#also cascade kingdom too

[saltytwi]

hey. hey i cant really find much stuff about this on youtube. does anyone care about the worldbuilding in super mario odyssey. am i alone. guys

[ssivinee]

❇︎Global Domination❇︎

BEBE! Bada Lee x OC Team! F Reader: Finally, in Korea, your crew was about to experience the brutality of the Korean dance scene, but you seemed to enjoy it more than others thought.

Word Count: 4.5k

Note: I had too much fun while making this one ngl😭. Also, the following isn't following the accuracy of the actual show.

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Two weeks had passed since your crew's arrival in Korea, and a sense of anticipation had replaced the initial excitement of exploring the country. Today marked the first day of filming for Street Woman Fighter 2, and the girls were a mix of nervousness and excitement as they sat in the van, awaiting their moment.

As the van pulled up to the venue, you all stepped out and were met with the sight of the massive "Street Woman Fighter" logo emblazoned on the black building. A surge of determination flowed through the team. You gathered the girls and delivered an encouraging pep talk.

"Let's walk in there confidently and show them we're ready for a fight," you urged. The group nodded in agreement, and with a collective display of charisma, you all strode towards the entrance. The cameras started rolling before you even set foot inside the building.

In an attempt to boost the team's morale, you led the way, strutting with confidence and casting a sly, determined look at the cameras. You wanted to show that your crew was ready to showcase their talent on this international stage.

With your newly dyed blonde hair cascading over your shoulder, you struck a fierce pose, setting the tone for the team. The others couldn't help but giggle at your confident display, but they quickly followed suit, standing beside you and posing with equal charisma. As you entered the building, all eyes fell on the trophy presented for every crew, a tangible symbol of the challenge ahead.

"Whoa," Athena exclaimed, her eyes widening at the sight of the trophy. "This is so cool," Maya added, practically shaking with energy. You smiled at the younger members of the team and urged them to move forward. "Let's get into our rooms. Come on."

The crew entered a long corridor, marveling at the colorful doors lining the hallway. It was an unexpected sight, and the attempt at intimidation was noticeable as you walked past each door. The girls couldn't resist glancing at the blackboards of the other crews, sharing amused comments about some and the not-so-friendly state of 1Million's board.

Outside the forest-green door, you paused, eyeing the blank blackboard. "So, what do you guys want to write?" Athena, ever the joker, took the marker and playfully pushed the team aside. She wrote in green, presenting the board with jazz hands.

"SWF 2 is our kingdom?" Bell read aloud, and the team shared approving smiles. "I like it."

As everyone entered your hideout, you translated the statement into Korean, writing it boldly. Meanwhile, inside, the girls chatted excitedly as they waited for the signal, settling into the room.

Unbeknownst to you and your crew, the other teams were also buzzing with anticipation. The addition of three international teams, including yours, had sent ripples of excitement through the domestic participants. With well-known crews like yours on the stage, the competition had just gotten even more thrilling, and everyone was eager to see what each crew would bring to the battle. The Korean teams, in particular, couldn't hide their surprise and curiosity as they watched your introduction on the screen.

“THREE GLOBAL TEAMS?”

“Lotus? No shot.”

“As in the famous dance teacher?”

“It couldn’t have just ended at Tsubakill, huh?”

The TV screen was dominated by your striking image, and your impressive accomplishments filled the other half. The teams gathered around, and as they absorbed the information, a wave of awe and curiosity swept through the room.

"Dude, the list just goes on and on," Nob of Lady Bounce pointed out. Your credentials went beyond choreographing for artists; it extended to years of victorious battles, securing numerous first and second-place finishes.

"All the battles are first or second place," Yeni Choi of Wolf’Lo noted, her eyes scanning the extensive list. "I thought we would be the only battlers here. I guess not," Baby Sleek chimed in, emphasizing the competitive edge that your crew and Mannequeen brought to the competition.

Another team, on the other hand, couldn't contain their excitement. "Lotus? Is this for real?" Minah gasped into her hands while the other girls stared at the screen, the younger members of the team eagerly fangirling over your face. "She's so pretty," Tatter mumbled, her astonishment evident, and Lusher nodded in agreement.

Their leader remained silent, captivated by your beauty and entranced by the information on the screen.

Bada knew exactly who you were – the famous Y/n Pereira, aka Lotus. Your reputation extended to both choreography for artists in the States and work with Korean trainees. The presence of not just Kirsten but also you, a well-known figure in the dance world, made Bada contemplate the upcoming competition.

Describing Bada's feelings as mere excitement would be an understatement. She was intrigued, thrilled, and stunned by your presence on the show. Your seductive gaze on the screen felt hypnotic, and she couldn't wait to see you in person. Her body warmed with anticipation, though she concealed it well, all while looking forward to the upcoming challenges.

As your crew sat in the green room, the TV’s abrupt, loud sound had Maya scared, a loud yelp coming from her. The girls giggled as you clapped your hands, “Alright, let’s get it, girls.”

Before you walk into the fight zone, your eyes linger along the long walkway. “This place is massive,” you hear Emi whisper, marveling over the size of the production. “They're being serious about this season,” Serena mumbles, the first time you heard the quiet girl’s voice today. 

Leading your team down the stairs, the fight zone buzzed at the sight of your team's presence. “Wha~, they’re so tall,” Yoonji points out, feeling the pressure of the final crew.

“They can all be models.”

“Having beauty and the skills to dance is unfair.”

“They’re like goddesses in front of us.”

As the comments and speculations about you filled the room, you couldn't help but smirk in response, an air of intrigue surrounding you. The reactions didn't go unnoticed, and other teams began to wonder about your background.

"Does Lotus know Korean?" Cheche mumbled to her leader, who responded with a shrug. "I mean, she is half, so maybe she does?"

Bada's reaction, however, remained subtle but striking. The moment she laid eyes on you in person, she was taken aback. Seeing you up close made her question whether the cameras had done justice to your beauty. She hadn't expected the long blonde hair, but it left no room for complaints. You appeared angelic in the green dress that accentuated your tall, commanding figure, and the black-heeled boots added to the authoritative presence you radiated. Your presence was truly captivating.

“A video should be showing,” you tell the girls, and everyone hears your soothing voice. The team stood beside you as the video played, showing your group choreography to ‘Pump It’ by the Black Eyed Peas. You watch with a smile adorning your face, finding the piece fun to see all over again. That didn’t last for long, as comments started rolling in.

“They’re good. The world of dance respects them, that’s for sure,” JJ of DeepNDap explains, and Gooseul could be seen nodding beside her. “Their dance styles are way too different, though.” It switches to Harimu of 1Million, and you nod, acknowledging her words. 

“I picked a variety for a reason,” you calmly state in Korean, shocking the other crews who were unaware you spoke the language.

Jam Republic is then put on the screen, Audrey speaking about you guys, “They’re probably our biggest rivals,” the other girls nod. Kirsten follows up, “Not because they're another international crew, but having versatility in style puts them at a high advantage.” You smile, Kirsten getting your thought process right away.

“We still beat them in battles, though,” Baby Sleek says, and Heachi laughs, “They dont seem that strong in that aspect, only Lotus.” You can only smirk. They were underestimating your crew's abilities, and they were about to be in for a ride. The no-respect stickers appeared, and it made you laugh. You and Emi had one, Athena had two, while Serena had 4. Boy, these girls were going to be surprised, that's for sure.

Your section was beside Lady Bounce, directly facing Bebe. So, as you take your seats, Bada’s eyes never left your figure. She was truly in a trance, staring at you as you talked to Serena, who sat right behind you.

“Unnie, you might burn holes into her,” Minah teases the older girl from behind, and Bada shakes off her comment, trying to focus on the show again.

The loud bass then scares the crews again, telling them the games are about to begin. Each of the girls cheered seeing Kang Daniel strut down with his cue cards in hand. “Hello. Welcome to the Mnet original dance series, Street Woman Fighter 2. I’m your MC, Kang Daniel.”

“This season, global crews have joined us, making this a bigger international dance competition. You’ll fight to crush all the other crews, and reach the top. Only one crew can do that.”

As the girls listened closely to their translator, you held a fist, gesturing a crushing motion on your other hand. Not noticing Bada does the same thing, Tatter laughs, “You guys are like soulmates or something,” she teases. Bada’s ears grow slightly red at the comment.

“We’ll be starting with Mnet’s iconic mission. No respect, battle with the weakest dancer,” everyone cheers at the announcement. “Alright, now please change for the battles. We’ll meet back here in the fight zone.”

The crews began to head up, but before you could make it to the stairs, you felt a hand tug on your arm. You peak over your shoulder and see Kirsten standing there with a wide, eager smile.

You wrap your arms on her shoulder as the two of you walk up the stairs with your crews following behind you. “How have you been?” You question the shorter girl and she pats your waist. “I’m doing amazing, love. I’ve missed you,” she explains, and you can’t help but giggle at your long time friend.

“I’ve missed you too,” you tell her, and you never noticed all the stares the two of you got. Soweon looks at the duo, shocked at the sight. “They’re close?” The youngest of team Bebe can’t help but ask. “It seems so,” Kyma says and Bada looks at the two dancers confusingly.

She was aware that a lot of the Jam Republic dancers were friends, but she didn’t know you two would be so close. Her eyes travel to Kirsten’s hand that is placed comfortably on your lower waist and Bada wonders how close you two truly are. 

She couldn’t think about that, not right now at least. Her main objective should be the competition, not you.

When all of you reach your hideouts, the girls feel the rush of adrenaline kicking in, flushing out any nerves they had before. Everyone had changed, and you stood there stretching as Emi talked, “Let’s go out there, have fun, and feel the music.”

“Do what you usually do, guys,” you finish up the words of encouragement. The younger dancers smile at their leader and sub-leader, finding their validation calming. You all head out to the fight zone once again and only see Jam, Bebe, Lady Bounce, and Wolf’Lo down there. So you had the chance to mingle with the pink crew.

“Auds!” You greet the youngest girl on JR, and the sound of your voice has the girl jumping. “Lo!”

You had worked with Audrey multiple times in the States, and seeing her again after several months made your heart swell. The girl felt like a younger sister you never had. Even your younger brothers complained that she seemed more like your sibling compared to them.

“God, I haven’t seen you in so long. Don’t think I forgot about you, Ling.” You hug the oldest member of their team, who gives you a warm hug. “Lo, this is Latrice and Emma, by the way,” Kirsten introduces you to the unfamiliar girls, and you shake their hands.

The other three crews watch your interaction, wondering how you knew the girls of Jam. You had gone to New Zealand several times for workshops, and you had the privilege to meet the Royal Family multiple times during their competition seasons.

“She can literally make anything look so good,” Bada mumbles, taking in your natural outfit that was simple yet stylish. “Unnie, let’s not fall in love too fast now,” Lusher jokes, and Bada groans, leaning her head back. “You guys really won't leave me alone about this. Just let me be~” Bada whines slightly, but the pitch of her voice alerts you, and you make eye contact for the first time today.

Bada practically freezes as you give her a friendly smile. You took in the other tall girl’s appearance, finding the choice of outfit insanely attractive.

Now, Bada didn’t know if she was going crazy, but if you were checking her out, she was about to pass out. You were about to walk over and introduce yourself, but when you saw Tsubakill come down, Akanen ran over to you, hugging you eagerly.

The sounds of the Japanese leader giggling as she called you "Lotus-san" didn't go unnoticed by Bada. It seemed that you knew all the Jam Republic dancers except for her. This new realization left Bada with a sense of sadness. After all, you had visited Korea several times, and as a member of Jam Republic, she contemplated why the two of you hadn't crossed paths before. The absence of any prior interaction left her wondering what might have prevented such a meeting.

The others begin to trickle in as Daniel begins to announce again. “Now, let me introduce the other three fight judges who will be the judges of your dance-offs. She's a dancer with unique moves who was born to be a woman of power. The leader of Prowdman, Monika!” The dancer of season one runs in, showing the choreography she made. “The artist is known for his powerful and sexy performance. The leader and main dancer of Monsta X, Shonwu!” Some of the dancers began to dance Shoot Out, and you laugh, seeing Harimu really feeling it.

“Let me introduce the special judge for this battle. The leader of the worldwide renowned dance crew, the Kinjaz. Mike Song!” The three international crews visibly calm down, seeing a judge who can help judge them with no bias.

Not that Monika or Shownu would, but Mike Song felt like the international safety net. The dance battles began, and first off was Redy. She teased, coming over to the front of your crew before turning around and calling out Bada.

As you observed the interactions and conversations around you, it became apparent that there might be some underlying history between Bada and the young dancer. However, as you looked at Bada, her calm demeanor and relaxed stance made you wonder if the hostility was more one-sided than it seemed. Her self-assured confidence was an attractive quality that caught your attention, and you appreciated her presence as she stood before you.

As "Temple" by Baauer began playing, Redy took the stage, executing a series of movements, including a spinning fan kick. Despite your prior knowledge of Redy's skills, this performance didn't seem to showcase her best. The routine felt somewhat lackluster, with repetitive spins and points, and you couldn't shake the feeling that Redy was blending into the stage too much, almost disappearing.

Leaning your head on your fist, you counted down as the performance came to an end. "Five, four, three, two, one. Switch! BEBE’s Bada." The song "BBHMM" by Rihanna started playing, and your intrigue heightened. You sat up straight, eager to see if Bada lived up to the reputation you had seen in videos.

Bada began with a spin and immediately invaded Redy's personal space, using her height to intimidate. A laugh escaped your lips as she playfully swept the top of Redy's head. As the song progressed, Bada's performance unfolded with pops and gun gestures, and despite not being the most exceptional at freestyle, her energy and aura carried each movement flawlessly, keeping the audience entertained.

"She definitely knows how to use energy to her advantage. A true performer," you remarked to Emi, leaning closer. "Oh, for sure. All the crews are hyped up because of her."

Bada utilized her lengthy body with a mix of sexy moves, including kneeling on the floor, thrusting, and body rolling. The performance reached its climax as Bada bit a piece of paper and blew it out, concluding her dance. Your thoughts solidified – you were definitely intrigued by her.

Well, not her specifically, but her dance. 

There's no harm in getting close to another Jam Republic dancer, right? You smirk at the thought, and as the judges reveal three light blue cards, you nod while clapping your hands. “Rightfully so.”

The battles continued, and the cheers from every crew echoed in the arena. Your cheers were particularly deafening during Audrey's battles, as the rest of your crew hadn't taken the stage yet. Audrey consistently showcased her freestyle prowess, outclassing many of the other contestants.

As the battles progressed, it was now Kirsten's turn, and you braced yourself for the unexpected. You knew she wouldn't pick someone she considered weak. Kirsten sought a challenge, a display of power. You couldn't help but smile at the anticipation when she stood up with a devious laugh.

"The person I pick as my no-respect dancer is…" Kirsten started in the middle of the stage but then moved to the far corner, standing in the vicinity of your crew. "Lotus."

A chuckle bubbled up from deep within as you rose from your seat. The ripple of surprise spread through the crowd, amplifying the shock, particularly due to the assumed friendship between you and Kirsten.

The spotlight seemed to intensify as you stood, focusing on the unexpected choice. The question lingered in the air like a suspended note waiting to be played. Daniel directed a question with a quizzical expression towards Kirsten, breaking the silence over the arena.

"Kirsten, why did you choose Lotus as your no-respect dancer?" The question hung in the air, prompting not just curiosity from the spectators but also an air of anticipation as if the answer held the key to unraveling a mysterious connection between you and Kirsten.

“I wanted a challenge, and I know she can give me that,” Kirsten announces, and everyone goes ‘oo,’ finding her words cool and respectable. “Let’s have some fun?” You ask through the mic, and the other leader nods as the crews get excited for this one.

“Leader versus leader? This is gonna be good,” you hear from behind you. “Kirsten and Lotus was a battle I wasn’t expecting, but I’m not complaining about it.”

You hear ‘Get Ur Freak On’ by Missy Elliot, and you can’t help the amused look on your face. You knew she would kill it, and you were ready for that. Kirsten starts, moving her hips and waist like water, and your face looks disgusted, an impression of how well her body moved.

As an amazing performer the Jam Republic leader was, Bada could only watch you as your body swayed ever so lightly on the sidelines. When Kirsten hits some moves of afro dance, you bite your bottom lip, finding the movement sensual as her gaze never leaves yours. “Lotus hasn’t even started dancing, and she’s already feeling the music,” Tatter points out, almost breathless at the two of you on stage.

It all seemed a blur for BEBE, but they then heard ‘Backseat Freestyle’ by Kendrick Lamar, and you jump around hyping everyone up. As the chorus hits, you pop your chest, throw your arms around your head, and quickly reverse it. Your aggressive stomps had people rowdy. The Krump style being used made everyone wild, as your lengthy body had so much power.

As you belligerently use your arms, the other crews stared at you, feeling many mixed emotions. Krump wasn’t a “clean” style and it wasn't common for women in Korea to use this style. So actually seeing a Korean woman do it, made them feel somewhat gratified. You finish off by kneeling, your heavy breaths were visible as your chest rose up and down. 

The standing ovation was a testament to the intensity and brilliance of your performance with Kirsten. As you both bowed multiple times, soaking in the applause, the judges' faces revealed their struggle to reach a decision. In a rare moment for the show, all three judges displayed both pink and dark green cards, leaving everyone, including the audience, in gasps of surprise.

"All three? That’s insane," Minah exclaimed, capturing the sentiments of those witnessing the unprecedented outcome. The smiles exchanged between you and Kirsten suggested a shared desire for a rematch.

Returning to your positions, their was anticipation in the air. The prospect of both of you dancing simultaneously added a layer of complexity. Both you and Kirsten were known for utilizing a lot of space in your performances. The question loomed in your mind—how would this dynamic unfold?

You heard ‘Good Feeling’ by Flo Rida and everyone starts clapping at the hype song. The two of you mimic the lyrics, ‘oh~ sometimes, I get a good feeling,’ and you hit a propeller kick. Everyone screamed as you did a Windmill and followed up with an Airflare.

Bada’s eyes could leave your body as you spun and flipped. “How the hell does she move like that?” She asked, and it was a very good question. It has the other girls excited and intimidated at the same time. Who was gonna be able to beat you?

Kirsten seamlessly followed your lead, playing around your spinning body with a synchronicity that showcased the enjoyment shared between the two of you. The energy was infectious, and it wasn't long before everyone, including the judges, joined in on the collective enjoyment.

As the duo battle reached its conclusion, the applause echoed through the arena once again. "As expected from two big international dancers," Bada remarked, her statement met with nods of agreement from the younger members who were still in awe of the mesmerizing performance. The collaboration between you and Kirsten had not only met expectations but had exceeded them, leaving a lasting impression on everyone present.

The judges deliberated, their expressions revealing the weight of their decision. Finally, three green cards were revealed, and a sigh of relief escaped your lips. Pulling Kirsten into a celebratory hug, the victory felt like a culmination of the collaborative effort between you two. As you settled back into your seat, your team erupted in applause, a collective acknowledgment of the well-deserved success.

"Killed that shit, girl!" Ball exclaimed, her enthusiasm contagious, prompting laughter from you. "No, literally," Maya chimed in with a playful remark, adding a touch of humor to the celebratory atmosphere. The camaraderie within the team mirrored the triumph on stage, creating a moment of shared accomplishment and joy.

Other battles continued and after 30 minutes, it was finally time for a 10 minute break. 

Taking a moment to confer with your team, you couldn't shake the feeling of someone's eyes on you. Scanning the room, your gaze landed on Bada, and she didn't look away. A small wave from her drew you in, prompting you to excuse yourself from your team with a smile.

Approaching Bada's team, you noticed her adjusting herself to face you properly. "Bada-nim?" you greeted respectfully.

"Lotus," she replied, bowing as she remained seated. "It’s an honor to meet the most viral choreographer right now."

You reciprocated with a bow, but Bada swatted her hand, appearing slightly embarrassed by the acknowledgment. The other members of BEBE observed the interaction, their eyes held a hint of intimidation in the presence of your close proximity.

“I don’t deserve praise from you. Your THE Lotus, famous for training some of the best dancers out there,” you chuckled at Bada’s words. “That’s me,” you shrug, used to hearing the words, but it still pleased you to hear it from fellow dancers. “Anything I can possibly help you with?” She questions you with a curious face. “I just wanted to meet a fellow Jam Republic dancer.” You tell her honestly.

"Well, you're really good too," you expressed, the unintended sensuality in your voice evident as your eyes seemed to darken. Bada, taken aback by the unexpected intensity in your gaze, grew nervous. Unaware of the unintentional effect you had, she continued, "U-um, thank you, Lotus-nim." The exchange left a lingering atmosphere, a subtle tension that hovered between the two of you.

“Oh please, just call me unnie, Bada,” the younger dancers squeal behind their leader and you chuckle at their sounds. You decide to introduce yourself to the entire team and they all noticeably fangirl, especially Tatter and Minah who just kept looking at you with starstruck eyes. 

As you engaged in conversation with Bada's crew, she couldn't help but observe your subtle mannerisms. The way you casually combed your hair back with your fingers while explaining things, the unconscious habit of licking your lips when you laughed, and the preference for rolling up your sleeves to your shoulders—all these gestures seemed to have a mesmerizing effect on Bada.

To her, you appeared as an almost unreachable figure in the dance industry, an undeniable stunner. Your every move left Bada weak at the knees. The similarities between you and her, both tall in height, boasting plump lips, sporting long dyed hair, sharing similar styles, and dancing with a captivating allure that seemed aimed at attracting women, only fueled the fascination.

"I wasn’t expecting them to be so pretty," Downy remarked, and Locker Z inquired, "who?" "Bada and Lotus," Locker Z nodded in agreement.

"I should’ve brought two wedding rings, for Lotus and Bada," JJ quipped, eliciting laughter from Minny. The room seemed to buzz with discussions about the two dancers—half fangirling over their ability to attract women, while the more mature half spoke highly of their impressive dance skills. The magnetic presence of both you and Bada had ignited conversations that spanned admiration for both your aesthetics and dancing prowess.

The break concluded, and the girls returned to their seats. Bada, now set for another battle against Redlic, took the stage. As she danced, her focus seemed to gravitate more toward you. Her unwavering gaze remained fixed as she executed a series of movements—grinds, thrusts, and hip sways—all in perfect synchronization with the accompanying sounds. The intensity of her performance seemed to carry an unspoken message, one that resonated with the captivating connection between you and her.

You could only stare at her with hungry eyes, if she wanted to play that game, you would give that to her. That would have to wait though, since the tension with Mina Myoung and Lia Kim had been spiraling in the air for the entire day and they were finally gonna battle it out. 

You’d have to wait just a little longer to play.

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[esamastation]

Shizuroth, part two?

-

In a restroom near the infirmary, Shen Qingqiu takes a long look at himself, at his life, at his situation.

Though he's not Shen Qingqiu anymore, is he? He's someone else now. Someone super tall, super buff, super dangerous, from what he remembers - someone, who like all the great superstars, only has one name.

Sephiroth.

It scarcely makes sense. Actually, it doesn't make any sense! And neither does his mirror reflection! Nor the utterly ridiculous coat he's supposed to be wearing! Even Binghe didn't have his chest this badly exposed! There's so much leather! Leather trousers and boots and coat and no shirt, at all, just his chest all out for the whole world to see!

Shen Qingqiu's adopted xianxia sensibilities are swooning in shock at the indecency. Indecency, he says! He's used to wearing the minimum of six layers, none of them skin tight, and in the meanwhile Sephiroth barely fits into three! Technically two and a half! 

Sephiroth is - he looks like -

He actually looks a lot like Shen Qingqiu? Mostly around the face. Same kinda narrow features, sharp eyes, straight nose… the colouring and the, ahem, proportions are a bit off - Sephiroth is huge, maybe even taller than Binghe! Muscles on muscles, seriously! But, give him a hair dye and some robes, and, well. He might pass for Shen Qingqiu's taller, buffer brother!

Which is kinda, ahem. Shen Yuan sort of also had that resemblance, just in the other direction. Smaller and softer. It probably means something, but he's too busy trying to get his stupid indecent leather coat to close at the front to care.

The coat does not close. It's literally too small. Who would've thought, the big bad badass boss of Final Fantasy VII had his tits out, because his clothes were just too small! What, did he out grow them?

Get a new coat!

Giving up on the clothes, Shen Qingqiu - or should he think of himself as Sephiroth now? - runs his only slightly shaking hands over and down his hair. At least that's sort of familiar. Sephiroth's hair is a bit longer than Shen Qingqiu's, but at least he's used to handling long hair like it. The colour is new, and he can tell it hasn't been oiled like his used to be in PIDW, but instead it has that nostalgic quality of being conditioned. And that's, honestly, something to look forward to! Shampoo and conditioner and, oh, gods, showers! Not only that, but there's electricity, and there are electrical appliances - so, following that logic, Sephiroth might even have a hairdryer!

If only it didn't come with the burden of becoming yet another doomed-to-die villain. At least it's not a scum villain this time - no, just the crazy one with mommy issues who tries to destroy the planet! Fun!

Curiously gathering his hair into a loose version of Shen Qingqiu's usual updo, he turns his face this way and that. Damn, but Sephiroth is pretty. Glowing green eyes and hair like spun silver, and body of Adonis. Yet another beautiful man with a terrible past and worse future. 

Maybe Shen Yuan's soul is cursed in some way. 

Dropping the hair and letting it cascade back down over the pauldrons capping his already ridiculously broad shoulders, he leans over the restroom sink and tries to remember what even happened in FFVII.

It's been well over two decades since he played it! It or Crisis Core - or whatever it was, the PSP sequel-prequel thing with Zack? Sephiroth had made a bunch of cameos in other games too, and then there was the movie - so who knows which version he's in! Which timeline, which moment in which timeline? Maybe he's in Kingdom Hearts! He could be! For all he knows, he might be in some official novel version, and he'd never read any of those, if they even exist!

Safe to say it's before the main game, though, what with him being alive and, judging by things… in Shinra. Figure they probably wouldn't be doing medical stuff for him if he'd already stabbed the president to death. And that happened years after he died, so, uh… it's probably somewhere in the Crisis Core era. Or any number of the mobile games that took place in between, though he'd never really looked into those. So. Uh…

After having his life revolve around PIDW and cultivation and Luo Binghe, it's weird, trying to remember an ancient PS1 game. Though he'd played it emulated on the computer. Thankfully, he's not in that version, graphics-wise, that would've been painful. And speaking of pain…

If nothing else, he's well out of Luo Binghe's reach now, far better than he would've been in just the Sun and Moon Dew Flower body. He paid back his debts best he could when he self-destructed, and now he's off to a whole different world, genre, even the media is different! No being torn limb from limb here! Just a lot of stab wounds. And, well, maybe some medical torture. And, uh, several short-term resurrections followed by more stabbing to death… while slowly losing his mind… and growing extra limbs… uh.

Still, definitely an upgrade from years upon years as a tortured human stick before being killed by his favourite character! And he doesn't even have a System here! No OOC lock! No B-points or System punishments!

He lights incense in his heart for Airplane-bro, all the while nodding to himself in congratulations for this positive turn of events. Airplane would've felt similarly in his boots, surely. His ridiculous, knee-high, edgelord boots. 

Feeling a little better, he rummages through Sephiroth's pockets and comes away with a treasure trove of props. Keys, key cards, glowing marbles of Magic, which he knows are Materia, but which to his lingering Shen Qingqiu sensibilities look a lot like first grade spirit stones… and best of all…

He brings it out slowly and holds it up reverently. It's the most special, most magical thing he's seen in years! It's so beautiful, he could weep!

Sephiroth, it so happens, has a smartphone.

-

*muffled giggling*

[wordsinhaled]

more domestic vacation 'verse because it's apparently all i can think about now

-

It has been... good, being here. Quieter. Easier. The clamor of billions of visitors to the Dreaming is muffled, in Hob's flat. The things that dream here are calm things. Thriving things. Old and cherished things.

Loved things.

Here, Morpheus too has felt like something that could perhaps be loved.

In the mornings, after Hob has left for work, Morpheus draws himself soundlessly up from the bed and pads on bare feet to the record rack that stands overfull with vinyls in the corner of Hob's living room. He touches each record there carefully, the faint visions of musicians and composers flitting ephemeral beneath his fingertips. He selects his musical accompaniment for the day by intuition alone.

This morning, he finds a little yellow note stuck to Hob's copy of The Cure's Disintegration:

"You'll like this one. Promise. —H"

Morpheus listens to it five times through in its entirety with a cathartic sort of anguish. Afterwards he perches on the couch wrapped up in the blanket Hob has slept beneath each night these two weeks. The cedar and vanilla notes in Hob's soap still linger in the fabric, like traces of an embrace Hob Gadling has never given him.

He has especially enjoyed sitting on the floor by the window in the warmest patch of sun, holding court with Hob's houseplants. A marble queen pothos hangs there, suspended near the ceiling, its cascading vines of happy heart-shaped leaves long enough to trail down around Morpheus' shoulders. A row of succulents and a purplish-red bromeliad in a brightly enameled pot live lined up on the sill.

Morpheus gathers them all in his awareness, greets their leaves gently with the backs of his knuckles, speaks to them the way he speaks to all growing things. They whisper their daydreams to him in return, telling him tales of jungle and desert, and of the loving voice that sings songs to them each time they are watered.

Morpheus wonders what Hob Gadling sings, what he hums under his breath.

I would be sung to thus, he thinks. But would you sing to me, my friend?

He sits for long hours in the companionable silence. Lulled by the rhythm of verdant stories, he relishes the sun-warmth banking in the soft black cotton of his shirt, and feels some unnamed tension deep within himself begin to unravel.

Morpheus had not expected this from his stay with Hob. This comfort. This easiness between them.

How it has sunk into him and become something he could, in some version of the universe, come to require.

So, when on the eve of his fourteenth day Hob says, "I don't want you to go," Morpheus is surprised to find that the wistful note Hob cannot quite keep out of his voice finds a sympathetic echo in his own thoughts.

"I—" Morpheus begins.

It is rare that he does not find the ending of a sentence already laid out for him. Yet what is its proper conclusion? I also do not wish to go away from you is futile. An impossibility. He has a kingdom. A realm. A responsibility.

"You feel it too," Hob says. "Don't you?"

Morpheus does not need to breathe in the waking world. He does not need a heartbeat. These are paltry mortal necessities; mortal vulnerabilities. And yet he knows, suddenly, the kick of the heart against the ribs and the catch of a gasp in the lungs of his recalcitrant body. It pinions him to the moment.

"Hob," he manages to say. For a brief second, he is unmade and remade again by the hope in Hob Gadling's face.

"Dream. My dearest friend. I've been wrong before." Hob's eyes are wide and earnest. His voice is honey-soft and strong. He is wiser than Morpheus can aspire to be. "If I'm wrong about this, tell me, please."

"You were not wrong before," Morpheus says. "And you are not wrong now."

[bridellashiper]

Rebellious, in a beautiful kind of way.

Pairing: Red x Fem Reader! {Elsa's Daughter}

You are Queen Elsa's firstborn and only daughter. You had no intention of leaving the kingdom of Arendelle—it was your home and your peace. However, your mother had other plans, and despite your better judgment, she decided to send you off to Auradon, hoping you would make a few friends.

TW: Spelling errors, minor use of ‘reader’; you have a name. Nonchalant x hotheaded/sassy dynamic.

You stared aimlessly out of the carriage window, sighing every now and then as you admired the beauty of Auradon, even though you were reluctant to attend school there.

You had to admit, the beauty was a sight for sore eyes.

You didn’t understand why you had to attend school in Auradon—you were perfectly fine back in Arendelle. You had friends there, even if just a few. They were still friends.

You’d read about Auradon’s history—King Ben and Queen Mal forging alliances across the borders, Beast uniting all the kingdoms—except Wonderland, of course. You read about the war that broke out when the Queen of Hearts refused to accept the union and how it led to her being labeled a 'tyrant.'

You also heard her daughter was just as bad.

You wondered if you’d get along with her—or any of the other princesses there.

You wondered if they would see you as a monster once they witnessed the powers you inherited—

“Princess Seraphina of Arendelle, we have arrived,” your coachman, Bruce, called out loudly, snapping you out of your thoughts. You drifted your gaze across the crowd of princes and princesses alike.

You felt… out of place here. You had never been in a kingdom with so many people before. With a reluctant hand, you pushed the carriage door open, shutting it with a gentle 'click' as you stepped out, taking a deep breath.

Your gloved hands clutched the edges of your pale silver dress. Like your mother, you too struggled to control your icy magic.

You glanced down at your dress, wondering if it was too much. The dress was a soft, icy blue with touches of silver and white for accents. It had a slight ombré effect, transitioning from a deeper blue at the hem to a lighter, almost white shade near the bodice, reminiscent of a snow-covered landscape at dawn.

The dress was made from a comfortable yet elegant fabric—a soft satin and silk blend—ensuring it was both practical for daily wear and luxurious enough to reflect your royal status. The fabric had a subtle shimmer, catching the light as you moved.

The dress had a graceful A-line silhouette, allowing easy movement while maintaining a regal appearance. It featured a fitted bodice with a slightly flared skirt that reached just above the ankles, much like your mother's.

Smoothing out the creases in your dress, you glanced up to catch sight of a red-haired girl. She was beautiful, in a rebellious sort of way. Her red hair cascaded down her back in long, beautiful waves.

'So this must be Red. She is… pretty,' you murmured under your breath, observing her with keen eyes.

She was… beautiful, in a rebellious kind of way.

And you wanted to know her—about her, her interests, her likes and dislikes, her favorite foods, and her least favorite foods.

It almost baffled you—why were you so eager to get to know someone you didn’t even know? You shook your head at the thought.

“Princess Seraphina, everyone is this way.”

Reluctantly tearing your gaze away from the red-haired beauty who had captured your attention, you followed the guards into Auradon Prep.

You found yourself seated next to Red during the introduction of the new principal.

“Hey, psst,” you heard someone whisper, though you weren’t sure who.

“Hey, I’m talking to you.” At that, you realized the person speaking was Red—the very girl you had been admiring moments ago.

“Yes?” you murmured back, though you kept your gaze trained on the people in front of you.

“I caught you, you'know,” she whispered back, leaving you confused. With a slight frown, you replied:

“You caught me…?” you repeated, dumbfounded, and you could almost feel the red-haired girl roll her eyes. with a smirk.

“Staring. I caught you staring at me before.”

You blinked, momentarily caught off guard by Red’s directness. Heat crept up your neck, and you mentally cursed yourself for being so obvious.

“I wasn’t staring,” you lied, your voice just above a whisper, hoping she wouldn’t press further.

Red let out a soft chuckle, the sound unexpectedly warm and inviting.

“Sure, Princess,” she teased, leaning in slightly as if to make sure you caught every word. “But just so you know, I don’t mind it.”

You weren’t sure how to respond to that, so you kept quiet, focusing on the introduction ceremony instead. But your mind was a whirl of thoughts and questions. What was it about her that intrigued you so much? Why did she seem so different from anyone you’d met before?

As the ceremony dragged on, you found it increasingly difficult to concentrate.

Your thoughts kept drifting back to Red—her confident smirk, the way her eyes seemed to gleam with mischief. She was like a puzzle, one you felt strangely compelled to solve.

When the ceremony finally ended, students began to disperse, heading off to explore the campus or find their rooms.

You hesitated, unsure of where to go or what to do next. But before you could decide, Red appeared by your side, her presence as bold as her hair.

“So, Princess Seraphina,” she began, emphasizing your title with a playful grin. “What’s a royal from Arendelle doing here in Auradon? Shouldn’t you be off somewhere, freezing things and ruling kingdoms?”

Her teasing tone made you smile, and you found yourself relaxing slightly. “My mother thought I needed a change of scenery,” you replied, trying to sound nonchalant. “She wanted me to ‘make friends.’ ”

“Make friends?” Red echoed, raising an eyebrow. “Well, that sounds like something out of a fairy tale. And here I thought we were all here to survive the chaos.”

“Chaos?” you asked, tilting your head in curiosity.

“Oh, you’ll see,” she said, her eyes sparkling with a hint of trouble. “Auradon Prep might look perfect on the outside, but it’s got its fair share of drama. Especially when you’ve got kids from every kingdom packed into one place.”

You couldn’t help but be intrigued by her words. “And you? What’s your story?”

Red shrugged, a casual gesture that didn’t quite match the intensity in her eyes. “I’m just here to see how much fun I can stir up,” she said, though there was something in her tone that made you think there was more to it.

Before you could press her for details, a group of students passed by, chattering excitedly about the upcoming classes and events. Red watched them go, a slight smirk on her lips.

“Come on, Princess,” she said, turning back to you. “Let’s ditch the formalities. You’re new here, right? How about I show you around? You might need someone to watch your back.”

You hesitated for only a moment before nodding. There was something about Red that made you want to follow her, to see what she would show you.

Maybe it was the way she seemed so sure of herself, or maybe it was just the thrill of stepping into the unknown.

“Lead the way,” you murmured with a sigh, trying to match her confident tone.

Red’s grin widened, and she gestured for you to follow. As you walked side by side, the world of Auradon Prep began to unfold before you—grand hallways, elaborate classrooms, and students who all seemed to have their own stories to tell.

And as Red led towards your dormitory, you couldn’t help but replay the encounter in your mind. Red was unlike anyone you’d ever met before—bold, confident, and unapologetically herself.

And despite your initial reluctance, you found yourself wanting to know more about her.

Maybe your mother was right after all. Maybe coming to Auradon was exactly what you needed.

But one thing was certain: Red was going to make your time here very interesting.

[hauntedkidpersona]

Once upon a time// Chapter-6

Pairing- Polybts x reader

Summary-Choosing a husband is not easy, but bring in the seven princes and your in a lot of trouble.

Warnings: Duality of humans, Mistress, Y/N is a badass, Detachment issues, Cold behaviour, Strangers to enemies, Nudity, sexual jokes, talks of orgasm (nothing we don't know)

Overview: Life isn't like fairytale. You knew it the moment you reached a ripe age of nineteen. Which meant, your now a women who is in a hurry to be wed and bring prosperity and fame to your Kingdom. For this, you have readily accepted the self-groom event which requires you to select your husband out of all the potential Kings and Princes alike. But what happens when you select, not one. Not two but seven grooms? Chaos.

Masterlist-

A/n- Taglist is open for now.

Tags- @singukieee @shadowyjellyfishfest

@inlovewithallmusic @lachimolala22019

"Princess, I am not changing my decision. That's final." The King berates you with a stern look.

You nod, not wishing to push your luck. Irene is out and the King refuses to change the punishment. Your trapped, with no way out. It seems peculiar to pester him, it's a losing battle anyways. The King is adamant, and you do not wish to stroke the flames of fury that swirl in the black abyss of his irises.

You sigh, shoulders drooping ever so lightly. "Your Majesty, then kindly change our rooms cause I can't sleep and be alive at the same time."

He looks up at you with an amused look, while you give him a serious look. Your not joking. You don't want to go to bed with a thought that it could be your last.

Chuckling at your choice of words, he speaks. "Since the day Jin's mother was executed, he has blamed me and have always run away from his duties. Not only him, but the other Princes also blame me for the death of their mother."

Shock. That's what you feel, didn't their mothers lived faraway for reasons unknown. Dread fills you, with an involuntary shiver that slithers across your arms like an icy serenade demanding the words to be fake.

Keeping your composure, you speak, holding your tongue from giving away your obvious suspicions. "Please elaborate, Your Majesty."

The King stands up, erupting a screech from chair pushed behind. His pose is regal, screaming power and wisdom from the greyish white hair that cascades down. Escaping the heavy crown that stands poised on his head.

"Their mothers were just vile creatures opting for power, even daring to execute the King so that they can share the power that comes with throne." His words pierce your mind, like a sword stabbing the body of flesh and bones. He turns to you, with a cold look.

"So I killed them all."

You close your eyes, as beads of tension swirls across the lines of your forehead. Frowning, you keep the questions at bay. Each Kingdom has its past, perhaps this one too has a dark one. A Palace being the centre of conspiracy- greed, lust, betrayal. It has all. Living in a lion's den and not expecting an attack is a delusional attempt on your side.

You take a step forward, "And Irene?" Pausing your words, you scrutinize his face for any reaction.

"Jin claims to love Irene cause she was there with him from the beginning but she is just a vile women. She manipulated him with her sweet words, urging him to become King and change the rules so that she can become the Queen. She hid her greed by reminding him of his responsibility. I am not the King of such a big Kingdom for no reason. With great power, comes greater responsibilities. It's not the stranger that you should fear, but the people close to you for they can cause far greater damage."

His words are making sense now. And as soon as you connect the dots, reality grips your heart like a snake slithering for its prey. Pawn, that's what you can deem your worth as of now. Yesterday the King could have carried out an full-fledged investigation, to look into the matter of Irene but no he had rather chosen to give out a punishment. Being eager to get rid of her in haste was a foul move.

This eagerness will cost you more than you bargained for.

"And—" The King stops, taking your full attention. "If Jin is hard to handle, then how will you handle Yoongi and the others."

You huff, subtle in your actions. Yoongi, that Prince is like ice who will freeze you the moment you near him. Who knows, what is he upto? Only time will tell that. Taking your leave, you walk out not before bowing down to the King who dismisses you with a smile, that held ulterior motives. The glint in his eyes tell you that your in for a great ride.

Anika is waiting outside with few guards who accompanied you, "So how did it go?"

Her expression was tight, lips pressed in a thin line.

You don't wait, walking ahead for walls too have ears. Your robes slither, anklets jiggling at each step. "A lot."

You give one word answers, careful of the guards that follow you. Their expression remain stoic, but who knows where their loyalty lies. In Palace, trust is expensive. You do not have any to waste on them.

Your steps come to a halt, as soon as your met with Jin towering your figure in fury. Taking your hand, he smiles sweetly. So fake, that you gagged. "You all can go, I need to talk to her personally."

Not waiting for anyone's reply, he drags you with him. You pretend to be calm, but inside your mad at him for forcing you like this. You hurry to match his footsteps, not wishing to fall and make a fool out of you. Your earrings drop, in chaotic madness as your chest rises and falls, across the weight of the heavy necklace of priceless gems.

He pulls you inside what you deem as his quarters; the door is closed harshly behind you with a loud thud. Looking back, your breath hitches at the close proximity. But Jin is quick to slam you against his chest with brute force.

A gasp, slips past your throat. Cursing the moment it took flight. "Be in your limits, Prince." You glower at him, tone dripping in warning.

At your defiance, he only pulls you close. Breath mingling with yours and here you almost go cross-eyed at how narrow is the gap of your lips which parts, taking huge gulps of air. Wriggling, you wince when he tightens the hold around your waist.

"Now tell me, who gave you the right to punish Irene?" He glares at you, his tone dropping a few octaves.

You roll your eyes, "You should ask this question to His Majesty, not me."

You wriggle relentlessly, but your hands are gripped by his hands. You grit your teeth, as he refuses to budge. "Then why did you attack her, I saw the bleeding Y/N. How dare you stoop so low hah?"

"Oh, then how dare you to fuck that whore in my quarters. It's you who is the problem, not me or anyone. It's you who were trying to push my buttons. Don't you remember how shamelessly you were staring at me, even when you had a lover. You were fucking red on face, and here I thought lovers don't get affected by anyone who isn't their sweetheart. Your a damn cheater, a fucking liar who is hiding in name of love." You fume, unleashing your wrath with your voice that increases in intensity.

How dare he chanel your worth on his lowly scale. A Prince running from responsibility has no right to question you. Stirring trouble, causing rift and hate for Irene was his doing. A Palace has its own laws, and if anyone crosses it. Your bound to punish them. Heck, even the guards were fired for lacking in their duties of guarding the royal library. Then who the fuck is Irene? Irene got his affection, but no title or regard of her worth from the King. In that way, she is just a servant and is to be treated like one. Affection alone doesn't acquire your safety within the palace walls.

Jin backs away, as you glare at him. Refusing to wince at the obvious pain your waist erupts in. Monster, a fucking monster. That's what he is. You hate him.

"So what, I am the Prince. And she wasn't stealing anything for such a harsh punishment. I want her back in Palace, right now." He orders you, as if your some meagre servant.

If he wasn't a Prince, you would have slapped him so hard that he would have a whole factory reset. You pity the King, for getting such a spoilt brat of a son as the future King of the Kingdom.

"Enough of your stupidity. First learn the laws of what powers and limits you have as a Prince. Your not above the King, your fucking below him. What Irene is facing, is because of your poor judgement. Somewhere you must have a hand in filling her mind with delusional security. And that was ripped apart by the King who showed you both their exact place. And now that your trapped, your forcing me to get her back. You fool, the King's decision is above us. I am no one to meddle in your stupid affairs."

To say Jin was mad at your words was an understatement. He knew you were right somewhere but his ego refuses to stroke the thought. He knows he is lacking, heck his father never fails to remind how far behind he is to take the throne. And now that you slap that directly on his face, it's more obvious.

You step forward, eyes blazing. "Have you even fought in war? Do you know what it's like to have lives in your hands. How will you handle this Kingdom with that fragile ego of yours. Unlike me, there will be thousands to point a finger at you. You can shut them but you can't stop them. Why is it that His Majesty only refers me as the future Queen but he never once called you or any brother of yours as future King. Cause you all lack somewhere. To run a Kingdom is not a child's play. Have any of you ever joined the King in the court, have you? You just got distributed with tasks and yet you all fail to prove your worth to His Majesty. Instead of hating me, why don't your pathetic self learn something in court. And if your a coward then give up this title of the Prince that you carry without any responsibility and leave with your tail tucked between your legs."

Your words like shards of glass pierce his body, drawing blood at multiple occasions. His heart is burning with the insults that you threw at him. Calling him a coward was the last straw. "Shut up. Just shut up, I will show you. Just wait and watch how I become a King and banish you from this Kingdom for once and for all."

You smile mockingly, "Don't dream okay, reality is harsh and unfortunately you are a weak Prince."

Throwing him a last look, you move out.

From that day, something changed.

The Seven Princes who hardly ever graced the court with their presence were dragged their by Jin. Days passed on in peace, as Jin got busy in his royal duties. King's advisors and court members were shocked by the drastic change of the elder Prince. He no longer skipped a day of the court.

The current affairs of the Kingdom was handled by him, he even went all the way to investigate and learn from the trusted advisor of his father.

To say the King was happy would be an understatement.

And now you had some peace from the quarrel, though Jin slept in your quarters at night. You two had no interaction whatsoever. By the time your up, he is gone. He had become a lot busy and so your back to enjoying your lonely time.

Taehyung was taking a stroll across the stable. Looking over the royal horses. He smiled as he pats his horse, a special breed. Hard to tame but he grew a liking. Like the dark night, Raven's fur are his pride and as his Master he have given strict instructions for his care.

Just then he hears commotion, and there he is met with a heavenly sight. It's you. His wife that he had little to no connection with coming along with her maids and guards. You haven't seen him yet, and so he is content in observing.

Your complexion is thundering upon the barren land of his heart. As if expecting a heavy downpour. Your decked up in jewels, none being deprived of enhancing your beauty to that of a dazzling moon. He watches as you laugh, climbing on one of the horse with ease.

"Princess, careful." One of your maid chides you.

Deciding to join, he announces his presence with a clap of amusement.

"My lady, it's good to see you here."

To say you were shocked to see him there would be an understatement.

Hiding your frown, you bow at him.

"My Prince, I just came for horse riding." You smile, hoping to cut short the conversation and go on your merry way.

Your grip on the reins tighten, but it's not long before you feel him climbing up behind you. In shock, you move forward. But Taehyung pulls you right against his chest, the added warmth unwelcomed on your part. You bite your lip, scowling at the turn of events. But in front of the maids, you stay silent.

Taehyung enjoys your act of defiance, his fiesty wife is surely mad now. Why should Jin have all the fun? Your his as much as Jin's. Inching closer, he tilts his head. Ever so lightly brushing your neck, he inhales the sweet scent that permeates his being. He feels you shudder, the action not going unattended by him.

He smirks, "Let's go Princess, I will join you."

Whispering sweetly against your ear, he watches you glare at him in burning fury. Chuckling he takes hold of your hands that grip the reins and pulls it.

The cool wind brushes past you, as the horse gallops through the palettes of green. Your stiff, refusing to relax against him. The nature bloomed, with trees casting a shadow that swirled along the rays of the light that create a painting of their own.

Reaching the lake, Taehyung stops near the cool shade of the tree. Getting down, he smiles at you while lending a hand.

Ignoring him, you get down. "I wonder why the Prince is suddenly interested in what I do?" You take a jab at him, not at all pleased at his act.

"I am always interested in what my wife does."

You roll your eyes. Not believing anything. Blessed with beauty, he was a sight to behold but looks can be deceiving. Wary of his motive, you keep your guard. Just in case. "Drop the act, it's of no use."

Taehyung grins, "So cold. Loosen up, My Queen."

You scowl at his display of endearment, refusing to react. You move away. But Taehyung is quick to chase you and match your steps equally. You ignore him, yet again. It's futile to lead you astray with some sweet words. Your heart is guarded, forget about moving. It won't even faze at the sight of a naked man like Jin. Your a person who connects emotionally and your emotions are forever closed for the Princes who are nothing but brats.

"Just yesterday you all hated me. And today suddenly, your showing fake affection. Why, didn't you get any other way to defeat me?" Your words are sharp and calculated, not an ounce of trust exuding at the Prince that walks across you.

Taehyung smiles, "It's nothing like that, why don't you give me a chance Princess? Join me for a tea"

"You?"

"Yes, the one and only Prince Taehyung."

"Princess, can you please send this to Prince Yoongi's quarters? I have to urgently go and give an important message to the King." The way the advisor speaks, you know you can't refuse.

You were ready to refuse, but then you get reminded of how you have to fucking bond. And so you smile, nodding at him. "As long as you don't have an ulterior motive. I am in."

You were just heading for your duties, when your stopped by the Royal Advisor. It seems, the message is not to be known by anyone and interfering in it would be futile. But you have to meet him out of all the Princes. That rude ass guy. Still, not having an option you take the pile of books.

Bowing to you, he hurries to the opposite direction.

"Uh, that was quick." Anika laughs,

You shake your head, feet moving towards the Yoongi's quarters. Your steps are confident, even as the guards open the door, letting you inside the haven of Prince. Sensing your presence, his trusted assistant quickly greets you.

But your eyes are looking at a very sleepy man who is seated on the chair, doing anything but work. "Does his lover entertain him so much that now he has to sleep during work hours?"

Your words are soft spoken, not wishing to rile up the sleeping cat who might just claw you if you dig too deep. Keeping the books on the table, you look up at the assistant who is busy looking at you without a blink.

You raise an eyebrow.

"Look down, do you want to die?" It's Anika who scolds him, breaking his dazed look.

He shakes his head, "I just was surprised, how someone can be this beautiful. Pardon my rudeness, Princess. I have heard a lot about you and now seeing you in front, I was shocked. Sorry,"

You nod, dismissing him. It's not your first time hearing it and neither it will be your last. You look around, taking a look at the cozy workplace. Decked up in gold and red, it screamed royalty and luxury. A seperate shelf was kept at the corner, wherein the books must contain the talks of war, politics, geography and so on.

Moving away, you look through the window. Getting a perfect view of the Garden from afar. Not that your jealous of your quarters, it's just that there would be no harm if the King gave you an extra quarter which had a perfect view. Anyways that cat won't mind, or will he?

Turning around, you almost shriek at the man who looks unbothered. Your heart thuds against your ribcage, even as you sense the absence of that assistant and Anika who were nowhere to be seen. "Are you done inspecting, Princess?"

You bite your lip, scowling to hide the obvious blush of embarassment rushing to your cheeks. "And are you done working hubby?" You mock back. Purposely adding the last word, just to irk him.

Yoongi gives you a cold look. "The door is there," he points at the exit.

As if you don't know.

"Where, I can't see it?" You look around, searching for that legendary exit.

"Don't joke with me okay, I have work to do. Get out."

His words are final. Not that your dying to be here. You tch at him, why so cold? But then, questioning others for their coldness isn't justified if your rude too. You shrug, not that it matters anyways.

"Now now Yoongi, is this the way you talk to the Princess."

[hanakogames]

Spring Sale 2024

It's that time again! Everything that's currently on sale, as best as I can figure it:

Over on itch.io where titles are available DRM-free (plus Steam keys if the title is on Steam) sales are running until March 21st

The "Cute" sim/RPGs are each 50% off, or 60% off if you buy all three.

Cute Knight (not on Steam)

Cute Knight Kingdom (not on Steam)

Cute Bite 

The other three yuri-only games (since Cute Bite is too but it has its own group) are 50% off, or 66% off if you buy all three 

A Little Lily Princess 

Black Closet 

Night Cascades 

The Magical Diary games are each 60% off with a tiny bonus if you get them together.

Magical Diary: Horse Hall 

Magical Diary: Wolf Hall 

And what's leftover is 65% off with a tiny bonus if you get them all 

Long Live The Queen 

Science Girls 

Date Warp 

England Exchange 

The Confines of the Crown 

Sword Daughter 

On the Steam side of things, sales are also running until March 21st. 

Most games are 65% off. If you buy absolutely everything ever in one giant lump, it's 73% off (but most people don't do that).

The Magical Diary games are 65% off but up to 72% if you get both together 

Magical Diary: Horse Hall 

Magical Diary: Wolf Hall 

The yuri games are 66% off if you get all four together, otherwise:

A Little Lily Princess (65% off)

Black Closet (65% off)

Cute Bite (50% off)

Night Cascades (40% off)

And the rest of the library:

Long Live The Queen (65% off)

England Exchange (65% off)

The Confines of the Crown (65% off)

Sword Daughter (75% off)

Science Girls (75% off)

Date Warp (85% off)

As always, the best bargain for you may depend on your currency and what games you already own, so shop around for the best deal. Happy Spring!

[xmaudx]

The Phoenix Burns

Chapter 4: bluebell

Y/N barely registered where she was going as she hurried through the castle’s halls, her feet carrying her almost on instinct. She didn’t stop until she found herself in the castle gardens, the cool morning air doing little to calm her racing heart. She collapsed onto a stone bench, burying her face in her hands as she tried to catch her breath.

What had she done? She had just struck the king of the Hellfire Kingdom, a man known for his ruthless nature and unyielding power. The consequences could be disastrous, not just for her, but for her entire tribe. She had acted on impulse, and now she was terrified of what might happen next.

As she sat there, trying to make sense of her swirling emotions, she heard the sound of footsteps approaching. She looked up, expecting to see one of the guards, or perhaps even Katsuki, but instead, she was met with a surprising sight.

A woman stood before her, her long, white hair cascading down her back like a waterfall. Her eyes were a soft, pale blue, almost otherworldly in their serenity. She wore a simple, elegant gown that contrasted with the sharp edges of the castle’s stone walls. Y/N recognized her immediately, though she had never met her in person before.

It was Queen Rei Todoroki.

Y/N quickly stood, bowing her head in respect. “Your Majesty,” she said, her voice still shaky. “I—I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to invade—”

Queen Rei held up a hand, her expression gentle but firm. “Please, there’s no need for apologies. I know what happened, and I understand why you reacted the way you did.”

Y/N blinked in surprise, lifting her head to meet the queen’s gaze. “You do?”

Queen Rei smiled, a small, knowing smile that seemed to hold a world of wisdom. “Enji can be... difficult. He has a way of getting under people’s skin, of provoking them. It’s a trait that has served him well as a ruler, but it also makes him enemies.”

Y/N felt a wave of relief wash over her, but it was quickly followed by a pang of guilt. “I shouldn’t have lost my temper. I let my emotions get the better of me, and now... now I’ve jeopardized everything.”

The queen’s smile softened, and she moved to sit beside Y/N on the bench. “Emotions are not a weakness, Y/N. They are a part of who we are, and sometimes, they must be expressed. You’ve been through a great deal, more than most could bear, and yet you’ve remained strong. That is not something to be ashamed of.”

Y/N looked at Queen Rei, her eyes searching for any hint of judgment or disapproval, but she found none. Instead, she found only understanding, a kind of quiet strength that put her at ease.

“Thank you, Your Majesty,” Y/N said, her voice barely above a whisper. “But I’m still worried. What if King Enji—”

“He won’t,” Queen Rei interrupted gently, her tone firm. “Enji is many things, but he’s not a fool. He knows the importance of the Dragonblood Tribe, even if he pretends otherwise. And as for your outburst... well, let’s just say it was long overdue.”

Y/N stared at the queen in shock. “You think so?”

Queen Rei chuckled softly, a sound that was both light and comforting. “Oh, yes. My husband has a way of crossing people's boundaries, and I daresay he deserved that slap more than you realize. He’s been too caught up in his own power, forgetting that it’s the people around him who help him maintain it. Sometimes, a reminder is necessary.”

Y/N couldn’t help but smile, a small, tentative smile that slowly grew as she realized that she wasn’t alone in her frustration. “I never expected to hear that from you, Your Majesty.”

Queen Rei’s smile widened, her eyes twinkling with a hint of mischief. “There’s much you don’t know about me, Y/N. I may be the queen, but that doesn’t mean I’ve always agreed with the way things are done. Sometimes, the most powerful changes start with a small act of defiance.”

Y/N let out a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding, the tension in her shoulders easing slightly. “I just... I don’t want to cause more trouble for my tribe. We’ve already been through so much.”

Queen Rei reached out, placing a gentle hand on Y/N’s shoulder. “You won’t. In fact, I believe you’ve done something very important today. You’ve shown strength, not just for yourself, but for your people. And that is something that cannot be ignored.”

Y/N nodded, her heart feeling lighter than it had in a long time. “Thank you, Your Majesty. Your words mean a lot to me.”

The queen stood, her gaze softening as she looked out over the garden. Walking through the path she'd stand in front of a patch of bluebell flowers before gently stroking the closest plant.

"Bluebell flowers. They are delicate but very pretty. I don't remember why I love them so much. I think...they remind me of someone. Someone I loved. Someone I knew. You reminded me of that someone y/n."

y/n looked up at the queen smiling kindly. "I am glad to hear that Your Grace."

There was a moment of silence shared between the two, a comforting acknowledgment of each other before The Queen turned away to look back towards the castle doors.

I believe you should rejoin the meeting. Enji may be furious, but he will respect you for standing up to him. And if he doesn’t, well… you’ll have more allies than you think.”

Y/N hesitated for a moment, unsure of whether to bid the frail women only to return to the hectic endeavours of the meeting . But Queen Rei’s confidence was infectious, and she found herself standing as well, determination settling in her chest.

“I will,” she said, her voice stronger now. “I’ll go back.”

Queen Rei nodded, her expression approving. “Good. And remember, Y/N, you are not alone in this." The womans hand gently stroked the young girls cheek, the affectionate action taking y/n by surprise. "There are those who will stand with you, even when the odds seem insurmountable.”

Y/N smiled gratefully, her heart swelling with newfound resolve. “Thank you, Your Majesty. I won’t forget your kindness.”

As Y/N turned to leave, Queen Rei’s voice called out softly, “And Y/N... don’t be afraid to show your true strength. It’s what will make you a great leader one day.”

With those words ringing in her ears, Y/N made her way back towards the meeting room, her steps more confident than before. She knew there would be consequences for her actions, but she also knew that she couldn’t back down now. Not when so much was at stake.

'she looks just like her mother' Queen Rei thought to herself before smiling at the thought.

-

Back in the meeting room, the atmosphere was thick with tension. Katsuki Bakugou stood rigidly, his eyes locked on the door Y/N had stormed out of. The room was filled with an uncomfortable silence, with everyone waiting for the king’s reaction. King Enji’s cheek was still red from the slap, but his expression had settled into one of cold calculation rather than the expected rage.

Izuku Midoriya glanced at Katsuki, concern etched across his face. “Kacchan, what are we going to do? Y/N didn’t mean to—”

“Shut up, Deku,” Katsuki snapped, though there was no real venom in his voice. His mind was racing, trying to figure out the best way to diffuse the situation. Y/N’s outburst had been bold—reckless, even—but part of him couldn’t help but admire her for it. She had stood up to a king, something that took more guts than most could muster.

Ochako, sitting beside Katsuki, seemed equally unsettled, almost. Her usually warm demeanor was strained as she cast nervous glances at King Enji, as if trying to gauge how he would respond, her brows furrowed as she looked back to Bakugou. She reached out to touch Katsuki’s arm in what was meant to be a comforting gesture, but he pulled away, too focused on the problem at hand to notice.

Prince Shoto Todoroki, who had been silent during the exchange, finally spoke up. “Father,” he said calmly, his mismatched eyes meeting King Enji’s, “perhaps it would be wise to consider settling your quarrel with y/n. The Dragonblood Tribe is a valuable ally, and we should respect their contributions rather than dismiss them.”

King Enji’s gaze flicked to his son, the coldness in his eyes momentarily softening. He respected Shoto’s judgment, and there was a truth to his words that even the king couldn’t ignore. Still, his pride demanded a response. “She struck me, Shoto. Do you understand the implications of that? A show of disrespect to the throne is not something I can simply overlook.”

Kirishima, who had been watching the exchange with an anxious frown, spoke up as well. “With all due respect, Your Majesty, Y/N acted out of a sense of duty to her people. She wasn’t just defending herself—she was defending her entire tribe. That kind of loyalty is something we should value.”

King Enji’s eyes narrowed, but before he could respond, the doors to the meeting room swung open once again. All eyes turned as Y/N reentered the room, her head held high and her expression resolute. She walked back to her seat, every step measured, as if each one was a declaration of her unwavering determination.

There was a collective intake of breath as she sat down, facing King Enji without a trace of fear. The silence that followed was thick with anticipation, everyone waiting to see what would happen next.

King Enji regarded Y/N with a cool, appraising gaze. His anger had not abated, but there was a new element in his expression—something almost like respect, though it was buried deep beneath layers of pride and authority.

“Y/N,” the king said slowly, his voice carrying an edge that demanded attention. “You’ve shown a boldness today that many would consider foolish. But I cannot deny that our relations with the Dragonblood tribe is much more significant then your reckless actions.”

Y/N met his gaze evenly, her heart pounding

“Yes your majesty. I agree such reckless actions that are dire to maintaining the honour of my tribe as well as the reputation of our dragonblood tribe should not hinder our relations with your kingdom and this diplomatic meeting"

Her voice was steady, the sarcasm laced in her response did not go unnoticed around the table.

King Enji’s eyes narrowed slightly, but he nodded, as if reaching a decision. “Very well. Your position in this kingdom will not be diminished. But remember this, Y/N. I expect you to control your temper in the future, especially in the presence of the throne.”

Y/N inclined her head in acknowledgment. “I understand, Your Majesty.”

With that, the tension in the room seemed to ease slightly, though the atmosphere remained charged. Katsuki let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, relieved that the situation hadn’t escalated further. He shot a quick glance at Y/N, his eyes filled with a mixture of pride and concern, though he said nothing.

King Enji straightened, his authoritative demeanor fully restored. “Now, let’s return to the matter at hand—the suspicious activities in Alkora Forest. We cannot afford to ignore the possibility that All for One is involved. If there is even a chance that the devil king is behind this, we must act swiftly.”

Izuku nodded, leaning forward with renewed focus. “I’ve gathered some reports from the local scouts. They’ve seen strange creatures moving through the forest—beasts that shouldn’t exist in this realm. It’s as if someone is experimenting with dark magic, creating abominations.”

“Then we need to investigate,” Katsuki said, his voice firm. “We can’t sit here and wait for those bastards to come to us. We need to take the fight to them.”

King Enji considered this, his gaze shifting to the assembled group. “Very well. I will send a team to Alkora Forest to investigate these disturbances. Bakugou, Midoriya, Todoroki, Kirishima—you will lead the expedition. Y/N, given your recent display of... passion, I expect you to accompany them as well. Your insight could prove valuable.”

Y/N nodded, a sense of purpose settling over her. This was her chance to prove herself, to show that her tribe was still a force to be reckoned with.

As the meeting concluded, everyone began to rise from their seats, discussing the preparations for the journey. Y/N lingered for a moment, her thoughts still reeling from everything that had happened. She glanced at Katsuki, who was speaking with Kirishima and Izuku, his expression serious.

Before she could approach him, a movement out of the corner of her eye caught her attention. She turned her head, scanning the armoured soldiers within the room, but saw nothing. Yet, she couldn’t shake the feeling that someone—or something—was watching her.

Her heart skipped a beat as a flash of pale skin and yellow eyes appeared in the corner of her vision, just for a split second. But when she turned fully, there was nothing there—only a soldier moving towards the doors.

Y/N’s pulse quickened. Was it her imagination, or had she just seen that woman before. The memory of the eerie figure from the night before—the woman with the unsettling smile—flashed in her mind. To be lurking within the kingdom so easily it must be a worker within the castle. Looking over to the soldier she watched it open the door swiftly. She hadn’t told anyone about that encounter, but now, she wondered if she should have. Now she wondered if not everyone here could be trusted. Walking over to the soldier she would clench her fists.

But before she could call for the guard, Katsuki’s voice pulled her back to the present. “Oi, Y/N,” he called, waving her over. “We’ve got a lot to plan. You in?”

Y/N forced herself to push the strange encounter to the back of her mind, nodding as she walked over to join the group. “I’m in.”

As they began discussing the logistics of their journey to Alkora Forest, Y/N couldn’t help but feel a growing sense of unease. Something was wrong—something much bigger than they realized. And whatever it was, she knew it would reveal itself soon enough.

[lore-of-the-mushroom-kingdom]

Isle Delfino Yoshis Are Fake And What Happened To The Original Yoshies

So I've noticed recently many people don't understand what the nature of the Yoshies from Super Mario Sunshine is. Many people think they some kind of species of Yoshi, and some people have even gone as far as to claim the migrated from Dinosaur Land and that Dinosaur Land is close to Isle Delfino. So I'm going to explain what is up with the Yoshies of Isle Delfino.

So if you notice these Yoshies are weird, if you drop them in water they becoming blobby and return back to their egg. This is a detail even mentioned in the manual, and makes them different from the Yoshies we usually see. We know Yoshies can stand water and swim as seen in SMB4SMW, YS, M&W, NSMBW, etc. We also can see these Yoshies can hatch as different colors all from a single green egg, only triggered by a fruit. Not a single one is actually green in color and they all spit juice, and they need to eat fruit constantly lest they return to their egg. We know Yoshies hatch from eggs corresponding with their colors with the only exception being the Mini Yoshies which hatch from a multi color egg. Yoshies also don't need fruit to hatch them nor spit juice and need to constantly eat fruit.

So what's up with them? Well if you remember you get the egg from Bowser Junior. In other words these Yoshies are fake, paint creations of the real deal like Petey Piranha's fake. This is why they have these odd behaviors like not being able to survive in water. Bowser Junior also probably based their colors off the ones from the Yoshi Carousel, and the egg of the eggs on it as well. This would explain the oddness in color.

With that being said there used to be Yoshies living on Isle Delfino at one point. When talking to a Noki they say "They used to roam this island freely, but now, they've gone..." This means Yoshies once lived on Isle Delfino once but left for some reason. So what might that reason be? Well after defeating the Snooza Koopas the Big Sunflower says, "Thanks for helping me! Now, maybe the Yoshis will come back, too!" This implies the Snooza Koopas are the reason for the Yoshi's disappearance.

So given the appearance of the Snooza Koopa's shells being similar to that of a Green Yoshi's Egg, could imply they are predator of the Yoshies using a form of aggressive mimicry. This would imply the Yoshies either fled the Island or went extinct due to the Snooza Koopas. This also falls in line with the Cascade Kingdom's claim that it's one of the few places dinosaurs still live.

[girlcraft2003]

Bc I'm making a video about it uh HLVRAI as Wings Of Fire tribes on impulse. I did also give them canon "accurate" names so uh all the info and reasons why they are what they are is under the cut TLDR: Names in order: Gator, Bonereader, Toco, Dodder, Cyclone, Borealis, Fennec, and Goliath

Sorry this is gonna be long but ya girl has THOUGHTS!!!!

Gordon: MudWing named Gator. He strong man and is prob a bigwings. Mudwing fits too well. Scientist at the Black Mesa facility on the border of the Sand Kingdom. Most likely studies the volcano named Resonance

Benrey: NightWing Animus named Bonereader. How else am I supposed to explain the sweet voice and random skeletons without making him a night/rain hybrid. He is just a guard at the Black Mesa facility. No one knows why he sings in rainbow or why random skeletons follow him sometimes

Tommy: Silk/Rain hybrid named Toco. Has a sloth named Sunkist. Taught Bonereader how to read the sweet voice as the colors are similar to RainWing colors. Scientist at Black Mesa but no one really knows what he studies.

Darnold: LeafWing named Dodder. Despite his name being a traditional PoisonWing one, he very much is NOT a PoisonWing. He is a SapWing thank you very much. Works at the small herbology department in Black Mesa. Makes weird drinks with the plants he grows and finds

Coomer: Seawing named Cyclone. Most likely served during the SandWing War of Succession or was in Scarlet's Arena. Really optimistic and totally doesn't know who started the Black Mesa Arena in the basement (it was him)

Bubby: Ice/Firescales Sky hybrid named Borealis. Firescales but can't burn anyone or anything with his scales. Kinda smokey at times due to his condition and breathes smoke with his fire. Fire isn't SUPER strong but still strong for someone who is an Ice/Sky hybrid.

Forzen: SandWing named Fennec. Works in a mercenary group called HECU (Acronym pending) that was appointed by the tribe queens in case something went wrong at the Black Mesa research center and more specifically the dormant volcano Resonance. Very new to the group and is still in training when Resonance erupts.

G-Man: BeetleWing Animus named Goliath. Often mistaken as a HiveWing. Most likely tampered with Resonance to cause it to erupt causing the Cascade (remnants of the explosion causing the dragons of the continent Xen to invade) and preventing most NightWing prophets from predicting the eruption. Not much is known about him or his abilities. Queens most likely want him DEAD.

[kinfriday]

Savagery

It’s hard to know how to feel as I’ve been going through the history of the Viking age peoples.  

On one hand they were profoundly inclusive, traveling the world, inviting other cultures to trade, and even including some of them. People with Persian DNA have been found in graves, along with rings with Allah inscribed upon them.  

What’s more we have written firsthand accounts, some of the only surviving, of Viking funerary rites from traders, and many historians now believe that the ancient Silk Road had its western terminus in Scandanavia. 

While gender roles seemed to have been strictly enforced, women still had the ability to own property, or serve as warriors. There even seems to be evidence, though it would be easy to read too much into it, that the Vikings were comfortable with a type of non-human identity in some.  

In a vacuum all of this sounds amazing. Here we have a warrior culture, that also traded and welcomed others and had at least some degree of respect for women as they ventured across the world.  

Truly, they must be a model of 9th century progressive values and ideals.  

Not so fast...  

While, to a degree welcoming, worldly, and inclusive, our spiritual ancestors were also, at the very same time, terrible people. A bulk of the slave trading in Europe came from the Viking World. Rape, and the murder of children was an acceptable war tactic, and virtually anything could be done to a person one owned, even up to murder, with little to no consequence.  

Human sacrifice to the Gods was common and means of justice were shockingly brutal.  

None of this existed in a vacuum. The Christian kingdoms of this era were at least as bad, and in some ways worse, as were the Romans. You aren’t going to find a human society that is without its horrors, and if you read the legends, even the Gods do reprehensible things.  

As I’ve grown in my knowledge of the legends, I find it interesting that, from my perspective, Ragnarök was a preventable tragedy. Loki’s three monstrous children are bound, but the why is at best hazy, and with Fenrir it’s an outrage.  

The Gods feared the great wolf, but nothing that survives ever indicates he was a threat. Perhaps we should trust the wisdom of Woden here, perhaps he had some foresight, but all we have from the legends is fear, and it is his binding that sets up the great cascade of events that culminate in the death of the Gods themselves.  

I wonder if one of the reasons Loki went after Baldr, was a result of Woden binding Loki’s son unjustly.  

One might be surprised to see such sentiment from me, but the Gods call me to be honest, and the one thing they never claim to be in all the legends is perfect, nor do they claim to be unchangeable.  

As said, they even face death, which is an ultimate form of change, perhaps the most necessary kind.  

I say this because I realize I am not so different from the ancestors. While many might see my actions as progressive, or even virtuous as a vegan, as someone that strives to go fair trade with her clothing, chocolate and bananas etc. Striving isn’t good enough, is it?  

I’m writing this on a computer that was built with conflict minerals, it’s unavoidable. Most likely some ten year old child working his fingers to the bone mined the cobalt for my fancy electronics.  

Migrants denied any pathway to legal or easy immigration into this country are exploited to grow my food. Some of my clothing was most likely made in sweatshops.  

We like to think that we’ve come far as a society, and we have. We now keep our slave labor, our exploitation of others firmly out of sight while we pat ourselves on the back for wearing hemp and shopping at Whole Foods, judging those that came before us with a type of virtuous horror.  

And it’s not fair to them, and it won’t be fair to us when, five or ten generations down, they look at us as brutal savages either.  

I don’t think anything can make many of the actions of our ancestors right, or understandable, but I think to honor them properly we must look at them with honesty and as lessons of what not to do, how not to be, as much as how to be.  

I see this with the Gods too, and the chronicling of their savagery and past mistakes recorded in the mythology. Woden is not the same God that he was a thousand years ago, he has grown and changed. I am deeply convinced of this. What’s more, the culture that interpreted, or misinterpreted his actions is now gone, and we’re left with our, in some ways, more progressive time where we can forge new relationships with these High Ones.  

Nothing is static, nothing will ever be perfect, but in every era, every time, there were at least a handful, some known, some unknown, that bucked the trend, that sought to be better than the world they were raised in and went beyond what they were given.  

There were people who freed their slaves, fought for justice, or never kept another human being because it just felt wrong. There were noble warriors who never harmed a child or violated a woman in a village.  

They may have been few, they may have done their good deeds under a cloak of eternal anonymity, but we have the same choice.  

I can’t stop it all, but I can stop some. I can’t keep myself from benefiting 100% in the privileged position I exist in, but I can use that privilege to shout from the rooftops and intervene for those that have none.  

We are our deeds, in totality. Much is made of being a warrior in many modern heathen paths. Well, I feel my war is within, and against every systemic cruelty that exists in the world.  

It may be my Jörmungandr, it may be the end of me, but as long as I’m working to do better, and be better, than I feel I am honoring the Ancestors and the Gods.  

[eclipseofthemoonsmood]

Together Against The Sisters ( TTS Oneshot/ War AU )

So uh yeah I was cleaning and this song came on and I got the idea for this and decided why not write it and post it here too? I'm also on Wattpad as DisneyReferenceQueen :3 Hope you'll enjoy?

Corona was on the verge of eternal darkness. The dark sunlight shone down on the doomed kingdom. Rays etched in shadow light spread across the land. An eclipse was happening in the sky.

Something awful had happened. 

Cassandra, wielder of the moonstone, and Princess Rapunzel, incarnation of the Sundrop, had both been possessed by a great evil against their wills. A demon, Zhan Tiri, had etched herself into their souls, so that they might become her Generals to lead the armageddon against the world.

The rest of Corona, powerless against these possessed wilelders of Godlike powers, were forced to do the one thing that would save them. But also leave an eternal scar on their kingdom. 

They had to kill the Princess, and her half sister. Cassandra. The two possessed sisters were now under the demons control, waging eternal darkness and fire for the world. Corona was forced to wage war against them.

There was no dawn on this eve of war. No sun rose over the horizon to start this battle that would surely be the end. Captain Eugene Fitzherbert and his Lieutenant, who was also the Royal Engineer of Weaponry, Varian, were leading the charge. There they stood with an army of a thousand. Cascades of dark light shone over their gleaming golden armor as they stood at the edge of the palace courtyard.

 A giant black rock potruded from the great wall of the castle, and there stood the two possessed sisters. 

Rapunzel’s golden hair glowed almost a burning bright color, it almost didn’t seem to contain healing powers, it was almost as if the powers had reverted to harmful products. It was like it burned the same heat as the sun. Her once green eyes were now completely black. Reflecting the demon that had a hold on her soul. 

Cassandra stood next to her, her black rock armor and blue hair bright as her pale skin reflected moonlight itself. 

Captain Eugene Fitzherbert and Lieutenant Engineer Varian stood with stone cold gazes on the two girls. The only thing that betrayed their cold eyes was a single tear cascading down their face.

 It seemed as if everyone’s souls, including the tainted, were harmonizing and lamenting over the coming bloodshed.

Varian stepped forward, his eyes showing hurt and sadness and guilt as he looked Rapunzel and Cassandra. His voice rang out against the silent air. “ Moon, enlighten the night,

the dark side of light,

I gave you devotion, my blood and my life.

I trusted your stars,

they were once my guide,

but now they are falling along with the Sun-”

Eugene stepped forward next, his voice raw with emotion against his lover.

“ Keeper of flame,

breaker of day,

I gave you my sword, my heart and my faith.

But now the sky is burning,

And I scream and wonder

when did your fire become so (cold)?

Cold winds will come like a storm,”

Both of the men’s voices harmonized at the demon possessed sisters.

“ destroying everything, everyone we love.

Time has come to recall,

the days of old,

when both, day and night, were bound by the dawn.”

Eugene: “We are the mountains, the woods, the fields” 

Varian: “We are the rivers, the shore and the sea..” 

Eugene: “What's worth fighting for?!”

Varian: “The reason to win?”

Both: “our land, our home, the air we breath!”

Eugene: “May thunder be our voice!”

Varian: “With lightning in our veins!”

Both: “Our hearts our beating power, roaring our claim!”

Eugene: "What lives beneath the sun,”

Varian: “Is written in the stars!".

Eugene: ”Why can't you understand?”

Both: “One by one, we'll fight

Side by side, we'll fight

Together!~”

[GUITAR SOLO]

And so the battle begun. Fleets of royal guards and drafted soldiers stormed up the steps of the kingdom. Rapunzel lassoed two men with her hair, the golden hair burned brighter with evil light and the men groaned. They seemed to be getting burned by the power. Cassandra flicked her hand and a dozen sharp black rocks burst from the ground. 

And so, the war waged. It was not recorded how many hours the battle went on. For the sun and moon did not set or rise throughout the battle. But it felt like hundreds. Perhaps it was. Perhaps it was a thousand. 

Then it happened.

Suddenly the bloodshed stopped. The bodies were buried. The sun and moon separated. And for the first time in what seemed like years, the sun rose and the moon dawned on the kingdom. 

But at what cost?

Varian and Eugene, both scarred and battle beaten and bruised, emerged from the demolished palace, war torn faces grim and broken, but victorious. 

Both Varian and Eugene: 

“A new day shines, 

the storm has gone,

May rain wash away all the pain from our souls…

Time has come for rebirth,

to rise like the sun,

From now, day and night, will be bound by the dawn.”

******************

Anyway yeah that- that could've been better I wrote this in like a span of 20 minutes I swear I can write better.

[seraphimcollections]

stars aligned | Namor x Wakandan!reader | chapter 7

warnings: nothing to note, not proof read

summary: Still in captivity of Talokan, Thulile has her own questions for the king.

words: 1.3

author notes: I AM SO SORRY this took too long to update. i started spring semester and its A LOT of reading. im going to try to post every thursday night. have mercy! also! please let me know if you wish to be added to the tag list!

| ch1 | ch2 | ch3 | ch4 | ch5 | ch6 |

______________________________________________________________

Namor had long heard her laughter before coming to the surface. He was irritated, to say the least. He had just spent the last hour and a half convincing his generals why he had let the land-dweller live, let alone letting her into their kingdom. 

“In ajawo’, the longer we let the land-dweller stay, the more likely it is for her people to come for her,” Namora's tone was uneasy as she monitored her king’s expression. 

“Not to mention she has no value to ransom. She is a lowly informant, nothing close to a bargaining chip,” Attuma said, obviously infuriated by the Wakandan’s presence. 

Namor felt anger rise in his chest as he glared at the general. He hated that he felt anything while the hammerhead-armored man bad mouthed his prisoner. His. It was a slippery slope. 

“Our people share a similarity when it comes to our subjects,” Namor growled, “they will not let her stay in our custody, and a trade will be struck. This I am sure.” 

“This will jeopardize our kingdom!” Attuma raised his voice, Namora grabbing him by his arm at his audacity. 

Namor’s gaze became dark, never wavering from the behemoth. 

“And that’s where you are wrong, general,” Namor hissed. “This is my kingdom, and I will make the decisions as I see fit.” 

Attuma gulped, taming her anger, temporarily. Namor turned from the two before giving his next orders. 

“Now, I believe you two have a trip to Boston to prepare for. See to it.” 

Namor was not a fool. He knew the dangers of keeping a land-dweller here, the odds leaning to do more harm than good. His dark hair fanned across his face as he stalled his ascent to the surface. The luminescence from the glow worms reflected into the water beautifully, dancing in his dark gaze. Through the rippling of the water, he could see two figures sitting at the water’s edge. He closed his eyes, listening carefully to their laughter. It was her, Thulile, but she wasn’t alone. Accompanied by Nicte, one of the guards assigned to keep an eye on his prisoner. The two seemed to become closer than he anticipated, now giggling like school girls at the water’s edge. 

He could hear Nicte clearly, but Thulile was quieter, almost guttural. It brought a smile to his face, brought on like instinct. With a flutter of his wings, Namor rose through the water before the crown of his head finally broke the surface. The water cascading from his wet locks and over his face, his gaze finding her instantly. 

Immediately the laughter stopped, Nicte bowing and opening her hands to her king while Thulile watched the mutant cautiously. Namor hovered over the surface, nodding to Nicte in acknowledgement with a smirk. 

“Don’t let me end your fun,” Namor said. “You may leave us, Nicte, thank you.” 

Nicte bowed her head before jumping to her feet and shuffling away back through the caves. Thulile didn’t show her fear, but kept herself calm as he came closer, his feet gently landing next to her. With a grunt, Namor sat next to her, letting out a sigh, throwing his head back. She couldn’t stop her eyes from running over his body, how the water bead across his rippled muscles, how his chest would rise and fall. He ran a hand through his hair, slicking it back before joining her dissecting gaze. She didn’t even flinch under his intense gaze, simply rivaling him. 

“Ah, someone doesn’t look like a scared mouse anymore,” Namor smiled, “what’s gotten you so courageous, chan.”

Thulile made a gesture with her hands, symbolling pen and paper. Namor chuckling. 

“We’re going to have to figure this out some time,” he smiled. 

She smiled, looking away as a blush scattered across her cheeks. But she couldn’t hide it from, reveling in her bashfulness. Namor scratched his neck, gathering up the courage to tap her shoulder. He reached for her, his fingers brushing against her arm, causing her flinch. Thulile gulped, almost believing she saw hurt in those deep eyes. She raised her hands to hold herself, rubbing them as if to say “cold.” 

“Ah, right, my temperature is much colder compared to you land-dwellers,” Namor chuckled nervously. “Sorry.” 

Thulile shook her head as if to say “it’s fine” before Namor continued. 

“I want you to know that I wish no harm to come to you,” his gaze softened, “perhaps this is hard to believe, but I only wish to guarantee the freedom and safety of my people. I hope for your return to the surface, I am sure someone is waiting for your safe return.” 

Her eyes widened before letting out a nervous chuckle and shaking her head. It was Namor’s turn to be shocked, leaning a hand on his knee. How could that be? No one would welcome her home into their loving arms, back into their bed- The thought made his heart beat quicker, now knowing that there would be no one to stand in his way. Well, other than the two being from completely different worlds, but this seemed like such a minute detail at this point. 

“What? No one?” He wanted to be sure. 

Thulile frowned, embarrassed before shaking her head “no.” Namor couldn’t hide his glee.

“Now that is criminal. Someone as beautiful as you should have a line of suitors asking for your hand. Those who don’t are fools, and those who will are lucky,” Namor smiled. 

Her eyes widened in surprise. What was he doing? Was he trying to break her defense, catch her off guard? She searched in his eyes for deceit, finding none. Thulile shook her head, pointing at him and mouthing the words “and you?”

Namor scoffed, “my love is for my people and my kingdom. I’m afraid there is not much left for a significant other.” 

Thulile’s gaze softened. The two were more similar than she thought. She had never thought of love while up there, her life too busy tracking down every threat that could come to Wakanda, never stopping to wonder if she would ever think of settling down like sister Nakia. From what she could see, her sister was happy living a more domestic life with her son, though she may have pictured it with T’Challa, fate was cruel to her. And even so, she did not resent the world for what it took from her. Thulile could not imagine feeling the same if the world did the same to her. 

  But her mind kept coming back to one constant, one question. What of this prophecy? Thulile jumped to her feet, rushing to the hut quickly. Namor blinked in shock at her sudden absence, watching her go for a moment before jumping to his feet and following her. A heavy feeling sank in his chest as he tried to catch up to her. Had he offended her with his unfiltered words? It wasn’t his intention of course, but he felt he had seriously overstepped his bounds and wanted desperately to correct his mistake. 

Namor pushed the curtain aside, watching as Thulile marched over to his murals, passing them by until she reached the one that was shrouded by a curtain. Namor’s breath caught in his throat as he stepped forward quickly, his hand reaching out for her.

“Don’t-!”

Thulile ripped the curtain down without hesitation, revealing the beautifully painted mural underneath. She stepped back to admire it totally, taking the delicate paint strokes of blues, golds and purples. She studied it for a moment. There were blue people, Talokanil she could tell, with her hands by their mouths and their gazes cast up to their king adorned in ceremonial headdress. He held his arms up, his gaze too cast up to another figure. This one was ambiguous, with no discernable features. But even so, light rays emitted from her and shone down the king and his people. This was it. The prophecy. 

Thulile let out a shaky breath before turning back to Namor who frowned, his expression almost disappointed. She pointed to the painted figure before mouthing the word: 

“Who.”

______________________________________________________________

TAG LIST:

@lokibadguy

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@tian-monique

[lostinthemines]

I’m not going anywhere

As soon as Princess Peach wakes up she’s immediately aware of how hot she is. She rubs the sleep out of her eyes and removes her blanket from her body gently, feeling an ache in her arms as she does so. She sits up slowly and looks around her room, wincing at the sheer brightness of it. It certainly isn’t hot, if anything she should be cold. It was the middle of winter, she can see the snow cascading down one of her windows slowly, leaving behind white snowflakes. She can already hear the townspeople chatting and children playing in the snow from here. A small smile makes its way onto her face and she manages to get out of bed finally. She’s a little wonky on her feet, but perhaps she’s just tired. She’d had a late night last night, staying out to help Mario and Luigi put some decorations in the town square. The brothers had introduced Christmas to the Mushroom Kingdom last year and it was such a blast. As soon as they told her about it she immediately knew she wanted to celebrate it every year in her kingdom.

She definitely knows more this year than she did last year, thank god. She knows now that she needs to get presents for Mario and Luigi. She had been under the impression that the gifts were only for the children, until Mario had pulled out a present wrapped in pink wrapping paper, her name on it in sparkly letters.

“I didn’t tell you because Christmas isn’t just about the gift giving,“ Mario had explained upon being questioned. “It’s about being around the people you love.” She had gone quiet when he said that.

Peach sighs, moving her messy hair off her face as she heads to her bathroom. Christmas was only three weeks away and she still hasn’t gotten all her Christmas shopping done. She’s finding it very difficult to get free time with her schedule as full as it is lately. It usually dies down around winter time, but it’s been a busy one this year. Between all the meetings and Bowser’s kidnappings, she can never catch a break. Though she will admit the kidnappings do stop around Christmas time; Peach likes to imagine Bowser frantically shopping for all his koopalings, rushing around and wrapping presents. The thought makes her laugh to herself.

Peach manages to make it to her shower, hoping the warm wake up will make her feel better. She turns on the hot water and lets it run down her shoulders, shivering as it hits her skin. Despite the water being pretty hot, she shivers through her entire shower and can barely lift her arms up to wash her hair. After a few minutes of pain she manages to wash the remaining conditioner out, switching off the water and stepping out. Her entire body aches and she’s starting to get the hint now. It seems she’s fallen ill. Is this something she would mention? Absolutely not. She still had a kingdom to rule and no one could step in for her, especially on such short notice. She takes a deep breath and steps out of the shower, grabbing her towel and burying her face in it, sighing dramatically.

Peach gets dressed in her usual pink gown and heads down the stairwell, ignoring the throbbing of her head as she descends it. She meets with Toadsworth in the lobby, greeting him and taking the papers he hands her. She looks over them but the words just make her brain feel fuzzy.

“Your highness, are you alright?” He asks instantly, looking to her with concern. That wasn’t out of the ordinary though, he always looked at her like that. It was his job as her adviser after all to well, advise, but also to check in on her too. “You’re quite pale, princess.” He adds.

“Yes, I’m alright,” She assures, smiling at him briefly. “Just had a late night.” Which is true, she did. He simply nods and they head off to the town hall, preparing for their meeting. It should only go for about an hour, so she should be fine. Even if her legs throb as she makes each step towards the building.

As the hour and a half mark hits, she feels herself start to feel much worse. Her head is still pounding, her throat hurts, and she’s still shivering. She’s trying to keep it under wraps but Toadsworth keeps looking in her direction with those beady eyes, studying her closely. She knows as soon as this meeting is over she’s screwed. She’s been discovered. Peach knows he’s no idiot, he’s known her since she was a baby, practically raised her as his own, she couldn’t hide anything from him even if she tried.

“Princess,” Sure enough, here he comes. “I don’t think you’re well, I advise you to go back to the castle and rest immediately.” He orders. Peach rubs her eyes as they’re starting to get watery from being out in the sun, which doesn’t really help her case.

“It’s just a cold Toadsworth, I can handle it.” Peach assures, even though her head feels so heavy it might just fall off her body. Toadsworth gives her one final glance before sighing to himself; she wasn’t going to go down easily. He knows that by now. She’s as strong willed as he is. He just hopes she won’t come to regret her stubbornness later on.

The next few days she uses the same excuse with him and everyone else. That it’s just a simple cold and she’ll get over it soon. Toadette noticed her watery eyes and red nose, her sneezing and coughing, the whole lot and even offered to finish off all the tasks for the day, but the Princess politely declined. Toadsworth had even threatened to call Mario which Peach had gotten quite annoyed about. The man was finally relaxing after saving her for the millionth time and the last thing she wanted to do was bother him, she’d done that enough. He’d had to travel to the moon to save her for gods sake.

Plus, she didn’t want him to see her like this. Her crush on the man was likely incredibly obvious, and Mario seeing her like this would just utterly embarrass her. It doesn’t help that he had proposed to her and she had told him no, which probably gave him the wrong impression. She had later explained to him that she had said no because he was trying to compete against Bowser and simply left it at that. They had mended their friendship after that. She doesn’t want to ruin what they have now by annoying him and forcing him to take care of her like he always does. It isn’t fair to him.

So she carries on with her royal duties, day and night. She can feel herself getting worse with each passing day, but she pushes through it. She was the princess after all, she had obligations. She couldn’t just curl up in bed, though the thought of her bed and its promised oblivion almost makes her collapse right where she stands. She just has to keep going. She’ll go until she drops if that’s what it comes to.

✧ ✧ ✧

Peach wakes up drenched in sweat. It’s the most disgusting she’s felt in a long time and she immediately sits up in her bed. She is not getting better at all, and she briefly wonders how she’s gotten so sick. No one else is sick in the entire kingdom; she knows she’s just been to the moon to be fair, but she was fine when she got back. That was weeks ago.

It’s now a week and a half until Christmas and she’s just praying she’s better in time for the festivities. She tries to get up out of her bed and her head immediately spins, causing her to hold her temple and sit back down. She waits for the room to stop spinning before attempting to get up again. The same thing occurs and she sighs shakily.

“Oh goodness,” Peach mumbles aloud, shivering and pulling the blankets up. “This can’t be good.” Her mind debates for a few minutes before she decides to just ask Toadette and Toadsworth to take care of royal duties for the day. She finally gives up. She squints in the bright light as she moves her hand over to her nightstand, frantic hand looking for her phone. Her hand knocks down a bunch of items off her nightstand but eventually she does find the phone, bringing it close to her face so she can see what numbers she’s pressing. Every press to the phone makes her digits hurt even more; she feels so weak she can barely hold the phone. She manages to phone Toadsworth’s number and shakily hold the phone to her ear. She wishes the room would stop spinning, it would be so much easier to concentrate.

“Good morning princess, everything alright?” Toadsworth greets, and she can tell by his voice he knows what she’s going to say. Peach shuts her eyes at how loud he sounds of the phone volume and swallows her pride, admitting her weakness.

“I suppose,” Peach answers quietly, placing her free hand on her temple again and rubbing it in small circles. “I do think I need some bedrest today, are you able to handle the royal duties?” She asks. She feels so embarrassed, like she was giving up. Giving in. “I’m sorry if that’s too much.”

“Not a problem dear, I’m just glad you’re finally resting, even if took a whole week,” He assures, and she can practically feel his smile. “Toadette and myself will handle the duties for today, we’ll come and check on you very soon.” He promises. Peach nods, even though he can’t see it through the phone. She appreciates that he didn’t do the whole ‘I told you so, you should’ve listened to me’ shtick.

“Thank you Toadsworth.” Peach says quietly, hanging up the phone and sinking into her bed miserably. She decides that taking a nap will be a good start, so she does that. She lays down comfortably and allows her eyes to shut. Her head feels like a balloon with too much pressure inside, like she could pop at any minute. Thankfully she falls asleep a few minutes later, escaping the pain for a a while. Toadsworth comes in to check on her a few hours after her call and she’s still fast asleep, snoring lightly. He smiles a little to himself, deciding to keep that bit of information to himself as he exits her room.

The next few days pass and Peach doesn’t even call Toadsworth, he just assumes she’s unwell when he doesn’t hear from her by the late morning and carries on with the royal duties. He brings her some food and extra tissues if she needs and makes sure she’s actually getting better. So far there has been no improvement and he feels it’s because she fought it for so long. Then again, he has no idea how human flus work, he’s trying his best.

Toadette is tasked to check in on her today since Toadsworth is preoccupied with a town meeting. Most of the questions were about the princess’ health anyway, her people were starting to worry. Toadsworth is quick to ease their worries however, always the reassurance they need.

Toadette approaches the woman’s room at the top floor and knocks timidly on the door. “Princess?” She calls. When she doesn’t receive an answer she opens the door slowly, peering in. “Oh my,” Toadette lets out, feeling the warm air hit her face instantly. “Oh Princess, aren’t you hot?” She asks, approaching the woman gingerly. The princess in question is under her blankets shivering, surrounded by used tissues.

“I’m freezing.” She assures, and Toadette slowly moves a hand towards her head, jolting it back before she even touches it. She was practically steaming. The young toad had no idea what to do.

“Is there anything you need?” Toadette asks gently, looking to her princess sadly. She’d never seen her so sick before, she was starting to panic internally. She knew this job was tricky but she didn’t expect Peach to be sick with something they seemingly had no cure for.

“Mario..” She mumbles, sniffling into her pillow helplessly. “I need Mario.”

Toadette is on the phone to him as soon as she leaves the room. He tells her he’ll be there as soon as he can. She can feel the relief spread through her at the acceptance of his help.

Mario arrives in just under ten minutes, waiting outside for Toadette to escort him up to the castle with a small bag in hand. He follows her quietly up the many stairs to Peach’s bedroom, where she says her goodbyes before leaving him to it. Mario doesn’t even bother to knock; usually he would, but she knows he’s coming. She had asked for him after all. He enters the room and closes the door behind him, and the lump in the bed doesn’t even move a muscle. He spots her bedroom bin overflowing with tissues, some tossed carelessly on the floor next to it while others were hardly even close. He approaches her figure gently, sitting on the bed next to her.

“Hey Princess.” He gets her attention quietly, making her open her eyes. She was still shivering under all her blankets, sweat dripping off her forehead.

“Mario?..” She croaks unpleasantly, blinking a few times before turning to face him, wincing as she does so. He moves some sweaty hair off her forehead, secretly thankful he’s wearing gloves for a brief moment. He then takes one off and presses it to her head, almost pulling back at how hot she is.

“You’re burning up,” He tells her. “Well.. you might already be fully burned,” He puts his glove back on and removes the big duvet from her body, causing her to curl up. “Do you have a thermometer?” He asks her.

“A what?” Peach responds, and suddenly it becomes clear to Mario why she hadn’t been getting better. The Princess, along with her advisers had no idea how to combat a human flu. It’s why she’s been getting worse rather than better.

“I figured. Luckily I came prepared,” He assures, opening the bag he had brought with him and pulling out a thermometer. He holds it up to her head and she jumps at the beeping sound it makes. “It’s okay, it’s just taking your temperature.” He soothes. It beeps a few times and he looks to it, eyes widening. Peach groans as she leans up, looking to it.

“It’s red.. is that good or bad?” She asks, feeling quite helpless. Mario stands up off the bed and opens her linen closet, searching for a face washer.

“Bad,” He answers, heading into her bathroom. Peach frowns to herself, starting to panic. He didn’t sound upset, but he didn’t sound pleased either. She just hopes he isn’t mad at her. He returns with the face washer which he’s now wet with water, before taking off her other blanket, leaving her with just her single pink sheet. “I’m sorry Princess, you’ll have to take your layers off.” He admits apologetically. Peach looks surprised for a moment before sitting up, waiting for Mario to turn his head before taking off her sweatpants and long sleeve, leaving her in her singlet and panties. She quickly finds some shorts to put on before sliding the sheet back over herself, giving Mario the all clear to turn back around. He places the face washer on her forehead gently, instantly making her shiver from the sheer coldness of the material.

“It’s so cold..” She states the obvious, bringing the sheet up to her neck to try and preserve what little heat she has left. Mario frowns, sitting beside her and moving more of her sweaty bangs from her face.

“I know. It’ll help bring your fever down,” He assures. They sit in silence for a moment, nothing but the sound of Peach’s sniffles filling the room. It must get to him after a minute, because he’s speaking up. “This is all my fault,” Mario confesses.

Peach looks to him utterly confused. “What?” He takes off his hat and twists it in his hands anxiously, looking into her glassy eyes. He pans down to her bright red nose and cheeks, feeling even more guilty.

“I shouldn’t have taken you to Brooklyn,” He frowns. “Especially during the winter.” Now it’s Peach’s turn to frown. He was referring to when he took her and Yoshi to Brooklyn to see a snow day in his world. They had made snowman (snowtoads really), and had a snowball fight. They’d finished that day with Mario showing the two how to make snow angels. Peach absolutely loved it, but she briefly wonders why that day being the cause didn’t occur to her when she had first fallen ill.

“It’s not your fault, Mario,” She assures, her voice sounding pretty stuffed up now that she has spoken a full sentence to him. “I had the best time learning about your traditions.. My immune system just isn’t used to your world yet, I guess.”

Mario smiles a little, and Peach briefly wonders if that can cure her, because it certainly feels like it can. “Well.. I promise the next tradition I tell you about will be warmer…” He thinks for a moment. “Maybe another trip to Isle Delfino is in order.” He offers.

“As long as your clone doesn’t come back and I don’t get taken by a giant turtle again, it sounds like a plan,” Peach laughs, which just makes her cough. Mario still grins at her; he’d called Bowser a turtle in passing and it kinda just stuck.

“Good point. Maybe we’ll go somewhere in my world. You like snorkelling?” He asks genuinely. She scrunches her nose up at the word as if he’s joking. “It’s a real thing!” He assures. “You put these funny looking goggles on that let you see underwater while you swim and this mouthpiece that lets you breathe. You can see all kinds of things, even turtles.” Peach giggles at this.

“I like the sound of that.” She smiles. Mario takes the face washer off her forehead and feels it, sighing in relief.

“Your temperature is dropping,” He tells her happily, placing the face washer back on her head. “I’m gonna go get you some medicine from my place, I should still have some leftover from when Luigi wasn’t well, are you gonna be okay?” He asks.

Peach frowns. She knows she shouldn’t be dramatic, as she knows that medicine will get her feeling better, she just doesn’t want Mario to leave. She just nods, and he assures he’ll be back as soon as possible. She takes a deep breath and closes her eyes, trying to focus on waiting for Mario to come back instead of the pounding in her head.

By the time Mario returns she’s fast asleep, snoring quietly. He’d never heard her snore before and he immediately decides it’s the cutest thing he’s ever heard. He quietly approaches her bed and places the medication and cup of water on her nightstand, ready for her to have when she woke up. He isn’t sure how she’d feel if he stayed in her room while she was sleeping. She may find it creepy, so he ultimately decides to go. Just as he turns to leave her room he feels Peach grab his arm with what little strength she has left, trying to pull him closer.

“Mario..” She mumbles sleepily, eyes hazy and a frown evident on her features. “Stay.” She begs. He smiles sheepishly and takes his shoes off, sitting beside her on the bed. She sniffles, scooting closer to him so her body is pressed against his.

“You should take your medicine before you sleep,” Mario reminds her quietly. Peach grumbles in response and Mario grabs the tablets off her bedside table, handing them to her along with the cup of water. She cautiously takes the two tablets and swallows them with the water, handing the cup to Mario once she’s finished so he can put it back on her nightstand. “That should kick in soon.”

“Thank you..” Peach mumbles out her gratitude, seemingly exhausted.

“Always, Princess.” Mario answers easily, because it is. It’s an easy thought. If his Princess needs him, he’ll be there. If she needs him to clean her dirty tissues off the floor and teach her about the human flu, he will. If she wants him to take her snorkelling on the Sunshine Coast, he will. He’ll do anything she asks him to do, and he’ll do anything for her even if she doesn’t ask. She had opened her home to him and his brother, her kingdom. She had given the brothers a place they could call home, and he’d never be able to repay that kindness. He could certainly try though.

“Will you lay with me?” She asks shyly and Mario gives in easily, laying down beside her and removing the face washer from her forehead. It isn’t a pleasant thing to sleep with. Peach moves closer to him once again, leaning her head on his chest cautiously. She isn’t sure if she’s crossing a boundary here, she’s unsure where they stand after the moon incident. She feels one of his hands start running through her hair and she closes her eyes, getting comfortable. “Don’t go.” She lets out, wrapping an arm around his torso as if to keep him in place. Little does she know he has no intentions of moving.

“Don’t worry Princess,” He assures, pressing a gentle kiss to her head and wrapping an arm around her shivering figure. “I’m not going anywhere.”

[separatist-apologist]

The Great War

I vowed I would always be yours

Summary: Feyre Archeron's kingdom has been warring with King Rhysand for longer than she can recall. When, on an unlucky stroke, he stumbles upon her and her sisters locked in a tower, Feyre will do whatever it takes to keep him from finding them.

Even marrying him.

Happy @unofficialfeysandmonth2022 (but really LB appreciation month!) My only multi-chaptered offering.

Read more on AO3

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3

If you don't like blood or torture, skip Rhys's POV

Feyre, like most women in the north, had given a lot of thought to her eventual wedding. Her whole life revolved around an eventual husband, and though she’d come to resent it, she’d also spent years of her life thinking about the day, the man, and the aftermath. She’d always assumed she’d end up with some seventh son, a minor noble hardly worth anything at all. Shipped off to the countryside where, if she was lucky, she was left to her own devices. 

Never, in her wildest dreams, would she have thought she’d be marrying a king. Kings were for Nesta, princes for Elain. Yet there she was, standing atop a platform in an icy blue gown waiting for the moment when she was called. Married, without a friend to witness her. No sisters. Just her, smoothing the immaculate, beaded fabric snug against her abdomen nervously. It had been a month since she’d been forcibly taken and Feyre was always surprised by what a month could do, in terms of her appearance. She almost believed Rhys when he called her pretty now, given the color in her cheeks and the way her body had begun to fill out again. Her hair had been set into pretty waves, left to cascade down one shoulder with the rest pinned with a pretty, pearl clip against her temple. 

The dress, she begrudgingly admitted, was beautiful too. As icy as the overhead sky, with glittering gems that somehow managed to capture the sparkle of starlight. Whatever magic was infused in the off-shoulder, long-sleeved fabric gave the illusion of curves through her waist before flaring out around her feet. 

She felt pretty.

Beautiful, even. 

Resentment bloomed in her gut, warring with the guilt she felt over her own behavior. He was a monster and she’d put his penis in her mouth. She was going to marry him. She wasn’t even trying to fight anymore. Feyre had sat perfectly still while her eyes were lined and her mouth painted, all to give the illusion of wide-eyed innocence he would later wreck with his lips and tongue and teeth. 

Feyre had even let them put on the lacy underthings before she stood on that little platform in her room and waited to be called down where he’d be waiting for her. Feyre took one last look towards the window and wondered if she wasn’t betraying her sisters by doing this. Were they fighting, wherever they were? Feyre was sure Nesta was…though she was equally sure that Nesta’s fight would always lay with their father, and if she were the one missing, Nesta might consider her collateral damage if it meant reaching her end goal.

And Elain…Elain would put up no resistance at all. She’d be charming the southern court, pulling them all under her spell though to what purpose, Feyre couldn't say. And perhaps it was her desire to wallow in her own self-pity that convinced her of her sister's abandonment. That they would not do the same for her—unasked, without question—but Feyre couldn’t stop herself from feeling very sorry for herself. 

She could only admit it to herself, right then. But Feyre didn’t want him. Handsome or not. Kind or not, interested in pleasing her or not, she didn’t want to marry him. Even if she figured out how to reunite all of them or put Nesta on the throne, this would be Feyre’s home until she died. He wouldn’t let her leave.

She knew that like she knew her own name. 

“Princess,” a servant murmured from the door. Feyre felt the blood leave her face. Her spine was made of static and utterly cold as she stepped from the platform to the floor. She didn’t spare herself a second look, certain she did not want to see what was looking back. Herself, pressed against her eyes like frosted hands against a window pane.

Begging for help.

Every step of her heeled shoe against the marble rang like a death knell. Feyre’s heart hammered, legs trembling so badly that more than once she paused under the guise of fixing her dress in an effort to keep herself from falling to pieces. If the servants leading her knew or felt any sympathy, they didn’t say. 

Feyre stopped once last time outside the arching silver doors of Rhys’s throne room. She could do this. She was brave, she had agreed in exchange for her sister's continued safety. For the promise that when they were found, they would be brought to her instead. They would slip from their father’s sticky fingers. No temples, no terrible marriages.

Only hers.

Feyre willed herself not to let anyone see how scared she was before she walked in. Straight-backed, every inch the princess she did not feel. His court stood on either side, a sea of faces she didn’t recognize. Blurred in contrast with the man standing just at the foot of his throne. Feyre’s fear waned at the look blazing in his violet-blue eyes. In his hands, he held a silver crown made of stars so similar to the one set neatly atop his immaculate hair. 

It was enough, his little concession. This show of what she wanted to believe was equality, though was more likely another of his little games for his court. She halted just before him, drinking in the rich, masculine scent rolling off his powerful body. Rhys was in black, just like he always was. He looked in good, trimmed in silver…a matching band already resting against his ring finger. She saw, as he placed that crown against her temples, a more delicate ring with the softest blue stone framed with diamonds that glittered like starlight. 

“Darling,” he murmured, adjusting the band against her hair gently, so as not to disturb any of the carefully pinned waves. “You look…”

Feyre wetted her lips with her tongue. “Thank you.”

He clenched his jaw, satisfied with her appearance. Feyre expected his general to marry them–that's how it was done at home. A priestess, instead, had come to the front with a little white book tucked against the blue of her robes. Rhys inclined in his head as a show of respect and Feyre, unsure of the customs, did the same.

Pretty words for a marriage she felt was being conducted at knifepoint. Her thoughts drifted in and out, catching promises to honor and cherish. She very much doubted he would be capable of such a thing. Her father never had been. Obsessed with work to the point he’d let her mother waste away and die of sickness. Was that to be her fate, too? When the veneer of newness rubbed off, when he tired of having her in his bed, would Rhys leave her to succumb to illness? Ignore his children, always working? 

He put that ring on her finger. A shackle, she decided. A beautiful, unmovable shackle. He certainly seemed sincere—she didn’t trust him. She repeated the words automatically, with none of the emotion his own had, before their hands were tied in a dark black ribbon and Rhys was allowed to lower his mouth for a kiss, all but sealing the union.

The priestess, with a glimmering tear in her teal eyes, declared the union blessed by the gods. Feyre thought the gods had a terrible sense of humor if that was the case. Rhys brought her fingers to his lips, kissing again and again as he led her out. She assumed he’d take her straight to the bedroom. It seemed like the sort of thing he might prioritize. Why bother wasting time when she could be pregnant by the end of the month, after all? 

“You look hungry,” Rhys murmured the moment they were in the hall. “And tired.”

No innuendo. He wasn’t offering her himself as a meal, but his concern. Did he truly not understand what was bothering her?  Feyre opened her mouth, intending to remind him that she utterly hated him, and hated him even more for making her go through with this when he’d already gotten her in his bed…when the wary look in his eyes halted her.

She exhaled a breath. “I am hungry,” she admitted instead. She’d fight him later that night, and in the morning, and every day for the rest of their shared lives. She would not be her mother.

He would not win.

“There’s a banquet,” he said, dropping her hand to guide her towards a dining hall she’d never once stepped foot in. They always ate somewhere private, just the two of them. “We’ll stay until you hate it.”

“Is that what you do?” she asked just a shade too snidely. He glanced down at her.

“Yes.”

Oh. 

They were sequestered at their own table at the very end of the large hall, raised up so they were looking down on everyone else. Rhys pulled out her chair, sitting only when she’d settled herself on the purple cushion. Wine was poured before anyone ever stepped into the room and Feyre swallowed it gratefully, desperate for any distraction. Rhys watched, goblet hanging in his bored fingers, while the rest of his court filed in.

“No Azriel?” she asked, her body warming as the sweet, tart liquid began to spread through her veins. Not eating had been a mistake, though also not entirely her choice. She’d been offered watery fruit while everyone stared, irritated they couldn't start until she was done.

But now she was married, and she’d never wear this gown again. She could drip soup all over it if she liked. 

Rhys brought his goblet to his lips without taking a drink. The corners of his eyes crinkled at whatever he saw. She wasn’t looking at the flood of people at all. Feyre took another long drink, wishing she had water, too. The wine was doing little to satisfy her. Whatever it was made of, she thought it was inferior to what they had at home. A strange bitterness had coated her throat, forcing her to clear it in order to take an unobstructed breath. 

“I thought he’d be back, too. I’m starting to think he’s enjoying himself,” Rhys grumbled. 

Feyre turned to look at him, her body practically made of air. She needed to eat something. “With my sister?”

“And my general. I’m sure they’re having a grand old time,” he continued, beckoning for a servant carrying a heavy, silver platter of food. “Feed my wife, please.”

Meat, dressed in gravy with vegetables and anything else she might imagine, was put on her plate. Feyre’s hands shook, cold like before, as she forked that first bite. Rhys was still rubbing his jaw, still narrow-eyed and lost in thought. 

“Does this mean Nesta is okay?” she asked, hiding her mouthful of food behind the back of her hand. 

“One must assume so.”

“And Elain?” she pressed, forcing more food into her stomach. She was suddenly too full, despite only one bite. That was just nerves, she assured herself. If she didn’t push through, she’d be a writhing mess by the time he wanted to drag her off to bed. Too weak to offer him any sass, let alone press her fingers against his windpipe.

Rhys’s expression settled. “Almost certainly hiding among Helion’s court. He’s been really fucking cagey. Wants to know what happened with you, so we’re talking in circles.”

“You didn’t tell him you married me?” Feyre asked, struggling to chew what was in her mouth. Rhys didn’t notice or didn’t care.

“So he could run and tell your father—”

“You didn’t tell my father?”

“Ask forgiveness, Feyre. Not permission.”

It was on the tip of her tongue to ask him something else. Feyre opened her mouth, having just swallowed her second bite. Rhys turned his head, glancing at her as he’d done before. Whatever he saw gave him pause.

“Feyre?” he asked. His voice was strange—echoing around her head like she was listening underwater. Feyre blinked, clearing her throat against the burning scratch from the wine but all she manages to do is vomit all over the floor between them.

Rhys jerked backward, nearly toppling from his chair. The hand he’d been resting against the back slipped at the same time Feyre did, her body avoiding her own vomit, but only just. She was shivering, somehow both freezing cold and burning hot. 

“Feyre?” 

Rhysand, again, his voice even stranger still. Far away from her as she began to fall through the very floor. Her spine arched—maybe through her very body. The pain was short-lived, though she thought she might have cried out. Feyre saw violet, twinkling stars.

And nothing else.

RHYSAND:

He’d never been more nervous in his life, watching Feyre Archeron make her way down that aisle. She hid her fear well, but he saw it behind those defiant, blue-gray eyes. For his part, he’d been a breathless, stuttering fool and anyone who’d spent more than a few hours with him could see it. He’d trembled, putting that crown atop her head. His fingers had shook when he’d put the ring on her finger. His voice warbled when he swore he’d love her through the end of the very world itself.

All he had to do, he’d told himself, was put some dinner in her, and get her into bed. Rhys didn’t care if she fucked him or she fought him so long as she came with him. He’d, of course, been hoping for the former given the way the dress conformed around her body. He still had the taste of her cunt in his mouth, could still feel her silken heat tight around his fingers. He wanted to feel her screaming pleasure on his cock so bad he’d been distracted.

Hadn’t thought about the wine sitting before them. In another world, Azriel would have snatched it out of her hands and taken a deep inhale. Fuck, even Rhys should have thought to do that. His marriage was unpopular among a subset of his courtiers, pissed he’d spurned their own daughters and sisters for a foreign-born princess. The enemy's daughter, no less, who couldn’t even smile. Feyre refused to even pretend she was pleased with the arrangement and everyone had noticed.

Maybe they thought they were doing him a favor.

Or maybe they’d noticed the way he looked at her—had found the entire thing treasonous.  

Unforgivable. 

“Lock the fucking doors!” Rhys roared, kneeling over his brand new, convulsing wife. She was going to die right here in his arms, eyes rolled back in her head as blood and spit foamed against her perfect mouth. Rhys couldn’t contain his fear, could practically see it writhing around his body like shadows. The doors in every direction snapped shut, locking every member of his court inside. 

“No one leaves this room until I have answers,” he said to the oppressive, terrible silence. All eyes were on the woman in his arms, their faces just as pale as Feyre’s. Good. He wanted them scared. 

“Get me a fucking healer,” he ordered a terrified servant. He trusted them only as far as he could throw them. Heavy, silver doors opened only for him before locking the rest of the room inside. Their fear would have to be enough for now—Rhys was certain the executors of this little plot would begin to turn on him before he ever came to interrogate. 

He wouldn’t have to. Coming down the hall, casual and pink-cheeked from the cold, was Azriel. Still in his armor, a sword strapped against his back. Rhys might have cried had Feyre not whimpered, trying so hard to roll her head upwards where she might choke on her own vomit. Rhys adjusted her inconsequential body weight as familiar anger roared through him.

No one was kind to this woman and it showed. She looked at everyone like a cornered animal prepared to fight her way out. Too skinny, too scared. He wanted to go back on his promise of peace and burn it all down. Wanted to bring her the heads of every person responsible for those shadows in her eyes.

“What the fuck happened?” Azriel hissed, hazel eyes wide. “Nesta is going to have my fucking balls.”

“Bring me everyone responsible for this,” was all Rhys had time to say. Each wasted second rang loudly in his head, ticking like death’s own personal watch. Feyre was slipping, the color leaching from her face until he could see the faint blue of the veins just beneath her freckled skin. 

The healer, Majda, was a woman Rhys was too acquainted with. She had the distinction of having brought him into the world, and if he’d had it his way, she’d have brought his son, too. It would have been how he introduced her to his new wife, swollen and glowing and happy. Not clinging to life by her very claws, a fighter until there was nothing and no one left to oppose her.

“Lift her head,” Majda, a small woman made even smaller with age, was quickly unpacking a wicker basket she’d brought with her. Rhys made to set Feyre on the bed and instead, put her between his own legs, her head resting against the crook of his neck.

“You can’t escape me that easily,” he threatened, hoping she could hear him. How many times did she intend to make him watch her nearly die? 

Fight me. 

Don’t leave me—not yet. 

He barely knew her, and yet he was certain he loved her. And if he was honest—which he was only willing to do right then, his fingers pressed against the sluggish pulse point in his new wife's wrist—he’d been fascinated by her the very first moment he’d laid his eyes on her.

She’d fought him like ten fully grown soldiers. No fear, so recklessly brave in the face of what had begun as certain death. He’d gone to slaughter the Ellesmerian General and instead put Feyre on a horse while Azriel wisely kept his mouth shut. 

Every moment after was merely a delay of the inevitable. She was here. She’d married him. He’d had a whole plan to soften her just enough to trust him, hoping she might one day love him back. 

“Is she going to die?” he asked, his fear coating his throat.

“Open her mouth,” Majda ordered, unperturbed. Rhys did as he was told, his own thudding heart mocking him. Majda poured a viscous brown liquid into Feyre’s throat, unconcerned when

Feyre bucked, sputtering against the taste.

“She needs to swallow all of it,” Majda warned Rhys, who wrapped a leg around Feyre’s waist and pinned her arms against her chest with his own hand while keeping the other on her jaw.

“You’re doing so well,” he praised, his mouth pressed to her cheek. Feyre whimpered as another round of that shit-scented liquid was poured into her throat.

“A lazy method of poisoning,” Majda grumbled, tapping the little vial gently against Feyre’s teeth in order to ensure all of it went into her body. “Saproot has about a hundred antidotes.”

“Is she…” His throat couldn’t get the words out.

“She’s going to wake up with a splitting headache. Give her some crushed salerum and keep her in bed.”

Her gaze sharpened as if to warn him to keep his cock far away from her. Rhys wasn’t a total bastard.

“She’ll live?”

Majda was already packing her things, as if this were all one large inconvenience. “She’ll live.”

Rhys pressed his lips to Feyre’s temple, holding her for just a moment longer. He waited until he heard the soft click of the door to bury his face in her hair, his relief coming in waves.

“This wasn’t what I imagined,” he admitted to her unconscious form. “I just assumed it would be me half-dead while you held my body. I think you would have enjoyed it more.”

He kissed her again. Feyre didn’t move, though her breathing had steadied and when he pressed his fingers to her pulse, he swore it felt stronger. Her immediate response to the antidote was enough to convince Rhys to lay her against the pillows undisturbed. 

Rhys felt as though a year had passed. It had been maybe ten minutes. Maybe less. Long enough to age him five hundred years, if the ache in his muscle was any indication. Rhys flexed his fingers, unable to look at Feyre for a moment longer. He’d fall to pieces if he did—and Rhys had business to conduct. His court had operated outside of his control and nothing made him angrier than knowing a group of his own courtiers had decided they knew best.

That they could do better. 

It was his home, his court, his crown. He’d decide who ruled and how, and if someone disagreed with his choices, they could say it to the tip of his blade. Rhys felt steadied, picking up his sword. Almost calm when he locked Feyre in their shared bedroom. He’d have a servant pack up her things later. 

Azriel was coming down the hall again, a cruel, cold smile on his familiar face. “All good?” his friend asked. Rhys noted the spray of blood against his scarred hands and wondered if his friend hadn’t been able to resist starting without him. 

“Saproot,” Rhys said, catching the surprise on Azriel’s face. If anyone was going to know the lethality of every plant in Illyria, it was going to be Azriel. 

“Lazy,” Azriel murmured, eyes flashing. “I wonder if they thought you’d be pleased.”

“I’m not,” Rhys replied, his voice more growl than anything. 

“Her sister is going to kill you,” Azriel added with amusement.

“I’m glad this is funny to you,” Rhys snapped, turning for the hall where his miserable court was held. What would happen if he just slaughtered them all and started over? Handed out their wealth and land to anyone that swore fealty to him? How long before they began conspiring, too? 

“It’s funny watching you fall in love, brother. You’re no better than Cass—”

Rhys whipped around, eyes wide. “Cassian?”

“Ready to lay his sword at Nesta’s feet. Fighting night and day…defiling the common eating space like an utter prick—”

“Well, at least that hasn’t changed,” Rhys agreed, trying to imagine it. Perhaps, if Nesta had any of Feyre’s fight, it made sense they’d fall like dominoes. “Maybe you ought to go collect the missing sister.”

Azriel’s features tightened but didn’t argue. He’d go if Rhys offered, and likely be turned right back around at the gate when Helion got wind. The four kings of the realm were a secretive bunch. If Helion had one of Archeron’s daughters, he wasn’t likely to trade her to Rhysand.

Not when giving her back to her own father might enrich him. Helion had been pushing his border against Archeron for decades, trying to regain miles of territory stolen in the middle of the night. 

And there was the matter of Eris to the West, who was likely watching them all carefully. Waiting to see where they all laid their armies before making a decision himself. Rhys had long thought Eris would be smart to let them all fight to the death and then swoop in and take whatever he liked. He’d certainly refused aid often enough, choosing instead to remain neutral. What did he make of three errant daughters suddenly becoming players rather than pawns? 

Rhys wanted all three for himself. He wanted his wife and her sisters. And when he killed their miserly father and put the crown atop whichever head he thought would obey him better, he wanted to know he had their undying gratitude.

And maybe he wanted Feyre to remind them that, should they think of stepping out of line, that she lived among them. A bridge between their two kingdoms, if nothing else.

Desperately, stupid in love if he had his way.

Rhys could have it all, he decided as he followed Azriel down the interconnecting corridors. Not to his dining hall, but down, down, down to the damp cold of his dungeons. Rhysand, having been denied satisfaction in the form of his wife, nearly groaned at the sight of Keir hanging from a set of irons. 

“There are others,” Azriel told him, taking that last step into the gloom. Fire-lit sconces lit up the dripping stone, mixing the smell of waste and mold with ash. 

“I could guess,” Rhys murmured. Keir, though… “What a prize.”

“Have your mocking fun,” Keir spat, the tips of his boots skimming over the stone. Azriel had forced him to hand, stressing his wrists and shoulders until eventually, they’d pop right out of their sockets. “We both know this is as far as you’re allowed.”

Rhys chuckled while Azriel circled like a predator. This was all fun and games, now. The only thing missing was Cassian, leaning against the wall as he made his little jokes. They’d catch him up later. 

Cassian had always wanted to see Keir drained of his blood. 

“Says who?”

Keir didn’t flinch, but Rhys was tired of this argument. Of the song, the dance. All of it. “The Darkbringers will never submit to your bastard General.”

“Then I’ll kill them too,” Rhys replied with a shrug. “As if there aren’t a thousand other soldiers just as talented that are willing to obey orders.”

“Not like mine.”

“Tell me, uncle. Did you think I’d thank you for your stunt tonight?” Rhys asked, halting Azriel just behind him. Keir tried to glance over his shoulder, his fear suddenly palpable. Azriel had drawn his blade from his thigh casually, admiring the steel in the flickering firelight.

“You should,” Keir hissed. “Your father is rolling in his grave knowing you’d put a baby in a northern whore—” Rhys hit Keir with a deafening crack, his ring splitting open Keir’s lip neatly. 

“I don’t recall giving you permission to speak,” Rhys replied, wiping the spluttering blood from Keir’s face with the back of his sleeve. “I don’t come to you for counsel.” 

“Maybe you should,” Keir managed, spitting blood to the floor. 

“Yeah? Do you think she’d still be here if I had?”

Keir’s face paled, as if all at once he realized the danger he was in. Behind him, Azriel dragged the tip of his blade over the exposed column of Keir’s neck. It would not be an easy death they offered him. 

“That was unfortunate—”

“It sure was,” Rhys agreed, nodding once to Azriel just behind. Azriel dragged the teeth of his blade over Keir’s jaw, circling behind his ear while the man writhed, unable to escape the onslaught. Rhys grinned savagely when the appendage fell wetly to the floor. 

“Your only job in my court is to obey,” Rhys reminded Keir, still fingering his sword sheathed in his hand. “To inform me of the comings and goings.”

“Stop,” Keir pleaded as Azriel’s blade cut a line against the back of his neck. “Stop this, please.”

But Rhys couldn’t. He’d hated Keir his entire life and had always believed he couldn’t rule without his uncle's legitimacy backing him up. Centuries of an unbroken line through Keir had been sullied—supposedly—when his father, much like Rhys was doing now, married a woman his court deemed inappropriate. His mother had been merely common, and Illyrian from the mountains his father had taken one look at and fallen madly in love with.

Rhys, who had hated his father, supposed they shared that trait in common. He wouldn’t treat his own wife with so little regard…and he would punish everyone who disrespected her. His mother had been forced to endure.

Feyre would not. 

Keir's begging was pure music. Rhys reveled in his pleas, trading Azriel for his knife to cut off a finger, to gouge out an eye. They took turns pushing the knife carefully into Keir’s body—avoiding any major arteries to prolong Keir’s pain.

He apologized—and it wasn’t enough. For Rhys, a little boy who’d watched the powerful men at court abuse every woman he’d ever cared about, it would never be enough. Keir wasn’t satisfied with the deaths of his mother, his sister—his cousin, though he was desperate to think otherwise—but tried to take his wife, too. 

He was the one who finally drove his sword through Keir’s throat, arms still suspended as Rhys pinned him to the back wall. He could hear Keir’s bones snapping in his arm, his gurgled screaming as he tried desperately to draw breath.

Rhys watched all of it, well aware the hours he’d spent in the dungeon echoed. Every courtier who had participated in the plot had been forced to listen. The two were coated in blood by the time Keir fell silent. Azriel inclined his head, a silent question in his eyes.

Are you done?

Rhys offered his friend a shake of his head.

They’d keep going.

FEYRE:

Feyre woke to a pounding head and a throat coated in what felt like sand. Reaching across the pillow blindly, she expected to find Rhys waiting. She didn’t know why she thought he would be—only that it seemed logical his body would be stretched beside her own. He wasn’t, and she was alone in the dark with only the dying embers of the fireplace for company.

Well, that and headache powder. Feyre pushed herself upwards, pouring a shaky glass of water and eyeballing the mixture. She drank quickly, grateful the throbbing beat in her head began to ebb almost instantly. 

Feyre drank another glass of cool water just for good measure before she stretched out her limbs. How embarrassing, to collapse on her wedding night. She sat on the edge of the bed, still in the wedding gown Rhys had been meant to take off. She wondered if he was out celebrating somewhere.

If he’d chosen different company. The thought made her stomach twist, a dangerous prospect given Feyre was pretty sure she’d vomited at some point. She stood, legs trembling as if she’d run a marathon, and managed to unclasp the buttons that ran the length of her spine. Feyre discarded the dress and the lace underthings with a small amount of regret.

It might have been nice to see if he liked them. 

She went to his bathing chamber, perching on the heavy lip of the square, marble tub while she waited for scalding water to fill the interior. Feyre took the opportunity to pour in his nice, jasmine-scented bubbles and oils before she unclipped her hair and tied it up off her face.

She slid into the water with a hiss. Whatever pleasure her wedding night might have offered was nothing compared to the steam warming her face and the heat loosening her aching muscles. 

Feyre stretched, luxuriating like she was a cat. She wanted to forget about Rhys, but his rejection stung a little. 

A lot.

Feyre slid further into the large tub until only her nose and eyes were visible in the water. Tendrils of her carefully styled hair flopped into the water around her, floating among the iridescent bubbles. She decided if her new husband had already taken another woman to bed, she would truly remove his cock from his body.

Pleased at the notion, she started to slide further, to submerge herself so she was at one with the water around her. Feyre was certain the bath might fix whatever was wrong with her, and when she emerged she’d be back in fighting shape.

“Feyre!”

A rough, panicked voice pulled her out of the water. She didn’t move, unsure if she’d imagined it. 

“Feyre!” Rhys called again, fear coating the world. She let her arm slosh through the water, the only response she could muster. A moment later, Rhys was in the doorway, panting as if he’d run the whole way. Feyre’s lips parted, all rational thought eddying from her mind at the sight of him drenched in blood. 

For one horrible moment, she thought it must be his own. She forgot herself, rising upwards with shaking hands.

Rhys groaned, eyes sliding down her dripping body. He hit his knees with a rattling thud of the chandelier overhead.

“Come here, darling,” he said, his gaze bouncing from her soapy breasts to her cunt.

“Are you hurt?” she asked him. Should she call for a healer? 

Rhys, still kneeling, dropped his hands to his sides, fingers clenching to fists. “They tried to poison you.”

“Oh,” she whispered. Suddenly, the sight of him, his panicked voice, all that blood? It all made sense. Feyre stepped carefully over the edge, water pooling on the marble beneath her feet. She raked her own eyes over his form, admiring the way the maroon complimented the brown of his skin. It streaked through hair so black it seemed to be gilded blue in the overhead light. 

His clothes were ruined, but at that moment, Feyre thought he looked like a terrible, avenging God. 

And she wanted him. Gods, but how she wanted him. He held himself still, that wary look etched across his features as he waited for her to come to him. Feyre was careful, urging him to stand with the wet pads of her fingers beneath his elbows.

A blood-soaked strand of hair flopped into his violet eyes. Feyre slid her hands over his tunic—the one he’d married her in some time that morning—and began deftly undoing the buttons. He was trembling by the time she finished, still as a statue while Feyre pushed his off his broad shoulders. There was such a contrast between his smooth, unblemished chest and the messy violence of his angelic face. 

She went for the laces on his pants, hands steady for the first time since she’d met him. Rhys’s cock sprang out to greet her, inexplicably hard in spite of everything. She might have laughed had he not seemed so nervous.  

Feyre pushed his pants over his hips and finally Rhys came back to life, kicking off his boots to get the trousers over his ankles. He stood before her, just as naked and aroused as she was, a good head and shoulders taller.

“Did you kill them?” It was a terrifying question. 

Did you kill them because of me?

“I did,” he whispered, swallowing hard. “And I took a long time doing it.”

Feyre pressed her hand to his taut stomach, fingers tangling in the trail of dark hair just beneath his navel.

“Are you sorry?”

He laughed. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here when you woke. I’m not sorry they’re dead.”

The words were so casually cruel. So callous in their thoughtlessness. “Is this what I should expect?”

A ghost of his usual sultry smile slid over his features. “If someone tries to hurt you? Yes, Feyre. You should expect far, far worse if another person crosses me when it comes to my wife.”He said those last two words like a prayer. 

My wife.

The possession and the heat were enough to convince her she was done talking. Feyre raised up on her tiptoes, reaching for his bloodstained shoulders. Rhys groaned against her mouth, their teeth clacking when their need superseded any grace they might have had. The familiar sweetness of his mouth was cut by the copper on his lips, a fact that should have disgusted her. 

But this was violence done on her behalf. And for the first time in Feyre’s life, someone had gone to war for her and won. Had picked her. 

Rhys hauled her up in his arms, one large hand spanning against her ass to hold her while the other tangled in her mouth. She could feel his cock pressed against her stomach, the tip of him teasing just beneath her breasts. 

Feyre raked her nails over his scalp, trying to touch every little part of him as quickly as she could. A fire was burning in her gut, urging her to take as much as she could without a care as to how she got it. Rhys stepped backward, until she was flush between the wall and his body.

“Feyre,” he moaned, tongue tangling against her own before he could say anything else. She didn’t want to hear him speak—she only wanted to hear the escaping sounds of his pleasure, each ripped from behind his teeth as though he couldn’t control himself.

Because of her.

He was wild, undone, feral.

And it was all her fault. 

The hand in her hair came to her breast, palming and teasing the aching, tender flesh until Feyre was rubbing herself against him. Arching her neck, Rhys pressed a sucking kiss against her pulse point before licking at the little hurt.

Feyre slid her hand between them, gripping his cock so she could stroke him. She needed to feel his want, proof of his arousal, just to know it was real. A moan slipped from his mouth, captured by her eager, greedy lips as he bucked into her hand. It wasn’t enough. Feyre arched into him.

“Rhys,” she whispered against his open mouth. “Please, I need—” “What do you need?” he interrupted, as if he couldn’t help himself. He was still pumping himself into her hand, making a mockery of her lust. 

“You,” she panted, trying so hard to angle her hips so he’d drive himself into her. “I need you.”

His eyes blazed. “You don’t have to beg,” he told her, pulling from her grasp. She could feel the silken head of his cock teasing her entrance, pushing just enough to make her whole body tight before pulling away. 

“My pretty wife wants to be filled,” he breathed, teeth grazing over her neck. “Needs to be stretched around my cock.”

“I do,” she whispered, writhing when he teased a circle over her clit but still kept himself from pushing inside her. Rhys was getting off on prolonging their shared release, forgetting he’d married her. Surely he was entitled to a full day of nothing but having her in his bed? 

Feyre dug her nails into his skin, biting at his shoulder when once again, Rhys worked her up. She could see his own tenuous control shredding before her very eyes while he gulped down air. Feyre gripped his face, forcing him to look at her. His eyes snapped to her face just in time for a punishing, bloody kiss. Neither looked away, watching the other while they rubbed against each other. 

“I like the taste of you,” she whispered when they pulled apart. Rhys’s bruised lips formed a soft oh, the violet of his eyes a bright shock against the red.

He drove into her without another word, leaving Feyre breathless with surprise. Stretched was an understatement. She wasn’t accustomed to the size, to the thickness of his cock now twitching inside her. There was no room for anything else, including her own lungs. She panted shallow, gasping breaths while he groaned into her hair. 

That first thrust pushed every remaining thought from Feyre’s head. Brutal pleasure wrapped itself around her neck, turning her into a creature of instinct and nothing more. She worked to accommodate him, the slickness of her arousal softening each new push until there was no pain at all.

Only pleasure. Only them, their mouths bruising at the other. She couldn’t get enough of his taste, of the feel of his tongue finding hers in the space between their lips. One hand beneath her ass, kneading desperately at her flesh while his other continued groping her breasts with the fevered devotion of an acolyte. 

The only sounds were the slap of their bodies, coming together with a frantic hunger neither of them could slake. Feyre was building, could tell he was too. They were going to come apart together or not at all, and when she felt her gathered release pushing against her cunt, Feyre didn’t try and hold it back. She arched, letting him swallow that needy moan. Her whole body went tight around him, gripping him desperately—like her only lifeline.

Rhys came too, his hips frantic, his pace bruising. She felt him come, felt the way he spent himself against her until it dripped down his own stomach to splatter to the floor.

Rhys panted, forehead to forehead. She stroked his face gently, her own heart trying to escape her ribcage. 

“This wasn’t how I imagined this night,” he confessed, kissing just beneath her jaw. They were still connected, and part of her hoped they might remain that way. She didn’t think she was capable of standing. 

“Really? Because this is exactly how I imagined it,” she replied. A genuine smile cracked over his features, just enough to make Feyre think that maybe they’d be okay. It was her turn to offer up a kiss, one she placed just at the side of his neck. “You should let me wash you.”

“Because of all the blood?” he guessed, regretfully sliding himself out of her.

“It seems wrong to stain the sheets,” she agreed, grateful the wall behind her kept her steady. 

“But you’ll bathe me?” he asked, a note of vulnerability staining his words. Feyre recognized that melody, the question. Had heard it too many times in her own voice not to. She nodded, her chest tight. 

“I’ll stay.”

That was what he wanted to hear.

And Feyre was afraid that maybe it was what she wanted, too.

[randomtwfan]

Alexander x Princess Eilonwy's royal wedding please ?

U've got it!!!

Sorry in advance if this is not what you expected. I really hope you enjoy it, but if you don't, I can try my best to rewrite it.

I am also sorry for making you wait. Like I told you, I struggle with GAD, and sometimes it's a little hard for me to go on with what I know I have to do. Thank you again for your kindness and understandment.💕💕

Now, have your story, I wrote it with my heart.

The Royal Wedding

After the stylist was done making one final adjustment in her hair, Eilonwy smiled proudly at her own reflection as she took in her appearence. Her beautiful, wavy blonde lockes were styled with a beautifu flower shaped clip that held part of it in a perfectly held bun and allowed the rest to cascade down her shoulders, contrasting with the light lavander shade of her dress. Holding the veil was a delicate tiara, with encrusted little diamonds and a round polished ametist in the center.

-You look divine.

She turned around to see Taran looking at her, the smile on his face mirrorring her own.

-Thank you.

-Feeling ready!

-It's the most certain I have ever been.

It had been 6 years since Princess Eilonwy had accidentally stumbled upon Alexander in the halls of Auradon Prep. Now, both of them were 19 and ready to vowl that they would spend the rest of their lives with each other. She would have him by her side rulling Prydain; all that was missing was the official cerimony for that: the Royal Wedding. And this was exactly what she was doing here today; with Alice, Jane Darling, and Tiger Lily as her Bridesmaids and Taran to walk her down the isle, she knew that her big day was going to be just as perfect as a dream come true.

Outside, the castle was beautifully decorated. With the kingdom flag hanging on the walls, a red carpet to guide her to the altar and especially gorgeous tables for all of their guests, the whole environament was everything they could have asked for -though it might have take a little bit of work on Alexander's part to convince Eilonwy that there was no need for more than five steps on their angel food cake. And of course, some playful comments from his best friend, and best man Lampwick, that she was going a liiiitle bit overboard. Just a little bit.

-I'm ready. -She assured.

-So let's get this started. -He offered her his arm, and she took it.

As the orchestra began playing the most harmonic symphonies, the cerimony started. First, an incredibly happy Alexander entered, his green eyes sparkling with happiness; then, Alice and Pinocchio; Jane Darling and her girlfriend Shanti; and finally Tiger Lily and Lampwick. Now, for the great entrance, it was Eilowy's turn. With Taran by her side, she took a step, and walked in.

Everyone stared in awe as the beautiful princess walked confidently down the aisle, the joy in her groom's eyes being reflected in her owm blue ones. The not so long, flowery tail of her lavander dress and veil flowed subtly behind her, and each step she took was marked with graciousness; this was her moment.

-You look stunning; even more than usual. -He whispered when she was close enough.

-You look amazing too. -She replied. It was incredible how he could still make her blush even after all this time toghether.

Fairy Godmother started the formalities, and all of the guests were paying the best attention, but the bride and groom were too busy contemplating each other for that. They felt in heaven. Finally, it was time for the vowls: each of them spoke from the bottom of their hearts, love dripping out of every word that came out their mouths, the glow in their eyes showing just how devoted they were to each other and how happy they were to make that official.

-I do.

-I do.

With a joyful expression, FGM said what was missing:

-You may kiss the bride.

Everyone cheered as Alexander pulled Eilowy to a passionate, deep kiss. And to close the moment, they exchanged the beautiful white gold rings, hers having a pointy diamond on top.

-I love you. -She said one more time, staring at his eyes like they were her world; and they do say that eyes are the windows of the soul.

-And I love you. Always will.

This is Disney, folks; you know how it ends, don't you? But as the friendly cliché messanger I am, let's put in words: they lived happily ever after. ;)