like a vow.

Like if anyone found you in that moment, he’d set the world on fire to keep you safe.

But fire makes smoke.

And smoke draws attention.

The first time you were summoned, it was under the guise of a simple interview. Routine, they said. Just part of an “internal security review.”

You weren’t stupid. You’d seen wolves wear sheep’s clothing before.

They asked strange questions.

How long had you known the Crown Prince? What was your family’s profession? Had you received any… unusual gifts lately?

You lied, carefully. Just enough truth to keep from slipping.

When you told Megumi later — behind the carved wood of a forgotten study — his jaw clenched so tightly you heard his teeth grind.

“They’re watching you now,” he said.

You didn’t ask if he meant they or he — because the answer was the same.

You looked at him, and you saw the storm coming.

He was different now. Not colder, but harder. Like steel forged under pressure. Every move measured. Every glance weighed.

He’d stopped leaving you notes. Stopped appearing in public anywhere near you.

But you still found each other.

In the space between dusk and nightfall, just before the bells rang the final hour, you met in a room that didn’t exist on the official floor plan.

Stone walls. Dust. A broken mirror no one had bothered to fix. It was perfect.

You were already there when he arrived, boots silent on the old tile.

“Megumi..I missed you,” you said, voice barely more than a breath.

“I missed you too. A lot." he replied.

Then his hand was at your jaw. Fingers tilting your face upward. His thumb brushing the line of your cheek like he was trying to memorize the way you existed.

“Tell me to stop,” he said.

You didn’t.

So he kissed you.

Not tentative. Not unsure. But like someone whose leash had finally snapped — restrained for too long, now moving like a tide pulled forward by gravity and grief and longing.

It was the kind of kiss that meant something. The kind that leaves bruises behind your ribs.

But when he pulled away, his expression had already changed.

Not regret. Just reality.

“They’re forcing a decision,” he said.

You already knew what he meant.

A political marriage. One that would “strengthen alliances,” “preserve tradition,” “ensure the future of the realm.”

The usual excuses for arranged betrayal.

“Who?” you asked.

“Lady Hisakawa.”

The name made your stomach turn. Not because of jealousy — but because she was cruel in the way polished things often are. Beautiful and hollow. Sharp behind the smile.

“I don’t have a choice,” he said, low.

“Yes, you do,” you whispered.

“No,” he said, and the weight in his voice nearly broke something in you. “I have duty.”

You didn’t cry. Not in front of him.

But you reached out. Held his hand like it might keep the world from spinning off its axis.

“I won’t stay here,” you said.

His gaze snapped to yours.

“If I watch you marry someone else, I’ll lose everything good I’ve ever been.”

Silence.

“Then I’ll never marry.”

You stared.

“I’ll delay. Strategize. Break rules they thought unbreakable. Whatever it takes,” he said. “If they want a performance, I’ll give them one. But I won’t give them you.”

Your chest ached. Every word was a wound and a balm.

“But if they find out…”

“They already suspect. And I don’t care.”

“You will,” you said. “When they come for me.”

His jaw tightened. “They’ll have to go through me first.”

And for once, you believed it.

That night, you left the palace through a side gate no one guarded anymore.In your pocket, you carried another violet. This one dried. Fragile. Pressed flat between the pages of a stolen royal ledger.

It wasn’t a promise.

It was a warning.

Because the palace walls weren’t made of stone. They were made of glass.

And glass only holds until it shatters.

It had now been a few days, the palace whispered.

A tapestry tugged at the seams, delicate threads coming loose under the weight of secrets. Servants changed routes. Guards took new posts. Doors once left ajar began locking behind them. No one said your name, but it lingered in the air like smoke: known, unspoken, dangerous.

And Megumi was more careful now.

Not distant. Never that. But sharper. As if he walked through each day counting steps and knives. As if he knew that one wrong move might unravel everything.

You saw him less, but when you did, it meant something.

A glance across the throne room during an open council. A single brush of fingers beneath a shared parchment in the library. A quiet moment in the garden just before dawn — when the sky was still indigo and the world hadn’t remembered to be cruel yet.

You didn’t speak of the marriage again.

Not aloud.

Not after that night.

But the threat of it hung over everything, a sword waiting to fall.

Three weeks passed.

You kept to shadows, wearing quiet like a cloak. The shopkeeper missed you. The capital streets missed you. But you’d become part of the palace’s undercurrent — a ghost no one saw unless they looked too closely.

And people were starting to look.

Lady Hisakawa was the first to make it known.

She wasn’t subtle. The court never was.

She found you alone in the conservatory one evening, pretending to admire the frost orchids while you waited for a servant to slip you a message.

“Pretty things don’t survive long here,” she said, voice lilting like it was dipped in honey and edged in venom.

You didn’t respond.

She stepped closer.

“You don’t belong, you know. Whatever fantasy you’re indulging in — it ends badly. For people like you.”

You met her eyes. “Is that a threat?”

She smiled, slow and deliberate. “It’s tradition.”

And then she walked away, trailing lavender perfume and poison in her wake.

The message never came.

You didn’t see Megumi again until the Midwinter Gala.

You hadn’t planned to attend. It was too public, too exposed. But the invitation arrived in silence — a single envelope bearing only your name, slipped beneath your door with no seal at all.

Inside, one sentence:

You said you wouldn’t watch. But what if I want you to see me fight?

You frowned, you didn't know what it meant. You wanted to know what it meant.

So you went.

You borrowed a gown from the wardrobe of a sympathetic court musician — deep navy with silver threading, the colors of dusk. You wore no jewelry. No mask. Only your resolve.

The ballroom gleamed. Light caught on ice sculptures and velvet drapery, casting stars on the marble floor. The nobles danced. The royals mingled. Everything was perfect.

Until it wasn’t.

Until he stepped forward in full ceremonial attire — sword at his hip, crown band gleaming like forged moonlight — and walked to the center of the room.

He didn’t call for silence.

He didn’t need to.

The crowd quieted on instinct.

Megumi looked at the gathered lords and ladies, eyes like winter storms.

Then he spoke.

“There’s been speculation,” he began, voice even but edged. “About my intentions. About the future of the realm. About alliances.”

He looked toward Lady Hisakawa, who stood near the dais, already lifting her chin with anticipation.

“There is truth in what you’ve heard,” he continued. “I have made a decision. But not the one you expect.”

A ripple moved through the crowd.

“I will not marry for power,” he said.

A gasp.

“I will not bind my life to politics. I have seen what love becomes when it’s used as currency. I refuse to bleed it dry.”

His voice cut like a blade now — controlled, lethal.

“I will not announce a bride tonight. Because she already knows who she is.”

And then he looked at you.

Not a flicker. Not a glance.

A look so direct, so defiant, it lit the entire room on fire.

You didn’t breathe.

He bowed his head, a silent vow in a room made of silence.

And the court exploded.

You were gone before the storm hit.

You slipped out through the west corridor, skirts lifted above your ankles, heart thundering like hooves on stone. Footsteps followed. Voices. Chaos in the wake of his truth.

But you didn’t stop running until someone grabbed your wrist and pulled you into an alcove.

Megumi.

His breath was ragged. His collar undone. He looked like a man who had just set fire to everything and didn’t regret it.

"You look so beauti-"

“Are you insane?” you hissed.

“Yes,” he said. “For you.”

“You’ve just undone a decade of strategy!”

“They’ll fix it,” he said. “They always do.”

“And what if they come for me?”

His hand framed your jaw again, tender and furious. “Then they’ll find you gone.”

Your breath caught.

“What are you saying?”

“I made arrangements,” he said. “Safe passage. A place outside the capital. No one knows but me.”

“Megumi—”

“If you stay, they’ll use you. To hurt me. To control me. I won’t let that happen.”

“And what about you?”

“I’m the Crown Prince. I can’t run. But I can protect you. Even from here.”

Tears pricked the edge of your eyes.

“I don’t want protection,” you whispered. “I want you.”

He kissed you then.

Fast. Desperate. Like he knew it might be the last.

Then he pressed something into your hand — a key, worn with age and silver-etched.

“There’s a gatehouse in the mountains,” he said. “It’s yours now. Go tonight.”

You stared at him.

And then, slowly, you shook your head.

“No.”

“Don’t be stupid—”

“No, Megumi. I won’t run unless you ask me to.”

Silence.

Then, his hand closed over yours.

“I won’t. Not yet.”

“Then I stay.”

His mouth trembled, just once.

And he let go.

The fallout came fast.

Whispers turned to accusations. Nobles turned on each other. The king grew ill. The court tried to rewrite the story in real time, but the damage had been done.

Megumi stood his ground.

And you?

You watched the kingdom crack beneath the weight of two people who refused to let go of something real.

A dangerous, impossible love.

The kind that shatters kingdoms.

The kind that builds them too.

@obsessivestrawberrysimp

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carriagelamp · 5 months ago

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My favourite books from 2024! Another really strong year of books for me -- every year will have some stinkers and a bunch of middling reads, but the highs of this year were really high so I'm pretty content

As always, I give more detailed descriptions and opinions of the books in my month reviews, but here's a quick breakdown for anyone who's interested:

The Anxious Generation by Jonathan Haidt

A non-fiction book that looks at how childhood has been “rewired”, focusing specifically on the increase of overprotective parenting, increase of tablet/social media usage, and decrease of unstructured, independent play. It was a fascinating read that really looked at how children need to be given lots of opportunities to play, take risks, and make mistakes in order to learn and grow and how a loss of that might be impacting people’s mental health. As someone right on the cusp of the age bracket that’s being focused on, it felt very exposing.

Apothecary Diaries v1-2 by Natsu Hyuuga

Maomao is kidnapped and sold as a servant to the imperial palace, where she serves as a general dogsbody in the rear palace, home of the emperor’s various consorts and concubines. She’s determined to keep her head down until her contract is up… until she helps solve a mystery and catches the eye of the powerful eunech Jinshi who soon learns about her in-depth knowledge of apothecary work and anything to do with poisons. Very funny premise, Maomao hates Jinshi soooo much and he is such a simp for it. She just wants to eat poisons and be left alone and he says “no<3” to both of those

Bury Your Gays (and Straight) by Chuck Tingle

Both of these are very explicitly queer horror novels. Straight is a novella that riffs on the format of a zombie story, but with straight people becoming inexplicably violent towards queer people one day a year. Bury Your Gays is about a Hollywood screenwriter who realises his horror creations are begin to stalk him in the real world. Both are very intentionally built around social commentary on queer issues, and despite have audacious premises they completely own their camp and end up producing really well thought out, insightful stories. I can’t say I liked either as much as Camp Damascus but either is worth a read.

Console Wars by Blake J. Harris (and Blood, Sweat, and Pixels by Jason Schreier)

Console Wars is a nonfiction book I’ve meant to read for years on my brother’s recommendation and I quite enjoyed it. It explores the history of the video game console market in North America, with a focus on how Nintendo revitalized it and how Sega then swooped in to upset the monopoly it held. The book is written in a very narrative, personable style and I found myself really rooting for the various people and companies being portrayed ahahaha. A shockingly fun read. I also read Blood, Sweat, and Pixels which wasn’t quite as narratively compelling but a related read that looked at games with complex development cycles.

Defekt by Nino Cipri

Technically the sequel to Finna which I also read this year, but Defekt works as a stand-alone and is, imho, the better of the two. Both deal with a surrealist horror Ikea setting, where the sheer density and liminal-space-ness of it all allows strange wormholes to open up between these stores from different dimensions. Finna deals with actual wormhole hopping, whereas Defekt focuses in on one employee who gets assigned to a very strange overnight inventory shift.

The Disabled Tyrant’s Beloved Pet Fish v1-2 by Xue Shan Fei Hu

Fish isekai book. Is this a good book? No. Is it a really really fun book? Yes, in spades. In this book, Li Yu wakes up in a court drama novel… but not as a character but rather as the tyrannical prince’s pet fish. He is given the task to improve the prince and is stuck figuring out how the hell to do this as a fish. This book knows exactly how ridiculous it is and leans into it. Li Yu and Prince Jing are both idiots in very unique and exciting directions. No one knows what the fuck is happening.

Down Among the Sticks and Bones by Seanan McGuire

A prequel to Every Heart a Doorway, though it works perfectly well as a standalone. Honestly I liked it more than the first. This book has deliciously gothic horror vibes, and it plays with all the tropes you would expect from gothic horror / fear of the sublime. It’s about sisters who find a strange chest that lets them descend to the sinister land of the Moors. This is where vampires rule, werewolves stalk, and mad scientist’s ply their craft. The girls end up separated on and very different trajectories as they grow and acclimatize to the brutal existence of the Moors.

Escape From Incel Island by Margaret Killjoy

Exactly what it says on the tin. Completely insane book that is very worth the read if you feel like something that is patently insane. I strongly recommend treating this as a read aloud with a friend or loved one because I read it with my brother and couldn’t stop laughing. Top notch mercenary Mankiller Jones is sent to escort a computer scientist to Incel Island to retrieve lost governmental data. There they have to survive the hoards of Nice Guys, Volcels, Betas, and every other violent inhabitant of the island if they ever want to… escape from Incel Island.

Heaven Official’s Blessing v6-8 by Mo Xiang Tong Xiu

I finished the main series of Heaven Official’s Blessing (without reading the extras yet), and man what an ending! I could not have asked for a more epic or satisfying conclusion! The final battle and its various stages? The character reconciliation? The villain reveal? Perfect, no notes. The series itself follows Xie Lian, a prince who has ascended to godhood twice and been cursed and cast out from Heaven just as many times, giving him the title of the Laughingstock God. The story begins with him, to everyone’s dismay, ascending a third time.

Horrorstör (and Paperbacks from Hell, My Best Friend’s Exorcism) by Grady Hendrix

This book also deals with a Strange Alternate Ikea, but is the superior book. This was one of my top reads for 2024, and it was flawless horror. It is essentially a haunted house story set in an Ikea, that manages to be both chilling, disgusting, and a shockingly insightful critique of capitalism and retail. Very worth the read.

After reading this I also read Paperbacks from Hell (a nonfiction book that does an analysis of horror fiction from the ‘70s and ‘80s, very good read) and My Best Friend’s Exorcism (which was decent but not my favourite of Hendrix’s since possession and exorcism isn’t my favourite brand of horror. The vaguely queer undertones and ending I found interesting, and it did some cool things throughout.)

Jeeves and Wooster books by P.G. Wodehouse

I ended up listening to so many of the Jeeves and Wooster audiobooks this summer while I was travelling. There were some I really really loved and some that fell very flat for me. I think I listened to too many in a row by the end… These books are like popcorn, not deep but very fun, and follow the airheaded but good natured Bertie Wooster and his man Jeeves who unfailing swoops in to solve all the strange and inane problems the Bertie gets involved in. They tend to be funny, light-hearted, and clever in their resolution of plot problems… though some of the issues do get rather repetitive. My favourites were: The Inimitable Jeeves, Very Good Jeeves, Right Ho Jeeves, and the Code of the Woosters.

Kaiju Preservation Society by John Scalzi

Some excellent science fiction, especially for my Pacific Rim loving heart. This bordered on the cosy fantasy genre, while mixing in plenty of science, world-building and a good dash of excitement. During the Covid-19 lockdown, Jamie Gray is stuck trying to make ends meet as a food delivery driver… until he runs into an old acquaintance who suggests he might have a very different job offer for him. Jamie ends up joining this very secretive “animal rights group” and finds out just how massive, dangerous, and otherworldly these “animals” are by being risked to an entirely different dimension filled with giant, radioactive monsters.

Lula Dean’s Little Library of Banned Books by Kirsten Miller

One of my favourite books from this year! Tthis book managed to hit on very topical subjects with both tact and humour. Lula Dean has spearheaded a book banning crusade, managing to get a number of “problematic” books removed from the library and has made a show of setting up a Little Free Library in her yard full of “appropriate” books instead. When Beverly Underwood visits her mother and hears about this she’s so exasperated with it all that she quickly hatches a plan swapping out the dust jackets of some of the banned books with the ones in Lula Dean’s Little Free Library. The rest of the story is about various people in the town who borrow a book from Lula Dean’s library and how the book they got instead ends up impacting not just themselves but their town. The first story involves a penis cake. Can’t recommend it enough, starts out humour and quickly becomes something you want to rally around.

My Happy Marriage v1 by Akumi Agitogi

This was pure mindless fluff, it was honestly a delight. This is a low-fantasy, Cinderella-esque story set in the Taishō era. It focuses on Miyo Saimori who lives under the thumb of her cruel step-mother, haughty step-sister, and indifferent father. She’s resigned to being treated like a servant in her own home and ekeing out a strained existence, but her life takes a turn when she finds herself nominally engaged to the allegedly cold and cruel Kiyoka Kudou. It’s just absolutely overwhelmingly cute and I really enjoy the contrasting POVs.

A Series of Unfortunate Events and Poison for Breakfast by Lemony Snicket

I’d never finished The Series of Unfortunate Events when it was originally coming out, so I finally sat down and did that, and honestly it was well worth the wait! It was a very interesting series to read as an adult, especially all in one go, because it really let me appreciate everything that Snicket was trying to say. It was a much more clever and philosophical read than I was anticipating, and The End was fucking superb. He absolutely stuck the landing, it completely blew me away. Poison For Breakfast was also a very interesting standalone novella that felt like surrealist philosophy. I might have even enjoyed it more than the basic TSOUE.

The Poison Squad (and The Poisoner’s Handbooks) by Deborah Blum

Poison Squad is a very compelling and topical nonfiction about the formation of the American Food and Drug act. The state of unregulated food processing in the late 19th century was, in a word, nightmarish. Don’t read this book if you have a weak stomach. But it’s completely fascinating to see how one person, Dr Harvey Wiley, made it a personal mission to scientifically prove what all these mysterious food additives were doing to people and put limits to what could be sold to consumers. I liked it so much I went to read Blum’s other book, The Poisoner’s Handbook which is set during Prohibition and explores the rise of forensic medicine and again exposes how people were being poisoned by simply living their standard lives.

The Pushcart War by Jean Merrill

The real, true history of the New York City Pushcart War!! For real!!! This is a delightful underdog story that is really written in the style of a history textbook recounting the fictional Pushchart War. This war started in New York City as the roads get increasingly congested with traffic, the worst offenders being the increasingly massive and arrogant trucks. The trucking companies hatch a plan though: if they begin to push out the little pushcarts, framing them as the problem for the congestion, then how hard would it be to push out taxis next? Or buses? Or motorcars? How long until they can make the road a perfect habit for trucks and trucks alone? How can something as small and poor as a pushcart owner fight back?

Railsea (and This Census-Taker) by China Miéville

I heard Railsea described on tumblr and it sounded sufficiently insane that I had to read it for myself. This author is truly unrivaled when it comes to bizarre worldbuilding that feels both very, very grounded in reality while also being completely unexplained and impossible. Railsea is essentially a Moby Dick meets Treasure Island retelling but with trains instead of boats and giant, mutated, vicious moles instead of whales. Unhinged. Can’t recommend enough. I followed this up by reading his novella This Census-Taker which was not as much of a frolicking adventure but fucked with my brain just as much or more than Railsea did. Genuinely not sure I even know what happened in that story but I enjoyed the experience of being completely fucking baffled for some 200 pages.

The Salt Grows Heavy by Cassandra Khaw

Another book to ideally not read if you have a weak stomach. This novella is very big on unrelenting body horror. This is a twisted fairytale retelling in which a cannibalistic Little Mermaid meets a plague doctor Frankenstein. Both of them are walking away from cruel past lives, along a trail that’s soaked in blood and viscera. You feel how painfuly and disgustingly human this book is, while also being so wildly separate from anything that resembles human anatomy or morality. Superb.

Scum Villain’s Self-Saving System v1-4 by Mo Xiang Tong Xiu

The last of MXTX’s three series I needed to read. It was the one I was most hesitant about, but I ended up having a really great time with it. It is simultaneously the most light-hearted and silly of the three series, while also the one that most gleefully dives into torture and sex. So you get a bit of everything with this, and as usual MXTX does a really good job of mixing the humour and series in a way that keeps things constantly interesting. The story is about Shen Yuan who dies our of pure, frothing fury after reading the shitty ending to the shitty, porny webnovel he’s been reading for hundreds of thousands of words. He dies cursing the lousy author and the lousy writing so he’s given a chance: step up and do it better! Which is easier said than done, when he finds himself waking up in the body of the series’ villain who is destined to be gruesomely tortured to death. Better get on that!

Shakespeare: The Man Who Pays the Rent by Judi Dench and Brendan O'Hea

This is the written result of a number of interviews held between Judi Dench and Brendan O’Hea and she discusses her time as a Shakespearean actress. It looks into what her time working with theatre companies was like, summarizes the plays she took part in, and delivers into some fascinating character analysis of the roles she played. An absolute treasure of a book for someone who enjoyed their Shakespeare and/or Judi Dench.

Singing Hills Cycle v1-5 by Nghi Vo

Probably my favourite series that I read this year, I can’t wait for the next book! This series follows Chih and her magical bird companion who come from the Singing Hills Monastery, an order that is devoted to keep recording tales and keeping a history of the land. Chih travels all over in these various novellas, collecting stories, memories, and histories that they come across. The first book has them entering the recently unwarded palace of the late Empress to learn about her marriage, imprisonment and rise in power. The second has them trapped by a pack of tigresses with nothing to do but frantically lure them into comparing stories.

The War That Saved My Life by Kimberly Brubaker Bradley

Ten year old Ada was born with a club foot and because of it has never been allowed to leave her apartment. She lives a hard life trying to care for her younger brother and suffer through the abuses of her mother. Things change though as the Second World War truly begins and London begins to evacuate children to the country. Ada is determined — she and her brother will evacuate, they will escape their mother’s house, even if it means her learning how to walk on her club foot. Even if it means facing how different life is for unwanted slum children in the country, and confronting how much she and her brother don’t know about life. This was a very touching book, it did a great job of balancing Ada’s justifiable pain and anger with an optimistic story. Queer elements are all subtext but there — they aren’t the main focus of this story.

When Women Were Dragons by Kelly Barnhill

This book absolutely took my breath away, it was a next level literary experience. It’s very, very solidly magical realism, so don’t go into this expecting true fantasy, everything going on here is allegorical and a beautifully done allegory at that. This story is set during the 1950s, in a time surrounding an event known as “The Mass Dragoning” when thousands of women suddenly, spontaneously, transformed into dragons and flew away. The story follows Alex Green who was a child during this event. Her aunt transformed. Her mother didn’t. Both of these things have profound impacts on Alex as she grows up, and a woman’s role in society, a woman’s anger, her joy, her desire are all questioned and explored.

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theladysunami · 2 years ago

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I had the most hilarious thought!

A reverse transmigration AU, only it’s Bingge’s wives that keep popping into the modern world.

Shen Yuan is house sitting at his parents’ place while they’re on an extended trip. A few days in he discovers Ning Yingying wandering around the place, in her full Xianxia wife-of-the-emperor garbed glory!

She’s confused, Shen Yuan is confused, and they haven’t a clue how or why she’s there.

A display of spiritual powers manages to convince Shen Yuan she’s not just some insane cosplayer, so he does his best to be a polite host and accommodate his sudden guest. Surely Binghe will show up to ‘save’ her eventually so Shen Yuan wants to ingratiate himself, but in a polite, platonic way, so he doesn’t get himself killed as a kidnapper or for seducing Binghe’s wife.

Then the next day, Liu Mingyan shows up. A few days later, Sha Hualing is there. Then Qin Wanyue. Then the little Palace Mistress. Etc.

This is going to be a problem!

Is there some sort of dimensional leak in PIDW’s inner palace? Why do all of Binghe’s wives keep showing up??? How is Shen Yuan supposed to entertain all these people and keep them from wreaking havoc on the city and/or destroying his parents’ house? He’s just a regular guy!

Thank god his parents' staff are on vacation, and they have guest rooms to spare, but still. The food delivery services are giving him weird looks, and surely his parents will eventually review his credit card statements and notice all his sudden odd purchases of women’s clothing.

I’m not sure what all the modern interests of the wives would be, and where Shen Yuan would take them on outings, but he’s for sure a much better host then he realizes. He ends up encouraging them all to expand their horizons in ways they never would have while stuck in the harem with its expectations and politicking. (For two I have thought of: Liu Mingyan definitely finds meimei’s danmei stash in her old room at some point, and it would be hilarious if Sha Hualing was introduced to online PVP games and became the queen of epic gaming trash talk).

Bingge does show up eventually, and it turns out he had been trying to break into Shen Yuan’s world himself the whole time, only some type of misfire or portal issue kept nabbing the various wives instead.

Pretty much all the wives stuck in the modern world adore Shen Yuan by that point, so of course they’re all fine with Binghe bringing him back to join the harem. He’s great! Binghe had better treat him well though, or else.

#Shen Yuan #Binghe's Harem #Luo Bingge #Luo Binghe #Bingge #BinggeYuan #BingYuan #BingQiu #SY #LBH #LBG #SVSSS #Scum Villain's Self Saving System #SVSSS Idea #Story Idea

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kittenintheden · 8 months ago

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to whomstever transformative work writers it may concern -

this is plagiarism.

"Once upon a time, a beautiful vampire lord lived in a splendid palace in a seaside city with his seven lowly spawn, whom he starved and kept in perpetual terror." vs "Once upon a time, a gorgeous vampire lord lived in a splendid palace in a seaside city with his seven sad spawn, whom he starved and kept in perpetual terror."

(almost word-for-word the same sentence and scenario, no true distinguishing features, probably not a sentence two people would uniquely come up with in its entirety)

this is derivative.

"Once upon a time, a beautiful vampire lord lived in a splendid palace in a seaside city with his seven lowly spawn, whom he starved and kept in perpetual terror." vs "Before our story truly began, there were seven poor vampire spawn who lived in constant fear under their beautiful, but terrible, master in the seaside city of Baldur's Gate."

(same scenario or trope, similar voice/phrasing, but a wholly unique work, with clear nods to the influencing material)

this is two writers with a similar voice.

"Once upon a time, a beautiful vampire lord lived in a splendid palace in a seaside city with his seven lowly spawn, whom he starved and kept in perpetual terror." vs "In times of old, a bustling city full of trade sat beside a sea, and in it lived a vampire lord of most evil repute. This is not his story."

(similar tone and voice, dissimilar approach)

this is none of the above.

"Once upon a time, a beautiful vampire lord lived in a splendid palace in a seaside city with his seven lowly spawn, whom he starved and kept in perpetual terror." vs "Cazador Szarr made a deal with the devil. That's how this whole thing started. Part of that deal? Find seven pretty suckers and carve a contract into their flesh. Keeping them as slaves in his shitty basement was just a bonus, really."

(same source material, same scenario, but unique voice/approach/style)

in case you needed to review the difference. stop hassling people because they used the same trope/scenario/word that you did. it's embarrassing. and it's the mark of an amateur, tbh.

#not to be a total dick but you know #calm down #I wrote this a while ago #kitten writes #kitten rambles #fandom wank #absolutely none of us are as original as we think we are I promise you

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starfirexuchiha · 2 months ago

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P5R Magazine - Translation for the Shuake Profiles

I decided to translate the profiles and character descriptions of Joker and Akechi in the P5R magazine☕🥞

英語の翻訳は間違いがあったら、直してくださいね！ 🙏

Joker Profile Translation

CODE NAME: Joker

ARCANA: ?

GUN TYPE: Handgun

STRONG AFFINITY: -

A student by day, and a Phantom Thief After School! He is the leader of the Phantom Thieves who leads his companions!

He is the Protagonist of this game who awakened as a "Persona User" during a certain incident. After being falsely accused and placed on probation, he was transferred to Shujin Academy. From there, he met his companions and formed "The Phantom Thieves of Hearts" with them. He works behind the scenes to reform the hearts of corrupt adults.

Initial Persona: Arsene

This is the initial persona that the Protagonist (Ren) awakens first, and his strongest attribute is Curse. He bears the name of Arsene Lupin, the famous great phantom thief, and lends his strength to the Protagonist when the Protagonist is cornered. Unlike the personas of the other Phantom Thieves, Arsene can be used as an ingredient for persona fusions, or be summoned from the Compendium.

CHARACTER REVIEW

Pay attention to the new characters and the new confidant interactions!

In this game, the main highlights of the Protagonist is how he will interact with Akechi who has a newly reformed confidant, and his interactions with the new characters Kasumi and Maruki. Since Kasumi in particular is a female character, the Protagonist can have a special relationship with 10 people at the same time with her and the existing characters!?? As a Phantom Thief, he can use the new wire ability for movement or exploration and encounters. Please enjoy more thief-like and spectacular actions with this. In battle, he uses multiple personas to be an active role as the core of the party!

⬆️ Hook the wire to a specific location and travel through long distances instantly! It is a new game mechanic that is essential for exploring the palaces in this game, and it is also very cool when you decide to do it. It is also useful for obtaining the new Will Seed items.

Goro Akechi Profile Translation

CODE NAME: Crow

ARCANA: Justice

GUN TYPE: Ray Gun

STRONG AFFINITY: Bless & Curse

The "2nd coming of the Detective Prince" who pursues the case of the Phantom Thieves.

He is a 3rd-year high school student who holds the title of a detective. He had solved numerous difficult cases and is even been called the ""2nd coming of the Detective Prince" by the media. He initially was in pursuit of the Phantom Thieves, but for some reason, he ends up working alongside the Protagonist and his group……

Initial Persona: Robin Hood

This is Akechi's initial persona. He bears the same name as a legendary gentleman thief who was active in medieval England. He specializes in Bless and Curse attributes, and his offensive skills will obliterate any enemy that stands in his way.

Another Appearance Of Akechi In His Darker Outfit…….

In the official PV, there is also a scene where you get to fight alongside Black Mask Akechi. But this seems to probably happen during the 3rd semester…..

⬆️➡️ Fighting alongside Black Mask Akechi is a dream come true for the P5 fans. Since Akechi didn't use his Black Mask form in "Persona Q2: New Cinema Labyrinth", Royal will be the first game where Black Mask Akechi is playable and uses Loki. Drag out the truth with his more aggressive powers!

CHARACTER PROFILE

Akechi's confidant got reformed in "P5R"!

The contents of the Akechi "Justice" confidant has been significantly renewed! In "Vanilla P5", his confidant automatically ranks up as the story progresses, but in this game, his confidant is manual. Therefore, unlike Vanilla P5 which only focused on the serious scenes regarding him, the normal everyday interactions with Akechi has increased dramatically which is nice. There are events that have also been added where you can go to various locations with Akechi. When you have the chance, make it a priority to rank up his confidant, and get to the bottom of his true intentions!!!!

⬆️ Many new events have been added to show an unexpected side of Akechi! As you rank up his confidant, you will be able to obtain an ability that is characteristic of the great detective Akechi which is the "Sleuthing Instinct" which allows you to detect an enemy's affinity at the start of battle.

#p5r magazine #shuake #akeshu #translation #persona 5 royal #p5r #p5 royal #joker #crow #goro akechi #ren amamiya #akira kurusu

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reccyls · 2 months ago

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Victor's Main Route: Chapter 18 His POV Story

Masterlist

This is posted separately because it is unlocked on a 2nd readthrough and thus contains spoilers for later developments of Victor’s route

His POV Story: I Belong Beneath This Veil

Victor: Would you help me get dressed?

On the day of the parade, I summoned Kate after we had spent all of last night working together. I was asking her to help me with something that I could not entrust to anyone else.

(I did want to let her rest until the last minute, but…)

She gazed nervously at the room where former monarchs lived, But I could tell that she looked a bit better than this morning, so it seemed that she did manage to get some rest. That was a relief. I got to the point.

…

Victor: Like this?

Kate: The sleeve is over here.

My request was for her to help me get dressed for the parade. Since I was keeping my identity concealed, there were very few people that I could ask for assistance. I could have asked William. But there was only so much time before Kate’s time with Crown came to an end. I wanted to spend just a little more time with her, so I chose to call for her.

Victor: …I feel almost like a child.

She smiled awkwardly and I returned it. We continued to struggle with putting on all the ornaments and accessories that came with the outfit. If there was anyone looking, we would surely resemble a nanny helping a young child get dressed for the day.

Victor: I’d even requested that it be kept on the simple side, so that it would be easy to put on alone.

Kate: So the reason why the queen never wore any fancy outfits before is…

Victor: Is because I didn’t want to bother putting them on.

(I didn’t think the designer would add more embellishments after the review we had yesterday…)

Finally, most of the decorations were dealt with. I picked up a jewelry box and held it out to Kate.

Victor: Which brooch do you think I should wear on my chest?

Kate: You’re letting me choose?

Victor: I want you to.

Diamond, opal, iolite. After a moment of deep thought, Kate picked up one of the brooches.

Victor: I’m sorry to keep asking you for favors, but might I ask for another one?

Kate: Of course.

Victor: Could you fasten this brooch for me?

I put the brooch in her hand, then held hers in mine as I closed my eyes.

(I have just one small wish.)

I prayed that today’s parade would end without incident. And I wanted her to fasten it, because I felt as though that would make my wish come true.

Victor: Will you do it?

Kate: …I will.

She took her task seriously, and carefully pinned the brooch to my chest.

Kate: Done.

I smiled and picked up my usual veil. Just then, someone knocked on the door.

Palace Guard: Your Majesty, it’s time.

We exchanged a glance and hurriedly began working on the finishing touches.

Victor: Thank you for your help, Kate.

Kate: I’m glad I was helpful.

I stood up straighter and went to say goodbye to Kate. However–

Victor: I’ll be going now.

She grabbed my sleeve.

Victor: Kate?

Kate: Oh, sorry. I…

Noticing how worried she looked, I put my hand on her head and stroked her hair.

Victor: You’ve worked so hard, all the way until this morning, Kate. Victor: You still have the guard positions, the guest list, and Crown’s schedules memorized, don’t you?

Kate: Yes, but–

She still looked anxious, so I took her face in my hands and made her look up at me.

Victor: Everything will be okay, Kate.

Kate: Victor…

Victor: You do your part, and I’ll do mine.

Her worries seemed to fade, and her quiet response met my ears.

Kate: …Okay.

I was swept with a wave of longing when she let go of my sleeve, so I patted her on the head again before turning around.

Victor: I’m off now.

Kate: …Good luck.

She still sounded nervous about something. At the time, I thought she was worried about whether or not she would be able to fulfill her role as messenger.

(As soon as the parade is over, I’ll go see you to tell you how wonderful you were.)

-----

The parade proceeded without incident. I waved to the gathered crowds outside the carriage, trying to burn their faces into my memory.

(It’s a time of celebration.)

In accordance with my wish for the nation’s prosperity, I gave up on my life and ascended the throne. Every time I felt myself falter and long for my life to be my own again, I told myself that this was worth it. Some would say that this life was unrewarding. I myself thought the same, at times. But every time I saw how happy the people looked, I knew that it was not a mistake. Those days have happened time and time again.

(I don’t wish for everything to end anymore. Not as much, at least. But there are still days when everything becomes overwhelming.)

So that I could keep pressing on, I tried to remember the days like this. But as I gazed upon the scenes of celebration and revelry, what came to mind was how Kate looked earlier.

(I’ve seen many of her different faces. But I don’t think I’d seen that one before.)

I felt restless. I wanted to see her as soon as possible.

(But you have your part to play, as do I, so we must see them through.)

Recalling my own words, I sat up straighter in the carriage.

(...But… if you were by my side…)

“I know I would be happy.” Before I could finish the thought, I cut myself off.

(No. I can’t drag her into my fate.)

She was stronger and kinder than anyone else in the world. The person whose happiness I wished for more than anyone else in the world.

(Instead of walking down a path of destruction, your life’s journey should be filled with joy.)

And to make that come true…

Victor: My feelings must stay hidden.

#ikemen villains #my translation #victor (ikevil)

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brunchable · 7 months ago

Text

Winter King, Chapter 8: Bad Blood

Pairings: King AU Bucky Barnes x Queen!Reader Themes: Royaltycore AU, love and power, arranged Marriage, georgian/regency era misogyny, profanity. Warning: Talks of assasination. Summary: Tensions rise as everything begins to unravel. A/N: It's here. It might feel a bit boring since this is focusing on the more serious stuff. I didn't want to go into detail though, because everything seem to be straight forward about who the bad guys are and their intensions. The first few part is a flashback and will be in 3rd person since I find it weird to be in a pov of a six y/o. Uhhh i might've miss people who wanted to be tagged. Sorry? I really need to post a form lol. Also not thoroughly reviewed, so all mistakes/inconsistencies are all on me.

The sun bathed the Zienna palace gardens in a warm, golden glow, casting long shadows across the lush greenery. It was Y/N’s sixth birthday, and the celebration was as grand as it was beautiful. The scent of jasmine filled the air, mingling with the laughter of children and the murmur of noble guests who had gathered from across the realm to honor the princess.

Amid the festivities, Y/N stood in her lavender gown, twirling absentmindedly as she waited for her mother, Queen Seraphina, to finish speaking with one of the advisors. Her father, King Marc, was nearby, engaged in conversation with a pair of visitors—two regal figures, their posture straight, exuding an air of quiet authority.

“Y/N, come here, darling,” her mother called softly, her graceful hand motioning for her to approach. Y/N immediately perked up and hurried over, her small steps light as she reached her parents.

Standing beside the queen and king were two young boys, about eleven years old, each dressed in fine clothing that marked them as nobility from a distant kingdom. They stood tall, though their expressions were contrasting—one with a warm, open smile, and the other with a reserved, watchful gaze.

“Y/N, we have some special guests,” her mother said gently, her eyes filled with love as she introduced the boys. “This is James, and his twin brother, Isaac. They have traveled a long way to join us for your birthday.”

King Marc placed a reassuring hand on Y/N’s shoulder, his voice rich and silky. “Their father is an old friend of mine, from the northern kingdom. It is an honor to have them here.”

Y/N looked up at the two boys, her eyes wide with curiosity. James, with his bright smile and calm demeanor, immediately put her at ease. He stepped forward, giving a slight bow, his manners polished beyond his years. “Happy birthday, Your Highness. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Y/N blushed slightly at the formality, offering a shy smile in return. “Thank you.”

Isaac, standing just behind his brother, offered a curt nod, his sharp blue eyes briefly meeting hers. Though he remained silent, there was an intensity in his gaze that Y/N found both intriguing and intimidating.

“Why don’t you three go play?” Queen Seraphina suggested kindly, glancing toward the gardens. “The other children are by the fountain, and there are plenty of games.”

Y/N hesitated for a moment, glancing up at her father. King Marc gave her a reassuring nod. “Go on, darling. Have fun.”

James offered his hand to Y/N, his smile widening as he led the way toward the garden. Isaac followed closely behind, his steps measured and composed, though his eyes never stopped scanning their surroundings.

As they walked deeper into the garden, Y/N’s initial shyness began to melt away. The gentle rustling of leaves and the bubbling sound of the fountain made the space feel like their own secret world, separate from the grandeur of the palace behind them.

Birds sang in the trees, their melodies adding to the soft laughter of children playing near the fountain. Y/N, her lavender gown fluttering as she walked, led James and Isaac through the garden paths.

As they wandered away from the main celebration, Isaac finally broke the silence, his voice casual but carrying that sharp edge of curiosity.

“James is going to be king one day, you know,” he said, glancing at his brother with a slight smirk.

Y/N looked up at Isaac, her brow furrowing in confusion. “King? What do you mean?”

Isaac’s smirk widened, and he nudged James with his elbow. “I overheard them talking about it. They said James will be king, and…” He paused, his eyes twinkling mischievously. “That you’re going to marry him.”

James’ face reddened slightly, and he shook his head quickly. “Isaac, stop. You shouldn’t listen to everything people say.”

But Isaac was undeterred. “I heard it clear as day. One of the advisors said that when James is king, he’ll need a queen, and who better than the Princess of Zienna?”

Y/N blinked, her mouth slightly agape at the idea.

“Me? No, thank you,” she said firmly, shaking her head. “I want to stay here in Zienna, with my brother.”

Isaac chuckled, clearly amused by her reaction. “You don’t want to be queen?”

Y/N crossed her arms, her voice resolute. “No. My brother Marc is here. I’ll stay with him. I don’t want to leave Zienna, even for a crown.”

James, being polite, gave Y/N a gentle smile, though his cheeks were still tinged with pink. “You don’t have to marry me, Princess. You should do whatever makes you happy.”

Isaac raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying himself. “But what if they try to make you?”

Y/N scrunched her nose, looking quite determined for a six-year-old. “Then I’ll say no. I’ll tell them I’m going to stay here forever with my brother, and no one can make me leave.”

James chuckled softly, but Isaac’s mischievous grin remained. “Well, you’ve got a lot of time to decide, I suppose.”

Y/N gave a confident nod, her resolve unshaken. “Exactly.”

As the three children continued to wander through the vibrant garden, young Y/N’s eyes sparkled as she admired the clusters of flowers swaying in the breeze. Her small fingers brushed over the soft petals of a nearby bloom, curiosity lighting her face.

James, standing a little ways behind, noticed the way she lingered on a patch of delicate white daisies. With the shy determination only an eleven-year-old could muster, he glanced toward Isaac, who was busy exploring the garden himself. Quietly, James crouched down and carefully picked one of the daisies, holding it gently in his hand.

With a quiet step, he approached Y/N.

“Here,” he said, his voice a little hesitant but filled with sincerity. Before she could take the flower, James hesitated for a moment, then stepped closer, his movements careful and uncertain.

He held the daisy up, and with a boyish smile, he brushed back a loose strand of her hair. Gently, he tucked the flower behind her ear, his fingers barely touching her skin.

“Now it looks perfect,” he whispered, his eyes darting between the flower and her face, as though making sure it was just right.

Y/N blinked up at him, her small hand reaching to feel the flower now tucked into her hair. Her cheeks warmed with surprise, and a smile tugged at her lips. “Thank you, James,” she whispered, her voice filled with the kind of simple, heartfelt gratitude that children often expressed.

James shrugged a little, trying to act casual, though his face flushed a deeper shade of pink. He scratched the back of his neck and looked down, suddenly feeling awkward. “It’s… nothing. I just thought it’d look nice,” he mumbled, kicking at the dirt with his shoe.

Y/N smiled brightly at him, her happiness infectious. “It does,” she said softly. “It’s really pretty.”

James looked at her again, his heart beating a little faster in his chest, but he nodded, his boyish confidence returning. “Good,” he said simply, but the warmth in his voice revealed more than the words did.

Isaac, having noticed the interaction from a few feet away, grinned to himself. He didn’t tease, though—something about the quiet sweetness between James and Y/N made him pause. He simply watched for a moment before turning back to his own wandering.

James glanced once more at Y/N, stealing a look at her with the flower in her hair. He felt proud, like he’d done something important, even if it was small. And as Y/N beamed up at him, that small, simple act felt like the most special thing in the world.

× × × ×

The soft notes of Queen Seraphina’s lullaby floated through the air, wrapping around the room like a warm blanket. Y/N’s eyelids grew heavy, lulled by the gentle melody her mother had always sung to her. As the last few notes faded into the evening, Queen Seraphina brushed a strand of hair away from Y/N’s forehead, smiling down at her daughter.

“Is that better, my darling?” Seraphina asked in a soft, tender voice.

Y/N nodded, her small fingers clutching the edges of her blanket. But there was a thoughtful look in her young eyes, something more than just sleepiness lingering behind them. After a moment of quiet, Y/N spoke up.

“Mama… what’s it like to be queen?” Her voice was curious, but there was an innocence to her question—a child’s simple wonder about the world.

Seraphina blinked, slightly taken aback by the question, but her smile never wavered. She gently stroked Y/N’s hair, her eyes thoughtful as she considered how to answer.

“Well,” she began softly, “being queen is many things, my love. It’s a great honor, and with it comes much responsibility.”

Y/N’s eyes widened slightly, listening intently.

“It means always thinking of others,” Seraphina continued softly. “Of the kingdom, of the people. You must be strong when others need you, even when you’re tired. You must be kind, but firm, and always fair, even when it’s difficult.” She paused, her gaze softening as she looked into her daughter’s wide eyes. “And sometimes, it means showing mercy to those who have wronged you.”

Y/N’s brow furrowed slightly, the concept of mercy still foreign to her young mind. “But… why would you be kind to someone who hurt you?”

Seraphina smiled gently, her hand brushing through Y/N’s hair in soothing strokes. “Because mercy is a strength, my darling. To punish is easy. But to offer mercy, even when your heart aches from the wrong done to you, takes great courage. It shows that you are not ruled by anger or vengeance, but by wisdom and compassion.”

She sighed softly, her eyes distant for a moment as if recalling her own struggles. “There will be times when people hurt you, betray you, or make you feel small. But as queen, it’s your duty to rise above that hurt and show grace where others would only see opportunity for retribution.”

Y/N’s eyes were wide with curiosity. “But won’t they do it again?”

“Perhaps,” Seraphina admitted. “But mercy doesn’t mean allowing someone to hurt you over and over. It means giving them a chance to change, to be better. And if they fail, you act as needed, but without letting cruelty taint your decisions. To be a queen is to understand that your strength lies not in how harshly you punish, but in how wisely you show compassion.”

She looked down at Y/N, her gaze softening. “But mercy, my love, is also a sacrifice. It requires you to set aside your pride and your pain for the greater good. And that,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper, “is what makes a true queen.”

Y/N nodded slowly, though the weight of her mother’s words still swirled in her young mind. She thought of Isaac’s earlier comment about marrying James, her confusion slowly giving way to a new understanding of the responsibilities that came with such titles.

Y/N’s eyes shone with wonder, but a flicker of concern crossed her small face.

“Why do you ask, little one?” Seraphina asked gently, tilting her head with a knowing smile. “You seem very curious tonight.”

Y/N hesitated for a moment, then shyly glanced up at her mother. “Prince Isaac said… he said I’m supposed to marry James. He said I have to.”

Seraphina’s eyes widened in surprise, and then, much to Y/N’s confusion, she let out a soft, musical laugh. Her laughter was gentle, filled with love, as she shook her head slightly.

“Oh, did he now?”

Y/N nodded earnestly. “Yes, Mama. He said that because James will be king, I’ll have to marry him.”

“Well, my darling, sometimes little princes have big ideas. But don’t you worry yourself about that just yet.” Seraphina chuckled again, her eyes twinkling with amusement. She leaned down and kissed Y/N’s forehead softly.

Y/N’s eyes, still wide with curiosity, searched her mother’s face. “But… do I have to, Mama?”

Seraphina smiled warmly, brushing her fingers through Y/N’s hair. “You’re still so young, my sweet one. Right now, all you need to do is enjoy being you. Who you marry, what path you take—that is for the future to decide.”

Y/N’s lips curved into a small, thoughtful smile. She shifted slightly under the blanket, her hand brushing against something tucked beneath her pillow—a small, delicate daisy that James had given her earlier in the day. She had held onto it all afternoon, not sure what to do with it, but when night had fallen, she had placed it under her pillow for safekeeping. Now, as her fingers brushed against the soft petals, she felt a warmth bloom in her chest.

“I like staying here with you and Papa. I don’t want to leave.” Y/N murmured, her fingers gently closing around the flower.

Seraphina’s heart swelled with love for her daughter. She kissed Y/N’s forehead again, pulling the blanket up around her shoulders. “Then that’s all that matters right now,” she whispered. “You’ll always be our little girl, no matter where life takes you.”

Y/N’s eyes grew heavy again, the soothing sound of her mother’s voice lulling her toward sleep. Queen Seraphina stayed by her side, stroking her hair gently until Y/N’s breathing evened out and she drifted off into a peaceful slumber.

With a soft smile, Seraphina whispered one last time, “Sleep well, my love. You have plenty of time to decide who you’ll become.”

× × × ×

You sat on the balcony of your chambers, the soft evening breeze tugging at the edges of your robe as you slowly brushed your hair. The view of the gardens below, where your mother had once walked, usually brought you peace. Tonight, however, the air felt stifling. Your brother’s words still hung in the air, their weight pressing down on your shoulders like an unwelcome burden.

Marc stood in the doorway, watching you with that same stern expression he had worn since he became king. He had been pacing, delivering his decision like a royal decree, but you hadn’t been listening—not fully, anyway.

“You’ll leave for Monte Lune in a fortnight,” Marc repeated, his tone firm, as if trying to break through your defiance. “You are to marry James Barnes, the King of Monte Lune.”

You huffed, dragging the brush through your hair with a little more force than necessary.

“Are you serious?” You shot him a look over your shoulder, your eyes flashing with irritation. “I haven’t even met the man.”

Marc’s expression didn’t waver. “Yes, you have. You met him on your sixtg birthday.”

You laughed, the sound sharp and mocking. “Oh, that day. I barely remember it, Marc. His face is a blur. That was years ago.” You set the brush down, turning fully to face him, leaning back on the chair with your arms crossed. “And now I’m supposed to marry him?”

“Yes,” Marc said, his voice calm but unwavering. “You cannot refuse. The arrangements are already in place. The council has approved it, and I’ve given my blessing.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, your frustration bubbling over. “So, that’s it? You and the council decide my future, and I’m just supposed to smile and play along? What if I don’t want to leave? What if I want to stay here?”

Marc sighed, his patience clearly thinning. “Y/N, this is bigger than you. It’s about the kingdom, about securing our alliances.”

You stood abruptly, your frustration giving way to defiance. “And what if I don’t care about alliances? What if I’d rather stay here and—what was it you called it once?—become a spinster?”

Marc’s brow furrowed, but you could see the hint of exasperation in his eyes. “You’re not going to be a spinster, little sister. Stop being ridiculous.”

You smirked, stepping toward him, arms crossed. “Why not? Sounds like the only way I’ll get any freedom around here. Or maybe I’ll join a convent of nuns. Wouldn’t that be lovely? Peace, quiet, and no royal decrees dictating my every move.”

Marc’s face tightened, his voice growing more stern. “This isn’t a game. You can’t just—”

“Oh, I know it’s not a game,” you cut him off, your voice sharp. “It’s my life, Marc. I’m not just some piece on a chessboard that you can move around as you please. I love it here. I love this place, being surrounded by the memories of Mother and Father. And now you want to ship me off to some foreign kingdom to marry a man I don’t even know?”

Marc stepped closer, his voice softening, though his resolve remained firm. “I know you love it here. But you have a duty, Y/N. We all do. You’re my sister, and I love you, but this is what’s best for the kingdom.”

You shook your head, turning back toward the balcony, your fingers gripping the edge of the railing as you looked out over the gardens. “What’s best for the kingdom,” you muttered bitterly. “Always what’s best for the kingdom.”

Marc placed a hand on your shoulder, his voice gentler now. “I wouldn’t ask this of you if it wasn’t important. You know that.”

You didn’t respond, your gaze fixed on the distant horizon, the weight of his words sinking in, though the fire of your defiance still smoldered inside you.

× × × ×

“To be a queen is to understand that your strength lies not in how harshly you punish, but in how wisely you show compassion.”

Your late mother’s voice echoed in your head. But compassion felt like a distant concept now. How could you offer mercy when the very people you trusted had sought to control you, to weaken you, to strip you of the future you had hoped for?

The revelation of the poisoned tea still churned in your stomach, the betrayal sharp and unforgiving. They hadn’t just denied you the chance to conceive an heir—they had poisoned your very body, seeding destruction where there should have been life.

You clenched your hands at your sides, nails digging into your palms as you stood next to the Queen Dowager, your posture rigid. Everything around you felt distant, as though you were watching from outside your body, the events unfolding without your true presence. A trance had settled over you since the announcement at the Queen Dowager's birthday—since Bucky had declared Wanda as his consort.

The murmurs of the nobles like distant echoes. Your eyes were on the center of the hall, not really fixed on a certain space. Wanda, in a simple yet elegant gown, approached Bucky with the grace and poise she had always carried. She moved with confidence, but you could see the guilt of this moment in your friend's eyes. There was no joy here—only duty.

Bucky’s gaze flicked briefly toward you, you caught his gaze but you quickly looked away, and for a heartbeat, you thought you saw brokeness flash in his eyes. But it was gone as quickly as it appeared, replaced by the mask of a king fulfilling his obligations.

Wanda reached the center of the room, bowing deeply to Bucky. He acknowledged her with a nod, his eyes dark and unreadable.

The court official stepped forward, holding a scroll in one hand. His voice, clear and commanding, filled the hall.

"Lady Wanda Maximoff, you have been chosen to stand as consort to His Majesty, King James Barnes. Do you, of your own will, accept this role and pledge your loyalty to the crown and the king?"

"I accept." Wanda lifted her head, her voice steady though soft.

Bucky’s eyes didn’t leave her face as she spoke. You could barely breathe, your heart heavy in your chest. You knew this was coming. You knew what had to be done. But it still felt like a slow, torturous unravelling.

The official continued, "Please state your vow, Lady Maximoff."

Wanda straightened, her voice clear yet solemn. "I, Wanda Maximoff, pledge myself to the service of the crown and the king. I vow to stand beside you in loyalty and devotion, offering my counsel when sought, my presence in moments of celebration, and my discretion in matters of state. I do not seek the crown, but I offer my heart and my service to the good of the realm."

Bucky remained still as the official turned to him. "Your Majesty, do you accept Lady Wanda Maximoff as your consort, to stand beside you in loyalty and support, as a companion in duty?"

Bucky’s voice was firm, though there was a slight tremor that only those closest to him could detect. "I…accept."

Just as Bucky's voice finished echoing through the Great Hall, a loud crash reverberated from the entrance, the heavy wooden doors slamming open. All eyes turned as Prince Isaac strode in, dragging Sharon Carter behind him. Her dishevelled appearance and the shock on her face made the council members murmur in confusion.

Isaac's expression was one of cold fury, and his steps were unrelenting as he shoved Sharon forward into the center of the room, where the officiating ceremony had been taking place.

The Queen Dowager sat straighter, her sharp eyes narrowing as she assessed the situation. Bucky’s gaze immediately hardened, his entire posture stiffening as he watched his brother’s entrance with a dark suspicion.

Lord Carter, standing just to the side of the council members, blanched but quickly masked his shock. His face returned to a composed, unreadable expression, though his knuckles whitened as he gripped the edges of his coat. The flicker of recognition in his eyes did not go unnoticed by Isaac, who let out a humourless chuckle, his grip tightening on Sharon's arm as he forced her to her knees.

Steve, near the entrance, straightened, his arms dropping to his sides as he glanced between Isaac, Sharon, and Bucky, ready to intervene if necessary.

Isaac’s voice was cold, cutting through the murmurs like a blade. "Forgive the interruption, Your Majesty, but I thought you might want to know exactly what kind of games have been played behind your back."

Sharon tried to stand, her face pale, but Isaac’s grip held her down firmly. She winced, but her expression was one of defiance mixed with fear. The nobles around the room watched with baited breath, their eyes shifting nervously between the royal brothers.

Bucky’s eyes, now dark with rage, flicked to Sharon and then to his brother.

"Isaac," he began, his voice dangerously low, "what is this about?”

“Go on, Lady Carter,” Isaac's voice was calm, almost too calm, as he spoke again. “Why don't you enlighten everyone?”

He jerked her arm slightly, forcing her to kneel lower as she flinched. Her breath hitched, panic clear in her eyes. Sharon's gaze flickered once more toward Lord Carter, silently pleading for some kind of guidance, but her father stood unmoving, his face cold and composed. It was clear she was on her own.

Isaac's patience snapped.

With a quick, ruthless pull, he tightened his grip on Sharon's arm, his face darkening with an ominous threat. He leaned down, his lips dangerously close to her ear.

“If you don't start talking in the next five seconds, Sharon,” his voice dropped to a deadly whisper, "I'll make sure every secret you've ever tried to bury comes spilling out right here.”

Sharon’s chest rose and fell rapidly as the pressure built around her, Isaac’s grip relentless and his whispered threat still hanging in the air. She swallowed hard, her eyes darting from Isaac to her father. Panic twisted in her gut, and finally, the words tumbled from her lips, desperate and frantic.

“I—I was following orders,” she stammered, her voice cracking. “I didn’t have a choice! My father—Lord Carter—he told me to lace the queen’s tea with contraceptives—I never knew it was mixed with poison!”

The room fell into a stunned silence. Every pair of eyes turned to Lord Carter, the weight of accusation crashing down on him. For a moment, the room seemed frozen in time, the tension so thick it was almost suffocating.

Lord Carter blinked, his expression quickly shifting from surprise to calm composure. He stepped forward, his posture straight and regal, addressing the room with a voice that dripped with sincerity.

“My lords and ladies, this is a grave accusation,” he began, shaking his head slowly, as if the very notion were absurd. “Why would I, a loyal servant of the crown, seek to undermine my king and queen in such a way? This… this is madness.”

He turned to Sharon, his face twisted in disappointment, his voice now filled with a fatherly reprimand.

“Daughter, I understand the pressure of the court can be overwhelming, but to lie—to attempt to place blame on your own blood to save yourself? That is truly unbecoming.”

The murmur of the court grew louder as Lord Carter’s calm demeanor and measured words began to sway the room. His voice was smooth, convincing, and there was a flicker of doubt creeping into the faces of the nobles.

Sharon’s eyes widened, her jaw tightening as she realized what was happening. Her father was throwing her to the wolves, sacrificing her to save his own skin. Rage boiled beneath her trembling exterior, her hands balling into fists.

“Liar!” she spat, her voice trembling with fury. She struggled against Isaac’s grip, her eyes locked on her father. “You told me to do it! You wanted me to—”

Lord Carter shook his head again, cutting her off with a wave of his hand.

“Enough, Sharon. You’ve already done enough damage with your wild accusations.” His voice remained calm, but there was a coldness beneath his words that made Sharon’s blood run cold.

The nobles exchanged uneasy glances, the room divided between the seemingly composed Lord Carter and his increasingly frantic daughter. Sharon’s breathing grew heavier, her heart pounding in her chest as the realization set in—she was being betrayed by her own father, and there was nothing she could do to stop it.

As the room descended into chaos, the murmurs of the court growing louder with every passing second, a storm brewed inside you. The revelations of the past few days—the poisoned tea, the betrayal by those closest to you, the endless charade—had all built up like a tidal wave, threatening to crash over everything you held dear.

Sharon’s panicked pleas filled the room, her accusations piercing through the tense air, but it was Lord Carter’s cold, manipulative calm that sent a surge of fury through your veins. His smooth, convincing words aimed to bury the truth, to cast doubt over his daughter’s confessions, but you could see through him—his lies, his deceit.

The storm inside you was blinding. Your vision blurred, and all you could see was red as you charged forward, your gown billowing behind you like a cloak of fury. The rush of adrenaline coursed through your veins, every fiber of your being fueled by the injustice, the betrayal, and the lies that had suffocated you for too long.

Before anyone could react, you reached Lord Carter, your fist flying through the air with a force that surprised even you. The sharp, resounding smack echoed through the Great Hall as your knuckles connected with his face.

The court gasped in unison, shock rippling through the nobles as Lord Carter staggered back, a red mark blossoming on his cheek where your hand had struck him. His composed mask cracked, rage flaring in his eyes as he stared at you, dumbfounded.

“How dare you!” he sputtered, voice tight with humiliation as he raised a hand to his cheek. But you didn’t flinch.

The anger in your chest blazed into an uncontrollable fire. With a sharp intake of breath, you lunged forward, seizing a fistful of his hair. Your grip was ironclad, your fingers digging into his scalp as you yanked him closer, his composure entirely shattered. His startled shout echoed through the hall, his limbs flailing as he tried to pry himself free from your hold.

“You disgusting, spineless coward!” you spat, each word drenched in venom. “You poisoned me! You tried to control my body, my future—you think you can get away with that? You think you can deceive everyone here, twist the truth to suit your treachery?”

Around you, nobles shifted uneasily, a few trying to step forward to intervene, but you were a whirlwind of fury, your grip unyielding. “You’re nothing but a coward! A filthy traitor!”

Lord Carter clawed desperately at your hands, but you only yanked his head back harder, a fierce satisfaction in seeing him squirm under your grasp. He tried to speak, tried to muster some words of protest, but you gave him no chance, your words a relentless assault.

The hall erupted in chaos. Gasps, hurried whispers, and scattered pleas for calm filled the air, but you barely heard them. In the back of your mind, you registered approaching footsteps, felt a hand brush your shoulder. Yet you didn’t relent, leaning in closer to hiss through gritted teeth, “I won’t let you worm your way out of this!”

Suddenly, a firm arm looped around your waist, pulling you back with a surprising strength. You fought the hold, thrashing against it, but another arm wrapped around you, lifting you off the ground.

“Let go of me!” you shouted, thrashing against the unyielding grip, your fists still reaching out toward Lord Carter as he stumbled back, visibly shaken. “I’m not finished with him! That vile—"

“Enough,” a familiar voice murmured in your ear, gentle but firm. Bucky’s grip was unbreakable as he pulled you away, carrying you from the scene with your feet barely brushing the floor.

“Put me down!” you protested, your fury still burning hot as you twisted in his hold, casting a final, scathing glare at Lord Carter. “He doesn’t deserve to stand in this court! He’s a fraud—a poison!”

But Bucky’s hold didn’t loosen. He murmured your name softly, a quiet plea for calm as he tightened his arms around your waist. Despite your anger, the heat of his embrace began to seep into you, grounding you even as your chest heaved with fury.

You stilled, the last shouts of rage fading into breathless silence as he held you close, his presence the only thing keeping you from breaking free again.

Lord Carter’s face paled, the full weight of your words settling over the room. The tension was palpable, and for a brief moment, no one dared to speak. Even Isaac, who had been holding Sharon in place, watched you with a newfound intensity.

“Enough.” Bucky’s voice cut through the silence like a blade.

All eyes turned to him. His eyes darkened, a flash of the Winter Soldier rising to the surface for just a moment.

But he couldn’t lose control. Not now. Not in front of everyone.

Taking a deep breath, Bucky stepped forward, his movement demanding immediate attention. The hall fell into a heavy silence as the tension grew thicker. His eyes locked on Lord Carter, and though his voice was calm, the barely contained fury was evident beneath every word.

“Lord Carter,” Bucky began, his voice cold, dangerous. “These accusations—whether true or false—are not something to be brushed aside with mere words.” His gaze flickered briefly to Sharon, who remained trembling under Isaac’s grip, before returning to her father.

“If you think you can use your daughter as a shield to deflect responsibility, you’re gravely mistaken.”

Bucky’s fists clenched at his sides, the desire to lash out clear in his stiff posture, but he forced himself to remain steady.

“There will be an inquiry, a full investigation,” he continued, his tone leaving no room for argument. “And if any trace of treason is found—whether it leads to your daughter or yourself—you will both answer for it. Personally.”

The last word was a low growl, a promise rather than a threat. Bucky’s icy blue eyes never left Lord Carter’s, the weight of his authority and rage palpable. He was no longer just James Barnes—he was the king, and he wasn’t going to let this treachery slide.

Turning his attention briefly to Isaac, Bucky gave a curt nod. “Take them both to the dungeons. We’ll get to the truth soon enough.”

As Isaac moved to drag Sharon out of the hall, Bucky’s gaze flickered to you. There was a brief, almost imperceptible moment where the cold mask he wore cracked, and a hint of the man beneath—the one who hated seeing you caught in this mess—shone through. But it was gone in an instant, replaced by the king who had a court to manage and a betrayal to uncover.

He turned back to Lord Carter, who stood frozen, his calm demeanor now visibly strained.

“You,” Bucky commanded, his voice slicing through the air like a blade. “You will remain here until this is sorted out. Any attempt to flee will be seen as an admission of guilt.”

Before Lord Carter could so much as draw a breath, Steve stepped forward from his post near the entrance, his face set in stone. His voice was firm, carrying the weight of an order. “Guards, seize Lord Carter.”

Lord Carter’s composure cracked as the guards moved in, their hands firm on his arms as they began to escort him away. His face flushed with indignation, and he jerked his arm free from one of the guards, standing tall as if reclaiming his dignity.

"This is absurd!" he barked, his voice ringing through the hall. "You dare to lay hands on me? I am a loyal servant of the crown, and this is nothing but slander from a panicked girl trying to save herself!"

He turned sharply, his eyes darting between Bucky and Steve, his expression a mix of outrage and desperation. "There is no proof of these claims! No evidence! I will not be treated like a common criminal based on the hysterical accusations of my own daughter!"

Despite his protests, the guards tightened their grip, their movements unwavering as they led him toward the exit. Lord Carter struggled slightly, attempting to shake them off, his voice rising in anger. "You’ll regret this—mark my words! You’re making a grave mistake, Your Majesty!"

But Bucky remained unmoved, his cold gaze fixed on the scene, his jaw clenched as Lord Carter’s protests echoed behind him. The court watched in tense silence, the weight of Lord Carter’s protests doing little to sway the inevitable.

× × × ×

The hall fell into an eerie silence, the echoes of Lord Carter's protests fading as the heavy doors shut behind him. The tension hung thick in the air, the nobles exchanging uneasy glances as they tried to comprehend the spectacle they had just witnessed.

Pietro, standing close to Wanda, broke the silence with a tentative voice, his usual confidence faltering.

"What happens now?" He glanced at Bucky and then at the official standing awkwardly with the scroll in hand. "What happens with the ceremony?"

The room seemed to hold its breath, waiting for someone to speak, to bring clarity to the chaos that had disrupted what should have been a momentous occasion.

From the side of the room, the unmistakable voice of Nick Fury cut through the quiet like a knife. His arms were crossed, his one good eye sharp as it flicked between Bucky and the council.

"Well, that’s up to you, Your Majesty," he said, his tone carrying the weight of the decision. "You want to finish this ceremony, or does this little… interruption change things?"

All eyes turned to Bucky, the unspoken weight of his decision settling over the hall.

Bucky's eyes flicked toward you, his queen, the only steady thing in the storm that had just erupted in the hall. For a moment, his gaze softened, the weight of the decision pressing down on him as he searched your face for reassurance, for guidance. You met his gaze with unwavering calm, silently offering the support he needed.

Drawing a deep breath, Bucky squared his shoulders, and when he spoke, it was with the strength of both a king and a man who had made his choice.

“This ceremony was meant to be about loyalty, about securing the future of this kingdom,” he began, his voice steady yet carrying the unmistakable edge of conviction. His gaze moved from you, then to Wanda, lingering just long enough to acknowledge the turmoil she was feeling. “But it’s become something else entirely—a spectacle tainted by deceit.”

Wanda, standing beside Pietro, visibly tensed, her breaths shallow as if she had been holding onto the pressure of the moment. Bucky’s next words cut through the room like a blade.

“The ceremony is canceled,” Bucky declared, his voice firm, allowing no room for challenge. “I will not tie this kingdom’s future to a decision clouded by lies and manipulation. Wanda, you deserve better than this mess, and until the truth is fully revealed, we won’t move forward.”

Wanda’s shoulders sagged in visible relief, her lips parting as she let out a breath she didn’t even realize she had been holding. Pietro cast a glance at his sister, his own tension easing slightly as the room shifted uneasily.

Bucky's attention swept back to you, his eyes filled with gratitude and a silent promise, before turning back to the hall.

“Let this be clear,” he continued, addressing everyone now. “We will uncover the truth, and only then will decisions about this kingdom’s future be made. This ceremony is over.”

The room remained in stunned silence, the finality of his words echoing in the grand hall. Bucky had made his decision, and no one dared challenge the authority behind it. Wanda’s relief was palpable, and though the weight of unresolved matters still hung in the air, it was clear that Bucky had chosen the path that honored not only his kingdom but the trust he placed in you as his queen.

× × × ×

Bucky stood in the war room, leaning heavily against the grand oak table, his hands braced on its surface as he spoke in a low, determined voice. Isaac sat across from him, his arms crossed, watching his brother carefully. The Queen Dowager, Winnifred Barnes, was seated at the head of the table, her regal presence commanding the room, her sharp eyes flicking between her two sons.

“The Queen needs time away from this chaos,” Bucky began, his words laden with concern. “Everything that’s happening—Lord Carter, Sharon, the consort—it’s taken a toll on her. She wants to go to Zienna to recover, and I think it’s the right desicion. She deserves some peace.”

Winnifred’s gaze softened at the mention of Zienna.

“It’s a place of healing,” she murmured thoughtfully. “Yes, it would do her well. But Bucky, with matters still unresolved here, can you afford to leave just yet?”

“No, not yet. I’ll stay and see this through, for her sake and for the kingdom. But once this is handled, I’m going to Zienna to be with her. She shouldn’t have to endure all of this alone.” Bucky shook his head, a firm resolve settling in his expression.

Isaac’s brows knit together as he listened, then he leaned forward, his voice cautious. “You’re certain you can resolve things here in time? Lord Carter and Pierce won’t go down easily, and the court is still on edge.”

The Queen Dowager arched a brow, her tone matter-of-fact as she asked, “And then, who will run the kingdom in your absence? Even a week away is a long time during a crisis like this. You can’t simply leave without a strong hand at the helm.”

Isaac shifted in his chair, his sharp eyes narrowing as he caught the slight pause in Bucky’s words. He could already sense where this conversation was heading, and his expression hardened slightly.

Bucky straightened, his gaze drifting toward Isaac for just a moment. It wasn’t long, but it was enough to make Isaac’s shoulders tense. His younger brother narrowed his eyes, already understanding the weight of what Bucky was about to ask.

“Isaac,” Bucky started, his tone careful, but firm. “You’ve always had my back, always supported the crown when I needed you. And right now, I need you more than ever.”

Isaac’s jaw clenched as he sat up straighter, the realization hitting him fully. “You’re asking me to become Prince Regent, aren’t you?”

“Yes. Just for a short time, when I’m away. The kingdom needs stability, someone they can trust to lead in my place.”

Isaac’s eyes darkened as he leaned back in his chair, considering Bucky’s words. “You’re putting a lot on my shoulders, brother. Not just running the kingdom, but stepping into your role, even temporarily.”

“I trust you, Isaac,” Bucky replied, his voice unwavering. “And the people trust you. You’ve proven yourself time and time again. I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t believe you were the best choice.”

Winnifred, who had been watching the exchange silently, finally spoke, her voice measured.

“This is no small request, Isaac. Becoming Prince Regent means carrying the weight of the crown, and everything that comes with it.”

Isaac’s gaze flicked between his mother and his brother, the gravity of the situation settling heavily on him. He was a soldier, a warrior, but this—ruling in Bucky’s stead, even for a brief period—was different.

“You’re sure about this?” Isaac asked, his voice low but steady, his eyes locked on Bucky’s.

Bucky nodded, his expression sincere. “I am. There’s no one else I trust more.”

Isaac exhaled slowly, his fingers drumming lightly on the table as he mulled it over. He knew the responsibility, the risk. But he also knew he wouldn’t let his brother down.

“Alright,” Isaac finally said, his voice firm. “I’ll do it. I’ll be your Regent in your absence. But you better make sure Y/N gets the peace she needs. And don’t take too long.”

Bucky’s expression softened, gratitude evident in his eyes. “Thank you, Isaac. You don’t know what this means to me.”

Isaac gave a brief nod, though there was a flicker of reluctance in his gaze as he glanced at his mother. Winnifred’s eyes were sharp, watching her sons with a sense of pride, though there was also a hint of concern.

The Queen Dowager spoke once more, her tone gentler now. “You both know what’s at stake. The kingdom will need to see unity in this time of uncertainty. Isaac, you must be prepared for whatever may come. And Bucky…” Her eyes softened as she looked at her eldest son. “Take care of Y/N. But don’t forget—you are still king, and your people will need you to return.”.

“I’ll keep the throne warm for you, brother. Just don’t make a habit of this Regent business.”

“I won’t.” Bucky chuckled softly, the tension in the room easing just slightly.

After Winnifred left the room, a heavy silence settled between Bucky and Isaac. Their conversation lingered in the air, and for a moment, neither of them spoke. Isaac sighed heavily, rubbing the back of his neck as he leaned back in his chair.

“So, that’s one down,” Isaac muttered, referring to the traitors, his tone low and tired. His sharp eyes were still clouded with thoughts about the looming investigation, but there was also a simmering reluctance buried deep inside him.

Then, as if trying to shake off the seriousness, he shifted, raising an eyebrow and glancing at Bucky.

“Sooo… Prince Regent?” Isaac asked, his tone light but the underlying tension unmistakable.

Bucky could feel his brother’s reluctance, the hesitation in his words. Isaac had always preferred to be on the battlefield, not tied to the throne. Bucky chuckled softly under his breath, leaning against the table as if to ease the seriousness of the situation.

"If I’m not successful in securing an heir, eventually, I’ll have to name you the heir," Bucky said, a smirk playing on his lips, though his voice carried a hint of truth beneath the jest.

Isaac froze for a moment, his expression darkening at the joke. His eyes flicked to Bucky, clearly not amused.

“Don’t joke about that.”

“I’m not joking, Isaac.” Bucky raised an eyebrow, his tone shifting to something more serious.

Isaac stiffened, the idea clearly unsettling him. "You are the king. You have the duty to secure the throne’s future, not me. I’m no heir. I never wanted to be."

“I know you didn’t. But if something happens, if I’m gone, the people will need someone they can trust. That’s you.” Bucky’s expression softened, but he didn’t back down.

"You’re not going anywhere, Bucky. And you will secure an heir. That’s not my responsibility." Isaac shook his head slightly, frustration evident in the lines of his face.

Bucky met Isaac’s gaze head-on, his voice calm but unyielding. "You’re my brother. If anything happens, I trust you to take care of things. Even if it means stepping into a role you never wanted."

Isaac’s jaw tightened, his hands curling into fists at his sides. He hated the thought, the very idea of being king. It went against every instinct he had. But the way Bucky looked at him—earnest, unwavering—made it clear this wasn’t just a hypothetical conversation.

“I won’t let it come to that,” Isaac muttered, though his words lacked conviction.

Bucky gave a small, knowing smile.

“Neither will I.”

But the unspoken truth hung in the air between them—neither of them could control everything, and the future was always uncertain.

After a moment, Bucky pushed away from the table and clapped Isaac on the shoulder, the brief moment of tension passing. “But for now, just take care of the kingdom when I go. That’s all I’m asking.”

Isaac huffed, shaking his head but relenting. “Fine. But don’t get too comfortable when you follow her to Zienna. I’m not planning to wear a crown anytime soon.”

Bucky laughed softly, the tension easing as he gave his brother a lighthearted grin. “I’ll be back before you can get used to the title, Your Highness.”

Isaac groaned, rolling his eyes. “Don’t push it.”

× × × ×

The morning air was crisp, a cool breeze sweeping through the courtyard as Bucky stood near the stables, watching you prepare for the journey. Dressed in riding clothes, you held yourself firm, though the weight of recent events settled heavily on your shoulders. Nearby, a carriage stood loaded with supplies, but it remained untouched—you’d insisted on riding, preferring the speed and maneuverability of a horse in case of an ambush. Around you, the best warriors waited in silent readiness, forming a protective entourage. Scott, a trusted friend, adjusted the reins of his horse beside yours, prepared to accompany you to Zienna.

Bucky’s gaze lingered on you, taking in the determination in your eyes and the tension you couldn’t fully hide. As you approached him, he stepped forward, his presence grounding and warm.

“My love,” he murmured, reaching for your hand, his fingers gentle but firm as he held your gaze. “I know things haven’t been easy. But I need you to know—I’ll join you in Zienna as soon as everything is settled here.”

You nodded, looking down for a moment, your fingers tightening around his.

“I understand,” you replied softly, voice tinged with the exhaustion you’d been holding back. “But why do I feel like we’re always meant to be seperated. . . I don’t have a good feeling about this, James.”

His hand rose to your cheek, his thumb brushing lightly against your skin. “Everything will be fine, then when I’m finished here, I’ll be there. I promise.”

You managed a small, wavering smile, meeting his gaze with a quiet resolve. “I’ll be waiting for you, Bucky.”

He smiled gently, leaning forward to press his forehead against yours, letting your breaths mingle in a shared, comforting silence.

“I wish you Godspeed,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “Scott and the others will keep you safe, but still… take care of yourself.”

Blinking back the emotions that threatened to surface, you nodded. “And you. Don’t let them wear you down. Remember, I’m waiting for you.”

His hand tightened around yours, a silent reassurance. “I won’t let anything stop me from coming to you,” he vowed, the weight of his promise heavy between you.

For a moment, you stood there, suspended in quiet intimacy, until Scott cleared his throat gently. “Your Majesty, we should get moving if we want to reach the first checkpoint before nightfall.”

You nodded, your gaze lingering on Bucky’s as you reluctantly let go of his hand. With one last look, you turned and mounted your horse, steadying yourself as Scott and the warriors took their places around you.

As you rode through the gates, you glanced back, catching Bucky’s gaze one final time. He lifted a hand in farewell, his expression both resolute and tender—a silent reminder of his promise.

× × × ×

In the war room, Bucky stood at the head of the long, ancient table, his gaze hardened and his hands clenched at his sides. The air was thick with tension, the weight of recent revelations pressing down on everyone in attendance. Prime Minister Fury, Lord Stark, Lord Thor, and Lord Pietro surrounded him, their expressions equally grave. Isaac, who had been coordinating the efforts on the ground, stood beside Bucky, arms crossed, a look of fierce resolve in his eyes.

Lord Carter’s arrest had been a momentary victory, but it had sent Pierce scurrying into hiding, an alarming development that left Bucky with more answers. Sharon’s confession had revealed Haynesworth’s involvement—a coward now willing to cooperate under pressure. Yet despite this, the scale of Pierce’s plan remained daunting.

Isaac broke the silence, his voice a steady cadence of grim pragmatism. “My men and I have been able to weaken Pierce’s forces. The mercenaries we’ve detained have given us some insight into his network, but it’s clear we’re still facing a significant threat. Pierce has more men, well-funded and positioned, not just mercenaries, but soldiers loyal to him and his cause.”

Lord Thor frowned, the muscles in his jaw tightening.

“A coup,” he murmured, barely containing the disgust in his voice. “He’s not simply out for power; he’s mobilising the people, stirring resentment. He’s been playing on their fears for longer than we realized.”

“Indeed,” Fury added, leaning forward. “The arrests, the reduced supplies to outlying towns, the instability—he’s planted seeds that we’re only now starting to see bear fruit. He’s crafted his campaign to draw as many as he can to his side, creating the appearance that the crown is to blame for their struggles.”

Bucky’s gaze darkened, his jaw clenching as he processed their words. His kingdom was under attack from within, and the loyalty of his people was being manipulated by a man willing to incite chaos for his own gain.

“We can’t let Pierce continue to spread his poison,” Bucky said, his voice low but resonant. “If he manages to incite a full-scale rebellion, we risk losing not just the throne, but the very unity of this kingdom. . . Luckily Lord Starks provision of food and supplies weakened his campaign?”

Isaac nodded in agreement, his expression cold and focused. “I’ve had my men infiltrate some of Pierce’s hideouts, and we’re intercepting his communications where we can, but it’s not enough to turn the tide. If we’re to shut him down, we’ll need to identify his main camps and disrupt his resources—especially his connections to sympathetic lords who may still be in hiding.”

Lord Stark, ever the strategist, leaned back thoughtfully. “Pierce’s resources are formidable, but he can’t stay on the run without outside help. There’s a network feeding him, sheltering him, financing his troops. We’ll need to isolate and dismantle that network, one link at a time.”

Isaac’s voice took on an edge. “It’s not only Pierce’s direct allies we need to worry about. He’s stirred unrest among the common folk. They believe his lies about the crown, and that loyalty to him could grant them relief from the hardships they’ve suffered. That’s why he’s growing stronger.”

Fury added, “The situation’s delicate. If we move too brashly, we could reinforce Pierce’s narrative that the crown’s oppressing the people. But if we delay, he gains more ground. We’re working against time—and perception.”

Bucky exhaled sharply, frustration simmering just below the surface. He knew they had to strike with precision, neutralizing Pierce without alienating the kingdom they sought to protect. His gaze flicked toward Isaac, the only one who fully understood the precarious balance between strength and subtlety that Bucky faced.

“Isaac,” Bucky began, his voice resolute, “you’ve already done a damn good job of weakening their numbers. But we need more. I want a detailed strategy. Find their supply lines, their contacts in every town on the kingdom’s edge. Cut them off, quietly. And Haynesworth—press him until he reveals every name, every hideout, every ally Pierce has.”

Isaac gave a grim nod, the hint of a smirk touching his lips. “Consider it done. Pierce’s men may think they’re loyal, but everyone has a breaking point. We’ll use it to our advantage.”

Bucky’s gaze shifted to Stark and Fury.

“And we’ll need to address the people’s concerns. Show them that the crown isn’t neglecting their needs. Send more food and relief to the outer regions. Make it clear that Pierce’s attempts to block supplies were part of his campaign to weaken the kingdom.”

Fury’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully. “A good move. If we can reach the people directly, we can begin to counter Pierce’s influence. But it’ll take more than supplies. They need to see a strong, united crown—one that stands in defiance of Pierce’s lies.”

Bucky clenched his fists, determination etched into every line of his face. He wouldn’t let his kingdom fall to traitors, nor would he allow Pierce’s influence to taint the loyalty of his people. With Isaac, Fury, Stark, and the others, he would strike hard and fast.

× × × ×

Lord Alexander Pierce sat in the dimly lit chamber of his hideout, his face a mask of restrained fury as he processed the recent setbacks. His usually composed demeanor was fractured, his jaw clenched tightly as he seethed over the news of Lord Carter’s imprisonment and Haynesworth’s cowardice. He had carefully woven his network of allies over the years, a web of loyalists and useful puppets, yet one by one, they were beginning to unravel.

“Imbeciles,” he muttered, his gaze cold and distant as he paced the room. He knew that with Carter locked away and Haynesworth under palace protection, his own position was more vulnerable than ever.

Pierce’s attention was drawn to a shadowed figure near the doorway. One of his most trusted operatives, a man whose services were as lethal as they were discreet, waited silently, prepared for any orders. Pierce’s gaze settled on him, the weight of his decision already clear.

“Haynesworth has betrayed us,” Pierce said, his voice low, barely above a whisper. “He has exposed us to the crown, and he knows too much. We can’t allow him to hide under palace protection and think he’s safe.” He took a step closer, his eyes glinting with dark intent. “See to it that he and his family are eliminated.”

The operative nodded, a glimmer of satisfaction in his eyes. “It will be done, my lord.”

Pierce waved him away with a flick of his wrist, his mind already spinning with plans to stabilize the crumbling foundation of his revolt. But his contemplation was interrupted by the entrance of another figure—the leader of the mercenaries he had enlisted, a hulking, scarred brute with wild eyes and a snarl that twisted his face into something menacing.

The mercenary leader stomped forward with heavy, brutal steps, his broad, muscled arms crossed over his chest. His gaze fixed Pierce with an unyielding stare, the barely concealed rage in his eyes making it clear he was not a man of patience.

“We had a deal,” he growled, his voice like the scrape of iron on stone. “My men and I have risked much for you, but the royal vaults remain untouched. My men are getting restless. They want blood and gold, not empty promises.”

Pierce clenched his teeth, forcing himself to keep his composure. “And you shall have it,” he replied smoothly. “But we must act with precision. Rushing into the palace is not an option yet.”

The mercenary leader let out a guttural laugh, baring his teeth in a fierce grin that was anything but friendly. “We’ve been patient enough. Your plan’s unraveling, and my men won’t sit around much longer. If we don’t strike soon, they’ll get their gold elsewhere—even if it’s from the crown’s own coffers.”

Pierce’s eyes narrowed, his mind racing. He knew he had to maintain control over these mercenaries—they were his strongest line of offense. But he couldn’t afford an all-out assault on the palace until the right moment.

“You will have your prize,” Pierce said, his tone icy and firm. “But we do this on my terms. You’ve seen the chaos I’ve sewn within the court; the crown is weakened, and soon their defenses will be as well. An attack on the palace will come—but it must be swift and decisive.”

The mercenary leader leaned in close, his breath reeking of ale, his voice a low, savage rumble. “I’ve lost good men holding back for you, Pierce. We want our share, and if you won’t give it, we’ll take it ourselves. We’re done sitting on our asses.”

Pierce held his gaze, unflinching, though inside, he felt his grip on the situation slipping. He couldn’t allow a reckless assault that might undo all of his careful planning. But he couldn’t lose control of the mercenaries, either.

With a deep breath, he straightened, his gaze hardening. “Very well,” Pierce conceded, though his mind was already working through contingencies. “Begin preparations for an infiltration. We will test the palace’s defenses, probe for weaknesses. If we find a vulnerability, we will exploit it.” His lips curved into a thin smile. “But remember—do not underestimate the crown. This kingdom will fall by our hand, but only if we strike with precision.”

The mercenary leader’s barbaric grin returned, revealing broken, jagged teeth as he gave a curt nod. Without another word, he turned and stomped out of the chamber, leaving Pierce alone in the dark, the weight of the plan settling heavily on his shoulders.

Pierce clenched his fists, his mind sharp and focused as he considered the stakes. The royal vaults, the crown, the kingdom itself—they would all be his. But first, he would have to make every piece on the board move exactly as he commanded.

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