SOOO GOODDDDDDD

SOOO GOODDDDDDD 😋

The Ocean at 21:00

After Zaros was crowned and became king, Earis was shunned away. Never to be seen again, after a couple years, the King of Serulla gets an update.

M!Earis, Post-Noble Trials, Semi-Angst(???)

The Noble trials were finished years ago, Zaros has been the king for 6 and a half years. It felt like yesterday that the crown was placed on his blond head, while Earis smiled at him for the last time.

He’s fought battles, went through the hardships of being the new royal family, regretted many of his decisions, had beautiful banquets inviting the common folk and royalty to eat together, all the sorts.

Something he didn’t think about though, is how painful ruling is. The public would yell and shout, and the work would build up until there was sleep-less weeks, with no one there to help him, hell, even listen to him. The only days he’s enjoyed being king, is going on missons.

These missions let him get some fresh air from the responsibilities waiting for him on his desk.

This time, his mission was to go to the kingdom of Lsmena, to provide insight of trading matters..transportation stuff…blah blah blah.

This kingdom was known for its rich history with music and the arts, mostly performance arts near the water. Since the whole kingdom is surrounded by water, having lovely townsfolk, perfect weather, and a amazing range of rare flowery. It somehow felt like a vacation for Zaros, all things considered.

Stepping onto the dock, with 2 guards behind him, his red and black coat flowing behind him akin to a blaze. Walking pridefully, seeing the view of the beachside town.

The kids where playing games, girls in pretty, Greek-style outfits we’re practicing their dances next to the water, the houses were a light brown, and Zaros smiled. Today was going to be a small break, finally.

He walked up the hill, gliding towards the urban area of Lsmena.

Everything was going fine, until he saw a flash of man with long black hair and two large scars on his face standing next to a building, talking to a brown-haired woman with porcelain like skin.

Could.. could that’ve been Earis?

And.. who was that woman?

WHO was that woman?

He zips his head backward, with a bit of a fumbled expression.

No, it couldn’t have been him, they haven’t seen each other in almost 7 years! Maybe, Zaros was just being delusional and missed Earis a bit too much. It was just a couple striding along the Oceanside. Nothing to see there.

They treaded on. It was only a while until him and his guards get on the Carriage they had transport them to the castle.

After hours spent looking at the scenery, they made it to the officials, and they had a meeting. And even more hours were wasted from there.

Tired, Zaros told his guards to get them a decent inn to stay at, and he’ll explore more of the city. The guards obligee, and off he went. For some reason, he felt a nervousness in his heart.

For the most part, he DID just wanna explore and see the flowers, but he was tugged by the nervousness of chance, what if that was Earis?

Shaking his head, he decided to entertain himself by seeing the gardens that the city had to offer.

Walking down yet another hill, the lights were beautiful, highlighting the cool breeze that went along with it, colored in hues of red, yellow, and pink. Some of the residents bowing down to him, realizing who he was, or offering him a drink. He was too tired to care.

Although, his eyes drifted to a couple holding hands, the same man with long black hair, all let down, with that woman again. A rush of alertness rushed into him.

There was a decision that ruler Zaros had to make.

Reveal himself to his old friend, or have him notice Zaros?

His feelings skyrocketed, and he tapped the man on the shoulder.

“I apologize for the hinderance, but you look like someone I knew..”

Before he could finish, the old friend turned to Zaro’s direction. It was him. His scars, pretty lips, dark eyes, and beautiful skin. His hair was down, flowing with the Lsmena air. The woman next to him gave Zaros a puzzled expression.

Earis started to speak, “…Ruler Zaros of Serulla?” With wide eyes and a puzzled expression.

Zaros felt a weight on his heart, he took off his crown to be one to one with his old friend.

“Earis! It has definitely been the wait worthwhile since I’ve last saw you.”

The other man smiled, that didn’t use to happen before.

“Zaros, it is definitely humbling after seeing you, the years do go by, I admit.” Earis calmly said.

Zaros felt lighter, “Alas, what have you been dabbling in? A new place, rich villages?”

For some reason, he forgot all the reasons why the man standing infront of him brought him so much pain, which is the reason being they didn’t banter like they used to.

Earis responded. “None of the sort.” He chuckled. “Here, allow me to introduce you, Ruler of Serulla, my wife. Apollonia!”

Zaros heart dropped.

He felt a unruly feeling in his soul, seeing Earis with someone else. It’s instinct, at this point. He must’ve gotten with her because of her looks.

Apollonia was a woman of great beauty, her gorgeous wavy brown hair with big eyes. Freckles spiked on her face, smooth skin and happy demeanor. What people known her for though, was her personality, her personality was accepting—loving, and always wanted to help someone out. Married to Earis for 4 years now. She used to live in Serulla in her childhood, and she knew Earis on a deep level before moving to her home kingdom.

Zaros thought, as their introductions and conversation grew on, Earis is a coward. That man told him that one day, he’ll come back and they could rule together, that he found himself within Zaros and “there just couldn’t be another,” it was a lie. All of it. Blasphemy.

Being Ruler usually swayed what he says, which is happening right now, but he let a simple sentence slip while staring at Earis.

“Was all of it a lie, my friend..?!”

They all went silent. Zaros realized what he said, and realized the people watching him, his heart started to pound and world felt like it wasn’t any different than it was 7 seven years ago.

It felt automatic, like all the years of sleepless weeks finally caught up to his feelings.

“You run off to this.. island.. and find a lady like HER? You left me alone. Alone to rule! You know that everyone knows that you humiliated yourself by not winning the games, but I have you mercy.. just for one time.. and I am left alone standing. Looking at this!” The blond adult.. adult child, spat. He felt pensive, aggravated, and envious in the worst ways.

Earis stopped. Gripped his wife’s hand harder, and said, very quietly. Very calmly. Like a ballerina on a the stage, or.. akin to the lowest key of the piano.

“Don’t ever talk about my wife. Ever again. She is the love of my life, the woman I’ve known since I could play piano, the woman that helped me through everything, my whole life…

“She’s better than you could’ve ever been. Goodbye, my eminence.”

Apollonia looked at him with worry and they lock arms, looking at him with such a love and affection that it caused Earis to smile. Earis sighed, looked at her and they walked off. His wedding ring blinged in the lights of the city.

It was tense. Awkward.

Dreamy, and the taste of selfishness in the air.

Zaros felt, for the first time, that maybe his Earis was right. Maybe, all he does is ruin things for himself. For everyone. That train of events that just unfolded before that street was selfish and unproper. All because his little heart was broken by the boy he doesn’t know anymore.

It’s almost like, he’s become the thing he swore he would never become.

Thanks for reading! Idk if many ppl will read it because Earis is usually gender-neutral, and he’s male in this story, but whatever y’all wanna imagine hehe

I FOUND THIS SO FUNNY LMAOOOO 😭💀

OUUU HE LOOKS SO GOODDDDDDDD 😻

Guess who I’m working onnnn ~

HINATA SO PRETTYYY 💞

Edited by naruhinacyber on twitter/x

Naruto by kishimoto

Hinata by @ilopoqq on twitter/x

HINATA MY LOVEEEEE 💞

Look at this new official art 👀

they’re the cutest your honor 🗣️

Public Eye

Zaros Atha'lin x Reader

You humiliate Zaros in front of a crowd.

Warnings: social anxiety, panic attacks

Zaros grew up with the knowledge that practically everybody and their dog hated him. His family was unpopular, he understood that, and despite every effort he made to make an ally of the rest of the Serulan population, somehow his unpopularity with the nobles always made him out to be the villain. 

He liked to think he was quite good at hiding how much it affected him. His mother used to tell him that he should not care about other people’s opinions and that he needed only his sense of what was right to lead him on the way of his life — but that did not mean that their words did not sting. 

You grew up in the spotlight. Your mother’s politics painted you in a favorable light to everyone — because criticism of her would be criticism of you, and truthfully she was rather well received. You could part a crowd effortlessly, getting people to avert their eyes and whisper words of awe. You never learned to care for the harsh whispers of strangers because you already had everything you wanted in life. 

You were at the top, looking down on all the common folks whose only way of feeling a part of your grandeur was by talking about you — and you never passed up a chance to remind Zaros of that. 

When you walked through the streets of Serula together, which was not an unusual occurrence now that you were preparing for the trials, he was keenly aware of the awe-struck glances you received from everyone — including the people who your mother seemingly forgot in her politics for the upper classes, including the people who he so desperately wanted to make heard — and the looks of contempt thrown his way. 

“Is that Sarl Zaros?” he heard someone whisper. “He’d do better to crawl back into whichever slump he came from. Nobody wants him and Nira here!”

The venom with which the stranger spat his mother’s name made his fists clench, but he would not have survived as long in the public’s constant sneers and insults if he had been half as hot-headed as you. Zaros took a deep breath, keeping his gaze straight ahead, and continued walking. He was too caught up in the simmering rage this injustice invoked in him to notice your triumphant grin.

You had won the public’s favor long before his mother entertained the idea of contesting the throne. 

What you did not know, and what he had tried to keep from his mother for years, was that Zaros performed utterly horrific before a crowd. The people gathered around him made his heart thunder, their disdainful glances made him want to shrink into himself and hide from the harsh judgment he knew they were casting upon him. Zaros hated crowds. He hated social interactions with people who saw him as an evil threat. 

It was only his luck that you loved to get under his skin. 

“Sarl Zaros, how convenient seeing you right now,” you greeted, fake cheer coloring your tone. The two nobles you were conversing with in the courtyard turned around to look at him, their eyes on him enough to make Zaros tense. “Why don’t you join us? We were talking about your political ideas.”

He cleared his throat, his mind racing for an excuse. “How kind of you, Earis,” he said, holding your gaze for only a moment before letting his eyes wander to the bush of roses next to you instead. “My mother is expecting me, however. Perhaps another time.”

One of the nobles snickered. “Like mother like son,” they said. Zaros vaguely recognized them as belonging to the Ponvillus family. He bit his tongue, the sneer causing anger to overshadow his anxieties. 

“Pray tell, what is that supposed to mean?” he asked, holding the noble’s gaze. 

“He talks,” you said, nudging the other noble’s shoulder. She only laughed, as if remembering a private joke between you. “Watch out. Once he starts, he won’t shut up.”

“I don’t think this conversation is fruitful at all,” Zaros said, giving you a bitter glare. “If you want to insult me, please go ahead. There is no need for me to join your circle of conversation, however. You’ve never had a problem talking ill of me behind my back, why would you need to say it to my face now?”

“How sensitive, Zaros,” you said, stepping closer to him until you were face to face. You clasped your hands behind your back, standing before him as if inspecting a very particular flower.

He did not like the triumphant smile on your face. He did not like the two nobles behind you, watching your every move, waiting for the right moment to chime in with laughter and insults directed at him. 

You always commanded a crowd so effortlessly. He was envious of your talent. It seemed like a natural byproduct of your upbringing, and his terror a natural side effect of his. 

“Sensitive?” he asked, keeping his gaze fixed on you. 

He could debate with you. He could argue with you — only you. It was so much easier to get under your skin when you two were alone — when there was no biased audience to tear him down without listening to a word he said. At least you never disregarded him, no matter how much his words annoyed you or made your blood boil — you always listened.

“Sensitive like the— the time I found you crying over your brother’s grave?” 

Your face fell. 

Perhaps that had been too much. 

The thick silence made Zaro’s breath hitch. His palms were sweaty. He felt his heartbeat picking up. This conversation had taken a horrible turn. The noble’s faces were frozen in an expression of shock and disgust. How was he supposed to rule over a kingdom if he could not even hold a discussion without crossing a line?

You clicked your tongue. “How eloquent, Zaros,” you said, a chilling coldness in your eyes that turned his mouth dry. “I find it interesting how you spit the most hurtful things in private, but you always trip over your words whenever we’re not alone. I wonder why that is?” 

He swallowed thickly, giving you a warning look. When had you caught up on this? How closely had you observed him?

“I’ll tell you why that is,” you continued, making his heart seize painfully. 

He did not dare raise his gaze to look at the nobles behind you, no doubt listening attentively to gather more fuel for the venomous image they had of him. 

“I think you know exactly how much everybody hates you. It eats away at you, knowing they will never listen to you, no matter how brilliant you think your ideas may be. They won’t care, because they can’t stand you. They look at you and see nothing but a waste of space. They wait with bated breath to find fault in everything you do. They are observing you, not because they care, but to remind themselves of why it is that they hate you so much. You are nothing!” you spat, “and if you think you will ever keep yourself on the throne, take a walk around the city and remember how much the people you want to help actually despise you!”

Zaros was frozen, looking at you with wide eyes. His breath caught in his throat, and he felt the blood drain from his face. 

You were right, that’s what hurt so much. He knew you were right. 

Your words would have made him pause at any time. Now that you delivered them in front of an audience — and their taunting laughs registered only now that he thought of them, hearing their mocking chuckles as if from underwater — he could not help feeling utterly destroyed by them. 

He was helpless, caught like a deer in headlights. Not a single thought came to his mind in retort, he would not even find the breath to reply if he tried. 

The laughs were drowned out by the rushing of blood in his ears. He felt sick, nausea churning in his stomach at the public humiliation you had put him through — at the truth you had said aloud. He took a step back, his eyes darting across the courtyard numbly. He felt ready to collapse any minute. 

He was unsteady, the feeling of frozen shock steadily bleeding into the panic he knew so well. His mind began screaming at him to run, run, run— get away, find a private spot before he fell apart in front of the pitiless eyes of the public. 

Zaros turned away from you. He could not breathe, he could not think. There was a sinking feeling in his chest that made him hover on the line between numb shock and panic. He was holding himself together with every last shred of his iron will, but with every step that led him towards the library, he felt his throat burn more and more. His chest felt tight, and when the heavy door shut behind him — blocking out the laughs and taunts that rang in his mind regardless — he felt the scale finally tip, and he collapsed to the ground with a breathless wheeze. 

He was dying, you had finally done it. He could not breathe, and no matter how tightly he gripped the books to ground him, he could not get your words out of his head. They tore him apart over and over again, the knowledge that you had said them for all the world to hear made him want to dissolve into dust. 

He banged his head against the shelf behind him. The hurt did not even register in his panic. His cheeks were wet with tears, but Zaros did not feel them falling from his eyes. His blurry vision made him panic more. He could not see. The world around him did not feel real anymore. He was slipping through the cracks of this reality, slowly bleeding into the ground beneath him until there would be nothing left of him at all. 

At least that way he did not need to face anyone ever again. At least that way he never had to endure their taunts and disgust and hatred ever again.

A loud bang echoed through the library, making him gasp. Gods, he did not want anyone to see him. What would it matter if he was going to die anyway? 

“Zaros?” 

The thought of feeling anyone’s eyes on him made his stomach drop, a sickness running to his very core and making him retch. 

“Zaros!”

The voice sounded familiar. Through his blurry vision, he saw your approaching form. Zaros squeezed his eyes shut. He should have locked the door. Out of all the people, why did it need to be you?

“Come— come to— glo—gloate?” he stuttered breathlessly, biting out the words with as much venom he could muster. 

Why could you not leave him alone? What more did you want? Had you not humiliated him sufficiently? Did you need to twist the knife in an already fatal wound? He had never thought you to be cruel, perhaps he did not know you at all.

You dropped to your knees before him, reaching out a hand to touch his shoulder. Zaros flinched back, the touch burning and making him want to crawl out of his skin. 

“Breathe,” you said calmly, retreating your hand. 

He wanted to laugh at the absurdity. If he were not currently drowning in his panic, he would have shot you a glare so dark it would have haunted your nightmares. 

Breathe, you said. What did you think he was trying to do? Where were the other nobles? Were they lingering in the doorway, mocking him quietly? Did you follow him here to gather more ammunition to use against him later? 

‘Sarl Zaros?’ you would say with a mocking smirk, giving him a dark glance, ‘He can’t rule a kingdom, he can’t even face a crowd! Zaros? Do you mean the pathetic mess I found hyperventilating in the library? He would break in a single council meeting!’

“We’re alone,” you said, shifting to sit next to him instead. You did not try to reach out again. “I took the different entrance, they don’t know I’m here. Can you try to take a deep breath?”

He shook his head, drawing his knees up to his chest. He buried his hands in his hair, tugging at the blonde strands. This was all too much. He was slipping, freefalling into nothingness. “Can’t— can’t—” he panted. He could not calm down enough to breathe the air he so desperately craved.

“You know,” you began, keeping your voice calm, “back when I was younger, I thought the palace was haunted. There was a time when I did not dare to walk the halls at night, because I was afraid that the spirit of my brother would appear before me, and somehow blame me for being dead. I know it had nothing to do with me, but it always felt wrong to be alive when he wasn’t. Even now, I feel I am trying to take what is rightfully his. I used to attribute every little thing to his presence, the rustling of the curtains at night when there was no wind, the weird scratching I heard on my door at night, and the steady footsteps on the stone floor of the halls. 

“It was ridiculous, of course,” you said with a shrug, “but I always thought he was there. One day, when I could no longer take it, I went to his grave. I told him to leave me alone, that I was sorry he was dead but that I could do nothing to bring him back and that the injustice he felt was justified, but that I was innocent of fate’s doing. 

“My mother heard me, and she sat me down and told me that it was not him being envious of my life, but rather watching over me, making his presence known despite no longer being amongst us. I found the sentiment hard to understand at first, but then I thought of it less as a haunting, it was him checking in on me from time to time. It was just an unusual way of doing so.”

You glanced at Zaros. His breathing was still elevated, but it had evened out considerably. Your distraction had worked. 

“I’m sorry about what I said,” he told you, leaning his head against the bookshelf and closing his eyes, taking a deep breath. “I— I don’t know why I said it. I suppose I was panicking. I wanted to lash out before you did. I know how much he means to you.”

“I know,” you said, catching his gaze and giving him a comforting smile. “I’m sorry as well. I was not anticipating this. I knew you struggled with publicity, but I never thought it was this extreme.”

Zaros hummed, closing his eyes. He was exhausted. The sun had already set, and the library was only illuminated by the glowing torchlight streaming through the large windows. 

“Can you make it to your chambers by yourself, or would you like my help?” you asked, giving his shoulder a gentle nudge to keep him awake. “You know I don’t mind.”

“Fine,” he replied, begrudgingly blinking his eyes open again, “and thank you.”