#hinted beast monarch x iron body monarch

[thesparrowmelody]

Canon divergence au where the beast monarch didn't die and retreat instead

The beast monarch waver in the last moment and changed his stance to plunge right in front of Lennart. Causing Lennart to nearly lose his footing at the impact of the monarch plunge. The beat monarch sworn that he saw the iron body monarch standing in front of him just a moment ago but the illusion disappears once he stands in front of the young man. Upon looking closely he realised that they're not as similar as he thought but he can't help but feel curious about the person in front of him. His blue eyes stared into him with a slight hint of fear but there was not even a single hint of regret in his eyes as he stood his ground in front of a monarch to protect the other man.

Lennart silently wonders what causes the beast monarch to stop. He tower of him with his mass and height and yet his stance is faltering as he hunches down to stare at him. The beast monarch eyed him and compared him to his beloved iron body monarch. The similarities are there sort of. He leaned closer toward him.

"What-" Lennart heart skips a beat and his body stiffens, he clenches his hands preparing to punch him if he ever tries anything but the beast monarch only leans closer and sniff him hard. Heat blossomed in his cheek. Inside he internally wonders the odds of having the beast monarch sniff him like an animal. Merlin, he didn't smell did he??

"You," the beast monarch spoke cutting his thought short .

Lennart said "What?!"

"You smell similar to him in a way," He said with a slight fondness in his voice that waver Lennart stance. His eyes grow distance as if remembering a memory or a person and a hint of a very small smile can be seen before he smirked and walked away.

Suddenly he didn't feel like fighting and wished to see the iron body monarch. He might call him a fool for letting them escape and maybe jealous and angry that he dared compare him to a lowlife hunter. But the iron body monarch might be right that they might as well wait for Antares to return before ambushing the shadow monarch together.

"W-wait!! You're not going anywhere" Lennart started running after him but stopped short when he feel a familiar weight holding him back.

"Let him go" Lennart hesitated, "This won't be the last time we meet" Thomas assured him.

The next time they meet he'll be more prepared and ensure he doesn't escape again.

These two pairings have a chokehold on me today I can't even concentrate on my work 🥺

[egotheplanet]

Betrothed (Gladiator!Eren Jaeger x Princess!Reader)

{Part 1 of my Mystical Realm AU Masterlist}

Summary: Eren Jaeger is a gladiator with the stage name ‘Titan’ who wins your hand and defends your honor in a match against the rival kingdom of your land.

Word Count: 3k

TW: Blood, Violence, Arranged Marriage, Fainting, Creepy Step-Father, Lots of Commas

 The screams of the crowd are deafening as you approach the Royal-Access-Only entrance of the arena. Your step-father, ruler of the Kingdom of Chandovich, sent a request through his most trusted advisor. All he explained to Sir Rivaille, was to escort you to the match. No amount of questions you proposed to the knight would reveal any new information, since he only knew as much as you did.

 He’s never once done this before. The king and queen are both well aware how much you hate the brutality of it all. You squint at the bright light of the end of the hallway and you ponder why he wants you there now. The only thing you know for certain is that his favorite gladiator is fighting on the kingdoms behalf today.

 Eren Jaeger.

 An undefeated beast of a man going for his 60th consecutive win. The match today is against the rivaling kingdoms champion, the Beast as he is aptly called. Your father always places a delicious incentive for the winner and is known for keeping his word.

 Your mind swirls with wonder and your stomach sinks with anxiety while you think about what he promised today and what it has to do with you being there. As you enter the royal box seat, the view of adoring fans and your fathers back enters your view. The clanging of metal swords against shields assaults your ear drums. The seats are on the floor level and this close to the stage, you can see the sweat rolling off the fighters’ bodies.

 The Titan, Erens well earned stage name, beats his iron against the mans shield repeatedly without wavering. His opponent, who is many times his size, is kneeling and clearly struggling albeit refusing to give up. Your kings of opposing lands stand at the same time since the match is about to end. The already roaring crowd is lively, people in the stands holding signs and throwing food and flowers into the ring in support of their respective fighter. Children can be seen on their parents shoulders in efforts for better views.

 You finally walk to his side and the crowd goes wild at the sight of you. Your crown digs into your finely plaited hair, adding to your growing headache which spawned from the loud atmosphere, as you bow ever so slightly to show respect for the king. The Titan throws one final blow, slicing the challenger from his neck to his rib cage. Effectively chopping off his arm. The man falls to his knees before the rest of his body hits the ground; bleeding out though you refuse to look and see. The crowd goes berserk and Eren drops his blood soaked sword to the ground with a clatter. His chest heaves as he attempts to catch his breath. Sweat drips from his forehead down his neck and finally onto his chest. His hair, wildly unkempt and freely falling, sticks to his face. Blood covers most parts of his body.

 He takes no time reveling his victory before he kneels on one knee. His forearm rests atop of it, his long brown hair covering his face as he bows his head to your father as a sign of acknowledgment.

 Your father looks down at you proudly with an almost undetectable hint of an apologetic gaze. Your brow quirks in question and you part your lips to inquire as to why he looked this way, but his voice booms over the theater to make an announcement— cutting you off before you began.

 “Never in my years as King of Chandovich have I seen a greater gladiator in this theater. And never once have I seen such an important match end so quickly.” The crowd is dim to hear the speech and you can hear your heart hammer against your rib cage. “Our appropriately named Titan fought well against his opponent from Vestotua. Perhaps the promise of such a grand prize gave him more of a reason to win, hm?” The crowd cheers and you frown, perplexed as to why your father brought you out here to see the end of a match.

 And the allusion of your presence being such a prize.

 “Well I’m proud our homeland remains victorious in this prestigious arena. And beyond pleased to announce that Mr. Jaeger has not only won his freedom.. But a title! Congratulations, Titan, your fighting years are over and your years being a member of the royal court begin today!” He claps and nods down at the man.

 The onlookers cheer for the story of a commoner becoming something better. Stories of this caliber always benefit commoner-castle relations for years.

 Jaegers jaw visibly clenches in disdain and he stands, the crowd audibly hushes as he grabs his sword, pointing it toward the king. They erupt in gasps and some throw a few boo’s.

 Knights Rivaille and Kirschtein grip the hilts of their swords in preparation to defend the crown.

 “That’s not all I was promised. Make good on your word, King.” The Titans voice is venomous and your father smirks slightly at the audacity.

 “Dear boy, where do you think the title comes from? How low of me do you think that I would not keep my solemn word? The princess is all yours! Do forgive the lack of a bow atop your gift.” The crowd laughs loudly and the knights beside you tense with unease.

 Your jaw slacks and your chest heaves as you look at your father in shock. The jewels and fine fabrics covering you feel heavier than cement blocks.

 “What? I—“ Your voice is panicked and soft as disbelief coats your throat.

 He pats you on the back, pushing you forward to the edge of the viewing box. The fighter steps ahead and bends ever so slightly so he’s eye to eye with you.

 His chest continues to heave and his nostrils flare, sending hot air onto your face. He smells of blood, booze, sweat and of the barn animals he sleeps beside at night. Teal irises glare deeply into your e/c ones until you look away, too frightened to speak or move. His rough, blood covered hands reach over the edge to grasp yours.. tenderly? Hard calluses gently bore into the soft flesh of your freshly manicured hands. You wouldn’t expect such a light touch from such a brutish man with a reputation as his.

 “...Good. I’ll collect my things and be back for her later.” He breathes out, the hot air again hitting your cheek from the proximity. He turns and strides away, warm hands finally leaving yours. You find yourself growing instantly cold without him before you. You clasp your hands together in front of you to savor the warmth.

 The king chuckles deeply and slaps your backside hard causing you to flinch and whimper slightly. Just a small portion of the ‘affection’ your step-father gives you.

 “Your things? Not to worry, boy! We have plenty of hay and pigs at the castle.” At the word ‘pigs’, he snatches your arm and flails it in the air.

 The crowd roars in laughter and the gladiator halts his steps, visibly trembling in anger before continuing to walk to the fighters exit. He doesn’t look back or respond to the taunt.

 You frown deeply and tears burn the bottom of your eye-line. Your heart and stomach ache because you’re being given away to a monster. Because your father views you as nothing more than a cheap gift for heathens. Because the man you’re going to marry is a murderer.

 Because... he’s being as poorly treated by your king as you are. That thought sneaks it’s way in and you shake it away with a tremble.

 Because he is probably going to treat you worse than you could ever imagine.

 The scent of blood evaporating in the midday sun hits your nose harshly. Your head swirls and the sunlight dims impossibly dark. An unexpected eclipse? No..

 Your hands and feet grow freezing cold and the breath expels quickly from your chest in one large wheeze. In all but an instant, you feel yourself falling backwards uncontrollably. But that’s all you feel before you completely lose consciousness.

 The crowd gasps and the knight protecting your father leaps forward, catching you in his arms. Your only friend in the castle, Sir Kirschtein, furrows his brow in worry as he lifts you up bridal style. Preventing any serious injury to your body, he hugs you close to his armored chest.

 The king rolls his eyes and sighs, hands in the air while he shrugs before slapping them down at his sides.

 “Women are such frail creatures, aren’t they?” The crowd murmurs worriedly about their beloved princess. The kings eyes narrow as he yells; “I said, women are such frail creatures, aren’t they!!” the crowd pauses for a beat before erupting into forced laughter.

 Jean clenches his teeth and begins walking out, his grip on you tight and protective.

 The king taps his shoulder and he turns ever so slightly.

 “Majesty?” Jean looks down into his eyes, almost begging him to try something. The knight stands a good few inches taller than the monarch.

 “Ahem.. Yes, well. Take her to bed and ensure the handmaidens have gathered all her necessary things for her new home in the countryside. Ensure her meeting with the beast goes well or I’m sure I will get an earful from the lady Queen.” He rubs his temples in annoyance at the thought.

 The knight nods instead of speaking, worried his tongue will be shaper than he intends. As much as he wants to defend your sacred honor, his head is on the line and he cannot protect you from beyond the grave.

 When you awaken, you’re in your room. The sheer canopy of your bed filters the light from the windows smoothly. Your head rushes with blood and your eyes feel as if they could roll out of your skull. Jean is sitting in an elegant chair to your left, holding your hand very gently.

 “How are you feeling, highness?” His voice is very soft so as not to hurt your head further but the worry trickles through his words feverishly.

 Your face flushes in embarrassment as you attempt to sit up. You make it without too many problems, sitting back against the headboard and goose down pillows. Your hand rubs the back of your head where the source of the throbbing is coming from.

 “Out of it.. Please tell me I dreamt all of that or I may begin to weep.” Your voice softly trembles as you recall the earlier events.

 Jean looks sorrowful as he lowers his gaze.

 “I-I’m sorry, Y/N. There was nothing I could do.”

 You bite your lip, closing your eyes in defeat and nod once.

 You’ve been trained your entire life to become a good and fair maiden. Good enough to be handed off in some sort of deal later on in life as a shining and glorious gift. You’ve grown up knowing you’d become a political tool sooner or later.

 You’d just hoped it would’ve been later. Much, much later. To a prince or someone stately at least!

 “I never thought I’d be handed off to some.. some monster. I thought the least the king could offer me after a life of subjection was a choice in when I get offered up. But now I’m being forced into the life of a common street dog.” You put your face in your hands as the tears finally spill over.

 A deep voice calls to you from the shadowy end of your room.

 “So which is it, princess? Am I a monster or a street dog?” Eren leans against your dresser; his arms crossed against his chest, eyes glaring into your silhouette.

 You gasp and look up, seeing the outline of him grow larger and hearing his heavy footsteps as he walks to the end of your bed.

 Jean growls, clenching the hilt of the sword on his hip. “That’s close enough, Titan.”

 Eren stops immediately and sighs.

 “I’m sorry, princess.”

 Both you and the knight look at each other before resetting your eyes to the commonly unruly man.

 As the light encompasses him through your sheer curtains, you see he’s been cleaned and redressed. The deep chocolate colored hair is tied back with a small braid running into the messy bun. His shirt is a fluffy cuffed cotton with buttons trailing down the front. His pants are black, long and high waisted, accentuating his body’s firm frame. However, the teal eyes from arena remain the same.

 “What was that you said?” You whisper, not trusting your ears fully.

 “I’m sorry you’re being given away like this. Forced into a marriage with me, I mean. I honestly didn’t want to fight for you at all.” Jean scoffs at this.

 “Bastard.” He murmurs.

 “I only wanted freedom.”

 Your eyes widen as you recognize the feeling.

 You listen religiously as he begins to explain the predicament he was placed in.

 “The king promised me before the match that if I won against our rival land, I’d be free. He never mentioned anything about winning your hand. Until..” He trails off and looks to Jean.

 “Until the opposing King of Vestotua said that wasn’t a good enough prize for a fight of this magnitude...” The good knight finishes for him.

 You look beside you to your most trusted ally, hand gently gripping his forearm as it rests atop your red and gold stitched duvet.

 “King Gnowles said the only prize worthy enough would be your hand, princess.” He looks up apologetically. “If they won, you had to marry their fighter to prove how submissive our kingdom is when it comes to Vestotua making commands. But if we won, you belong to our gladiator to make things even.” Jean says through clenched teeth. His hand digs into your comforter in a death grip, probably envisioning the kings throat.

 Eren walks around your square shaped bed to sit beside you. Your body leans toward him as the bed dips in his favor. A hand reaches out slowly to take place on your shoulder but hesitates when you flinch away. He places the warm appendage on your shoulder after giving you a moment to prepare.

 “This isn’t what I wanted. I tried to opt out, please believe me. But the king said you’d automatically go to them if I forfeit. I definitely mulled over forfeiting anyway, but their challenger started..” he shakes his head and puts his lips together in disgust. “Saying things... What he would do to you once you were his. Once you ‘belonged to him’.” He quickly stands again and the contact is lost between you both.

 Your heart flips.

 Whether from his recount or the feeling of his hands on you, you’re unsure.

 He walks to your window which overlooks the seaside and slams his palms on the windowsill.

 He growls as he stares out at the free rolling waves.

 “I decided then that I would fight for you. We’re all born free. From the day we are born, we are free. It doesn’t matter how strong those who deny us that freedom are. A clerk, a knight, hell, even a king. A human being cannot belong to anyone! I’m willing to protect your freedom no matter what. You think I’d let some disgusting rat own and defile you? Not on your life!” He whips around to face you at the last line, his right hand clenched into a fist to prove his virtue. His voice is raised and posture straight as he proudly exclaims what he believes in.

 For some reason.. you feel... content.

 He genuinely wants you to be safe. And free. That’s more than ever could’ve be said about your step father. Even your own mother agreed to this, so you’re told. The only person in the entire castle who thinks of you as an autonomous-breathing person is Sir Kirschtein.

 Up until now that is.. the man you’re betrothed to is willing to offer you your independence with his life. Your heart flips again as his eyes lock with yours.

 “I-I...” you stutter and stare up at him in awe.

 He feels his cheeks flush when he notices the stars in your eyes. He averts his gaze, turning around in an attempt to remain valiant.

 “Look.. We do have to get married and you do have to come live with me in a house provided by the kingdom. It’s on private land over the hills. B-But that’s the only thing you have no choice in! I vow to never make you do anything you don’t want to do. I’ll take care of the land and the livestock so you can have your own life. I’ll stay out of your way as much as possible. I’ll build whatever you want and obtain whatever you like. Just..” he makes a noise sounding like a hesitant scratch in the back of his esophagus. “Just promise you won’t call me a monster or a street dog again.” He looks back up at you with pain in his eyes.

 You can tell from his previous speech about freedom that he’s had a rough life. After all he’s willing to do for you, after all he’s already done, the least you can do is honor this wish.

 “As you desire.” You speak softly and angelically as your body tries to stand.

 “H-Hey you should be resting!” Jean tries to grab you before you get up but you move too quickly.

 Your feet are wobbly, sure, but you confidently walk and stand in front of your future husband. You turn him around to face you by placing your hands on his shoulders. You smile warmly up at him.

 “We can make this work, Eren Jaeger. I truly believe we can.” You reach forward and grab his hands in the same gentle manner he did at the theater.

 This time it’s his turn to flush all shades of pink as he looks down into your eyes. “I’m going to do my best to make you as happy as you’re making me by freeing me from this castle.” You squeeze his hands comfortingly and your eyes begin to water from joy, the smile never faltering from your cheeks.

 Perhaps you’re better suited to a life on the seaside with The Titan than you are to a life as a confined princess.

 With a wedding planned for the morning, the two of you cannot wait to find out.