#now i want a new princess diaries au | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

luveline · 1 year

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𝐚 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬 | 𝐣𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐩𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫

one | two

Finding out you're a princess isn't half as intimidating as suddenly acquiring a full-time bodyguard. Especially when that bodyguard is disarmingly handsome, charming, and can't seem to stop flirting with you.

bodyguard!james, fem!reader, shy!reader, princess diaries au (sort of), all characters in their 20s or older, star-crossed lovers/ forbidden romance james isn't flirty this chapter i lied but he will be <3

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

Sirius Black smells like winter. The deep and fruity fragrance of cranberries, pomegranate, maybe cinnamon. You aren't certain, and if he weren't currently an inch from your face, you'd ask him what it is.

"You poor thing," he murmurs, dabbing very, very gently against the bruised skin of your cheek.

"It's not–" You hiss at sudden pressure. He immediately recedes. "It's not so bad."

"I've half a mind to rag him around and take up the mantle myself."

"I'd love to see that," Remus says.

"I'd look good in the uniform, right?"

James doesn't look happy at their joking but he's been nothing less than a grovelling puppy since last night, and he breaks his silence to say, "You don't have to wear any make-up if it's going to hurt."

"Uh, yes she does. Imagine the headlines otherwise: Lost Princess Bruised Under the Imbecilic Watch of New Bodyguard," Sirius announces, sharing a not-so-private smile with Remus across the coffee table.

"It doesn't hurt," you say to James.

You're lying. Being smacked in the face with a door isn't just embarrassing, it really fucking hurts. James' biceps aren't for show, that's for sure. He'd swung open the door and you, having tripped seconds beforehand over the cord of your lamp, had been at the perfect height for it to bounce off the highest point of your cheek.

"Princess," he says now, as he'd said last night, "I'm so sorry."

You think of his hands under your arms pulling you up into a standing position, and the way he'd tilted your head back. The barking order he'd given Frank to grab something to use as an ice pack, and the warmth of the pad of his thumb as it stroked the soft line of your jaw.

"It was a freak accident." You smile, careful not to push up your cheeks lest you invite another round of shooting pains. "Please don't feel bad. It's my fault for being up in the first place, I– I couldn't sleep."

"If you want anything for it, let me know," Remus says.

"He's got, like, his own personal pain pharmacy," Sirius says. "You should take him up on it. I beg him everytime we fly for some of the strong stuff and he always says no, this is a once in a lifetime opportunity."

"Let's not start on the co-codamols," James says.

"I have ibuprofen," Remus placates.

"I don't need anything, I promise."

Some ibuprofen would be awesome but you really don't want James to feel guilty. You want to forget it even happened, embarrassed by both your idiocy and your tears.

Getting hit in the face by a metal door handle hurts. Your reaction had been justified, but crying all over your handsome bodyguards nice hands hadn't been something you'd pictured doing. Not 12 hours after meeting him.

"You want me to do your lips?" Sirius asks.

"How do you mean?"

Sirius pulls a metal palette of lip colours out of his small make up bag and shows them to you. He circles two with a disposable brush. "These would suit you. I wasn't sure about your complexion. Now I know, I'll get you more options when we're back in Genovia."

"Oh, um…" You shake your head at him apologetically. "I don't know. You should do what you think is best."

He puts the palette away. "You don't need anything you're unsure of. You don't need any makeup at all, my love, it only enhances what's already there."

"Ten minutes," James says. "Princess, are you sure this is everything you want to take?"

He taps your suitcase with the side of his shoe. You nod.

"You can bring whatever you want. All of your things, if you like." He gestures to your bedroom. "Though we can get you anything you need, and we will, you're welcome to pack everything."

"In a day, you'll know I'm not your princess. Less stuff to carry," you say.

"You're so sure," Remus says.

He speaks quietly but not timidly, laid back in your chair with an air of relaxation you wish you could master. He has a small mass market paperback tucked into one pocket of his jacket, the yellowed pages peeking over the hem, and his hand stuffed into the other. His pose doesn't speak of any arrogance. He looks happy to be here, and it puts you at ease.

"Do I look like a princess?" you ask. You don't mean to put anyone on the spot —you aren't fishing for compliments— so you steamroll your own question. "I just find it strange. Surely I'd know. I would've known before, I mean."

"Like a princess beacon?" Sirius asks.

"No, but… I don't know. I think I'd feel it."

Remus straightens a touch, grinning. "You look like him. The Prince. You have the same nose."

Remus stands up before you can ask him to explain. James offers to take his bag and he shrugs away from his big hand with an annoyed huff.

To your surprise, James only smiles, cooing after him, "You know you love me, Moons."

"Well," Sirius says, zipping his bag closed and clasping his hands on top of it. "You can always have your things sent for once we're home."

Home for them.

Truthfully, deep down, you want to be a princess. Something in you is singing, is ringing, a string plucked, a tuner reverberating. Finally, something is happening. Your life could be more than mistakes.

You're not used to having people around and this entire process has been hard. Getting hit in the face had sucked. But, to have company? This single hour has been one of the best you've had in a really long time. Sirius is sweeter than you'd thought, sarcastic but kind-handed, and Remus' dry humour has caught you off guard enough to laugh aloud multiple times. Even James' grovelling niceties have been shamefully enjoyable. You can't remember the last time you had someone around who wanted to comfort you.

And that's exactly why you're afraid to admit what seems true. You can't be the Princess, because if you are, you get to have this for a little while longer, and that would be too good to be true.

Much, much too good.

"Alright, let's go. Sirius, you have the keys?"

Sirius swings his bag into James’ arms. “Am I driving?”

“What a stupid question.”

Another member of James’ security team meets you at your front door to help carry the bags downstairs and into the back of the SUV. James won’t allow you to help and getting inside while they’re still packing the boot feels spoiled, so you stand at the corner and feel too many eyes on you. James stands beside you, one hand hovering behind your shoulders to shield you, ridiculously, from the hedge behind, the other held aloft in level with his mouth, fingers curled around a small radio you’ve seen clipped to his shoulder. He’s enunciating clear, short instructions. He doesn’t sound as severe as you’d pictured someone in his occupation would sound.

“What’s traffic like?” he asks. The answer buzzes down the line, inaudible to you but obviously understood by James. “Alright, brilliant. We should be on schedule, then. Is the third team on call?”

You can make the next answer out. “Yep, they’re waiting. You want them at the front?”

“Please. I want everyone we have, ideally.”

“Isn’t that overkill?” Sirius shouts from the passenger seat of the car, bent over the handbrake to be heard. “All three teams? That’s twelve men. None of my sources hint at any leaks.”

“I’m being over cautious.” James smiles at you, so suddenly you smile back on instinct. “Security on call get paid either way. Might as well make them work for it.”

He ushers you into the back seat, a cushy leather bench fit for three people. It’s rented, but Sirius is quick to pop a section behind his chair for you to show you the drinks fridge.

“Oh,” you breathe, legs lit and cooled by the light and the chilled air, “cool.”

“You’ll want to drink one before James assesses that they’re poisoned.”

You wince back. “Are they poisoned?”

“Probably not, my love.”

Sirius is a mixture of flirtatious and genuine that you can’t wrap your head around. He’s awfully handsome, too, which makes it worse: he’s tanned, his curls shine, and he has the most perfect Roman nose you’ve ever seen. He’s almost as handsome as James.

“Let me be very clear,” he says gently, turned in his seat to face you, “I’m not an intelligence agent. I don’t know nearly as much as darling Jamie about security, but I have a lot of friends in high places and, as far as I’m aware, nobody outside of the British or Genovian government knows what we’re doing here. And nobody has reason to hurt you just yet.” He grins. “It’s James’ job to be paranoid, but that’s all it is.”

You waver, and his cheerful smile fades.

He lowers his voice, tone sympathetic. “I can always try one first if you’re worried.”

The driver’s door opens and James climbs in. “Try what?” he asks. He moves through a routine quickly of safety checks like a learning driver would. He rolls up the open window and turns in his seat, gaze flitting between you and Sirius suspiciously. “Everything okay?”

“I think the Princess is a little anxious about leaving the country,” Sirius says.

“Yeah?” James asks, eyes back to the windshield. He turns the key, and the car warms to life with a low roar.

“A little.” You nudge the fridge closed with your foot.

“What was that?” James asks. “Is that a fridge? Do me a favour, don’t drink any of that. I'll get you whatever you want at the airport.”

“She can’t have a bottle of water from the fancy jeep but airport drinks are fine?” Sirius laughs.

“Spike one fridge’s worth or the entire supply chain?” James asks.

“What if this assassin is inefficient?”

“Assassin?” you ask.

James glares at Sirius. "There are no assassins, Princess. He's being ridiculous." He looks to you with a smile. "You have everything?"

Your expression, a sickly grimace, has him giving pause. All fake smiles and dramatics fall away, and in its place is the genuineness you'd been met with last night.

"Hypothetically," he says, "there are assassins. In reality, there absolutely are not. You're not in any danger, alright? Sirius is the master of badly timed jokes."

"Okay," you say meekly.

James nods and you buckle in, sitting back in the comfiest car seat you've ever sat in and turning your face to the window. You look up at your flat building, and as the car starts to move, it shrinks. You drive further and further away, until you turn a corner, and your life is out of view.

—

James is worried about you. As an acquaintance, he's starting to think you're a worrying person. There isn't a whole lot of spark behind your eyes — you rival Remus for number of tired smiles.

He wonders why you hadn't packed any of your art supplies. Your room is teeming with them. Even if you're correct and you aren't the Genovian princess after all, there's still a day or more before they can actually confirm that, and factoring in travel time, you won't be home for at least a week. A week without your sketchbooks and paints and pencils.

As your bodyguard, as a bodyguard, James has always taken concern in his charge's overall health, mental and physical. You don't seem ill, but you do seem unhappy.

"Are you afraid of flying?" he asks, hoping that will explain your distance.

He stands less than half a foot from you. He'll allow you some more space just as soon as you're not in an airport.

"I'm not sure," you say.

Another peculiarity, you're a pathological liar.

Okay, that's unfair. You aren't pathological — James is an excellent judge of character, as his job requires, and he's gotten good at profiling a person's motivations. Your motivation is to become the smallest version of yourself that you can be. Any possible imposition is set aside, such as your refusal of painkillers when your cheek can't not hurt. You refuse to inconvenience others.

"Is there something I can do? To help you feel better?"

You smile awkwardly. "Is that your job?" you ask, voice lilting upward with self-consciousness.

"Kind of. You know, as soon as your paternity test is recognised, you could ask for just about anything. An assistant, as many assistants and attendants as you want. Your security will most certainly increase, especially when the Palace makes a statement."

He notes your widening eyes and backtracks. "It's not really my job, but I wouldn't mind. If you think of anything, let me know."

You hide your hands in the pockets of your hoodie. You're dressed as he advised, comfortably and nondescript.

"Do you need anything from me?" you ask.

He hides his surprise, eyes doing another lap of the semi-private waiting room he's ushered you into. He takes in business men, officials, and diplomats for the tenth time in half an hour.

"I don't need anything from you, Princess. Thank you."

"I don't want to make your job any harder than it is."

"You haven't."

"That's not true," you murmur, bruised cheek toward the floor and away from view.

"That was my fault," James says. "Not yours."

He can feel the heat of your tears running down his index finger.

"That was my mistake," he reaffirms.

You don't answer, but James knows it isn't an agreeable silence. Which is fine, he isn't trying to dominate your opinion, would never assume he had the right to police what you're feeling. He wants to reassure you more than he strictly should.

This might be harder than I thought, he thinks.

"The flight is near enough three hours. You're sure you don't want anything to take with you? If you're worried about dietary restrictions, there's a salad bar in the Mastercard lounge. I'm sure we can get someone to make you something up."

"I'm fine… Will you be hungry?"

He laughs. "You really don't understand the employee employer dynamic, do you?" he asks, not unkindly. "You don't have to worry about me."

He says it sweetly, careful to ensure you understand. He isn't telling you off. He's teasing you.

He knows he's done a good job when you lift your head.

"I don't think you can talk about employee employer dynamics," you say, eyes flitting downward to your cheek's bruise.

He chuckles, eyebrows jumping up. "Oh, nice! That was a quick one. We'll make a Genovian of you yet, they're all sarcastic."

"They? You aren't Genovian?"

"Do I look Genovian?" he asks, gesturing to his face. You splutter. "I'm messing with you. No, I'm not originally from Genovia, but my heart is hers."

"You've always lived there?"

"Since I was two."

Your expression dims. It takes James a second to connect the dots.

"There are plenty of people living in Genovia who aren't native. Remus is Welsh, can you tell? His accent hasn't quite survived it."

"You've met before? You all seem familiar."

"We went to the same boarding school. Well, we actually shared a room. We-" He feels heat crest at his unprofessional phrasing. "We're best mates."

"And you all get to be together," you say softly.

"Yeah, we do. We're lucky. Before this, Remus was working as a royal tutor for the young elites, and Sirius was trying to micromanage Julianna. That's your cousin."

"The Princess' cousin," you correct.

"You brought us back together," he says. "You'll have to forgive me for hoping you are who they say you are."

"Lily never really explained, how I- I mean, why they think it's me."

"Well," he says, stepping closer to you still, and lowering his voice, "my assumption is that, because the Prince's passing was a freak accident, they hadn't really planned for any other successors yet."

"Well, what were they going to do? He'd pass on eventually."

"I believe there were hopes he'd marry a Duchess."

"And have a legitimate child."

"Yes. You are, to the majority, a secret. The Prince would have been seventeen at the time of your conception, which is a royal scandal if I've ever heard one."

"Seventeen?" you ask.

"Lily didn't tell you any of this?"

"Honestly, uh, she might have. I wasn't-" You clear your throat mildly. "Wasn't really listening? I had a pretty bad migraine at the time, and I was tired, you know?"

"You were overwhelmed at finding out you're apprincess."

"That I might be a princess."

"Sure. When they told me I might be Prince of Italy, I had the same reaction."

You wrinkle your nose at him, the most forceful thing you've done in his presence. He laughs a storm, only tamping it down when he remembers he's a professional.

Soon, the boys return from their airport traipsing. Remus makes a quiet comment on James' happy smile, and he pretends to zip his lips closed when they both spot Sirius' curious glances. James moves your entourage to a small aircraft, not private but almost, and you board into first class seats, two per each side of the aisle and partitioned by a sheet of frosted plexi-glass.

You and James sit together.

He doesn't subject you to conversation. He's technically working, and so while he relaxes into his seat and stretches out his tired legs, he doesn't cut vigilance.

You look around in awe for some time. Eyes widened just slightly, lips parted, you sit up and sneak glances at everything you can. James knocks on the partition gently.

"You want the fan? The heater?"

"The fan," you say, and he supposes you do look a bit warm at the collar. "Please."

He doesn't bother saying of course, or no worries, or no problem. He's a problem solver. If you're going to be under his watch, he's going to make it as easy on you as he can. That means letting you be thankful without shrugging it off.

Your eyes close quickly. Your eyelashes flutter imperceptibly in the overhead fans slow breeze, and your lips part as you fall into sleep. Last night's disruption had been hard on you no doubt. He stands quietly and eases sideways down the aisle to check on Remus and Sirius inconspicuously.

"Anything for me to read?" he asks Remus.

Remus knows exactly what James is up to. If he appreciates or abhors the extra attention is anyone's guess, until he digs through the bag at his feet and pulls out one of his Russian philosophy novels with a smirk. "This or the newspaper."

James takes the worn paperback with a wry look of defeat and reaches over and across to Sirius head of curls, tugging one cruelly.

Sirius looks up, but is only irritable when he notices that it had been James, and not his seatmate.

"What?" Sirius demands.

"Do you need anything?"

"No. Quit mothering. And maybe get some rest?"

"I can't."

"You most certainly can. Swap out with Frank, or Mickey or someone."

James swaps out with Mickey. Mickelson, please keep an eye on the entryway. Yes boss. He returns, finding you aren't as asleep as he'd thought. You look at him through lashes. You've gone soft, in little regard for your appearance, and he's glad for it. Watching you is like watching a spring stretched tall, and now you've finally snapped into yourself and deflated.

"You alright?" he murmurs.

You nod, and he sits, and when he doesn't get up you fall asleep again, like you'd been waiting for him to get back. You sleep for hours, through turbulence, Sirius' roaring laughter, Remus' answering chuckles, and the flight attendant who scolds them. James wishes he could do the same, reading a mind-numbing forty pages of Russian literature densely translated and sipping on a glass of coke, the ache of an oncoming pressure headache pinching behind his eyes.

The hubbub doesn't wake you. The plane lands, you sleep on.

James whispers your name, quiet, speaking louder when you fail to rouse. Finally, he gives in and squeezes your shoulder. Heat radiates through the thick fabric of your hoodie. You hair is frizzy where it's rubbed against the seat behind you.

You wake with a raspy cough. "James?"

"We're here, Princess, in Genovia."

"That was," —you yawn, turning to hide your face so he can't see— "fast."

You look like you might fall asleep again. His heart does this awful little flip. He ignores it.

"It was hours. You've slept the whole time– A good thing, huh?" He bends down until you're face to face, an amicable gap between you as he squints at your bruise. He's close enough to share your breath. "Bruise is getting worse. Remus will give you painkillers, and I'm gonna get you an ice pack as soon as we're off the plane."

He squeezes your shoulder again. "Up. Come on."

You nod and rub your eyes, stretching in your seat. He averts his gaze and stands as tall as he can, shoulders hunched to avoid clipping his head. Remus has made no efforts to move yet and Sirius is in the aisle, pulling their bags into his arms.

"Are you alright, Moony?" James asks.

Remus has gone ashen.

"He has a migraine."

"Can you see okay?" James asks.

Remus gets blurry, occluded vision when he gets these sudden migraines. He winces, hand over his eyes, and says, "Not really. Can I have your sunglasses?"

"Yeah," James says, holding in the, of course you can, I'd genuinely die for you, that he wants to add.

He slides his rucksack off of his shoulder and takes his sunglasses from the front pocket. He taps them into Remus' hand.

"You'll have to touch up the Princess' bruise for me," Sirius says.

James coughs. "What?"

"It's easy–"

"I'll take Remus," James says.

"You can both go do your jobs, I'll be fine," Remus mutters, flinching at an invisible, biting pain.

"No," they both deny.

Remus doubles over.

"All you have to do is stipple it," Sirius whispers fervently.

"Sirius, I don't know what stippling is."

"Dots of makeup. She knows what shade we chose. Here, take my bag. There's a clean brush."

Sirius smiles at James. Remus hasn't always let them take care of him. His disabilities have often made him the subject of disdain, pity, and misguided attention he has never, ever wanted, and he'd mistaken their friendship for lots of things at first. Nowadays, he accepts the help that he needs, help that his friend's are happy to give, and disregards their smothering overkill otherwise. That being said, Remus has always found it easier to accept help from Sirius than James. They all know it and none of them bother saying why that is aloud.

Flying nearly but not quite privately means they can get off the plane whenever they're ready (within reason), and so James ushers you back into your seat where you'd been standing tentatively in the aisle and presents the little make up bag. He kneels in front of you.

"I'll get the painkillers," he says, remembering his earlier promise, "Sirius is preoccupied, so. You're stuck with me on touch ups."

"Is it bad?"

"No. Does it feel bad?"

Your slow response is telling. "No," you lie, "it's not that bad." You point at one of the colours through the clear case. "I think it was that one."

"Thank you," he says, murmurs, opening the case. There's a brush tucked inside, and he picks it up clumsily.

"Does he have a mirror?" you ask. "I can do it myself, if you want."

"If he does, he didn't give it to me. I promise not to mess you up too badly, Princess."

James presses the brush into your chosen colour and pats. The concealer is harder than he'd thought it would be, tough under the brush. It all looks silly in his hands.

"Lean your head back for me," he says softly.

You tip your chin up. Your eyes close as he begins.

He's too careful. The colour doesn't want to transfer. "Sorry," he murmurs, applying pressure. You wince but say nothing to stop him. "Tell me if it hurts too much."

"It's only a bruise."

"You're allowed to be hurt. And you should be more angry with me."

"It was an accident."

"It was my mistake." He watches the bruise disappear under concealer, but the colour doesn't quite match your skin. He tries his best to blend out the edges. "A professional mistake, which means you're more than allowed to be annoyed."

"I'm starting to think you want me to be mad," you say. You're trying not to move, and so each word is half a whisper.

"I do. I want you to be furious. It's ten times harder to keep someone safe when they have no self-preservation."

He gives up on the brush and uses his pinky, his cleanest finger, to smudge out the blocky colour he's left behind. Your skin is scorching under his touch.

"So if I'm angry with you, that makes your job easier?"

He hums. "Mh-hmm. Much easier."

You hold your breath as he finishes up, a gentle patting motion as he was instructed.

"How some girls do this every day," he mutters.

"It gets easier."

"Yeah?" He drags his pinky down your cheek without thinking. "Hopefully this is my last time. It looks fine. Maybe don't stop in direct sunlight."

He collects all of his things and pulls the makeup bag into his chest, easing his way out into the aisle again. You follow. Everyone else has left, except for a pearly-smiled flight attendant, who's smile grows impossibly wider as they approach.

"Everything okay today folks?" he asks. "How was your flight?"

James offers thank-yous and guides you down the length of the plane to the exit. You're quiet from the plane to the steps, his hand ghosting your shoulder, to the tarmac, where your security entourage awaits. Including James there are eight bodyguards. Two stick close, five form a mock perimeter around you.

"Unfortunately, you might draw attention from the protection detail alone. It's up to you, Princess, but I can hide your face."

"Is that… dramatic?"

"It's completely up to you. I don't think it's dramatic. Just depends on how comfortable you are with your face potentially being used somewhere."

"Can I– Maybe I'll stay close," you say, pulling your hood up.

"Yeah. Tell me if you're uncomfortable."

He takes you by the elbow and you walk. There aren't any paparazzi waiting outside, and James thinks maybe the news of your arrival has escaped them, and you won't be exposed to the madness that is paps with a story like this one, until he sees Sirius and Remus waiting at the glass doors into the airport.

"Can't we go around?" Sirius asks.

"They have to check our passports, idiot," Remus says, with little malice.

"You can fucking see them, mate," he says to James.

James motions for you to stand where you are and crosses the gap to get a better look. Mickey takes his place by your side.

"Fuck," he hisses, "what the fuck is that? Who fucking leaked?"

"Should I be worried?" he hears you ask quietly.

"Mickelson, give the Princess your sunglasses."

"So yes, then," you say.

James props open the door with his foot. "Princess, you're going first. They'll expect you in the middle. Hopefully that'll minimise what they can get." He holds out his arm.

You slot perfectly underneath it.

"Ready?" he asks.

You don't look very ready. You nibble your lip and nod anyhow, tucking your face into his front. James walks you forward, into a storm of white flashes and shouting, the precipice of your new life.

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

thank you so much for reading! I really hope you enjoyed this chapter <3 please consider reblogging if you did, I'd love to know what you thought and what you want to see in the next one! and a happy new year !!!!

#james potter fic #james potter #marauders era #marauders #james potter x reader #james potter x y/n #james potter x you #james potter fluff #james potter blurb #james potter drabble #james potter imagine #james potter fanfic #james potter fanfiction #the marauders

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holdmytesseract · 2 years

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moodboard by the wonderful @mochie85 !

Baby Fever AU 《Masterlist》

The Baby Fever AU is set some time after the attack on New York. Infinity War, End Game and Thanos never happened. Loki's punishment had been to join the Avengers - where he met you. One thing came to the other and a few years later, you two are married - and now parents of a sweet girl, called Ella and a little boy called Narfi. This AU features the adventures you are expieriencing as a family - and a lot of dad!Loki moments, 'cause we all love Loki being a dad...

General Warnings: fluff, fluff and even more fluff! Pregnancy things, birth, etc.

Last Updated: May 9th, 2024

《 Baby Fever - the Beginning 》

(How Loki's baby fever started...)

🍼 Part One

🍼 Part Two

🍼 Part Three

《 Before Ella... 》

(The oneshots here are from the time before Ella is born. Y/N's and Loki's story...)

🍼 The Beginning

🍼 You & Me Forever

🍼 Paper Rings

🍼 On one of Tony's team bonding parties...

🍼 About Time

🍼 When a God Loves a Woman

🍼 Hunter & Prey

《 The Dad Loki Diary - Chapter One 》

(What's the 'Dad Loki Diary'? The 'Dad Loki Diary' consists of drabbles and one shots of, well… Loki being Ella's dad and doing dad things. Things that come to my mind - or things that you want to read. If you have a wish what the little family should experience together, look if the requests for this AU are open and let me know! :D)

Headcanons

🍼 Disney Edition

Oneshots

🍼 Of Fathers and Sons

🍼 Daddy Takeover

🍼 Protecting Her

🍼 Father Feelings

🍼 A Precious Moment

🍼 How to Magic

🍼 A Painful Experience

🍼 First Steps

🍼 Insecurities

🍼 First Word

🍼 Not Your Little Girl Anymore

🍼 All I Need Is You

🍼 Asgardian Sightseeing Tours

🍼 Winter Wonders

🍼 A little Girl`s Wish

🍼 Merry Christmas!

🍼 A Fresh Page

🍼 Of the Birds and the Bees

🍼 Female Nature

🍼 Tempting Touch (18+)

🍼 Autumn Blues

🍼 Little Mood Changer

🍼 Capturing the Moment

🍼 Cravings & Food Rubs

Drabbles

🍼 Ella

🍼 Lullaby

🍼 He's Back - Part Two (Part One is written by @lokisgoodgirl )

🍼 Close to You

🍼 Sugar Sweet

🍼 About Scrunchies and Hair Clips

Blurbs

🍼 Ella, sitting on Loki's chest, raven locks in her tiny hands...

🍼 Loki and Y/N, sitting opposite their dining table, looking each other deadly in the eyes...

🍼 Five-year-old Ella is sitting with Loki at the small table in her room, colouring in her princesses colouring book..

🍼 Loki, laying in the bathtub with a glass of wine in hands, living his best life...

🍼 Loki, standing in the kitchen in order to prepare a little something for you to eat...

🍼 Loki, changing the nappy of a happily gurgling Ella...

🍼 The Promo Tour

《 The Dad Loki Diary - Chapter Two 》

(Well... Welcome to Chapter Two of the 'Dad Loki Diary'. :D Our favourite God is now a dad of two. <3 A new chapter in life has started for him, so I thought it's time to start a new chapter here as well! :D)

Oneshots

🧸 Narfi

🧸 Princess Meets Prince

🧸 Tummy Talkin'

🧸 The Price of Love

🧸 Royal Visitors

🧸 Bad Dream

🧸 Football Fever

🧸 The Equation of Love

🧸 Gym Sessions & Babies

🧸 Biggest Fear

🧸 Boys Do Cry

🧸 Infinite Love

🧸 A Stroke Of Fate

🧸 Little Prince

Blurbs

🧸 Y/N, tiptoeing towards the bedroom after a long and tiring day of meetings...

🧸 In the royal gardens of Asgard...

🧸 At Thor's and Jane's house; quite a few miles away from the Avengers compound...

🧸 ... and a Happy New Year!

#loki x reader #loki laufeyson x female reader #loki laufeyson x reader #loki x you #loki x y/n #tom hiddleston x reader #tom hiddleston characters

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grapenehifics · 7 months

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20 Question Fic Writer Tag

Hell yeah I'll play. Thanks @palfriendpatine66 :D

How many works do you have on ao3?

AO3 says ten, but one of those is a series continuation of another one, so I count it as nine...although tomorrow that will go up by one, after the reveals for the Ghost Window challenge go out.

2.) What's your ao3 word count?

Oh god. 690,376. I honestly think I was happier not knowing that fact about myself.

3.) What fandoms do you write for?

I don't multitask well. I can write Star Wars fics or I can write Star Wars fics. I haven't even ventured outside the Clone Wars era yet.

4.) What are your top five fics by kudos?

Some Technical Difficulties - big gap - Solsbury Hill - An Uncivil War - medium-sized gap - An Unlikely Duo - another gap-ish - Down by the Seaside.

5.) Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Yep. I like it when authors reply to me when I leave a comment, so I try to pay it forward. Also sometimes we get into fun little side chats.

6.) What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

At the moment, not one single damn one of them. They have angst in them, but none of them end on angst. However as of about twenty-four hours from now, my answer will be, Ghost Window AU.

7.) What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Literally all of them. I'm happy to read angst, but when it comes to writing I am firmly in the happy endings camp.

8.) Do you get hate on fics?

I had some people tell me they were dropping out of Solsbury Hill because it wasn't getting to the Obikin fast enough, but I wouldn't call that hate. So, no.

(Side note, though: you don't have to tell authors that. Just delete your subscription quietly.)

But, I am also very ready to delete any and all negative comments. This is my fun side project; good vibes only.

9.) Do you write smut? If so what kind?

...pretty vanilla kind, honestly. Again, I read much more adventurously than I write. (Although, as recently as two years ago I would have said I don't write smut at all, so hit me up two years from now and maybe I'll be writing hardcore d/s, I don't know.)

10.) Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

By the strict definition, no. If you're talking 'dump Star Wars characters into settings of other movies', then hell yeah, that's kind of my jam right now. Down by the Seaside is Obikin Overboard. Next year I'm planning to publish Obikin Jurassic Park, Obikin Parent Trap, and Obikin Princess Diaries II. And I have a couple more on my to-do list.

11.) Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Is this a thing I need to worry about?? Shit.

12.) Have you ever had a fic translated?

@kittonafoxgirl did a podfic of Some Technical Difficulties and it is still like one of the top five most rad things that has ever happened to me; does that count?

13.) Have you ever cowritten a fic before?

No but @fulcrum843 are currently mulling something over...

I do get a lot of help with my writing though. @piecesofeden11 basically wrote all the DnD stuff in An Unlikely Duo. I talk stuff out on Tumblr with folks all the time before I actually sit down to write it (or during, lol).

14.) What's your all time favorite ship?

I have no plans to write anything other than Obikin, and there's so much new good fic that it takes up most of my reading time as well.

15.) What's a WIP you'd like to finish, but doubt you ever will?

I wouldn't call it a WIP because there are no words on a page but I love the *idea* of a fic based on Jenn Barkley from Parks & Rec but have no idea what direction to take it and may never get to it. (If anyone wants to take this idea and run with it please do; it is very much up for grabs!)

16.) What are your writing strengths?

This is a weird thing to answer about myself but I hope I write with a sense of movement, propulsion, even a little suspense - as a reader I love to feel that I have to turn the page, I have to see what comes next, I don't want to put this fic/book down - and I try to work towards that goal in my own writing.

17.) What are your writing weaknesses?

Getting bogged down in details. It drives me crazy in movies when characters have these huge mansions but seemingly never go to work and somehow this has translated into me being incapable of just writing a smutty one-shot or whatever because what is everyone's job and how much is their mortgage payment and do they get paid on Fridays or Mondays and how many bedrooms does that apartment have.

18.) Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

See answer above about over-complicating things: I came up with this whole system for An Uncivil War for whether I'm writing out the dialogue in a language other than Basic (I feel like we really only have enough information for me to be able to do this in Huttese and Mando'a, and even then only short conversations in certain subjects), or simply noting that a character is saying something in another language ("he said in Ryl" or whatever), or mixing Basic and a word/words in another language within the same sentence. It was important to me to capture that multilingualism, but it's also a lot of work, ngl.

19.) First fandom you wrote for?

Technically Johnlock but I never finished/published anything.

20.) Favorite fic you've ever written?

I love all my babies equally, she lied.

It's the Can't Stop the Suns series, which is An Uncivil War, Pick Up the Pieces (more than halfway completed), and Sometimes Fate Steps In (loosely outlined). Sometimes I'll just look over my notes and get giddy about how much good stuff I'm packing in there and how much *more* good stuff I haven't even gotten to yet. I'm throwing the kitchen sink of stuff I love at it. Even if the final version doesn't quite live up to the vision I see in my head (it rarely does), as long as I get close I'll be happy.

I tag @piecesofeden11, @underacalicosky, @fulcrum843, and, as usual, anyone else who feels up for it!

#obikin #solsbury hill #an uncivil war #an unlikely duo #down by the seaside #pick up the pieces #let's get together

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cryiling · 3 months

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Hi, crow! How are you doing? 😁

for the ship ask game: revalink (hehe), botw/totk zelink, and miphlink (i think that’s the correct ship name??)

(ask game from here)

omg hi iri!!! I'm doing well hru? imyy thank you for the ask 🥺🫶

revalink - ship

what made you ship it?

last february i was going through my zelda phase again and i was looking for fics to read. previously i had read a lot of sidlink fics so I was looking for something new, and I decided to check out revalink fics and. oh em gee. i got hooked 😭

I remember insisting I only liked it ironically but 💀 look where I am now. #1 revalink shipper oopsies 🤭 their dynamic really stood out to me, I've shipped a lot of rivals to lovers before so I guess once I started to consider it revalink just made sense to me. also revalink fics are devastatingly good, like there's a couple that I reread religiously 😫

what are your favorite things about the ship?

omg I LOVE THIS QUESTIONNN. saurr many things like. I mentioned it already but I love their dynamic, especially when you start to analyze it beyond the surface level. I love headcanons about why revali lashes out at link in the first place, especially in relation to the champion's ballad dlc and how revali's diary reveals that he's just really insecure about himself. I think they're such good character foils to each other and that makes their interactions, both as rivals and as lovers, so much richer than some of the other ships in the game. their relationship is so open to interpretation and that makes it one of the most satisfying ships to make content for SHFJDBF

is there an unpopular opinion you have on your ship?

hmm not that I can think of! i post a lot of headcanons and stuff but I don't think they've ever been unpopular, maybe just unique. like my all the president's men au 💀 i still think abt that sometimes LOL

botw/totk zelink - don't ship

why don't you ship it?

aghhh ok ok hear me out. i don't ship them romantically BUT i do think they are peak queerplatonic vibes. it's just, the idea of knight x princess already feels like a weird dynamic to me, like I'm not a huge fan idk? ughh idk how to explain it. to me I've always preferred them to have more of a sibling dynamic. urgh I know I said hear me out but I'm not explaining it well. the voices told me not to ship it idk

what would have made you like it?

ok tbh I think zelink is cute in like every other game! just not these two 😭 so I guess if you put the two characters in literally any other game I would like them? aghhhh idk what it is about this one that makes me not want to ship it!! maybe in this game if they had a different backstory I would have shipped it. but tee bee ache link was so unhappy as a knight that I'm rooting for him to leave the whole royalty system behind and go live in the woods with his bird boyfriend idk 😭

despite not shipping it, do you have anything positive to say about it?

I literally think zelink makes the most sense as a ship, they're soulmates and they would go to the ends of the earth for each other, I'm sorry I feel so bad for not shipping them 😭 BUT on the other hand, I think all that can be true without having to be romantic yk? that's why I think they're a really good queerplatonic couple, they understand each other like no one else could, they always look out for each other and they can't imagine not being in the other's life. it's just not romantic. aughh I think they have such a good relationship but just not romantically 😣 maybe it's bc I'm also aspec

miphlink - don't ship

why don't you ship it?

I feel really bad but like mipha's crush was so clearly one-sided 😭 it's weird bc my absolute favorite trope is childhood friends to lovers, and they check the childhood friends box, but the ship just feels too vanilla/basic to me. I do think they're besties tho, because since they grew up together they'll be super close and know each other very well. but imo link doesn't see her like that and mipha eventually moves on

what would have made you like it?

I think a.) mipha's character should have been fleshed out more because she felt so one-dimensional and it kind of bothered me, her character had so much more potential and I love seeing fanon version of her where she actually has a personality. and b.) if there was a little more pining on both link's and mipha's parts. the best part of childhood friends to lovers is the pining!!

despite not shipping it, do you have anything positive to say about it?

I love mipha and I love link and I think they'll always look out for each other and be besties forever!! the end 😽

#ask game #revalink #zelink #miphlink #botw #totk #breath of the wild #tears of the kingdom #the legend of zelda #tloz #me being So Normal about this game #aaaa thank u for the ask iri!!! I love talking abt this game 🤭

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resident-gay-bitch · 1 year

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Jay's Steddie Fic Recs :)

because i have so many, I needed to make a fresh post of them :)

some of these fics are found on tumblr, some on ao3, maybe some on wattpad? all of them are spectacular. i’ll tag the creators tumblrs if i know them :)

happy reading! <3

Steves First Bruise spiderman!steve x roommate!eddie - eddie has a crush on his roommate steve, who also happens to get into a lot of fights. he also ends up with a crush on spider man. how long will it take for him to figure it out he’s only crushing on one person? please its so adorable

Till I Kissed You steve x eddie - super angsty. eddie doesnt get the big deal about kissing, steve calls him a bad kisser, they kiss to test it out. oh god, now theyre both questioning everything. perfection.

The Boys Of Summer eddie x steve & wayne - for all you wayne lovers out there. steve dreams that eddies alive, he’s so sure that his dreams are real, he tries to break into the upsidedown by himself to get the boy he loved back. wayne tags along for the ride. please, this is so good it has me dying i love it so much.

Not Exactly Nappa Valley eddie x steve - ultimate fake dating scenerio. steve has a family wedding to attend and he wants to piss off his parents, so he brings eddie and they gay it up and… oh my god, plot twist, who wouldda thought they both harboured feelings for eachother?

Needles steve x eddie - eddie gives steve a stick and poke and he kinda gets hard because hes a sadist. steve gives eddie a stick and poke and eddie almost busts in his pants. its pretty funny and has some fabulous smut.

If Your Heart Surrenders steve x eddie - super angst. dates back pre s4 and is very soft and angsty and i loveee it. i binge read the shit out of it. it has a very sweet ending. an alternate version can also be found here on tumblr. @asbealthgn

Recipe For Disaster steve x eddie - princess diaries au?! excuse me, hello. this is everything to me. it is pure perfection. please give this a read because it has me sitting on the edge of my seat, biting my nails and pulling at my hair. everytime a new chapter drops i get so excited. prince steve?!? yes. yes yes yes. @frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe

Crashed The Wedding steve x rockstar!eddie - steve is forced into an arranged marriage and eddie comes to save the day after nine years apart. HELLO this is amazing. pure beauty. please take the time to read this because it’s magnificent, makes my heart swell. it’s very very good. makes me feel things. i love them so much. @piratefishmama

Eddie’s Memory Log steve x eddie - eddie is in hospital post vecna and can’t remember anything, steve visits every day and writes down what eddie can remember - hint hint, eddie always remebers steve. this is so good, i love it very very much, please give it a read. @harmonictechnicality

This Love Came Back To Me famous!steve hopper x ‘dead’!eddie munson - steve rescued eddie’s guitar after his death and processed his grief through song writing, pouted his heart out into the lyrics and took the world by surprise. I LOVE THIS SO MUCH okay, just read it. it’s so fucking good. gut wrenching stuff, okay!? have a read. it’s beautiful. so fucking beautiful i was going through every single possible emotion known to man. @strawberryspence

Bad News First steve x eddie - steve grieves for eddie’s death and becomes close with wayne in the process, slowly falling in love with what could have been with eddie. until… I LOVE IT. it’s beautiful. one of my favs. @strangersteddierthings

Melt Me On Your Tongue wounded!sub!eddie x caring!dom!steve - this is a spicy one, basically pure smut, but it’s got a lot of feelings. i love the style, the atmosphere, and the feeling the author has created for this fic and steve & eddie’s dynamic. it honestly feels delicate to read, and i love it very much. highly recommend. very soft but very spicy and hot :) @steddielations

Black Out Days (Fairground Nights) - eddie x steve - no monsters, modern au. nancy and eddie are best friends, robin and steve are best friends. when nancy and robin date, steve and eddie clash… a lot. ‘tis brilliant. this fic is so fucking angsty, it’s got some really fucking heavy themes (please read the warnings before proceeding) but it’s written so effortlessly beautifully. this has easily become one of my favourites now. it’s more than worth the read. @azrielgreen

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aroundthewaygirlao3 · 3 months

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Hiya Tumblr Portwell friends! Did you miss me?

I'm working on a couple different projects right now, but this one is moving a little faster, so I decided to start posting in hopes of keeping the momentum going! (I am also working on the Cowboy Like Me AU, but I need to do some more research for that one.)

So, here it is, the Portwell Princess Diaries AU that no one asked for, but I'm going to write anyway!

On her 18th birthday, Gina Porter wasn't wishing for much. Maybe a cupcake with her friends, or flowers from her boyfriend (however unlikely that might be). The only wish she's ever really had, for her dad to still be alive, was obvously never going to come true.

But her world is turned upside down when a mysterious man with a strange European accent appears at her door with a letter and the surprise of a lifetime: Gina is actually a Princess of Portania, a small country in the Alps, a fact that her parents have concealed her entire life.

Now that she's an adult, it's up to her to decide if she wants to be a Princess, or if she'll give up her royal title like her father before her. Swept into a new world of opulance and complications, she has the help her cousin Ashlyn, the heir apparent to the Portania throne, and the handsome son of the King's most trusted royal advisor to teach her the ways of royal life. Will Gina find that in the end, she's princess material?

#portwell #gina x ej #ej x gina #gina and ej #ej and gina #portwell fanfic #portwell fanfiction #aroundthewaygirl on ao3 #aroundthewaygirl on a03 #portwell au

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frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe · 1 year

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A Recipe for Disaster

The Princess Diaries 2 steddie AU no one asked for but that i couldn’t get out of my head!!

On AO3 here

It had taken a lot for Steve to get to where he is.

As a person, not like, “in life”-wise

He was most definitely better off than most, he was about to be King of a whole ass country for fucks sake, but the internal shitstorm he had gone through to become the person he is today...was a lot.

He was 16 going on 17 when his long lost aunt showed back up in his life. News of his birthright hitting him like a ton of bricks.

Queen Joyce Renaldi was his father (Stephan Artur Renaldi II)’s older sister, and became Genovia’s ruler when her father passed away shortly after Steve’s.

She had sat down with him and patiently explained everything to him, that since he was the sole male heir to the throne, the crown’d be his when he turned 18. If he wanted it. That she’d train him in everything he needed to know to get him ready and if she had anything to do with it, he wouldn’t be alone in this. He’d have her to guide him as long as he needed her.

At that point in his life, he had already: lost his dad, learned how much of an ass his father really was (and how much people were glad he was gone), and completely shut down. He used to be the King of his school (ironically) but after his dad died, he dropped the façade and became friends with Robin Buckley, local freak.

It didn’t take long before they were the literal best of friends, joined at the hip and at the braincell, platonic soulmates. She became everything to Steve and even after one bad drug trip, finding out he was a royal (for real), their first fight, and his stupid brain thinking that his old best friend Tommy Hagen wasn’t just flirting with him to capitalize on Steve’s newfound status, but because he actually did like him back only to be caught by paparazzi making out in a boathouse at his school’s beach party…Robin was still there. She was always there for him.

She even decided to pursue her degree in languages at the same college; and not just her own degree, but also took another major in international and public affairs, same as him. Fully intending to stay by his side in Genovia.

Steve loves her so damn much (a fact she says he reminds her of all too often).

Which brings him to today. Graduation day.

Finally, finally, he’d be returning to Genovia. With Robin and their co-parented orange cat named Concrete by his side, he’d finally be returning to the country he loved. That he had loved since first landing there the summer after junior year.

He was looking forward to his 21st birthday coming up in a few weeks, nervous about being completely ‘of age’, and the upcoming coronation, but Aunt Joyce had assured him that he would rule at her side before officially taking over.

“Your highness, Lady Robin, look out the window,” Jim Hopper: head of security, local badass, and great friend and father (to his own kids, and a welcome father-figure to Steve these last 4/5 years), interrupted Steve’s tired thoughts and worries, “Welcome back to Genovia.”

Steve looked up at Hopper, grinning, and turned to the window closest to their seats where Robin was already holding Concrete up by his armpits to look out the window too. Steve loved seeing the palace as they flew over, but now all he saw was two-day old, travel-mussed, blonde hair and the bottom half of a very fat orange cat.

—--

The few weeks leading up to his 21st birthday went by in a flash.

The first couple days were appointments with the Palace’s medical team, introductions to the newer members of the staff that Steve would be seeing around daily, official introductions of Robin (and her official titling as Steve’s Royal Advisor) to the staff, fittings for his attire for the ball (a maroon tuxedo, subtly patterned with branches of the Genovian Pear tree in a slightly darker shade, a golden sunflower yellow bow tie and matching waistcoat, Genovia’s royal sash and medals, and a smaller crown of his grandfathers who, like Steve, was partial to warm tones than to cool ones. This crown looked like if the circular backsplash pattern of a drop of water was cast in gold. The peaks of the crown were each adorned with a ruby, which just barely poked out above Steve’s hair like a halo), and multiple small family dinners, just Steve and his two favorite ladies (Aunt Joyce and Robin) plus Lord Concrete and Joyce’s beloved mutt Maurice. The latter of the two being sworn enemies.

Soon (too soon), it was the night of his ball. Joyce was to enter first with Hopper, and after her speech, would lead the attendees in a toast to Steve as he entered the ballroom. Steve could hear Joyce making her speech though the heavy oak doors, her voice carrying easily though the hall as if the palace itself wanted to send her voice as far as it could.

To top off the pile of anxiety growing in the pit of his stomach, Robin wasn’t with him at the moment. She wasn’t allowed to make the entrance with him, but knowing she’d be just on the other side of the door and down the stairs, gave him little reprieve.

He was pacing between the two doormen on his side of the door, twisting his grandfather’s signet ring worriedly on his left middle finger. The ring was a gift from Joyce for his birthday, said she wanted Steve to have it because “He would have absolutely adored you, Steve. He’d be so proud to see such a handsome, well-rounded young man wear it.” She had his face cupped in her small hands and wiped away his tears with her thumbs when they made their appearance. The ring was too big, big enough for Steve to be constantly worried about losing it right off his finger at the slightest movement. He is already planning on sending it off to be resized, but wanted to have it with him tonight.

Again, too soon, there was no more time to panic as he could hear the announcement of his name coming from the ballroom.

“Presenting, His Royal Highness, Stephan Artur Harrington-Renaldi, Prince of Genovia.”

At the bangs of the announcer’s staff, Steve stepped forward on shaky legs, the double doors opening before him by the ballroom’s doormen just as rehearsed. He dusts off his old “King Steve” mask and smile from his time in high school, puts them on, and walks through the threshold and out to the short balcony created by the twin staircases, beaming at the gathered dignitaries.

“To Prince Steve.” Joyce calls and lifts her glass of champagne.

“To Prince Steve!” The crowd parrots.

Steve lifts his right hand and gives them all a wave, then switches it out for his left, waving a little bit too vigorously toward where he’s spotted Robin who’s grinning at him, looking stunning in the sparkly golden yellow gown she had to almost be wrestled into. He must’ve waved too hard because he feels his grandfather’s ring fly directly off his sweaty hand.

He turns, eyeline chasing the flight path of the ring only to see it land safely in one of the doorman’s grasp.

The elderly man approaches Steve “It happens all the time.” he drops the ring into Steve’s palm and smiles. “And Happy Birthday.”

“Thank you very much.” Steve returns the smile

The titter and giggles from the crowd subdue back into easy chatter as Steve comes down the stairs to his left, and grasps Robin’s hand on his arm as soon as she weaves her arm with his.

“You must be the clumsiest royal to ever grace these halls, Your Royal Dingus.”

“You’re absolutely right, now every important person in the literal world knows it.”

"You are incorrect, Lady Robin,” Joyce calls from behind the two, who turn to face her. “My father was just as clumsy as our Steve, perhaps even more so.” Her smile is polite and loving, but the teasing smile on Hopper’s face betrays exactly what she is thinking.

‘Those two are just as symbiotic as Robin and I, I swear.’ Steve thinks to himself.

“Gee thanks,” Steve rolls his eyes but detaches himself from Robin “Care to be my first dance, Aunt Joyce?”

“I thought you’d never ask, my dear.” She similarly unweaves her arm from Hopper’s and places her palm atop the back of Steve’s downturned one.

Steve leads her to the middle of the ballroom, their guests parting like the red sea in front of them to give an open area to dance. As if they could read their minds, the band starts a classic waltz and Steve leads his Aunt around the outer edge of the circle.

Hopper soon joins them with Robin, and slowly, more and more folks spin themselves into the dance. Steve smiles at Prime Minister Wayne Henderson and his wife Claudia as he and Joyce spin past them, and when the song ends, it’s like the ice has been broken and the party can actually start.

People approach him from all angles to wish him a happy birthday, and make their introductions, including quite a few members of parliament, recognizable by the Genovian Crests pinned to their suits. Robin latches back to his side, they fend off the “Oh, how cute of a couple!” comments as usual, and Robin gets to flex her dignitary muscles. He catches a few excerpts sometimes when she is speaking to foreign dignitaries in their native languages. Steve feels very lucky to have her.

He’s whisked away soon after to start the part(s) of the evening he’s dreading the most. Prince Stephan is expected to dance with all the eligible persons of Royal descent. He starts with Robin first, just to get his nerves out of the way.. Then it’s off to the races.

It’s really like they all just expect him to be only a Prince Charming, He asks many of them questions about their own countries/principalities or their interests and they look at him like they'd rather he just tell them how nice they look.

The only one that doesn’t fit this mold so far, is a woman about his age named Nancy. Her small and petite frame is definitely in that mold of most of the attendees he’s expected to dance with, but she tells Steve immediately about how she’d love to be a journalist if it weren’t for her royal expectations.

“I just love to get down to the bottom of things, you know? I like digging in and finding out anything and everything about a story.”

“That sounds fantastic, I’d love to read some of your work sometime.” Steve smiles at her and is rewarded with a small smile and blush. “Actually,” he continues “Our head of security’s oldest son is a photographer, I’d love to introduce you. His work is really good; I feel like your writing and his photo skills could be a great combination.”

He wasn’t lying either, from the few minutes he’s spent with Nancy, he can tell without a doubt that anything she wrote would be fantastic, and though Jonathan and he have always been kinda weird, his photography is plastered all over the Palace’s media releases and he definitely has talent.

“Really? I would love to meet him.”

“Come on, I need a break from dancing anyhow.” They step apart and he offers his arm to her, which she takes. Steve can easily spot Hopper from across the room, easily a head taller than most.

Hopper greets them as they approach, “Good evening your highness, your highness.” directing their titles to each of them.

“Hi Hop, is Jonathan around today? Nancy here is an aspiring reporter and I’d love to introduce them.”

Hopper smiles warmly down at Nancy, “Ah, is that so! Well it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance Madam Nancy, let me radio Jon.”

“Thank you Mr. Hopper.” Nancy beams at him

“Please, your highness, Hopper or Jim is just fine with me.

“Just don’t call him Jimmy.” Steve stage whispers to Nancy, loud enough for Hopper to hear and shake his head at him. “Are Will and Ellie around tonight?”

“Ah yes, they are around here somewhere. I think they and Mr. Henderson have met the young Lord Sinclair, so I’m sure I will have to respond to one of their messes here sooner than later.”

“Your other children?” Nancy asks, genuinely curious.

“Yes ma’am, the wonder twins themselves.” His close-lipped smile makes his mustache scrunch on his face along with causing his well-worn crows feet to make their appearance.

“Whadja need…dad?” Steve hears Jonathan call out then trail off when he catches sight of Steve. “Good evening your highness, happy birthday.” He quickly catches himself and greets Steve with a short bow, “Is there something wrong?”

“Not at all Jonathan, I just wanted to introduce you to Princess Nancy here.” He gestures at Nancy, who’d mostly been hidden from sight behind Steve from where Jonathan had approached. She releases her hold on Steve’s arm and extends her hand for Jonathan to take.

“Many apologies your highness, I didn’t see you there. How do you do?” He takes Nancy’s extended hand and bows with a light kiss to her knuckles. “Is there something I can help you with?”

Steve watches this exchange and immediately the arrow on his brand new internal ‘Nancy’ dial flops from where it was in the “Interested in Nancy” section, to the complete opposite “Get Nancy and Jonathan together at all costs” section.

Nancy’s whole face and neck are blushing a wonderful shade of pink (Steve can even see some dripping down onto her collarbones since the navy blue dress she wears is sleeveless). Steve smirks and is about to cut in to tell Jon all about her, but she gets to it before he can, still eloquent and in command of her words despite her obvious flustered mood.

“I was telling Steve about my wishes to become a journalist and he said your photography work was very good. I am assuming you are on the palace’s public relations team?”

Jonathan still hasn’t let go of Nancy’s hand, and it doesn’t look like he’d like to anytime soon. “Y_yes, I am the lead photographer.. Steve said that?” Jonathan glaces at Steve disbelievingly.

Nancy nods, “He did. I would love to see what you’ve been able to capture so far.” She gestures to the heavy-looking camera around his neck.

“Uhh..” Jonathan looks to Steve worriedly, who quickly mimes standing up straight and offering his arm. “O_of course, I’d love to show you, your highness.” He offers his arm to her and she takes it excitedly.

“Please, just call me Nancy.” she smiles at Jon and his face flushes red.

About an hour later, Steve is starving and starting to get hangry from lack of food. He really doesn’t want to accidentally snap at someone important, so he sneaks over to the corner where his towering birthday cake has been mocking him, picks up one of the tiny serving spoons, and spoons out a mouthful of the cake from behind one of the fondant flowers.

Someone taps him on the shoulder “I saw that.”

Steve looks over, ready to apologize, and has to look down a bit more than he thought. “Uh, it’s my cake.” He tells the younger man. He must be at least 18, he’s definitely not a young kid. Curly light brown hair, slicked backward on the sides, like a fake mullet. “I like your hair dude, very 80s.”

The kid looked embarrassed, “Yeah my mom did it, it’s not what I would have done but I’m not the best at maintaining my curls myself. Our deal is if my mom does my hair, she does all of it. Style and all.”

“It looks really good, I promise, you should tell her thanks.” Steve says, taking another bite of cake.

“Dude.” the kid says incredulously, “Save some for the rest of us.”

“Dude.” Steve parrots back in the same tone “It’s my cake, I can eat as much as I want.” He pauses for a second, and thinks ‘Reel it back in Steve, you don’t even know who this kid is or who this kid’s parents are. Don’t be rude and start a war accidentally.’

“Sorry, I haven’t eaten anything all night and I can feel myself getting hangry. I’m Steve.” Steve switches the small spoon into his left hand and extends his right to the kid

“Yeah, I know who you are, you did make a pretty grand entrance earlier; don’t know if you noticed.” He takes Steve’s hand and gives it a strong (but somewhat clammy) shake. “I’m Dustin Henderson.”

“Ah, so you’re Wayne’s kid.” Steve drops Dustin’s hand.

“No, Claudia’s kid. Wayne is my Step-dad.”

“Oh, sorry...Wait, is that a bad thing?”

“God no, Wayne is the best. Quiet, contemplative, you know he loves you no matter what. And he’s been around as long as I can remember.”

Steve nods along to what Dustin is saying, picking up a second spoon and pulling out another spoonful of cake for Dustin, handing it to him while he’s still talking.

“He even took my Mom’s last name when they got married. He said that he’s the one joining our family, not the other way ‘round.”

Steve has that much more respect for the already well-respected Prime Minister.

“Plus I heard him tell my mom once that his family are a bunch of sleezebags so he’s happy to be rid of his own name anyhow.”

“Wow really? Who’s his family I wonder?”

“Dunno, never asked him and I don’t really want to bring it up if he hates them all, you know?”

“True, true.” Steve agrees. “I like you kid, (“Kid?? I’m only 3 years younger than you!”) I hope to see you around again if I don’t die of boredom talking to all these parliament geezers.”

Dustin grins a big squinty grin at him and extends his hand to Steve again. Steve smiles and shakes his hand, then Dustin puts on a fake, very haughty voice and says “I’ll have my people contact your people.”

Steve throws his head back and bellows out a laugh, “Sounds good man. C’mon, I wanna introduce you to my best friend, Robin. She’s the coolest, I think you guys will like each other.” He pats Dustin on the shoulder, stepping out around the table to lead him across the room where Robin is chatting with Murray and Hopper.

“Oooh, best friend only?” Dustin asks suggestively

“Nuh-uh don’t even go there little man, Steve looks back at the teen, “I am SO not her type and___oh shoot, your..foot” Steve looks up at the person whose foot he just crushed, and his hazel eyes meet chocolate brown. “Are you alright?”

“I’ll survive, your highness.” the man says, standing to his full height, Steve also rises to keep his gaze. “The fault was entirely my own. I apologize.”

The man is just slightly taller than Steve, and has dark brown, almost black, curls. They cascade onto his shoulders, and Steve has the overwhelming urge to reach out and see if they are as soft as they look. Only half of this hair is down, the top half pulled back away from his face.

He is drop-dead gorgeous.

“Are you sure you don’t want to exchange licenses and proof of insurance?”

“No, no, these shoes were a little big anyway, the swelling should help them fit a bit better.” he grins and Steve feels his heart palpitate at the sight.

“Please, excuse me..” He says, stepping back and to the side to squeeze through the crowd.

“Sure.” Steve says, whisper quiet, but dreamboat is already walking away.

As usual, Steve just knows exactly where Robin is, and he turns to meet her gaze (she had already been watching the interaction from her spot across the room).

The two of them mouth “What the fuck?” to each other before Steve’s attention is pulled back to Dustin quietly saying "Holy shit.."

"You saw nothing, that was nothing." Steve points at Dustin accusingly.

Dustin puts his hands up in mock surrender "Okay, okay, that was nothing..."

A couple dances later, Steve finds himself dancing with one little girl that honestly, he’d dance with all night if he could. She’s a sassy little thing, a princess from a neighboring country, who calls herself “Lady Applejack” with all the conviction in the world (Steve thinks her name is really Erica though). She stands on his toes while he spins them in dance like she is trying with all her might to crush the digits below her own into the floor for offending her personally.

When he asks about her interests, she tells him almost reluctantly about her love for Dungeons and Dragons, but insists that she’s NOT a nerd. He’s not sure what Dungeons and Dragons even is, but he has an overwhelming feeling that Dustin actually might. Steve tells her as much, and she looks excited that there may be someone else here to talk to about her game.

Steve feels a tap on his shoulder and when he turns, dreamboat is smiling down at Erica.

“Pardon me, Lady Applejack, may I cut in?”

“I’d be mad if you didn’t.” And with that, Erica nearly wrenched herself from Steve’s grasp, and strutted off, looking for Dustin.

“I would say thank you for saving me, but she’s the best dance partner I’ve had so far.” Steve tells the dreamboat, sliding into his arms like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“I believe you wholeheartedly, Your Highness.” He chuckles

“Steve. I prefer to be called Steve. And you are…?”

“Eddie. Just.. Eddie.”

Steve laughs “Well, Just Eddie, I’m glad to see that my clumsiness hasn't affected your dancing.” Eddie spins them in a lazy circle, “I’m sorry I stepped on your foot.” he whispers

“You can step on my foot anytime.” Eddie says, a promise.

They had stopped twirling, more or less just swaying back and forth in one spot. Steve was suddenly hyper-aware of how close they had gotten to each other, and how much closer Eddie’s forehead was to his own.

Suddenly, Eddie’s head spun to look at something. It was Dustin.

“It’s Sir Dustin’s turn.” He says to Eddie in that same fake-haughty tone he’d used before.

“You’re quite right, Sir Dustin.” Eddie says, stepping away from Steve and giving Dustin a quick bow.

Steve finds himself missing his closeness when his whole front goes cold in his absence.

“Your highness,” Eddie smolders at him through his lashes with his own bow to Steve, which he returns. And then. He’s gone.

Steve automatically takes Dustin’s hands and starts up the waltz once again, mood soured completely and vaguely aware that Dustin is trying to get his attention.

"Dude. Steve!”

Steve looks down at Dustin, hoping his calm face portrays how pissed he is.

Dustin rolls his eyes, “Look, I know we just met but please just play along here, pretend like you and I both know this is a joke. Laugh or something.”

Now Steve’s just confused.

“With all respect your highness, really and truthfully, love who you love, but the old guys that will end up making decisions for you are not all as cool as Wayne, and would probably have an aneurysm if they think you’re actually making googly eyes at the eligible bachelors here.”

Steve laughs uncomfortably, “Uh, I’m not_”

“You and I both know you were. C’mon man, you know I’m right.”

Steve actually starts laughing at the absurdity of it all. He’s grateful for Dustin, Steve knows he’s right, but he also wants to cry and bury himself in the garden out of embarrassment.

“You’re right, you’re right! Damn it… He was a total dreamboat though, wasn’t he?” Steve waggles his eyebrows at Dustin and laughs again at his disgusted expression.

“Want me to save you, little man?” This time, it’s Robin who cuts in, moving to take her turn as Steve’s dance partner.

“Ugh. Please.” Steve lets Dustin go. “Don’t say I don’t do anything for you.” he says as he walks away, waving at Steve and Robin over his shoulder.

“Tell me everything right now or I swear to god I will throw your shoes into the fountain.” Robin demands as soon as they start spinning.

“You saw how hot he was! And literally so smooth..”

“What was with the kid?”

“I was mooning over Eddie.”

“Oh, his name is Eddie huh?” She grins at him slyly “And what about it?”

“Dustin, rightfully, pointed out that the peanut gallery wouldn’t be too keen on me dancing with all the hotties in the room, not just the lady-type ones. He cut in to cover for me.”

Robin winced in understanding “Oof.. yeah I should’ve caught that too, honestly.”

"Yeah, me too.”

After this leg of the Prince Stephan World Waltzing Tour, Prime Minister Henderson tells Steve once again that “There’s a member of Parliament you should meet.” and heads off to go grab said member’s attention before Steve follows. Murray, Joyce’s #1 and palace scheduling wizard, passes by and Steve stops him with an uncomfortable “Murray, how many more members of parliament are there?”

“Only six left, sir. You’ve got it this.” He claps his hand on Steve’s shoulder.

‘Oh. That’s not too bad,’ Steve shrugs to himself as he and Murray part ways. Someone calls his name from behind him and when he turns toward the voice, he feels a tug at his hair and a weight sliding from his head at the same time.

Whirling around, Steve’s hand flies to his head to try and catch the crown before it falls completely off, but is met with the faces of a very apologetic waiter and a very cold-looking member of parliament who had already saved the priceless item from hitting the floor. The waiter whose tray had knocked the crown off his head is apologizing profusely, and the other man is making what Steve thinks is a very rude shoo-ing motion towards them.

He focuses his attention on the gangly looking waiter. “I am so sorry, It was only an accident!”

“No, No, it’s perfectly fine I promise. I am all good, no harm no foul.” Steve smiles genuinely at them.

The waiter clasps his hands together and smiles gratefully before turning and rushing from the room. ‘I’ll have to make sure he’s not fired for this, that’d be shitty.’ Steve thinks to himself.

“Thank you for catching that.” Steve tells the cold-mannered man, crouching down a bit so he can place the crown back on his head.

“You should be more careful, your Royal Highness.” He tells Steve, fixing the headpiece into position, “someone may try to take that from you.”

“I sure hope not,” Steve says with an awkward laugh, lightly touching his head “thank you for all your help!” and turns back to Prime Minister Henderson, intending on asking who the cold-mannered man was.

Pt. 2 here!

Tagging the couple folks that showed interest on my original post, hope you don’t mind! @totallybitchin, @potentialheartofdarkness, @steddieasitgoes, @princessstevemunson

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musicfeedsmysoul12 · 1 year

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While talking about the Bard AU with @anastasian-dreamer I ended up remembering my old AU from TikTok where Izuku is living the plot of the Princess Diaries. And then went: wait, the MLA stuff.

So, an AU where Izuku learns his father isn’t a ‘random fire breather living in America’ but is in fact the current King of a small country near Japan that discovered his infertility recently and learned that his only child is Izuku. King Hisashi instantly goes to Japan to speak to his ex girlfriend and speak with Izuku where he learns some stuff. Mainly: Inko had lied to Izuku about her being married to Hisashi and lied to others. I can’t remember if I posted the AU here or just ranted about it to Ari but like an AU I had was with Inko being super in love with Hisashi who wasn’t into her and then pulling all sorts of shit to try and force him into a relationship because I was in a weird mood.

So it’s kind of like that. Hisashi ain’t happy with Inko and ends up taking Izuku with him to live in a new apartment with his grandma. Now while the book grandma was a fucking weirdo and I loved it, I want more Movie Grandma, mixed with ‘new age hippie’ so that’s what we get. She also fully supports Izuku’s dreams of herohood, because according to her: ‘a hero serves his country and those around it. Hisashi won’t care if you be a hero in Japan for a few years before coming to the throne.’

Of course I am also like: wait would he be allowed to be a hero? Which... I do not know...

Support student Izuku?

I’m imagining though the MLA is heavily against the whole thing cause: Ah, a Quirkless child in power! No! Because I want Quirkless Izuku being a hero and a prince cause why not.

So we have the MLA be a MUCH bigger threat than in Canon as this is proof that their ideals are wrong. Meanwhile, Humarise is fully into this idea of a Quirkless King.

Izuku is getting loaded down with political lessons, history lessons, ettiquite and dealing with having a bodyguard (for now. As a hero they'd be only around to prevent kidnappings and stuff, but as a kiddo he needs help). Who takes 1 look at Bakugou before going: Ah, no.

Because it is me I am also thinking of couples and honestly? Not to sure. My TikTok had it IiDekOcha but the more I think about it, the more I'm like: EEEEE I dunno. We just need someone who is a good and charming person who will also be king. (Or have two people be consorts)

Who would be fun... I mean... hmm...

#bnha #bnha au #prince Izuku AU #me to me: no you can't have shigaraki have a crush on him #why am I weirdly into creepy ass one sided crushes #the one sided but otherwise fine stuff is funny to me #but the creepy ones is WEIRD

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serenity-lattes · 2 years

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For my Free Space in the @harringroveson-bingo, I present to you an AU based on both of The Princess Diaries movies.

The Prince’s Diaries: A Harringroveson Story

Pairing: Eddie x Steve x Billy

Summary: Steve, a reserved high school senior, is visited by his mysterious aunt and is given the most shocking news imaginable. He’s a prince and with his cousins refusing the throne, he’s also the heir apparent. He’s got his boyfriend Eddie and best friend Robin to help him along the way, but now there’s more trouble than just “prince lessons.” Billy Hargrove is another eligible heir to the throne and oh, is he a piece of work. Who will be the next king?

Warnings: Will add as the story is written.

Chapter 1: Me, a Prince? Shut up!

Chapter 2: Miracles Happen

Chapter 3: Your Crowning Glory

Harringroveson Bingo Masterlist

“Casting” below the cut!

Joyce Byers as Queen Clarisse Renaldi

Steve Harrington as Princess Mia Thermopolis

Robin Buckley as Lilly Moscovitz

Eddie Munson as Michael Moscovitz

Billy Hargrove as Lord Nicholas Devereaux

Jim Hopper as Joe

Terry Ives as Charlotte Kutaway

Ted Wheeler as Baron von Token

Karen Wheeler as Baroness von Token

Murray Bauman as Paolo Puttanesca

Tommy Hagan as Lana Thomas

Carol Perkins as Fontana

Nicole as Anna

Neil Hargrove as Viscount Mabrey

Bob Newby as Prime Minister Motaz

Jonathan and Will Byers as the crown princes who want nothing to do with the throne

Nancy and Mike Wheeler as the children of the Baron and Baroness, who are embarrassed by their parents’ obsession with the crown

Dustin Henderson and Lucas Sinclair as princes who show up for Steve’s slumber party

Jane Ives is Terry’s daughter and good friend of Will growing up

Max Mayfield is a Lady of nobility, a title only bestowed to her upon her mother’s marriage to Neil

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wardenparker · 2 years

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Necessary Arrangements: ch 3

Will Miller x female Reader A Princess Diaries inspired Triple Frontier AU Co-written with @steeevienicks

Upon returning from Colombia with one fewer member of his former special forces team, Will Miller is met with the revelation that his absent father is dying and Will is expected to take over the family business. Which would be fine, if the family business weren’t the running of an entire small nation. This is Will’s chance to start over and do some good in the world - but how will he cope with his new life and the woman he is supposed to spend it with?

Rating: Teen, but as always this blog is 18+! Word Count: 15.4k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this series include family death, cursing, and food descriptions.* The yearning is starting up real quick here, guys. Not sure there are really any warnings afoot, though. Summary: The chaos of embracing royal life is a lot for Will to swallow, but the craziest part of all of it might be how quickly he finds himself attracted to you - or maybe it’s the calls home to the guys. It’s hard to tell which. Notes: We’re back from our accidental hiatus and we are better than ever! We’re introducing some supporting cast members in this chapter and getting the plot rolling on into high gear!

Ch 1 ~ Ch 2

The speech writers did a marvelous job with his first address. They kept it clean and to the point, warm and encouraging as Freidlyn steps into a new age while still honoring its roots and traditions. The respectful grieving of a son and half-brother who is embracing his heritage and home head-on. You had stood behind the cameras with Minna, watching the attentive man you met just this morning at breakfast, square his shoulders like a ready soldier and prepare for the battlefield of public speaking. The ease and charm that was so surprising in his voice did not come until later - halfway through the speech when he improvised slightly and made everyone in the room smile from how fully engaging your new king truly is as a speaker. He said he had done this before. He had given motivational speeches and talked with American soldiers. It showed.

“How did I do, ladies?” He asked once the flurry of the televised speech was over. He was nervous at first but found his confidence around halfway through - making sure people were invested and engaged with the words so carefully written for him. If he’s honest, he knows he did well – he excelled with speaking to troops about his experiences in and out of the military and was able to hold crowds over with what he was saying, but he really just wanted you to tell him he did well.

“Very well done, your Majesty.” Minna isn’t one for empty compliments and had anticipated giving just a polite nod of approval, but this man is a natural public speaker. There is no doubt about that.

“You were—” With your hands around your own waist and holding to yourself tight, the unconscious attempt to hold yourself back from him is very real. Two hours, one meal, and one speech is far too little time to developing an affection for him and yet here you are. “You were wonderful.” It’s honest, at least, and you manage to keep from looking too doe-eyed in the process. “Your father, god rest his soul, would have been proud to hear you talk about taking the throne as coming home.”

Your polite but sincere words make him smile wider than he realizes. He bites his lip to keep himself from appearing too giddy, but the red coating his cheeks gives him away. “Thanks, plum,” he clears his throat – a nervous habit he’d never get rid of. “That means a lot coming from someone like you. What now? More speeches? A tour?” He’s hopeful. Hopeful to spend more time with you and getting to know you.

“That will be the only speech for today.” Minna smiles at his eagerness and dips her fingers into the thick folder in her arms – only to pull out a smaller folder from its contents. “If you will please fill out these pages by supper time, I will collect them then. Please be as specific as possible when you can.” She looks between the two of you and nods in a knowing sort of way. “Perhaps her Ladyship would like to give you a tour of the palace in my place?”

“I—” Surprised by the offer, you can’t say it doesn’t appeal to you. Time alone with him is valuable and might not be easy to come by once he is fully ensconced in his duties. “I can do that. Of course.”

“Very good.” Another nod and a smile from Minna, and she extracts an identical folder from her arms to hand to you after William takes his from her hand. “Luncheon will be served in the small dining room at noon sharp.”

Will watches her exit and then turns his attention back to you. “So! Show me everything!” He’s excited – fully expecting there to be secret passages and hidden doors much like the stories and movies he consumed as a child. “What’s your favorite thing about this place?” He’s excited now, he realizes. Excited to see his new home, excited to spend time with you and figure out what makes you tick.

The tactics of Mademoiselle Minna Thorn do not surprise you in the least, nor are they particularly subtle, but you don’t comment on it. “Well, this wing of the palace is mostly for business. Offices, rooms used for meetings. The east wing, the other side of the palace, is for residential use and guest sleeping quarters.” Fidgeting slightly, you tuck the file folder into the broad, thin handbag you’ve been carrying. “Of course, this is just the main palace for business. If you prefer to make your residence at one of the other properties, there are three more to choose from.”

“Huh. I guess I thought everything and everyone was here permanently,” he ponders. “Well, tell you what,” Will places his hands on his hips, “Show me all of them when you have time, and whichever one feels the most homey to you, whether it be here or one of the other places – we’ll call it home. I can make myself comfortable anywhere. I’ve slept in some pretty cramped and not so ideal places and made it out just fine, so I’m trusting you with choosing where we relax after a long day's work.” He wants to give you as many options to choose as possible – fully trusting you to make the right choices along with him.

“Your father lived here, primarily. Parliament is nearby and he chose convenience. Frederick preferred Bertgen Castle on the western coast, and summered at Chèvrefeuille Palace. He likes – liked, excuse me – the gardens there best. Chèvrefeuille is the French name for honeysuckle, and the grounds there are full of it. Castle LaRoche is inland. On top of a very large hill or a very small mountain depended on how you look at it. And is mostly a museum now.” Beginning to walk, your fingers itch with nervous energy but you don’t let the rest of your body show it. “I’ve spent the most time here and at Chèvrefeuille.” The room you stroll into, side by side, is laden floor to ceiling with portraits and set with two beautiful, carved desks. “This is Fräulein Thorn’s office, and she will share it with whomever she hires to be her second in command. The Portrait Room was chosen by your father’s assistant because he found it the most imposing.”

Will listens to you talk about the options he was presented and pauses before speaking. “How about…I stay here for a while, while I adjust to everything and then if I’m not liking the whole ‘no work-life separation balance’ thing we go somewhere else? I mean are you living here now? Or do you have a different place to call home every night?”

“Your father summoned me before…” You clear your throat gently, walking with him into the next room. “I live in an apartment in a different part of the city, but…you’re in charge now. If you want me to stay here, you only need to say so.” As soon as he decides that he wants to make your courtship and engagement official, you’ll be quitting your job and moving into the palace anyway. He only has to say the word.

“Miss Thorn is great and all, but it would be nice to have someone else nearby. She kind of scares me, if I’m being honest. Are you opposed to moving your things in? I can help!” He’s excited to have you close. Your warmth is a welcome presence in his life.

“I am not opposed to it at all.” In fact, your apartment is something of a holding space right now. Your job and your space just a place to exist in until Frederick decided to live up to his responsibilities. That time had not come yet, so you were still waiting. “You really are…very different from Frederick. It—it’s nice.”

He’s a little taken aback, “I am? I really don’t know anything about him. What was he like?” Will is curious. He gets the suspicion that Frederick wasn’t a bad guy, per se, but wasn’t exactly the ideal companion for you either. “Sugarplum, I’m going to say this right now and I need to you take me seriously,” he stops mid-stride, taking notice of how stiff your posture becomes. “If I’m ever out of line, or rude or just…not pleasant in any way, I want you to call me out for it. Please. Put me in my place if I’m ever…foolish or anything, okay?”

“I..I don’t think you would ever do anything foolish on purpose.” From what you’ve seen from him, he’s a straightforward and well-intentioned man. After years of waiting on the sidelines, to be so intimately involved is both overwhelming and a little scary. “I promise to do everything I can to help you. So if that means…nudging you in the right direction from time to time, I’ll do it. I’m sure you’ll find things about me that you aren’t particularly fond of, either. We must do what we can to get along.” You’ll never expect his love, but you do hope to at least be his friend.

Will is grateful for the contract that was signed when you were a child – which he feels weird admitting to himself. As you continue touring the palace grounds he can start to picture his future here – you, by his side as queen, your bond continuing to grow and maybe, hopefully learning to love each other if it felt right. Is it weird to think it might?, he thinks to himself. He never in a million years thought this was something he would be okay with – always content with the chase and swiping on Tinder to find a nice gal to spend a few nights with. He’s staring at you again as you walk, he realizes. Shaking his head and looking straight ahead to avoid any awkwardness.

“The grand ballroom.” You announce as a nearby servant jumps forward to open the heavy, ornate door before you can reach for it. You smile and thank the boy, waiting for Will to enter the room first before you signal to the servant to shut the door behind you. No prying eyes or ears in here. “I don’t suppose you ever learned to waltz in America?”

As soon as the both of you step into the ballroom Will feels like he’s having his very own “Beauty and the Beast moment” (for the record, he’s calling dibs on being Beast in this scenario). It’s beautiful, ornate, and timeless – right out of a fairytale. The ceiling is perfectly decorated with a painting of a sky with puffy clouds and angelic cherubs. A large but delicate chandelier hangs in the middle and casts tiny rainbows all throughout the room due to the sun hitting the windows at just the right angle. “No, never, but if you’d be so kind…” He gestures to you, leaving his request lingering between you.

Oh, that was not the response you expected, but it is too much of a moment to pass up. Stepping closer, you guide one of his hands to your back and place yours on his shoulder, lightly putting your other hand into his and stretching out your arms together. “We’ll have to get you a dance teacher.” You tease softly, knowing that he’ll be required to do plenty of this in the years to come. “Move with your right foot first, one step toward me and a slight turn.” Though there isn’t any music, it still feels like the room should be flooded with it in the late morning sun.

“Like this?” He asks as he follows your direction. Finding it’s not as difficult as he had imagined. He could get used to this closeness. The two of you continue to dance in silence for a few moments, laughing when he trips over his own feet a few times. Okay maybe it’s a little difficult.

“It’s easier with music.” You promise him, still in the circle of his arms when he steps on the toe of your shoe once again. “You’ll, um…you’ll have to learn. For your coronation.” The state dinner after his father and brother’s funeral won’t have dancing, but the coronation ball will be exactly that – a ball. “Traditionally the first dance would be with the queen, but you might dance with the Prime Minister first instead? Minna will know what the protocol is.”

“Well, I’d like to think I’m a good student if you’re willing to teach me how to be more graceful. I know I need a lot of polishing…” He’s hopeful you’ll be the one to teach him, to be the one he dances with from now on. “I’m sure the prime minister is nice, but I’d much rather dance with my sugarplum.”

“It will start rumours.” He’s still not entirely aware of what he is getting himself into, and you have to remember that. While he may not have to run the country, every step he takes will be scrutinized from here in out. “For that matter, moving me into the palace and having me by your side will start rumors.” But even so, you can’t quite bring yourself to step out of his arms. There’s something comforting about him that you can’t put your finger on, even though you’ve only known him a few hours. “I’m…fully prepared to do my duty, but it would not give you much space to change your mind about the contract. If you wanted to find someone else, it would cause a scandal. And…seeing as there may be some people who aren’t fond of having a king who was raised in a different country and barely even knew he was Freidlych in the first place…I don’t want to cause you any harm.”

Will steps away from you slightly, not realizing that him being all in could reflect negatively on you. “Oh…I—I guess I never considered that.” He feels bad. Did you feel uncomfortable with him being so forward? He’s nearly positive he won’t want to void the contract, but you do make valid points. “Well, maybe we should wait on some stuff then? I’m sorry,” He says quietly. “I wouldn’t want anyone to think poorly of you or start rumors when they could be avoided…” He sounds sad, but understands where you’re coming from.

“I only mean that, I want you to have time to think about it.�� For some reason, having him step away feels more like a punishment then you’re willing to admit to yourself. There is, at least for you, a sort of instant attraction at play here. But the fact that he is handsome won’t make the next forty or fifty years of your lives easy by any means. “To become prince, king, husband, and father all in the course of a few years is a change that would make most men crumble. And I—” You smooth your nervous hands down the length of your dress, reminding yourself that this is a private moment. Just for the two of you. And he asked you to speak your mind. “I love my country too much to see her embroiled in scandal. Just as I…I find very much that I want to see you succeed. So, the way I see it, we have options to consider.”

His demeanor changes then as he takes you into his arms again and attempts to keep waltzing around the grand ballroom. “Let’s avoid scandals then.” He smiles timidly. “I want to succeed as well for the sake of my father and this country, and I want your success to be…well, everything you could ever dream of it being. That’s all I want for you,” He says your name, drawing your eyes to his.

“We have options.” Why do you get such a shiver when he speaks to you softly? It’s like a summer breeze eating through your whole body. Well, alright, you know why. But why now? Why this man? “If we simply move forward with the contract, there will be plenty of questions about how we met. We can simply tell the truth, but that will raise plenty of concerns from those who dislike you for being raised elsewhere. We can go so far as to claim it was love at first sight at the breakfast table and hope that the people find it charming; or we can insert a tiny lie. Say that we had met before, years ago, and that meeting again has rekindled a spark. I’ve been to America before. Several times. I’m sure we could come up with something.”

Will thinks for a minute before an idea sparks. “I like the idea of us meeting before, and since you’ve been to America why don’t we say we met and stayed…I don’t know, pen pals or something? And the rest is history and all of that.” He offers, liking the idea of coming up with a romantic little story to go along with the betrothal.

“Tell me about your life, then.” He’s less unsteady, somehow, when you talk during the steps. As though not thinking about them so much actually helped him to be more graceful. “A lie is always more convincing when it is close to the truth.”

“Well,” He begins, gripping you a little tighter as you sway around the room. “My name is William Miller – I just moved here from North Carolina where I lived near my mom and half-brother Benny. I served in the military for a handful of years and my best friends – who would all really enjoy getting to know you, by the way, all served with me. We were what’s called Delta Force, it’s special forces. I’m a meat and potatoes kind of guy, love relaxing on the couch with a beer and a ball game, I like to hike but my last one was…” he pauses, thinking about Colombia. “Not the greatest. I enjoy movies, music, and I’m learning that dancing is also pretty nice.” He laughs as he dips you. “Oh, and I’m the future king of Freidlyn, nice to meet ya.”

“Current king.” You shake your head at him with something very clearly like affection. He’s a good man, from everything you know about him. Relatively straightforward and wants to do the right thing. Even though the right thing means completely changing his life with no option to turn back. “Your friends…your brother…your mother. They will all know that we have not met before. Can they be trusted to keep the secret?” Your own family, for their part, will be silent as a vault on the topic. As far as they are concerned this little story will just be a part of the contract. Even your youngest sister, for all her attention-seeking, would never go against the word of the crown.

“I trust the guys with my life. If they’re ever able to come visit, you’ll see why. They wouldn’t jeopardize this for us, promise.” He’s telling the truth – though there have been issues in the past for different reasons with his friends, he knows they’d take this seriously. “They will have questions, but they won’t ask them when it’s not appropriate. And if I tell them to fuck off…oh sh-shoot, sorry, they’ll drop it.”

“You can curse with me.” He’s done in before and apologized, just leaving you to smile about it and brush it off as the conversation continued. “When it’s just as, we can be less formal. That’s what you prefer, right?”

”Please,” he’s relieved. “I’m a veteran of the US Army, it’s so hard not to curse.” he laughs, thinking of all the colorful phrases and adjectives that were used during his time in the service. “But you’d probably be offended if I completely let loose, so I’ll monitor myself while still letting a few ‘fucks, damns and shits’ slip out.”

“I do have brothers.” He turns you in his arms in a move that is very nearly graceful and you laugh with what might be called actual delight. “Three of them, actually. And one sister. So please believe that I can curse when it is called for.”

“Good! That’s a relief,” he laughs. “So tell me about them, tell me about you. How did we meet? Wine bar? Disney World? Take your pick, plum.”

“I went to Disney World once as a child,” you chuckle softly. “So I doubt that would be a good story. But I have been to New York, to Chicago, to Boston, and to New Orleans, all as an adult. Usually with one of my siblings, or my friend Elsie. They will vouch for our story to the press if asked.”

Ideas start coming together in Will’s mind. “Alright, how about we met on a cemetery tour in New Orleans a few years back and hit it off? You and your friends had me tag along on a night out in the French Quarter and we exchanged information and have been pen pals of sorts ever since?” He did take a solo trip and did just those things a few years back, and it could work.

“That trip was with Elsie.” Chewing on your lip is a bad, old habit of yours but it still pops up from time to time like it is now. At some point the formless dancing has stopped, leaving you simply standing in each other’s arms near the far corner of the ballroom. “We went to jazz clubs and ate just about everything, and took a little boat tour through a swamp to a plantation house. It was…beautiful, actually. And a little…I think creepy is the word?”

“Yeah, creepy is a good word to describe plantation houses. Fucked is another, but that’s just between you and I.” Now Will is wishing this trip had actually happened. Maybe in the near future it could? Sans Elsie.

“It would be easy to say we lost contact over time.” Now that the wheels are spinning in your head, you dearly wish it had been him sending you and Elsie drinks in those clubs or asking you to dance. “It was three years ago that I was there. Is that…an acceptable time frame?”

“It’s too good, baby doll. We just lost touch because of work and the killer time difference, but let's say one night I got brave and called you out of the blue and here we are: rekindled because the connection and chemistry were just too good to deny after all this time. C’est la vie!”

Snorting softly at baby doll, you cover your mouth to stifle the little grin that plays on your lips. “New Orleans, then. A few years ago, and we lost touch. We can tell Elsie when we go to the library later.” Your lifelong best friend being in the service of the crown did make it a little easier to spend time in the palace when you had been summoned by the king or prince, and had definitely led to you making friends with more of the staff after just a little while. “The…the slightly less tasteful gossip magazines…they will insinuate that we did more than just meet there. You understand that?” It is what it is. They are rumours that will take on a life of their own, but he needs to be aware it will happen.

“Wouldn’t be the first time a rumor has been spread about my sex life.” He laughs. “Trust me, if I even repeated some of the jokes and words that flew while in the military you’d laugh. Enlisted men have no couth and will say anything to get a rise or a laugh. I’m sure it’s all been said about me before and it doesn’t bother me. Unless they say something nasty about you, then I’ll have a problem.” He has no issues defending a woman who has been harassed.

“We wouldn’t comment on it.” Although now that you’re thinking about it, it’s hard not to wonder what lies beneath the well-tailored suit he has on. No. No. This is neither the time nor the place for that sort of thing. “You should just be aware that it will happen.”

“Thanks for looking out for me.” He smiles – you don’t know it, but he’s having the same thoughts as you – what your skin would feel like under his hands, how you’d look blissed out beneath him. He has to immediately think of Catfish and the mule incident before he gets carried away.

“We seem to have made it across the ballroom…” The observation is fairly useless, but you have to say something that will tear your mind away from how beautifully soft his lips look. Not the time or the place! “And…I think it is nearly time for lunch. We can finish the tour in the East wing after we eat?”

Nodding his head, Will takes a deep breath, inhaling the scent of your hypnotizing perfume – he will have to remember to ask what is it you wear later when it feels less weird. “I gotta say, this dancing has worked up an appetite. I am looking forward to our lunch.” He smiles. "And then the rest of the tour, of course."

“And filling out our papers for Minna.” Both file folders are safely tucked in your handbag, but you know that they need to be done by dinner time and you won’t let them be forgotten. “Are you ready to tell your mother everything? Or would you prefer to wait a little?”

“My mom is a pretty tough lady; I think we should tell her over lunch. She already knows there are a lot of changes coming very quickly so I think the sooner the better.” Apparently, his mom has lived this life before, albeit briefly, so he’s hopeful she’ll understand that she’s very quickly going to be gaining a daughter-in-law.

“Come, then.” Motioning for him to follow, you head to a hidden door in the corner by the windows, carefully unlatching the secret knob and pushing it open to reveal a rather spectacular and giant formal dining room. “They are interconnected for ease,” you tell him, grinning when you see the delighted look on his face at the hidden door. “So that on nights when there is a supper and ball, the guests need not get lost between rooms. And the kitchens are directly below us, stretching most of the length of the west wing.”

“You’re shitting me,” he whispers, elated at the secret door you take him through. “That’s so cool. You have to show me more of these!” He’s nearly giddy at how exciting a secret door is to him. “I think I’m gonna like palace living, plum.” He looks amazed as he steps through the door. “Any other fancy secrets for the ball?”

“There is…more or less…an escape route.” And it is not at all something you would need to keep secret from the staff, as they all undoubtedly use the secret passages to go about their duties more efficiently, as well as keeping them clean. “From the ballroom, up into the northeast tower, and it drops off at two different suites. One of them being yours, of course.”

“You mean to tell me I have my own secret door? What is this day?” Will laughs – harder than he has all morning. “God, if only I have one of those when I was trying to avoid Benny when we were growing up. Plum if we were better acquainted, I’d kiss you right now. This is amazing.” He knows he’s too excited and being ridiculous about the doors, but he can’t help himself.

Your eyes flick over to the footman who is doing his best to be invisible behind the screen in the corner of the room and you can’t help but be a tiny bit disappointed that there is a witness, preventing you from just being bold here in this moment. The thing you can do instead, though, is tease. “You, and whoever is in the second suite. Perhaps it should be Benny’s when he comes to visit?”

“Hm, nah, preferably not…” He lets his words linger, hoping that eventually you’d take an interest in visiting his quarters. “Benny would expect that too much and I don’t want him feeling spoiled now that big bro is the King.” He has no idea how Benny is even going to react when he finds out.

“You should call him.” It’s the smallest suggestion in the world, all things considered, but you know that if it were you, you would want Elsie and your siblings to know what is happening in your life. “And they should come visit. Your friends, I mean. I would think you would want them here for your coronation?”

“I was actually going to ask if it’s okay to invite them. They’ll be on their best behavior, and I think half of them own suits. You’re also right, I really should call my brother. I think…I’ll put him on a flight and tell him in person. Or maybe just tell him right out. It’s huge news…what would you do? If Elsie didn’t know.”

“For Elsie?” Gazing out the window for a moment, you truly do have to consider how you would tell that sort of phenomenal news to the person you care most for in this world. It isn’t an easy thought by any means. “I would tell her straight out. Be as honest as I can. And then book her on the first flight over here so I could give her a big hug.” You half-laugh under your breath, realizing how silly it sounds. “Your real friends should be here to support you.”

He knows you’re right, but just doesn’t know what to say to his brother and friends. Whatever comes from the heart, right? “Do…do I have some time to make a few calls before lunch?” He asks, wanting them to know. He has no doubt every single one of them will drop everything to hop on the first flight to Freidlyn – he would do it for them.

Flicking your wrist to check your watch, you consider the hour but nod. “We have twenty minutes. It’s not a lengthy phone call, but it should be enough to get through to your brother.”

He nods, “Care to join me? Should be a great into to Benny.” He has no doubt Benny will adore you. “Then after lunch we call my friends?”

“I will join you on one condition.” There’s a playful note to your voice, letting him know you’re of course going to do what he asks of you but you’re going to be cheeky first. “Do you remember how to get back to the Blue Room from here?”

“I think I can manage.” He laughs loudly, taking five steps ahead of you and looking around, completely lost. “...With some help, of course.” He winks, offering his arm – if you weren’t so beautifully distracting he definitely would have paid better attention to where the two of you had walked this morning.

The Blue Room is a short walk from the formal dining room, but quick enough if you know the way – which you certainly do. You move easily with your hand around his arm, glad there is no way for him to feel how horribly your heart is beating through so many layers of clothing.

“See? Easy.” He laughs. His heart is hammering in his chest for two different reasons now. “I guess it’s time we let Benny know what’s going on.” He says as he pulls the sleek phone out of his pocket. Benny’s number is already programmed and ready. He keeps your arm through his as he presses the green call button and lefts the phone to his left ear with his other hand.

You don’t want to, but slipping away for just a second to shut the door of his office for privacy is a must. It only takes a moment to be back at his side when you hear a boisterous. “Hey asshole!” Through the phone and you smirk. Ah, brothers.

"Listen, Benjamin – we need to have a little chat about some stuff." He says, trying to keep his composure. Will and Benny have always had a good relationship, but he's really not sure how he's going to react to finding out his brother is a king.

“Benjamin?” On the other end of the line, Benny yawns animatedly. “You wake my ass up at 6am and you call me Benjamin? What’s going on?”

"A shit ton, actually," Will begins. "So, you know how I never really knew much about my dad and mom never liked to talk about him?" He bites his lip.

“Yeah?” Benny shuffles in bed, smothering another yawn. “Mom’s okay, right? She cancelled dinner on me last night and she was gonna make fried chicken so I am jonesing.”

“Yeahyeahyeah, mom’s great. She’s with me actually.” He takes a deep breath. “Well, turns out my dad was king of Freidlyn, you know that nice little European country with the jam and really good whiskey? Um. There was an accident, and he and my other brother passed away and nowI’mtakinghisplaceasking.” he blurts out, hoping Benny was awake enough to hear and comprehend what he just said.

There is dead silence for about fifteen seconds during which you and Will can’t seem to do anything but stare at each other, before raucous laughter bursts out on the other end of the phone. “Fuck you, dude.” Benny Miller laughs down the line. “That’s not even a good prank. King of Freidlyn? Pope came up with this one, right? Had to be Pope to pick someplace so obscure.”

“That’s what I thought too, but nope. It’s legit. I can turn this camera on and FaceTime you right now. I’m in this un-fuckin’-believable palace. In a custom-tailored suit. In my office. I’ve been here since yesterday, and I’m not coming home. I need to do this, and I need you here, so I’m booking you a flight. Like, as soon as we hang up. I’m so serious Ben.”

“Dude it’s too early for your shit.” Benny grumbles. “You’re supposed to be at my fight tonight remember? That ring girl you like is gonna be there and I swear to god if you don’t take her home this time I will, just to piss you off.”

“Benny,” Will stresses before hitting the ‘FaceTime’ button on the call. “Accept my fuckin’ video call and I’ll show you that I’m not shitting you. I swear little bro. For once I’m not bullshitting you.” Will taps his foot impatiently while he waits for Benny to accept the video. He looks to you like you’re an anchor for him. The video finally connects, and he’s met with Benny’s exhausted and annoyed face.

It takes about five seconds to register the surroundings on the other end of the video before Benny is scrambling to sit up in bed and turn the light on. “Holy—I mean—what the fuck…?” He shakes his head vigorously like it will somehow jostle his thoughts back into place but just continues to look stunned. “Holy shit,” he finally breathes when he can form a sentence, but clears his throat the second Will pans the phone around to include you in the shot. “I mean, uh…WOW. You…you’re not messing, are you?”

“Not messing.” He laughs and then introduces you “She’s been a big help, and if you get your ass on a plane tonight, I’ll explain more. Don’t tell the guys though. I’m calling them after we have lunch.” He wants his brother in the same room when he tells him he’s more than likely going to marry you and make you queen. “Mom’s here for a while so maybe you can get your damn fried chicken.” He laughs.

“I’ll beg off the fight.” Benny promises instantly. “Tell then I had a family emergency. The kid I’ve been training with can take it.” He’s up and out of bed now, holding his phone up as he moves across his room. “But, uh…what do I pack?”

“Um…” He looks at you quickly. “Nice stuff – suit pants, suit coat, a tie, clean button up. Just bring the nicest shit you have. If you need me to I can probably ask someone to get nice clothing for you. Oh, bring your dads onyx cufflinks too - those are great. I’ll have flight details texted to you shortly. Thanks for dropping everything for me, Ben.” He’s grateful, he really is, and you can’t help but notice how Will took charge of getting his brother to Freidlyn.

“You would do it for me.” Benny nods to the camera, eyes flicking over to you momentarily but not asking anything else. “I’ll see you soon then, bro.”

Will hangs up the phone and stuffs it back into his pocket. “That’s Benny for ya.” He chuckles. “He’s great, really. I think you’ll get along just fine. So!” he claps his hands. “Lunch?”

“Lunch.” Later on, after speaking with his friends, you’ll have a better handle on if it’s just a familial bond, or if Will truly has this effect on people. Engendering their trust and loyalty to a boundless degree. “You should let Minna know now that she will need to schedule flights so she can have some seats blocked out. Even if all of your friends can’t come tonight, she can at least – what is the phrase – get the ball rolling?”

“Smart and beautiful, you’re quite the gal, Sugarplum.” Will smirks as he links your arms together once again. “Lead the way to lunch, my lady. I’ll let Minna know we have plans to bring the boys.”

Pursing your lips at him like you’re going to make a joke, you simply shake your head and give him arm a gentle squeeze. “Come,” you insist, inching him toward the door. “It’s time to introduce me to your mother.”

“She’s not as loud as Benny, I’m not worried.” He says. “I know you’ll be two peas in a pod.” He’s fully confident his mom will love you and be more than happy to accept you into her tight knit little family, whether or not you and Will work out.

“One can hope.” Obviously you’re not as certain as he is, but then, you have more cause to be nervous. From the Blue Room to the small dining room is only a few steps, and the door is already swung open to allow your entrance before you’ve even crossed the threshold of the hallway. There is a woman sitting just inside, slightly plump from middling age but with bright white and blonde hair and a newspaper open at her place at the table while a footman pours wine into the glass at her place setting. This must be her, for who else could it be?

“Hey ma!” He greets her as she stands, giving her a quick hug and a kiss to the top of her head. “Benny should be on his way tonight – we just talked and he’s pissed about his fried chicken.” Will chuckles then steps away from his mom to pull out your chair.

“He’ll live.” Sandy rolls her eyes affectionately over her youngest son, but keeps her attention on the older. And on you, but proxy. “I don’t believe we’ve been introduced.” She observes, though it’s more curious than accusatory.

Will smiles and introduces you. “Her family signed a contract when she was a kid to marry Frederick, but now that’s not happening…but the contract is still good for me, should I choose, so we will probably be getting married here soon…” He then goes on to tell his mom about how helpful and kind you’ve been since you met mere hours ago, and Sandy can’t help but see the fond twinkle in her son’s eye. She hadn’t seen that look since…well, it doesn’t matter now. She can see it in your eye too as you listen to Will talk about his morning with you.

“You may remember my parents from your earlier time in Freidlyn.” Right now there is not much common ground for you and Sandy Miller, but you are determined to find some. If only for Will’s sake. “My father, Thomas, had just become Duke of Rochegnac at that time. And my mother was Lady Karina Doret before they married.” Sandy rolls back through the old lists of names she used to know, eventually landing on Rochegnac as one of the sunnier parts of the country - known for orchards and liquor production, if she’s remembering right. And Lady Karina does ring a bell, but it takes a moment before she nods. “I do remember them. I believe your mother is an avid painter? I had the good fortune to see a few of her works at the time.”

Will is hopeful that this conversation continues to go well. His mother is a kind person and he’s never heard her mutter one negative word about anyone, maybe some choice words for him and Benny when they didn’t clean up after themselves as kids, but honestly, they deserved it. “Your mom’s a painter?” He asks you. “That’s great! Mom loves pottery! Don’t you, ma? Maybe the two of you can get together and make some nice pieces one of these days.”

“Oh, I don’t think—”

“I’m sure she would love to.” You promise the older woman, not wanting her to be self-conscious about anything that can be avoided. “Perhaps I’ll join you myself, if we can find the right time. My mother’s talent far outstripes my own, but I do enjoy painting to relax.”

Will nods, not daring to miss a word you say to him. "So, you've been telling me so much about what I need to know about myself, but I don't really know too much about you. What's your story, plum?"

“Oh…well,” you chew on the question, mercifully given another moment to think when a footman appears beside you to lay your luncheon plate in front of you. “I was born at Château Rogue in Yeuxbourg, came out when I was sixteen although that did not matter to finding me a match because of the betrothal.” Your eyes flicker between the young king and his mother. “My siblings and I were all educated here and in England.” Without knowing what interests him most, you aren’t really sure what details to give.

He places his elbow on the table, resting his chin in his palm with a far off, dreamy look in his eye. He knows it’s probably frowned upon to have his elbows on the table here, much like he was told when he was small, but at this moment he can’t find a second to care about that. This improper balance is what’s keeping him grounded, keeping him from getting lost in your eyes as you speak of your up bringing. “Do you ever miss it?” He wonders, thinking of how he can manage trips home for you if you’re ever homesick.

“Yeuxbourg?” You shake your head slightly, trying not to smirk at the deliberate way he has his elbow on the table like a defiant child waiting to see if he will be yelled at. “I have worked and lived in the capital for many years, but the country is not so large that I cannot manage a trip to see my parents now and then. And they have a great belief in lavish birthday parties, so I do return several times each year.”

“Oh, good. I’m glad you get to visit.” He noticed the way you tried to hide your smirk at his posture, and immediately straightens up before taking a lengthy sip of the best wine he’s ever had. Not that he had a lot of experience with wine to begin with. He glances over to his mom, who is smiling at the exchange. “Lavish parties though? That sounds like a lot of fun. I’ve been to quite a few parties myself but most of them were in garages with cheap beer, so not so lavish.”

“My parents believe every major life event should be used as a chance to celebrate the greatness of Freidlyn.” Whether that came before or after betrothing their oldest daughter to the future king, you do not know. “My siblings and I enjoy our privileges, but we all work in service of the people and are fully aware that most countries have no place for nobility in the modern age. So what some might think of as a lavish party where all manner of waste is produced, that is not what we do.” In this, at least, you can be immensely proud of the people who raised you. And that is not something everyone can say. “They open the grounds to all of our tenants, and we have carnival games and the best food we can possibly provide. My sister likes to give tours of the ground floor of the château for a few hours on her birthday, and my brother ends up inviting his military friends and they tell stories all day on his birthday. For mine, we will often set up canvasses and paints in the garden and I will act as an artist model with a few friends. We like to wear costumes and make it a bit silly, but the point is to invite all the people who are closest to us as well as though we wish we spent more time with.”

“That sounds incredible. Way better than anything I’ve ever been to.” He thinks of the last “party” he had gone to. It was more of a celebration for their friend Tom who had passed away on the last mission Santi had talked them into, and much more somber for that reason. “I’d love to join the next one if that’s allowed?”

“The next will be in two months’ time.” A warm rush of undeniable affection floods you at the way he lights up with enthusiasm and you smile. “My birthday. So I insist you both be there. And your brother if he is still here.”

“Benny never says no to a party,” His mother says as she picks up another bite of fish with her fork. “And you can absolutely count me in, honey.”

Will smiles at his mom and nods. “I can’t wait! I better start looking at birthday gifts now.” He wonders if there’s someone at the palace that could help with that, since he still has so much to learn about you. Jewelry would be too much too soon, I’m sure…but maybe a brooch? he ponders.

“I’m sure Minna will take care of everything.” Somewhere in the depths of the folders she gave you this morning, there are sure to be questions about flower, jewelry, and clothing preferences amongst everything else. You take a sip of your wine and try not to smile too much at the idea of Will fretting over an appropriate birthday gift for you. “All you need do is arrive.”

“Whatever they’re paying that woman - it’s not enough. She’s a saint and deserves a raise.” Especially after their initial introduction. “So, will my birthdays be like that too? I’d love to have my buddies for celebrations if possible.”

“Your birthday is…more complicated.” While the three of you eat, you can see the shadows moving behind the privacy screen that keeps the servants out of sight during mealtimes. Footmen who have been lurking being pulled away by – you presume – the butler or housekeeper. No doubt they will be scolded for eavesdropping and gossiping. For Will’s sake, you wish they weren’t so curious. He has so much to learn. “The monarch’s birthday is an official holiday that has been celebrated on the same day each year for the past almost four hundred years. You may change how it is celebrated, of course, but there will always be an official appearance of some kind for the monarch and their family, and it is always celebrated on the first of May to ensure good weather.”

An entire holiday? “Holy shit,” Will blurts out. “That’s insane. And cool. And also wow. That’s gonna take some getting used to.” He looks to his mom, for encouragement or support he’s not sure.

“You can do this, Will.” She says as she places a small hand over his. “You’re going to make a great king.”

“Think of it as how America has President’s Day.” Although, if you recall correctly from your visit to his former country around that time of year, the only celebrating was done by furniture and car retailers. “The people like to eat birthday cake after their dinner that night and have a glass of something indulgent to drink. Your father, may he rest in peace, liked to host a dinner party for Freidlych citizens at the tops of their fields. Listen to what suggestions they had to say about how their field could help our nation. And then, of course, cake. There is always a great deal of cake.”

Will nods quickly. “Oh, okay. I think I can manage that. As long as you’re by my side in case it gets overwhelming, I think I can manage.” He blushes, not sure where the sudden nervousness comes from. Here he is – this brick wall of a man intimidated by this incredible woman that has her shit together. Someone more deserving of the crown than he feels he ever could be.

“Try not to let it overwhelm you.” Setting your fork down, you gently reach over and clasp his hand. It is no small show of solidarity, especially in front of his mother, but you feel sure he will not rebuff it. Not after what happened between you in the ballroom. “I will be here every moment, and after it is appropriate to make our announcement – if it is still what you want – we will make sure that I shoulder as many responsibilities as I can to make it equal.” You swallow a sigh and instead nod encouragingly. “I will not let you fail. Not if it is in my power.”

He could kiss you right now, he really could. Instead, he gives you a smile and quietly murmurs his thanks. “I really appreciate that, plum. You’re going to be my rock through this and then some, so I hope you know how much I appreciate everything you’ve done for me.”

“I haven’t done much yet.” So far you have given half of a tour and various encouragements, but not much else in your opinion. “This week will be difficult. And your coronation will be stressful but enjoyable.”

“Still, it’s more than people back home would do, so thank you.”

“What does this week entail?” Sandy asks, gently breaking the moment. She is always acutely aware of the fact that eyes and ears are on monarchs at all times. It’s one of the reasons she eventually decided that a role in the monarchy was not for her.

“Tonight, our national television service will broadcast a short documentary of the king’s life. There will be a church service dedicated to the king and Prince Frederick tomorrow.” You explain slowly, giving Will’s hand a squeeze before taking your own back. “You will both be expected to attend, and of course I will be there as well. After which, Mademoiselle Thorn will arrange for the king to visit the hospital staff that treated his father. To thank them for their service. The day after, a few official portrait photographs will be taken.” It will not be a happy occasion, you know that, but it is necessary. Necessary to show that the royal family does not hold any of the hospital staff accountable for the late king’s death. “On Saturday there will be the joint funeral, and a state dinner that night. On Sunday, Parliament will celebrate the announcement of our king and declare your coronation date.”

Will mentally prepares for the next few days, and the emotions he knows he’ll feel. He isn’t sure what the public will expect, or think of him, but he’s determined to do his duties with poise and grace and to honor his father to his best abilities. He’s glad you and his mom will be there by his side, but he can’t help but wish Benny would be too. “Where do you come in though?” He asks, wanting to reach for your hand again. “Like, I understand you’ll be there but when will they announce…this?” He gestures between the two of you.

“Parliament will not be the ones to announce our engagement when the time comes. You will.” Presumably his mother remembers the circus of public appearances well enough, and you offer her a sympathetic smile. “Your spokesman, anyway. And we will ease the stress of that announcement by making sure we are seen in public together beforehand. But…I think sometime in the month before your coronation would be appropriate? We should check when we go to the library later and see if there is precedent. Elsie, the palace librarian, she will know.” And seeing as she is also conveniently your best friend, you can trust that your secret will not leak to the press based on the questions you need to ask of her.

“Oh, okay.” He’s relieved to know that he’ll have more time before another massive changing event. “I wouldn’t mind being the one to announce it. How did dad do it?” He turns to his mom and asks.

“It was a part of the Christmas address that year.” Sandy smiles softly at one of the truly wonderful memories she has of being a part of royalty in any way. “His father – your grandfather William – was a bit of a romantic. When Klaus wanted to propose, his father said that it would be inspiring for the people to have extra good news at the holidays. So Klaus proposed on Christmas Eve, and the nation was told the next day.”

The look on Sandy’s face nearly breaks Will’s heart. There was still a lot of love there, despite what happened between his parents and their relationship. “That’s great, mom.” He smiles at her, reaching over and squeezing her hand. “I definitely want to be the one to tell everyone when the time is right.” He glances back over to you. “I don’t know how yet, but I’ll make it exciting.” He knows he’ll have to practice in his mirror – the only public speaking he’s done was generally about the heaviness surrounding PTSD and seeking treatment, but he hopes he can use his skills for brighter, better things. “I’ll run my speeches by you first since you’re more well-spoken than I am.” He smirks.

“Were you planning on hiring me to be your chief speechwriter?” The playful grin you toss back at him comes just before the footmen appear as from nowhere to whisk away your empty plates and lay the course of fruit and cheese that serves as dessert at a typical formal luncheon. It’s nice to see him smile, and you are very willing at this point, to admit that you find the young king very handsome. Much more so than his self-important brother, though that is a bit of guilt that you can grapple with on your own. “We won’t have the luxury of waiting for Christmas to announce, either. I hope you don’t mind warm weather because we’re looking at a spring coronation and maybe a summer wedding.”

“Speech writer? No. Wife? Yes.” He grins. He throws his hands up quickly and scoots back a little to get out of the staff’s way while they clear the dishes and silverware, only to be replaced with dessert. Once the staff has disappeared again, he scoots himself closer to the table. “A summer wedding is fine with me. Is that something that people need to buy tickets for or something? Can I invite people that don’t have anything to do with the kingdom?” He gives you puppy eyes, and Sandy notices and laughs. Will would love nothing more than Benny, Santi, and Frankie at his wedding. That was his plan all along, if he were to ever find someone to spend his life with.

“Tickets? No.” The implication makes you shake your head as you take a sip from your refreshed wine. “The ceremony is televised across the country, and on our national news’s website. But you can invite your friends, if that is what you are asking. I’m sure it would raise even more questions if you did not.”

“Weddings here are fairly tradition heavy. There are a lot of things in the preparation that I need to do, too.” Sandy tells him, not wanting it to seem like something else daunting but wanting him to understand before she offers you a kind smile. “I have my pearls still, from when I married Will’s father. I think it would only be right that they went to you.”

Your eyes light up when Sandy offers the pearls to you, and Will thinks he sees the hint of a tear starting to form. It’s now when he does reach for your hand again and squeezes it tight. “I think that’s a great idea mom. They’re going to look lovely on her.” He’s nervous and honestly excited to marry you, to continue to get to know you and see how the two of you would operate as a team and maybe one day a proper couple. He has no idea what he’s in for wedding and marriage wise, but he’s at the point in his life where he was seriously considering getting serious with someone, and he’s grateful you were chosen.

******

“My word she is thorough!” You laugh at the next section of questions in Mademoiselle Thorn’s extensive questionnaire. You and Will have already been filling these pages out in the sitting room of his suite for nearly an hour and you’re only halfway through. The first few pages were clothing sizes, preferences for travel, and pertinent dislikes – but once you reached the areas of liked items, the survey became rather ludicrous. It’s clear she’ll be studying these pages like gospel later and distributing the information to those who need it, and you fully appreciate her dedication. “An entire page of food and drink questions.” Pen at the ready, you shoot him a grin. “Favourite cake flavour. I have no doubt this will appear as the highlight of the king’s birthday celebration in a few weeks’ time.”

Will blows a raspberry as he looks up at you sitting across from him. Some of these things he had never even considered before. Favorite fabric? Cotton I guess? “Thankfully that’s an easy one – chocolate with cream cheese frosting. What’s yours?” He leans forward, almost pretending he can see any of the answers on your questionnaire.

“Pound cake with lemon curd and berries.” Even saying it out loud nearly makes you salivate, as you carefully write out your own answer in the line provided to you. Considering his answer for a moment, you look up at him quizzically. “I don’t believe I’ve ever had cream cheese frosting before,” you admit, grinning at the shock on his face.

“Never?” He asks, setting his pen down. “I’m surprised. It’s pretty standard where I come from, but then again I’ve never had your favorite. Maybe we can have someone bake mini versions and sample?” He thinks that could be a cute not-really-a-date-but-sort-of date. “What did you put for the next question?” He jokes, feeling like he did in high school when he tried to cheat off his friends during pop quizzes.

“You can request it for whoever you like.” He isn’t used to just waving his hand and have his orders followed, and it’s a refreshing change from what you know had been standard in the palace until now. “The next one is…favourite ice cream.” You practically hum in delight. “Raspberry. Or chocolate. Preferably both together.”

“Not bad, not bad. I’m a cookie dough guy myself or if I’m feeling extra bold – peanut butter cup and a scoop of plain chocolate on the side.” He smiles at you, and it’s contagious. “I take ice cream very seriously. In fact,” he chuckles, “it’s my favorite breakfast during the summer.”

“Your favourite breakfast?” One incredulous eyebrow raises at him and you can’t help but giggle. “Weren’t you a personal trainer before this?”

“I was and ice cream for breakfast is one of my dirtiest secrets.” It’s not, but he’s not ready to tell you about Columbia and isn’t sure if he ever will be. “But summers North Carolina are brutally hot and sometimes my old window unit in the living room would quit working, so I had to do what I had to do.” He laughs. “My house was always hot in the summer months. I’m glad you’ll never have to stay there.” After seeing the impressive and immaculate grounds of the palace he’s almost embarrassed of his very modest and small ranch house back home. It was definitely dated and had always been a bachelor pad. He had purchased it after his contract with the military ended from a vet that never married, always content to party for a few decades.

“Your secret is safe with me.” You promise him, enjoying the way the day has progressed. He is easy to talk to. Charming in an effortless and rugged sort of way. And there is no sense in pretending that you don’t get a little bit of a thrill every time he touches you. “How about this one,” your eyes flick down to the next question listed. “Favourite sandwich. Americans are notorious for their sandwiches; you must have one.”

“Hmmm…” he thinks as he reaches across the table to run his fingers over the delicate ring around your finger. It’s tied in a bow like a promise and he wishes he was in on the secret. “If I’m in Philly it’s a cheesesteak, if I’m at home it’s a classic grilled cheese. But I like to add tomato slices and pesto. My buddy Frankie showed me that and I’ve been hooked ever since. You next…hmm…oh, this is a good one. Favorite late night snack?”

“Popcorn with parmesan cheese.” His calloused fingers are warm against your skin, trailing up and down the length of your hand now and making butterflies erupt in your stomach. “We…we, erm…” You clear your throat, cheeks hot with the embarrassment of letting yourself get flustered so easily. “We should get to the library. Elsie is expecting us.”

“Huh? Oh, right.” He stands up and offers his arm to you. “Lead the way, Plum.” He smiles as you lead him towards the library.

It’s a good distance from where the two of you had been but when you lead him through the doors he has an unreadable expression on his face. Amazement? Wonder? He almost feels like Belle walking into Beast’s library for the first time. He’s so distracted by his surroundings that he doesn’t notice the tiny, dark-haired librarian with big round glasses heading towards the two of you. She nods at you, proper greeting not needed in this space since the two of you had been close for years, but she curtsies to Will. “Hello, sire, it’s an honor to meet you. My name is Elsie.” She smiles.

“Mademoiselle Poincaré is the palace librarian, as well as a historian.” You explain, not quite letting go of his arm but loosening your grip a little in case he wanted to let your hand go. “She has also been my best friend for the last twenty years, so rest assured that anything you say in front of her is safe.”

“Yes,” Elsie smiles before looking back at you. “Erm, do you think we could have a moment to discuss something?” She asks you, hoping break news to you before telling the future king.

“Of course.” She looks concerned, so whatever it is can’t be good.

“I’ll wander.” Will laughs a little, pointing towards the seemingly endless stacks of books that you had passed by to reach the librarian’s office. “Come find me when you’re done? Unless I’ve disappeared behind a trick bookshelf by then.”

Elsie laughs nervously before leading you towards her office in the back. “So, I don’t know how to tell you this in any easier way, but I was reading through some documents today and…you and William will have to get married much sooner than we had anticipated. Like…within a few weeks soon.” She fidgets with the Anubis paperweight she kept on her desk. “I should have looked at documents closer. I’m so sorry. He’s very handsome though so maybe it’s not bad news?”

“What do you mean a few weeks?” The way Elsie’s features paled makes perfect sense now, as you can feel the blood practically drain from your face. “Parliament hasn’t even announced the date of his coronation yet, how can it possibly—” Your face drops when you connect the dots on the two things and you tip forward to let your cheeks crash into your hands. “Do you mean that in order for us to rule together, we have to be married before the coronation?”

“I’m afraid so,” she says nervously. “Historically speaking, most of the royals had been married before they were crowned, and our dearly departed was the only one to break that rule in centuries. After he took the throne Parliament went and made sure it couldn’t be broken anymore. It was so deep in the documents I can’t believe I missed it. The two of you have two weeks to announce your engagement and plan a wedding, otherwise you won’t be able to rule with him. I have heard rumors just this morning that his coronation will be in less than a months’ time with no adjustments for extra time allowed…”

“Two weeks?” You can feel your eyes bulging out of your head as you stare at your friend across her desk. “That’s impossible. I mean completely and utterly impossible. A royal wedding in under a month is…goddamnit, Els, the whole idea is fucked now, isn’t it?” No one in the world has heard you curse besides Elsie and your siblings, but this is definitely a time that calls for it.

“I know!” She places her palms on her cheeks, pushing her glasses higher on her face. “I wish I had seen this sooner! I feel at fault for this. It is bullshit.” Elsie wasn’t much for cursing outside her home, just like you, but this definitely called for it. “Minna doesn’t even know yet, and I have to tell her today. I’m scared for my safety.” She tries to joke. “Do you think William will be upset by this? I know he is not used to this kind of life, being raised in America and serving his country.”

“I don’t know.” Your hand strikes out for one of hers, grasping at comfort. “I barely know the man. He’s kind, and seems terribly sincere, but I have no idea how he will take this. At lunch we were talking like we had whole months to go before even having to announce an engagement, this is…” All the books and papers spread out across her desk make you frown. “You’re not responsible for any of this, darling. I just wonder if there is any precedent we can use to push back against the timing. Something about the minimal length of an engagement or an arbitrary detail of the coronation we can use to push it back even an extra two weeks.

“I’ve looked through everything and I don’t see a way around this. It’s like it was written in stone. Do you want me to break the news to William? I would not want him being upset with you for this.” She offers. “Minna too. I can talk to Minna.”

“I will leave the inimitable Mademoiselle Thorn to you, but that man out there is my responsibility.” Though you do sigh deeply and squeeze her hand for support. “We have a cover story we’ll be using,” you tell her quietly. God forbid anyone should walk by. “He was in New Orleans around the time that we were a few years ago. We’ll say we met there but lost touch, and consider ourselves lucky to be reunited. I’m sorry to have to ask you to lie for me, but you know that an arranged marriage with a monarch who barely knows his country in the twenty-first century will go over like a lead balloon. A small, harmless lie will help him immensely.”

“I’ll do it for you,” Elsie smiles, squeezing your hand back. “Our friends met his friends and we hit it off for a blissful weekend of fun. We can even say I had a brief romance with one of his friends, yeah?” She laughs. “Just to make it more…I don’t know romantic? Like it’s kismet that you’re both here now.”

“You just like American military uniforms.” You tease, pinching her and managing a smile. “Will you email me your sources tonight after you are no doubt walloped by Minna? Poor thing is going to have so much work to do if he still wants to go forward like this.” And you will, too, but you’re trying desperately not to think about it.

“Uniforms, dark eyes and beards. Guilty,” Elsie giggles. “Yes, I already have a folder of files drafted for you. I’m just going to double and triple check to make sure I have everything covered.” She jiggles the mouse to bring her computer back from sleep mode and glances at the e-mail she had already started to put together for you. “I’ll send them over soon. I think I’ll leave you here though and go track down Minna.” She takes a deep breath and straightens her back. “Let me know if you need me to intervene, okay?”

“I’m going to need ice cream and alcohol.” The hug you give her is fierce and crushing, in the face of being scared witless. “Things just keep getting more and more chaotic. Bonne chance, Els.” You sigh before letting her go and stepping out in search of wherever Will had buried himself in the rows upon rows of bookshelves.

“You got it. I’ll stop at the gelato place downtown after work and then we can eat our feelings. Bonne chance à toi.” She returns the hug and makes a quick exit out of the library. Her iPhone gripped tightly in her hand as she types out a text frantically to Minna.

Will peaks his head around a large bookshelf and raises an eyebrow before walking over to you. “I just saw Elsie escape like a bat out of hell. Everything okay?” He asks, placing a hand on your shoulder.

“Not really, no.” The last thing you want to do right now is deliver more bad news to him, and you swallow another sigh before it can escape you. No time like the present. Time to rip off the bandage. “Elsie’s research turned up something we didn’t anticipate. In order for us to rule together, we would need to be crowned together. And in order to be crowned together…we—Will, we would need to be married first.”

“Okay…that’s no problem.” He’s confused and isn’t sure why that would be considered bad news. “I thought that was the plan?”

“The issue…” You hate that you cannot even keep his gaze, looking down at both of your shoes instead. “Is that Elsie heard Parliament wants you crowned within a month.”

“So…we’d have to get married in a month?” He looks at you, unsure of why you’re suddenly afraid to look at him. In all the time he had known you, which, granted wasn’t long, you had not been shy about direct eye contact.

“Precisely.” When he still does not take his hand away, You glance upward. “We need to find out if Parliament really wants you crowned that quickly. If they do, it’s going to be a mad dash to get everything done in time.”

“I mean…that’s really fast…but…” He pauses and takes a deep breath, taking his free hand and putting it over his mouth – his mouth morphing his face to a bewildered expression. “Fuck, okay. I mean my whole life has been turned upside down in less than forty-eight hours so why not?” He chuckles. If this was a dream, he’s sure he would have woken up by now. “Shit.” He chuckles out of nervousness and maybe frustration. “Her running away makes sense now. Alright, let’s do it. Let’s plan this wedding in less than a month.”

“She ran away because she had to go tell Mademoiselle Thorn.” You huff slightly, not envying your best friend’s talk in the least. But when you look at Will again, he seems staunchly determined. “You know you have an alternative, don’t you?” It’s his decision to make, and although you have grown surprisingly attached of the idea of a shared crown since only this morning when it was suggested - there is just so much good you could do if you were allowed - it is not the only pathway for his future. “You don’t have to share the crown with me, Will. You can rule on your own, and I will still be your consort when you feel the time is right.”

Will takes a moment to think, not taking his eyes off you. “I don’t want to rule without you though. I don’t think I’m capable of doing any of this without you. I just…” He doesn’t want to say he’s attached just yet, even though he is. “I know you’d be great at it, and I’m not going to be the one to take it away from you…”

“I wouldn’t have it at all, without you,” you remind him gently. “Frederick had no intention of sharing anything more than meals with me. The idea of actually having me be more than a walking womb began entirely with you, at breakfast this morning.” And it touches you in a way that you can’t quite express – whether it’s that no one else has ever thought you could do this, or the fact that he’s putting the good of the people before selfishly wanting to be king, or both, or even something else altogether. Whatever the reason is, you reach out softly and touch his arm in reassurance. “If Parliament wants you crowned quickly, then we’ll come up with a proposal for them. Coronations are national holidays and so are royal weddings. Maybe we can convince them to let us do it in one weekend. Have the wedding celebration the day before the coronation. It would be a lot, but it would be a festival weekend for the people, and I think we could manage it.” Even trying to think of the logistics makes your heart pound, but you know you won’t be alone in trying to get it done. You’ll have entire teams, and you’ll have each other. Surely that counts for something?

“You are way more than just a walking womb,” he says as he places a hand on your cheek. “If Miss Thorne hasn’t completely lost her head by now, I say we bring up the festival weekend to her and see what can be done. You can pick any themes or color schemes you want - just tell me where to be and when and I’ll be the goofy looking guy at the altar.” He smiles, rubbing his thumb under your eye.

“It will be Parliament that we sell this idea to, not your assistant. Although I fear the amount of work she’ll be put to if they agree.” The warmth of his hand seems to dip into the very marrow of your bones, melting you a little. “If this is how you want it to happen…I already promised that I would not let you fail. We will stand up and say our vows and hold our crowned heads high.” And you will absolutely not permit yourself to think about being called to his bed until all of it has actually happened…

“Then that’s what we’ll do. Let’s do this, Plum.” He smiles and takes his hand off your face, the absence of your warm skin under his palm affecting him more than he would like to admit. “Should we go see if Elsie needs help?”

“I would not be a very good friend if we did not.” Although the thought of facing his upset assistant does make you more unnerved than you’d like to admit.

It’s not long before the flustered assistant and nervous librarian make their way back to where you and Will are; Minna and Elsie having a hurried conversation in French. “Je n’arrive pas à croire que nous ayons manqué cette information importante. Cele va l’effrayer.” I can’t believe we missed this important piece of information. This is going to scare him off. Miss Thorn says in a hushed tone as she sees the two of you over my a large shelf of books.

“Je sais, je me sens comme un si mauvais ami pour ne pas l’avoir vu plus tôt.” I know, I feel like such a bad friend for not seeing it sooner. Elsie responds.

“Calmer. Calmez-vous, s'il vous plait. C'était son idée.” Calm down. Calm down, please. It was his idea. Thank god for your keen hearing, you can try to head the other two women off at the pass. “English, please, until his Majesty’s French is up to snuff.”

“So, I guess you heard?” Will asks Minna, worried that she’s either going to combust or start crying.

My apologies, your grace.” Miss Thorne says. “I did, and while I’m not thrilled that this information was written deep in the texts, I am glad Elsie found it. I can go to parliament and st—” She begins.

Will raises his hands to stop her. “We’ve kind of talked about it already. We were thinking having the wedding and then the coronation the following day. That way it’s all done at once and the people can have an entire weekend to celebrate.” He looks to you and smiles.

The idea takes her entirely off guard, but now she knows what you meant by, ‘It was his idea.’ “Well, now that we only have a few weeks we should start planning. You,” Minna Thorn points at you. “Need to choose a designer for your gown and you,” now pointing at Will. “Need to meet with the jewelers to find the emerald and settings you’d like to use for her ring.”

“I could help!” Elsie offers. “I know her taste in jewelry – we’ve been sharing pieces for years.” Will nods, accepting Elsie’s offer.

“I suppose I should put some thought into assembling my own staff, and submit my resignation to the Ministry of Education.” Your schedule is about to become exponentially busier at the drop of a hat, and you know you’ll need as much help as your alarmingly-soon-to-be husband will, just in other ways. Your eyes track to Minna’s, already buried in her agenda once more. “Will we have to argue the case to Parliament, or is there someone on the king’s staff better suited to that job?”

“I will take care of it.” Minna assures you. “I will discuss this with them and get the plans set in stone. You two just worry about yourselves and let me handle things.” She says confidently. She’s the most task-oriented and organized person you know, and you know she can handle this. “I will clear my schedule the rest of the day and call an emergency meeting.”

“Do you still have the list of candidates for the king’s assistant?” It’s a lot to do and not much time to do it in, so you can’t waste a single second. “If it’s at all possible, I’d like to review them and hire someone for myself.”

“Yes, right here. Resumes and references attached as well.” She reaches into her simple, yet stylish messenger bag and hands over the sealed manila envelope. “It’s alphabetized and the ones that stood out to me have sticky tabs on them. Elsie, I trust you’ll continue looking over documents to make sure we haven’t missed anything else?”

“Yes, of course.” Elsie nods, stepping around everyone and sitting back down at her desk.

“Excellent. Then I’m off to have a conversation with parliament.” Minna says as she smiles at the three of you and turns to walk out of the library.

“I’d say we all have our work cut out for us.” Looking around, you can see the lost expression on Will’s face clear as day. “Mademoiselle Thorn, if I might add one more thing to your plate?” You know she has a lot to deal with, but hopefully this is something she can delegate. “I’m sure the king would feel more comfortable with a few more familiar faces nearby. Can we arrange to have his closest friends put on the same flight as his brother?” One of your smaller hands finds Will’s beside you and you give him an encouraging smile as you gently grasp his hand. “You should call them. Get them out here for as long as they can stand it. You will feel less alone, and they should see how your life has changed.”

Minna makes a note in her phone. “I will have them fly in on the private plane with Benny. Just let me know when they are available and I’ll send the pilot.” She smiles and nods, happy that he will have a bit of comfort during this strange time of transition for him.

“That’s a good idea, Plum. I guess I’ll call them now so they can pack?”

“Do you remember the way back to your office?” He’s only walked these halls with an escort so far, so you’re trying your best to be helpful. “If not, I can walk you back. The Morning Room…which I suppose will be my own office soon enough…isn’t that far away.”

“I could use just one more reminder.” He offers his arm again, smiling as you loop yours through his. “Just for the sake of it.” He winks.

“Do you want me to stay with you while you call?” He had insisted you be there while he spoke to his brother, so the least you can do is offer.

“If you don’t mind overhearing how crude they’ll probably be.” He laughs. “I’ll make sure they’re on their best behavior while they’re here though.”

******

The two of you make it back to his office and he sits down on the couch, pulling the phone out of his pocket and dialing Catfish first. Frankie answers on the third ring. “Frank Morales.” Will says

“Ironhead!” Frankie’s surprise and relief are audible on the other end of the phone. “What the fuck man, you call Benny but you can’t call me and Pope? I showed up at your house the morning to help you clean up your goddamn yard as promised and you were just gone!”

“I’m sorry, Fish. Everything just kind of happened…you know? I’m sure Benny told you what’s been going on even thought I told him I would call you myeslf. Um. The reason I’m calling is to invite you here to Freidlyn. I’m…getting married and crowned within a month and I need you here.”

“You’re fucking what??” Asks the man in the other end of the call and you have to cover your mouth quickly to stifle your own laughter. It is a lot to take in. You’ll give him that.

“Yep. Getting married before the coronation so she can take the throne with me. What do you say though? Can you make it out? We’ll send a plane for you, Ben and Pope. It won’t cost you anything and you can stay as long as you’d like.” He doesn’t mention that he knows Fish will think that your librarian friend is cute, and maybe they could get lost in each other for a while. “I think you’d really like it here, Fish. What do you say?” He desperately wants Frankie to say yes, and he’ll beg his friend if he has to.

“Man…you know I would do anything for you.” The sigh from the other man does not sound enthusiastic though, and you lean closer to the speaker to listen. “It’s not like I have work to call out of or anything, it’s just…what about Xi? I can’t ask my mom to look after my bebita so I can go on an indefinite vacation. She would have to come along.” Frankie had had it the worst, coming back from Colombia to find divorce papers from his wife and his mother looking after his six-month-old daughter Xiomara.

“The palace has twenty-four-hour daycare.” You jump in, knowing it is impossible for Will to know the answer to this question. “Any moment you cannot be with her, she will be looked after by professionals. Please…please do not let that stop you.”

“Bring Xi and she’ll be well cared for when you’re not able to watch her. It can be a nice little escape for the two of you, I promise. Everyone here is so nice, and you won’t have to pay for a thing. You and bebita will be well taken care of.”

There is a moment of silence hanging in the air before the man on the phone clears his throat. “Is that her?” He asks, knowing Will had had a woman with him when he called Benny earlier in the day.

“It is…she’s amazing. I think you’ll get along really well.” Will glances over at you and smiles. “She’s been so helpful and supportive, and I’m actually excited about all of this now.”

“I’m sorry to have blurted that out and startled you,” you nearly reach out to the phone as though the man himself were there for you to touch. “It’s just…I truly believe Will should have his friends with him for everything that’s coming. It’s a lonely thing, to change your life all at once.”

“I appreciate you saying that, honey.” Frankie tells you honestly. “I wouldn’t miss this for the world. Just let me know where to be and when and Xi and I will be there.” Frankie was all too familiar with his life changing drastically at once. He had gone through so much over the last year and was ready for a break.

“Thanks, Fish. I’ll text you the details as soon as I get them from Miss Thorn.” The boys continue to chat for a minute before hanging up. “Onto Santi then…” He smiles as he scrolls through his list of recent calls. Santi nearly answers right away. “Pope!”

“William the fucking Conqueror.” Pope’s laugh is jovial and loud. “I was wondering when you’d get around to calling. Benny got in touch this morning.”

“Hey man. More news for ya – I’m getting married and then will officially be king in a few weeks. You down for a visit? Private plane, full amenities, and you can stay as long as you’d like…” Unlike Frankie, Pope had a full-time job and he wasn’t sure if his friend would be able to make it on such short notice.

“Depends, pendejo. Do I get to stay at the palace?” Pope is not taking a single shred of this bullshit seriously. Not when the pranks pulled by the Miller brothers are always so fucking legendary. “And I’ll need first dibs on hot bridesmaids.”

Will laughs. “You can stay at the palace, but I can’t promise bridesmaids.” He makes a face at you as a way of apologizing for his friend. You giggle at how cute it is. “Fish already said he’d come, and you know Benny is too so…make up your mind and I’ll give you flight details.”

“What’s the punchline, Miller? I show up at the airport and Fish has a remote-control helicopter in the parking lot?” He huffs and his shrug is practically audible. “You can do better than that.”

“Do you play a lot of pranks or are your friends just naturally suspicious?” You whisper, raising an eyebrow at the man next to you.

“I promise this isn’t a prank, Pope. I’ll turn on my fuckin’ camera right now so you can see I’m not kidding. I wouldn’t joke about this.” He places his hand over the microphone. “We play a lot of pranks on each other, so I don’t blame him for not believing this is actually happening.” He sighs, pressing the FaceTime option on his phone and waits for Santi to accept. “See?” He moves the phone around the grand office before standing up and going over to the window to show Santi the grounds to the best of his ability. “I’m not bullshitting you, man.”

“Puta madre…” Pope – like the good Catholic boy his call sign implies he is – is practically crossing himself as various curses fall from his lips. “Madre de Dios, Ironhead, what the fu—” he huffs out a long sigh. “Just tell me where and when, man. I’ll make it work.”

Minna barges through the door at that very moment – an eerie talent she seemed to have – and hands you a slip of paper with flight details for the following day. She says nothing and walks out with purpose, on her way to talk to parliament about the upcoming plans.

“I know.” He says before glancing at the note in your hand. “Looks like you’ll fly out tomorrow morning. It’s a long flight, so you’ll be able to get some rest, and the plane is comfortable. If you need to work, I’m sure we can set up a space for you in your room for meetings and whatever else. Pack your Sunday best and make sure Fish doesn’t panic flying with his baby, please.”

“First time on a plane cooped up with her favourite tíos?” Pope coos, his absolute adoration for his goddaughter obvious instantly. “We’ll wear her out and she’ll nap over the ocean. Everything will be fine. Text me if you need us to pick up anything from your house, okay hermano?”

“Thanks man, I really appreciate you being able to come. I’ll send the exact details here in a second to the group chat. I’m really looking forward to seeing everyone.” Will and Pope say their goodbyes before hanging up. “So, that’s the guys.” He laughs nervously as he looks at you. “They’re…a lot but they’re good people and I’ll make sure they’re on their best behavior.”

“They sound far more interesting than most of the people I know,” you offer, placing a hand on his arm reassuringly before turning and cracking open the file with resumes for royal assistants that Minna had given you. “I’ll make sure that their rooms are close together, and that there is hot food ready for them when they arrive tomorrow night. What time are they supposed to arrive? Maybe we can ask the kitchen to hold our dinner so everyone can sit down together.” It’s a small gesture, technically, but in meaning it’s large. “I know they’ll want to interview me, so to speak. And I don’t blame them one bit.”

“That would be great. Knowing them they’ll be starving and have a million questions.” He looks down at the flight itinerary. “Looks like they get in around 6PM so you’ll have time to prepare for the chaos that is them. I think you’ll like Xi too, she’s the cutest baby in the world and what happened with Frankie’s ex is so shitty. She just…left. I’m glad they’ll all be close together, just in case he needs help with anything, you know?” He rambles, nervous about his friends meeting his betrothed. He knows they’ll adore you, but he also worries you won’t feel the same about them.

“We’ll make sure that your friends and your brother have everything they need,” you promise him, knowing that their first impressions of his new home will also be their first impressions of you as well. This is not a moment to lay down on the job.

“You really are the best, Plum. Thank you.” Will takes your hand and squeezes it. “They’re going to absolutely fall in love with you.”

The smile that you summon is honest, and you’ll squeeze his hand back for encouragement. How can you possibly tell him that the only person you’re worried about falling for you is him?

______

Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @katheriner1999 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @hardc0rehaylz @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri

NA: @absurdthirst @peachtreemoonshine @xoxabs88xox @luminescentlily @babypink224221

My Masterlist!

#Charlie Hunnam #Charlie Hunnam fanfic #Will Miller #Will Miller x reader #Will Miller x you #Will Miller x female reader #Triple Frontier #Triple Frontier fanfic #Princess Diaries au #Royalty au #William Ironhead Miller #Freidlych for Life #Freidlyn #arranged marriage

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goddess-aelin · 2 years

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Rowaelin Month: Day 4

Prompt: Royalty/Modern Royalty AU

@rowaelinscourt

Main Masterlist

Little Did I Know Masterlist

A/N: I highly recommend reading the prologue of this fic before starting the first chapter. Hope you enjoy the beginning of this semi-Princess Diaries- AU.

Chapter 1: The Ball

Aelin wanted everyone to leave her alone. She felt like a pathetic worm and frankly, she didn’t want anyone to try and change that. Perhaps a queen didn’t wallow. But she wasn’t a queen yet. And nor would she be unless she found someone to marry her in the next four months.

The news was shocking, to be sure. Aelin went into the weekly court session intending to learn all she could about the inner workings of her kingdom. She came out with a bit more than she bargained for, thanks to the Lords of Terrasen. She always knew the Lords were traditional but she never in her wildest dreams imagined that they would force her to marry. What would her parents or uncle say if they were still here?

Aelin shook those thoughts away quickly. It was no use wondering. No matter what she did, nothing would change. So before she gracefully accepted her fate, she was going to lay in her nice, fluffy bed and wallow a little bit longer.

A gentle knocking woke her a few hours later, Lysandra breezing into her room and throwing open the curtains.

“Up, up, up. C’mon, Aelin.”

It was all she could do to offer a groan. She did not appreciate the light streaming into her room, nor her friend’s peppy attitude on this horrid day.

Lysandra sat next to her on the bed, slowly and gently stroking Aelin’s wild nest of hair. “I know what happened. I’m truly sorry, Aelin.” A tension filled pause took the place of her friend’s quiet voice. “Darrow asked me to get you ready. He would like to speak to you as soon as you’re ready.”

“What if I’m never ready to speak to him? Or anyone for that matter? What if I just stay in my rooms forever. Then they can never make me marry.”

“I know.” And she did. Before Lysandra was Lady Lysandra and Aelin’s best friend and stylist, she was an orphan in the streets of Terrasen. Lysandra had told Aelin the horrors she had to endure to survive. Yet still, she took everything with a grace and beauty becoming a queen. Maybe Lysandra could have her position. Aelin quickly shuffled the thought away, though. She loved her country and she would do whatever it took to keep her people safe. And if she could help to create a better world where people like Lysandra weren’t forced to sell their bodies to put food on the table, then she would consent to an arranged marriage.

She allowed Lysandra to help her out of bed and push her into the shower that was so desperately needed. And when Aelin emerged, she allowed Lysandra to primp and prod her, turning her into a future queen, even if her insides were still in turmoil. She would meet Darrow and she would let no one else know how badly this news was affecting her. It would only give the Lords more satisfaction. More power over her. And she would not allow that.

Aelin met Darrow in his spacious but modest office, noting Lord Hamel sitting on a lounge chair to Darrow’s right and Lord Gunnar to his left. Aelin felt as if she were walking into an intervention, her death waiting to be tolled out.

It was Darrow who spoke first. “Aelin, my dear. How are you feeling?”

Aelin felt her curated mask slip into place. “I’m fine, Darrow. And yourself?” She knew her tone was terse but she couldn’t help herself. She reminded herself that Darrow was not to blame. As for the other two lords…well, she could not say the same.

“I’m sure you’ve guessed by now why we called you down here.” Aelin gave a nod to Darrow’s careful words and tight face. With that nod, Darrow got right down to business.“There are a few options we can take here. First off, do you have anyone that you would choose to fill the role of your husband?”

No. It was the first thing Aelin thought of as she ran from the council room to the safety of her quarters. She had a few lovers in the past but none that stuck. She would have never been allowed to marry Sam even if they had ended on better terms, Dorian had his own kingdom to run now that his father passed away, and Chaol had just gotten engaged to a beautiful, sweet healer named Yrene. She had no other prospects, especially ones that she felt could carry a conversation to intrigue her. So Aelin simply shook her head.

“Ok. So an arranged marriage will need to be set up. Unless this stipulation changes your mind about wanting to take the throne? In which case, Lord Arobynn here will become king.” Aelin swallowed loudly. That would only happen over her dead body. She again shook her head no, not trusting her voice not to waver. She didn’t look over at Lord Hamel, yet could feel a cold ire radiating from him at her denial of abdication. Lord Hamel had always been power hungry, always rising through the ranks and putting his nose where it didn’t belong. She wasn’t sure exactly what it was about him that she didn’t like but a chill went down her spine every time that his eyes met hers.

Darrow took her hands, noticing how they trembled slightly. Something she was hoping the other lords in the room did not notice. “I have a list of a few different eligible princes and titled nobility, all of them foreign born. I figured that you would feel most comfortable having prospects around your age range so all of these candidates are aged from 21-28. I would prefer that you had a chance to look over each of these profiles prior to anyone making any decisions.” For that, she was grateful. At least she had some semblance of a choice. But she wasn’t sure if a choice made a difference when she didn’t even know what these candidates’ voices sounded like. Or what their favorite color was. Or how they felt about the current state of affairs. She supposed these were all things that she could learn with time, but time was not on her side.

“While I want you to look at these, Aelin, I do have a suggestion to consider as well as a recommendation on what we do should you not find a match soon. You know that our bonds with Doranelle have been strained since Orlon’s death.” Aelin nodded that she understood. “While I don't want to push you into choosing the Doranelle prince, I am asking you to consider the implications a marriage contract with Doranelle could have. If it’s amenable to you, I would like to have this prince come and stay with us at the castle. At best, you get to know him and perhaps you find him suitable. And at worst, we get a chance to talk trade with him.” Aelin gave her assent and was about to thank her uncle when Arobynn interrupted.

“Why stop at these options, Lord Darrow? Why don’t we throw a ball in Aelin’s honor. Perhaps an early celebration of her 21st birthday. We invite eligible bachelors from all over the country, perhaps some nobility and princes, and she will be able to choose for herself who she likes best.”

Aelin didn’t know what to say. It was so unlike Arobynn to be on her side, to offer up this tiny choice. While she was wary that his offer held an ulterior motive, she couldn’t deny that it would be nice to be able to meet some of these matches face to face. Darrow sighed, knowing already that Aelin would agree.

He relented, “Two weeks. That is when we will hold the ball. Anyone who is able to make it will be welcome and if they can’t then it doesn't matter. I do not wish to pressure you, Aelin, but we are on a time crunch. So I would like to know your choice of match the day after. If you meet a suitor at the ball, then we will set up a contract as soon as possible. If not, then you will consider the Doranelle match. Do we have an agreement?” Leave it to Darrow to give her a choice that wasn’t really a choice. Wasn’t he the one just telling her that it was ok if she didn’t want to marry the Doranelle prince? Yet it was also him that was forcing her hand into marriage with this unknown man. She’d show Darrow, she’d get her choice. The only problem was that she just had one night to do it.

- - - - -

The two weeks following the meeting with the Lords passed quickly and the ball was upon Aelin before she knew it. While normally she would be excited to attend an event where there would be copious amounts of dancing and gorgeous ballroom gowns, she was anything but for this ball. The pressure of knowing all eyes were on her was nothing compared to the pressure of knowing that she only had this one night to find a match. Otherwise, she could kiss her free choice goodbye.

Lysandra helped her to get ready, detailing a half-up, half-down, braided style with small barrettes with gems attached. Her dress was the deepest emerald, glittering slightly in the light thanks to the tiny rhinestones attached to the bodice and the sparkly tulle draped over the skirts. She was a princess, but tonight she truly felt like one, too. Especially thanks to the crown she now wore. Her mother’s old crown was a vibrant gold, shaped delicately to give the illusion of antlers rising from the crown of her head. An emerald shone from the middle, mirroring the gleaming beauty of her dress.

She made her way downstairs, clutching Lysandra’s hand like a lifeline. She was grateful that her friend was allowed to attend the ball with her. Elide would also be in attendance, though Aelin knew that her focus needed to be on finding a husband and not conversing with her friends.

The night started slowly, thankfully. She was introduced and approached casually by a few unremarkable men. If she was being honest, she didn’t know their names nor did she particularly care. They did not have the making of king-consorts. Her dance partners continued to be unremarkable except for their variance in ages. Old men, young boys, men who could barely stand without their canes were just a sampling of the few who approached her. Some interesting dancers, too, though she couldn’t say that was a compliment.

Her night took a turn for the worse as she felt hands slither along her sides, pulling her into a too-tight embrace for normal ballroom dancing. A shiver wracked her spine as she knew before she turned who the hands belonged to. “Are you having fun, Princess?” Arobynn’s slimy voice reached her ears over the din of the music and crowd. She could smell the wine on his breath due to his close proximity.

“Lord Hamel, I know that you are aware that I must mingle with eligible bachelors so if you’ll excuse me, I must get back out there.”

His hands tightened on her waist as she tried to make her escape. “Aelin, have you considered just marrying someone inside your own country? Who would rule Terrasen better than one of her own citizens?”

Aelin was confused for a moment. Was he talking about himself? “Imagine what a pair we would make, you and I, Aelin. Imagine the things we could get done with you on the throne and me by your right hand side.” Arobynn leaned in even closer, if it was possible. To say she was skeeved out would have been an understatement. Arobynn’s hands on her waist, his breath huffing at her cheek, the smell of the spirits on his tongue were too much. Her breath came in short pants as she tried to extract herself from him. But he wouldn’t let go.

Suddenly, a tanned hand appeared on Arobynn’s shoulder, pulling him slightly away from her. Aelin was so grateful that she sucked in a deep breath while trying to be inconspicuous about it. She would not let her people know that she was scared.

“Mind if I cut in?” Her savior’s deep voice filled her ears and made her heart sing. She wanted to say it was just because he saved her from a potentially horrible situation, but as she looked at him, she couldn’t help but notice how beautiful this stranger was. His tanned skin shone beautifully in the lowlights of the ballroom, his green eyes gleaming and matching the color of her dress almost perfectly. She thought she spotted a tattoo peeking out from the collar of his tux but she couldn’t be sure.

Aelin took Arobynn’s momentary distraction as a chance to free herself from his vice grip, taking the hand of the stranger. Before she could fully flee, Arobynn grabbed her wrist one last time. “We can continue this conversation later, Aelin.” Feeling safer now that the beautiful stranger was near, she held her head a little higher and pushed back her shoulders to look back at Arobynn. “Please address me as ‘Your Highness’, Lord Hamel.” With a dip of her chin, she gripped the stranger's hand and let him lead her onto the dance floor.

They were silent as they swayed back and forth slowly, the music a simple yet lovely melody. She allowed the music to soothe her and calm her nerves that were so graciously stirred up by Arobynn. The stranger’s hand on her waist grounded her while she tried to forget the feeling of another’s hands on her waist.

With a deep breath, Aelin quietly murmured, “Thank you.” A small smile crossed the man’s face and he dipped his head slowly.

As their eyes met, he asked, “Does he do that often?”

Aelin wasn’t sure what to say. Did he? Not necessarily. But she was right to feel creeped out all those other times. With a sigh, she replied, “Not really. I’m not sure exactly what that was. But thank you for saving me from that.”

“It was my pleasure, Your Highness.” Aelin chuckled at that, her parting words to Arobynn running through her with glee.

They settled into an easy silence. She wanted to know his name but she didn’t want to break this beautiful trance they were in. The music and movement swept her into what felt like a dream.

As the song ended, Aelin couldn’t help but feel disappointed. The one man that she felt a possibility with didn’t seem inclined to ask her for another dance as his hand dropped hers and he stepped away. He gave a small bow with a murmured “Your Highness,” before turning on his heel and heading toward the exit.

The rest of Aelin’s night passed uneventfully. She had no more prospects than when she began the evening, all of her dance partners falling short after dancing with the mystery man. She made her way up to her room with a heavy heart, knowing that her last semblance of choice was gone.

Tomorrow she would have to break the news to Darrow, who she was sure was just waiting in the shadows to introduce her to the Doranelle prince. She hadn’t found it in herself to look at the files Darrow offered her, hoping that tonight would be successful and she wouldn’t have to worry. But instead, she laid in bed, worrying about her future. And when she slept, she dreamt of emerald eyes as gleaming as the stones on her dress.

- - - - -

The next morning, Aelin was summoned to Darrow’s office, though this time it was just the man in question present. The other lords were not there to witness the embarrassment of telling Darrow that she was prospectless. Which was true, despite her wonderful dance partner last night. How could she explain that there was a man but she didn’t know his name or where he was from. This wasn’t going to be a Cinderella situation where they scoured the country for every man with green eyes and silver hair.

So she agreed to meet the Doranelle prince and when Darrow told her that he was waiting in the entrance of the castle, her heart sped up. She thought she might have some time to prepare herself. But it looked like Darrow was just going to throw her to the wolves.

They made their way down to the entrance, Aelin hoping that she looked a little presentable for a future husband. She wasn’t sure what one wore to meet their potential royal, arranged-spouse. She heard quiet voices murmuring before laying eyes on the stranger from last night. Aelin’s brow furrowed in confusion.

“Aelin, please allow me to introduce Prince Rowan Whitethorn of Doranelle.”

Rowan bowed slightly. Aelin was supposed to curtsey but she was still frozen in place. The wheels in her mind wouldn’t stop turning. How was it fair that he knew? He knew exactly who she was last night and what she would be forced to do, yet he said nothing? He did not introduce himself. He did not talk much to her. He did not warn her.

A rational part of Aelin knew that it wasn’t necessarily his fault and noted that he did swoop in to save her. But the angry part of Aelin, the part that was so frustrated with this shitty situation and the fact that she wasn’t able to rule her own country because of some misogynistic rule, was so angry with him. How dare he make her have a good time? How dare he make her feel like some lovesick puppy only to crush those silly fantasies the next day.

Aelin mustered the courtesy of at least grinding out a terse, “Prince Whitethorn,” and a slight dip of her head. Rowan’s eyes narrowed and a flash of coldness entered his features. As if she was in the wrong here. Maybe she was. She knew she wasn’t being very princess-like at the moment. But her anger and resentment won out and she found herself turning away from the small gathering towards her rooms. She could hear Darrow muttering apologies to the Prince and his entourage but she couldn’t find it in herself to turn around. Her pride was wounded and she did not often recover quickly from that.

As Aelin made her way to her room, she felt tears pricking the corners of her eyes, though she willed them not to fall. She would not cry over this. She would not let this impossible situation ruin what she worked so hard to achieve. She could and would deal with whatever was thrown her way. But as she crawled into her bed, she thought maybe she would deal with it tomorrow.

Tagging: @cretaceous-therapod @morganofthewildfire @tomtenadia @live-the-fangirl-life @charlizeed @violet-mermaid7 @euphoric-melancholyy @kritical24 @rubyriveraqueen @dealfea @maeclin @ayaashryver @anna-swims @leiawritesstories @whoever-you-choose-to-love @holdthefrickup @kyereads @heirofflowers @bananaanna23 @thecrispypotatochip @shanias-world @rowanaelinn @bruiseonthefaceofhumanity @hanging-from-a-cliff @fantacysoup @swankii-art-teacher @thegreyj @fromthelibraryofemilyj @westofmoon @lovely-dove-zee

#rowaelin #rowaelin fanfic #rowaelin fanfiction #rowaelinmonth #rowaelinmonth2022 #rowaelinscourt #rowan whitethorn #Aelin galathynius #tog #throne of glass #throne of glass fanfiction #tog fanfiction

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cornus27florida · 11 months

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I've touched a bit about it on Discord but yeah, about your green-eyes theory: what if the Clam doesn't suck the life out of green-eyed humans, but it gives all its power to them? Can you imagine? It would be even worse than Nell!! Or if Frederick has so much knowledge (even if it's only 1 time in a blue moon), he would be able to guide the Pastel Princesses to their Mom's homeland :'D ! (among other things)

-> this already touched in discord actually, and first of all I am really sorry to put off on halt for too long and decides to let go perfectionism of long post and trying to summarize instead. Here my Answer: I could totally imagine it! New AU of Oracle!Frederick [imagine blondie Apollo, the greek god of prophecies - that's what I imagine him will be like TBH]. Oracle!Frederick with the power of the Omniscient Clam now has 'unlimited knowledge' that could answer any question each full moon night (like a werewolf curse?) which make him kinda lost his sanity and becomes 'enlightened' to answer the asker at that night, and at the end of the QnA session he living up his 'little prince' final scene of 'convulsed as he's like dying' - which might be worse than Nell's convulsion, but fortunately the Rose (Gwen) could calms him down given the time. So there's the gist of Oracle!Frederick, he'll give answers to eager to be cured or much needed cure (like Abbi, Renée, Sally) and leads the Pastel Family to their mother's homeland but with good intention of civilization exchange [remember Lilyth's Diary part 1? the Islander hope Jack gives new knowledges but as he's not bright - welp - but this time probably?!]

TIMELINE SENTENCES OF THE ORACLE!FREDERICK

During cleanup scenes after big conflict resolved, Frederick that princess carried awaken Gwen to escape meet Jack with the Clam outside

the Clam somehow gives off it's power to Frederick (how it transferred could make him truly a plant boy by giving wreaths of laurels in his head like Apollo)

Leland taking over the Clam but found out it's lost power, the Clam as powerless (except still could communicate) mocked him

starting by Gwen, everyone starts protecting Oracle!Frederick espc the CPC

CPC invites Frederick to be their official newest member, the night the Clam could give answer is the same night of his Slumber party

Everyone declines the offer of Omniscient chance, instead encouraging Frederick to understanding his power more

including Nell, which have chat about how similar they are as used to be locked up and have premonition ability ~ which for Frederick to be truly safe is him being an Oracle should be hidden and he should life normally doing what he wants

what Frederick wants is the same with what everyone encourages, living ordinary but happily with people that cares him espc Gwen. Although he still want to help others and as being Oracle with unlimited power, he could now help the CPC members find the cure of their curse although with limitations the same as the Clam

the conclusion end: Frederick learns that his power as Oracle like the Clam, which he used to help people secretly in safe Haven of CPC in the Pastel Kingdom - but the after effect when using the Clam power is like the little prince scene each time he's using knowledge to answer the asker, he'll look as is he's dying.. which where Gwen and others there to Calms him down to sleep.

in the far/near future Frederick 2ill be the wiseful king that living up his meaning name as a "peaceful ruler" - with curse problem kinda fixed while his existence is a well-kept secret, he living normally as possible, together with Gwendolyn and the family they build together

#cursed princess club #theory #Oracle!Frederick #I am sorry for putting off quite long there #Also hope it quite satisfying answer there?

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hischiersjohnston · 1 month

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tagged by @draisaitleons

Make a new post with the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it! Then, tag as many people as you have WIPs

I actually have a bit sdfsdf I’ve written out some basic description bc it’s how I kept track of what’s going to happen lmao

The Hamilton Gastropub: Ever Wonder…?

Changing Kegs— Mitch’s curse with changing kegs ft. how he and Willy got together despite embarrassing himself

Customers Who Flirt with their Servers (Jack’s Version)— how Jack handles customers who flirt with him aka not very well

Customers Who Flirt with their Servers (Dawson’s Version)— how Dawson handles customers who flirt with him aka running away

Sending Drinks Back to the Bartender— ft Bitchy Leon and Willy and also Leon and Willy Friendship (might include some MattDrai too)

Witnessing a Workplace Hookup— Alex Holtz is traumatized after walking in on Gravy and Dougie at the Pub

Why Chefs Stay in the Kitchen— witness the chaos that Auston Matthews and Travis Konecny can cause and why they’re kept in the back

The Booth Requestors— Luke showing why he’s Jack’s younger brother as he deals with customers who requests booths

The Work Mom, Work Dad and the Work Son— Connor and Ryan with their work son, Dawson

Customers Who Flirt with their Servers (Joey’s Version Part 1)— Joseph Woll gets his own mini Love Story

Seeing Customers Flirt with their Partners (Ryan’s Version)— How does Nuge react to seeing someone flirt with Connor?

Seeing Customers Flirt with their Partners (Luke’s Version + Jonas and Nico’s Version)— basically the same as the previous one but with Luke, Jonas and Nico’s POVs

TBD— Anton and Sasha’s Love Story

TBD— Dougie and Ryan’s Love Story

Other Works in The Hamilton Gastropub Series:

Jack, Nico x Jonas’s love story— how they came together

Sid x Claude— Claude retires from hockey and becomes a bartender; Sid becomes his regular

Other Works:

Criminal AU: group of criminals who are forced to work together as secret agents a la Suicide Squad (Mitch as the hacker/thief), Connor as their mastermind, Willy as the grifter/thief, Leon as the muscle/grifter, Matthew as the ex con/weapons expert) and Leverage; based on an original series I had in mind

Royalty AU: the Hugheses found out that their deceased dad is the prince of a country and next in line for the throne before his untimely death; their cousin abdicates and now they gotta be trained to be princes (aka the Princess Diaries AU… sort of)

Tagging: @jonassiegenthighler @irrelevanttous and anyone else who wants to do this sdfdsf go wild! i’d love to see more of everyone’s WIPs pls

#me.#i have… a lot of ideas sdfdsf #wips.#the hamilton gastropub.

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a-chlolix-blog · 1 year

Text

Scarabée and Kitty Claws AU

Darkblade. The kakistocracy King.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chloé was in her luxurious room looking at herself in the mirror.

Adoring the absolutely beautiful Scarabée-themed dress she was wearing.

She then turns to her right and sees Scarabée walking towards her.

Scarabée: Hello, my priceless Princess~

Chloé: Itty-Bitty!

Feeling another's presence in the room, Chloé turns to her left and sees Alix.

Chloé: Ally-Kins?! What are you doing here?!

Alix: Chloé, I've seen ALL the incredible things you've been doing. I was hoping that you'd... be my girlfriend?

Chloé, blushing: Alix-

Scarabée, pulling Chloé to her by the waist: You've HAD your chance to show her how much you love her and now I'm here to love and adore her!

Alix: Superheroine or not, I WILL fight for you, Chloé! *magically summons an axe*

Scarabée, putting Chloé onto her bed: Don't want the prettiest Princess to get hurt.

Alix: That's one thing we can agree on.

Before Scarabée and Alix could fight over her, Chloé's alarm goes off, which immediately wakes her up.

Chloé, groaning before turning off the alarm: Noooo, did it HAVE to go off now?

Plagg: Why are you so bummed? Your dad's been reelected for the fourth time as the Mayor of Paris. The re-election party alone kept me happy ALL night.

Chloé: That's because you kept stuffing your little face with camembert the whole time. You were lucky you didn't get caught.

While Chloé was happy for her dad, she couldn't help but remember what the adults at the party talked to him about.

"Isn't the election for class representatives at your daughter's school tomorrow? She's gonna be a little you when she wins!"

"That' right! She's been class representative three years in a row. I bet she'll do an incredible job again this year!"

"You two are SO much alike! I bet her classmates adore her so very much. She'll win by a landslide, just like you André!"

While Chloé was happy for her dad, she never really liked running for class representative.

While Sabrina's help did make it noticeable more bearable, Chloé couldn't help but not be too fond of the responsibility.

Chloé, internally: Since I'm Kitty Claws now, I don't have time for it... THANK YOU, BLACK CAT MIRACULOUS!

While everyone else was watching Scarabée and Kitty Claws on the news, Nadja Chamack switches to another news report, stating that the previous day, André Bourgeois was reelected for the fourth time as the Mayor of Paris.

There were two different types of reactions.

The positive...

👑Princely Sunshine☀️: Congrats on your dad winning again, Chloé!

🐱Catty-Chlo💛: Thanks Adrien.

🧠BrainyBrina👓: What are we gonna do when you run for class representative again?

🐱Catty-Chlo💛: About that... I gotta talk to you about that when we're at school.

And the negative.

~~~~~At their respective homes~~~~~

Marinette, working on the box for her diary: Since Mr. Bourgeois won again, we gotta deal with another year of Chloé being Class Representative...

Nathaniel: This is gonna be a LONG school year.

Max: Unfortunately, there's a 95% chance that Chloé's gonna run for Class Representative again.

Rose: I'm sure she'll do better than previous years...

Juleka: She obviously won't be any better than previous years.

Luka: I'm happy I don't go to your school.

Kim: Aw man! I was looking forward to running this year too!

Ivan: I hope Mylène isn't gonna be too upset...

Mylène: I was really looking forward to running for Class Representative this year...

Alya: I haven't been here long, but I KNOW that "Chloé" and "Class Representative" don't mix.

Tikki, reading the group chat: Is Chloé running for Class Representative really that bad?

Alix, getting ready for school: You had to be there to see it, Tikki.

The news report returns, bringing with it the face of Armand D'argencourt, the losing candidate, who is also a fencing instructor at the Lycée.

Alix then picks up a familiar box and opens it again.

The black and light green silk choker that Kitty Claws gave her for her birthday not too long ago.

Alix, putting the choker on: Let's see if KC's gift gives me and the others some good luck today.

~~~~~At School~~~~~

In Miss Bustier's classroom, Chloé and Sabrina are standing in the front of the students.

While Sabrina's expecting the make the usual running for Class Representative announcement, the blonde shocks her as well as the whole class.

Chloé: I will not be running for Class Representative this year. Leading you losers around is so boring!

Sabrina and Adrien, incredibly shocked: What?!

Almost the entire class: *cheers loudly*

Miss Bustier: Are you sure, Chloé?

Chloé: Absolutely. *walks back to her seat and sits down*

Miss Bustier: Alright... would anyone else like to run for Class Representative then?

Marinette, Mylène, Rose and Kim, in unison: ME!!

The four friends looked at each other before they all started laughing.

Miss Bustier: This is so exciting! Four people running in one year? How fun!

Alix, whispering: Thank you, lucky choker.

After a (long) while of trying to get the class to calm down, Miss Bustier dismisses them for lunch, letting the class mull over its decision.

Marinette, Mylène, Rose and Kim were more than happy to talk about their ideas with each other, not even caring that they're all meant to go against each other.

Rose: This is gonna be so much fun!

Kim: I know right?!

Mylène: We actually get to think of campaign platforms!

Marinette: I already know what I'm gonna do! But it's a total surprise.

Not far from the four excited friends' table, Alix and Nathaniel watched them.

Alix: Don't think I've ever seen the four of them so happy during Class Representative elections.

Nathaniel: Can you blame them? The first year Chloé ran for Class Representative, Mylène was CRUSHED. Then the year after that, Rose was in tears after Chloé embarrassed her. And don't even get me started on what Kim went through last year when he decided to run against Chloé.

Alix, caressing her choker: I'm just happy those four get to have fun with it now.

Nathaniel, noticing the choker: Wait... is that the present Kitty Claws gave you?!

Alix, blushing: You shut it!

Nathaniel: You're wearing a choker that one of the two heroines of Paris gave to you for your birthday. We gotta talk about what's going on between you two!

Alix: There's NOTHING to talk about! Besides... I heard Marc's running for Class Representative in his class. Gonna give him your support? *smirks*

Nathaniel, now blushing as well: You shut it!

Alix: You started it!

The two tried to hold it in, but they couldn't help but to laugh with each other.

Little did the two know, Chloé was watching them both from afar.

Chloé, internally: SHE'S ACTUALLY WEARING IT!! *blushes*

Sabrina, walking up to her: Chloé? What happened in class?! Why aren't you running for Class Representative? You've ran for it and won since middle school!

Chloé, turning to face Sabrina: I just... didn't wanna do it anymore.

Adrien, walking up to them with his duffel bag over his shoulder: You always told me about how much fun you had as Class Representative. It's quite surprising that you wanna give that up.

Chloé: Is it so surprising that I want a change of pace this year?

Sabrina and Adrien, in unison: Yes!

Adrien, hearing his timer go off: I gotta go home and eat, then get ready for fencing practice. See you two later! *runs off*

Brigiette was watching Adrien leave.

Brigiette, internally: Oh Adrien... when I become Class Representative in MY class, I'll make sure our classes hang out all the time so you can see how incredible I am! But first... I have to deal with Marc.

Marc walks up to the table were Alix and Nathaniel are sitting and sits with them.

Marc: Hey guys!

Alix: Hey Marc.

Nathaniel, still blushing: Hey, Marc...

Alix: Heard you're running for Class Representative in your class.

Nathaniel: Are you nervous? I heard Brigiette's also in the running.

Marc: Not too much. Thanks to Marinette, I got an ace up my sleeve.

Alix, after finishing up her lunch: Good luck dealing with that one, I gotta get my stuff ready for LaCrosse practice later.

Nathaniel and Marc, in unison: See ya later, Alix!

~~~~~Later that day~~~~~

Alix was looking at her resent texts as she walked to LaCrosse practice.

❤️Best-Blogger📱: Let's hope your practice doesn't take too long. Marinette, Mylène, Rose and Kim have these cute Class Representative booths with their ideas all over them. Since one of Marinette's idea is to raise more money for a better school dessert menu, she’s gonna be quite popular.

💜Priceless Jule💎: Rose's idea for more comfortable chairs in the library is a sweet idea too.

📚Maximum-Mind🧠: While it could be exhausting, I do see Kim's idea to add an extra five minutes to classes that require physical activity as a good idea.

🎵Singing Softie🖤: Mylène's idea for better recycling for the class is a good one too!

🥇Alix the Awesome💥: Remember guys, when one of them wins, they'll make sure to fix in ALL their ideas.

On her way to there, Alix saw Nadja Chamack and her camera sneaking around the school.

Alix, internally: After yesterday's election, this could not end well. *follows them*

During his fencing class, Adrien is taken out by a remarkable attack from his coach, Mr. D’Argencourt.

Adrien, getting off of the floor: Ow! That's quite the attack, Mr. D'argencourt. Who taught you that?

Mr. D’Argencourt: This particular maneuver was developed by my ancestor, Darkblade.

Adrien, sarcastically: Darkblade? That doesn't sound like a super villain AT ALL.

Mr. D'Argencourt: Adrien, what did I say about the sass?

Adrien: Wait til after class.

Mr. D'Argencourt: Good, now on with the story. In the days of yore, Darkblade conquered Paris and ruled over it with an iron fist until he was overthrown fence by a wealthy Frenchman who used his dirty gold to buy the loyalties of the common people.

Adrien, internally: So... either option was bad and they chose the one they could actually survive with, got it.

Mr. D'Argencourt, not noticing that Nadja and the cameraman walking closer to him: To think not too long ago, my ancestors' flag was waving above Paris.

Nadja, holding up her microphone to his face: Is that why you ran for Mayor, Mr. D'Argencourt? To seek revenge on your ancestors' behalf?

Mr. D'argencourt, irritated: Who do we have here then?

Nadja: Nadja Chamack. Don't be bemused, it's just the news! Do you have anything to say about quote on quote "Landslide Defeat"?

Fred Haprèle, with Alix walking beside him: Hey! How did you get in this school?!

Nadja, pull her cameraman along: I think it's time to get back to the studio!

While Fred ran after Nadja and her cameraman, Alix walks up to Adrien and Mr. D'argencourt.

Mr. D'argencourt: We're ending the lesson for today. *walks away*

Alix and Adrien share a concerned look as the teacher left.

Hawkmoth senses Mr. D’Argencourt’s frustration and sends an akuma after him.

As Mr. D'Argencourt leaves the school, Nadja and her cameraman follow him while getting footage for the news.

When Mr. D’Argencourt bumps into a poster featuring Mayor Bourgeois, he angrily slashes it to pieces, surprising the news crew behind him.

The akuma then arrives and possesses his fencing sword.

Hakmoth: Darkblade. In return for the powers I've given you, you'll capture Scarabée and Kitty Claws' Miraculous for me.

Mr. D'argencourt: when the flag bearing the emblem of my ancestors lays again upon the roof of city hall, then to thee I shall be indebted! *transforms into Darkblade*

While he transformed, Nadja made sure her cameraman got the shot.

Nadja: A-anything you'd like to say about your transformation into a-

Darkblade: DARKBLADE! The Lord of PARIS!

Alix and Adrien watched as Darkblade transforms Nadja and her cameraman into knights before running back into the school.

Adrien: We gotta tell the others to barricade the school!

Alix: Our Class Representative candidates are running booths by the classrooms. You go tell them and I'll go tell as many people as I can on the other side of the school.

Adrien: Got it. Be careful, Alix! *runs off*

After Adrien's out of sight, Alix runs into the nearest girls' bathroom, which was fortunately empty.

Alix: You hear all that, Tikki?

Tikki, phasing through her duffel bag: Yeah I got all of that.

Alix: Good. Tikki, Spots On! *transforms into Scarabée*

Scarabée: This Akuma is quite the challenge. I should wait for Kitty Claws to show up.

~~~~~At Le Grand Paris~~~~~

Chloé was in her room painting her nails in a Scarabée inspired style.

Plagg: You'd really rather be here than at school checking out the booths?

Chloé: *rolls her eyes* You heard how happy they were to hear to I wasn't running for Class Representative this year. Why would I be there? Besides, with me here, they clearly won't have to worry about me sabotaging them or their precious booths.

~~~~~Back at Lycée Françoise Dupont~~~~~

While Chloé's class didn't have to worry about a cheating candidate, Brigiette's class wasn't so lucky.

While the other students from enjoyed the booths from Miss Bustier's Class Representative candidates, Brigiette snuck away to the lockers and picked Marc's locker open.

In it she saw his little book in an open rainbow box unfamiliar to her, but quite familiar to Marinette.

Brigiette: Yes! It's not in his bag this time! I bet his writes all his cringe stories in this. I could totally use this against him!

When Brigiette puts her hand in the box to pick up the book, the box closes down on her hand.

In a panic Brigiette manages to close the locker, lock it back up, and hid her trapped hand in her purse as she ran away.

By the time she made it back to the Class Representative booths with the others, she saw Adrien running towards her (and the MANY other students there).

Brigiette, internally: He's even more handsome while running!

Adrien, stopping in front of Alya: I think it's best that we don't leave the school for a bit.

Marc, walking up to him: Why is that?

Adrien: Me and Alix saw Mr. D'Argencourt get akumatized. He can turn people into his Knight Minions, so it's probably best that we DON'T increase the numbers.

Nathaniel, running up to him: Where is Alix?!

Adrien: She went to tell those on the other side of the school.

Mylène: Shouldn't we go find her then?!

Scarabée, walking in: Don't bother. I saw her get turned into one of those Knights.

Rose, nearly crying: No... *gets pulled into a hug by Juleka*

Marinette: Shouldn't Kitty Claws be here to help you?

Scarabée: *sighs* She's not answering my calls or texts... I hope she's okay.

Marinette: If you need help, I'd be more than happy to come with you.

Scarabée: No can do. We don't know what this Akuma could have up his sleeve. It's probably best that you all stay here. Board up the school and STAY SAFE.

Scarabée then quickly makes her leave.

Little did Scarabée know, Marinette had a plan of her own.

Marinette, turning to Alya: Alya, will you come with me? I think we're gonna need the ScaraBlog to keep everyone in the loop.

Alya: I'm in!

Kim: You're gonna need more muscle *pulls Max close* and brains. We're coming too!

Max, holding his laptop: I agree.

Mylène: Me and Ivan can help Socqueline and the others board up the school.

Socqueline: We gotta get started now! *takes Mylène, Ivan, and a bunch of other students with her*

Rose: Me and Juleka will also stay to keep everyone's spirits up!

Adrien: I want to go too!

Sabrina: So do I! Given that D'Argencourt lost the election yesterday, he's probably targeting Mr. Bourgeois. He's probably gonna go after Chloé if he can't get to him.

Marinette: Alright! So the six of us are going! Get your gear and be ready in three minutes.

Nathaniel, balling his fist up: Alix... no.

Marc, gently grabbing his hand: Don't worry, Scarabée and Kitty Claws will saw her.

~~~~~Outside~~~~~

Scarabée watched from a few top as Darkblade transformed every and anyone around into his Knight Minions from a rooftop.

Scarabée, looking at her yo-yo again: KC still isn't answering any of my calls. *sighs* guess I'm on my own for now.

Darkblade: Let us do battle, Knights!

Scarabée then makes herself known to the Akuma and his army by jumping from the rooftop and landing in front of them all.

Scarabée, spinning her yo-yo: The people had their say and they chose Bourgeois over you, D'Argencourt!

Darkblade: Their words don't apply to me. D’Argencourt was defeated, NOT Darkblade! Onguard!

Scarabée's lone fight with Darkblade began.

But it doesn't last long due to Darkblade managing to get Scarabée yo-yo out of her hand and over the bridge.

Scarabée: Well, that's un-fucking-fortunate!

Darkblade, shocked: Language, Young Lady! Take her!

Scarabée: Yeah... no! *jumps off the bridge*

Darkblade: Now that she’s dealt with, City Hall awaits us!

Scarabée, under the bridge: Let's hope KC's there too.

Little did Scarabée know, there was another part to Darkblade's City Hall plan.

~~~~~Back at Le Grand Paris~~~~~

Plagg was eating his camembert cheese when he sensed that something was off.

He then stealthily flew outside, saw the army of Knights surrounding the Hotel, and flew right back in.

Plagg, quickly flying back inside: Blondie? You gotta see this!

Chloé: *groans* Plagg! You chose NOW to admire the view I have of Paris?! I'm trying to relax.

Plagg: I got a view all right, but it's not a good one!

Chloé gets up from her bed, runs out to the pool, and is able to see the Armored Knights surrounding Le Grand Paris from below.

Before Chloé could transform, her door is kicked down and in walks Darkblade.

Darkblade, walking into the room: Hello, Princess.

Chloé and Plagg (who managed to hide in her purse), internally: Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh SHIT!

Darkblade then uses his sword to transform Chloé, but not into a Knight.

~~~~~Outside of Hôtel de Ville~~~~~

While André was being held up in the building by the Knights with swords being held up to him, Scarabée wasn't far as she fought through the many Knights outside to get to him.

Just when Scarabée finds herself surrounded, a limousine drove towards her, hitting all the Knights around her before stopping.

Marinette, Alya, Kim, Max, Adrien and Sabrina all come out of it.

Scarabée: I thought I told you guys to stay at the school- is that a limousine from the Agreste home?!

Sabrina: Don't worry, we didn't steal it. Adrien's body guard was turned into a Knight!

Max: And we technically weren't driving it. I used my laptop to control it.

Marinette: Kitty Claws still isn't here with you?!

One of the Knights: Oye! Oye! Darkblade shall speak now! Listen or be imprisoned!

Darkblade, with a tied up Chloé in a golden princess dress next to him: Henceforth my flag shall fly over my Kingdom. *readies his swords* Bourgeois, pathetic naive! Come hither and do battle! For your the Kingdom and your daughter!

André, running outside: CHLOÉ!

Scarabée: Mayor Bourgeois, NO!

Scarabée then uses her yo-yo to prevent André from getting any closer to the Akuma.

Adrien, angrily: Using his love for his daughter against him is incredibly low!

Scarabée: I have to agree.

Scarabée then wraps her yo-yo around one of the Knight Minions and throws them at Darkblade.

Once Darkblade is on the ground, Scarabée uses her yo-yo to quickly pull Chloé close to her.

Scarabée, still holding her: Are you okay, Chloé? He didn't hurt you, did he?!

Chloé, blushing at the closeness: N-no I'm okay.

Alya, livestreaming: Scarabée is on the scene! Where are you, Kitty Claws?!

Chloé, internally: Damnit! I should've stayed at the school. Transforming would've been SO much easier!

Kim: We gotta get Chloé and Mayor Bourgeois inside!

Sabrina: We gotta clear out the inside first!

Scarabée, letting go of Chloé: Stay close, Chloé. *turns to face Kim and Sabrina* follow my lead, you two.

While Scarabée Kim and Sabrina ran inside Hôtel de Ville, they knocked out every Knight Minion that came at them while Chloé Adrien Max and Marinette carefully followed them.

Just as Darkblade gets up again, Scarabée flings all the Knights they defeated out of the door.

After they all land on him, she slams the door.

Darkblade, getting back up angrily: YOU ALL SHALL FEEL THE THE WRATH OF DARKBLADE!

Scarabée: Board up the windows and doors, now!

Darkblade, walking up to the door: you all shall kneel before the flag of Darkblade!

Before Darkblade could fully open the door, Kim throws a heavy chair at it, making sure it closes in his armor covered face.

Marinette: Scarabée, take Chloé to safety! We should be able to hold them off until you get back.

Scarabée, picking Chloé up bridal style: Thanks! Be safe, you guys *runs up the stairs*

Chloé, internally: Damnit! This is all my fault! If I were there, I could've been helping Itty-Bitty and not caught by Darkblade. But nope! I just HAD to go home and do my nails.

Chloé, speaking out loud: Why would you want to save a spoiled brat like me? It's worth it to sacrifice me to him.

Scarabée: Chloe, I swear to you. As long as I'm by your side, you'll never be harmed. Trust me, my dear.

Chloé, furiously blushing: ... *thinks to herself* STOP BEING HOT! I'M UPSET WITH MYSELF!! *speaks out loud once again* Y-you can just had me in one of these rooms. I promise I'll be fine.

Scarabée, smirking: You got it, Princess!~

Chloé, internally: STOP BEING SO SMOOTH AND SEXY DAMNIT!!!

Scarabée then kicks open the door, walks inside, and gently puts Chloé down before quickly leaving.

After the door is closed, Plagg flies out of Chloé's purse, wearing a little dress of his own.

Plagg: Please transform now!

Chloé: You don't have to tell me twice. Plagg, Claws Out!

After transforming, Kitty Claws leaps out the room's window, runs around to the front of Hôtel de Ville, and make herself known to Darkblade and his Knights.

Kitty Claws: Hey! Instead of mess with the ACTUAL Mayor of Paris and a bunch of teenagers, why don't you take a swing at me! *readies her baton*

Marinette, looking between a part of the window they didn't cover: It's Kitty Claws! She's here!

Alya, filming Kitty Claws from inside: Finally!

Scarabée: *sighs in relief* Thanks for showing up, KC. I'm gonna go out to help her now. You all stay safe in here! *runs up the stairs*

Scarabée briefly looks at the door of the room she put Chloé in before going into the door across from it and closing the door.

Outside, Kitty Claws is surrounded by Knights, but Scarabée rescues the cat heroine with her yo-yo.

Scarabée: Sorry I wasn't out there helping you, KC. I was helping with damage control.

Kitty Claws: If anyone should be apologizing, it's me for being so late, Itty-Bitty!

Kitty Claws then gets up, quickly walks up to Scarabée and gives her a tight hug.

Scarabée couldn't help but to hug her back.

They're nice moment is interrupted by Darkblade shouting

"COME FORMATION!!"

To stop the Knights from climbing onto the windows, Scarabée uses her yo-yo to swing kick them off while Kitty Claws uses her baton to push them off.

Kitty Claws: Your form is terrible! *pulls Scarabée back in the window*

Darkblade, angrily: Cursian colorful acrobats!

Darkblade then turns two cars into catapults and launches himself onto the roof.

Kitty Claws: They're trying to fling themselves onto the roof to get the flag!

Scarabée: I know where his akuma is. We can’t let him change that flag! Let's get that sword!

Kitty Claws and Scarabée follow him and see that he is about to place his family flag on top of City Hall.

The two heroines try to get the sword before he plants the flag, but they're is too late.

As Darkblade plants the flag, a dark cloud spreads over Paris and creates a gigantic cylinder of darkness that shrinks inwards, turning everyone it passes through into knights.

This of course included everyone in Lycée Françoise Dupont and their six allies with Mayor Bourgeois as well.

Darkblade: Bow to King Darkblade!

Scarabée, absolutely furious: GOD FUCKING DAMNIT!!

Darkblade: Soon you shall join my army, verminous insect!

Kitty Claws, knock all the Knight off of her: NO ONE TALKS TO SCARABÉE LIKE THAT! BRING IT ON, YOU FUCKING OLD TIMER!!

While Kitty Claws begins to repeatedly hit Darkblade with her baton, Scarabée begins to spina her yo-yo, ready to continue the fight.

A certain super villain absolutely loved watching the two heroines struggle.

Hawkmoth: It won't be long before Scarabée and Kitty Claws show up to meet their doom.

While still finding Darkblade, Kitty Claws noticed that the gigantic cylinder of darkness was getting closer to them.

Kitty Claws, still shielding herself with her baton: We're about to wind up as Knights too... I would NOT rock a suit of armor!

Scarabée, noticing that the Knights are getting even closer to her: Damnit...

Scarabée and Kitty Claws realize that they have little time to spare before they too are transformed into knights.

Scarabée uses Lucky Charm, which produces a small wind-up toy.

Scarabée, after using her lucky vision: You better be ticklish, Darkblade!

Even after all of her attacks, Darkblade continued to get back up.

This still doesn't stop Kitty Claws from fighting him.

After winding up it up, Scarabée swings abit closer to Darkblade and away from his Knights.

She then tosses the toy under Darkblade’s shoulder, tickling him and causing him to drop his sword.

Kitty Claws, who activated her cataclysm then catches the swords and tosses the now rusty sword to Scarabée, who quickly breaks the already fragile thing, revealing the akuma and causing the cylinder of darkness to vanish.

Scarabée then catches the akuma, purifies it, and uses her Miraculous Cure to fix everything.

Which included turning everyone who got transformed into a Knight back to normal.

Scarabée: Great job as always, KC.

Kitty Claws: Thank you very much, Itty-Bitty~ *hears her ring beeping* we gotta get going! *quickly pulls Scarabée close and uses her baton to take the selfie*

Scarabée: I'm taking D'Argencourt back to the school he works at. See you soon?

Kitty Claws: I hope so!~

After Scarabée leaves with Mr. D’Argencourt, Kitty Claws goes back through the window she went out of and transforms back into Chloé before Plagg hides in her purse.

Just as she left the room, Adrien and Sabrina ran up to her.

Sabrina: Chloé! We're so happy you're okay! *quickly hugs her*

Chloé, hugging her back: Yeah, it's a good thing Scarabée came when she did.

Adrien, smirking: Chloé can always count on Scarabée to be HER hero.

Chloé, blushing: Don't leave out Kitty Claws!

Adrien: Yeah, but it's clear that you have a favorite-

Chloé, blushing furiously: Shut it!

Sabrina: Marinette and the others already left... which one of them do you think is gonna win Class Representative tomorrow.

Chloé: Don't know, don't care. Any one of them will do a better job than me.

Sabrina: Chloé...

Chloé: It's fine, Sabrina. I told my dad I wasn't running for Class Representative again when I got back to my room and he wasn't upset with me at all.

Adrien: I gotta go! Placide's probably freaking out looking for the limousine.

Sabrina: We'll come with you!

After Scarabée drops Mr. D’Argencourt off in front of the school, she hides before transforming back.

When she walks up towards the school, she sees Nathaniel Marc Mylène and Rose running towards her.

Nathaniel, hugging her: I'm so happy you're okay!!

Marc: You had us ruined sick.

Rose, joining in on the hug as well: We're so relieved that you're alright!

Mylène: These Akumas are enough to stress Angels out!

Socqueline, shouting from in school while dragging Brigiette towards the entrance: Hey Marc! We got a little cheater with a trapped hand here!

When Socqueline shows them Brigiette's trapped hand, Marc pulls a key out of his pocket, walks up to them, unlocks the box, and takes it and the book from Brigiette.

Marc: Gotta thank Marinette again for the magic box.

Without saying a word, Brigiette snatches her wrist out of Socqueline's strong hand before running away.

Marinette, Alya, Kim, and Max then walk up to the group.

Alix: Now that she’s gone, can I ask were YOU FOUR have been?!

Alya: You can see it all on the ScaraBlog!

Rose: They took Adrien and Sabrina to go help Scarabée!-

Kim: Whoa! Don't spoil it for her!

Marinette: The important thing is that Scarabée and Kitty Claws managed to save the day again.

Alix: I'm going home now! *points at Marinette, Rose, Mylène, and Kim* You four gotta take down those booths you set up.

Nathaniel: Me and Marc are gonna stay behind and help clean up, see ya tomorrow, Alix!

As Alix walks away, she couldn't help but think about what Chloé said earlier.

"Why would you want to save a spoiled brat like me? It's worth it to sacrifice me to him."

Alix, internally: Seeing everyone cheer after she said she wasn't running for Class Representative must have really got to her...

Alix then took out her phone and started to text a familiar number.

❓️AK🎭: You there?

👑Princely Sunshine☀️: Yeah, what's up?

❓️AK🎭: Do you have Chloé's new number?

👑Princely Sunshine☀️: Yeah, why?

~~~~~The following morning~~~~~

Marinette is elected as the new representative, with Alya as her deputy.

While everyone else cheered, Sabrina couldn't help but notice Chloé's subtle smile as she looked at her phone.

🥇Ally-Kins💖: Hey Chloé, it's Alix. Good on you for NOT choosing to be a major Drama Queen as Class Representative this year. Also, I saw your golden Darkblade dress on the ScaraBlog. You looked very cute.👍

Inspired by: @emdoddles @princess-of-the-corner @muggle-born-princess @dcschart @justanotherpersonsuniverse @symphonic-scream

#Miraculous Ladybug #Miraculous Tales of Ladybug and Chat Noir #Chloé Bourgeois #Alix Kubdel #Chloe x Alix #Chlolix #Aloé #Scarabée and Kitty Claws AU #AUs #Armand D’Argencourt #Other Characters

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