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#or in an arranged marriage with some princess and she hates him except they fall in love
barefoothighlander · 11 months
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the vow - i
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summary: you’re betrothed to the future king of Guilder and a fearsome knight is assigned to protect you. medieval au
knight!simon ‘ghost’ riley x princess!reader
warnings: mdni (18+), age gap, violence, arranged marriage, infidelity
next part masterlist
a/n: @/dinalgo on tiktok posted some hc art of knight!ghost and i’m obsessed, so here’s my interpretation of that except I refuse to write in old English, also points if you catch the references I threw in
The sun shines brightly through the large window, the breeze blowing the trees outside your room, for a small moment, the world is quiet, just the songs of morning birds chirping on the balcony fill your ears, there’s no noise, no worries. 
The moment is quickly ruined by the sound of your maids bustling into the room, arms full of clothing and various tools, you turn your gaze to them slowly,
“Princess, good morning”
“I’ve told you a hundred times, please use my name”
“The Prince requests that we refer to you by your title m’lady”
“Well we wouldn’t want to upset him would we” Your tone is sarcastic as you make your way over to the women, one of them fixes your bed while the other prepares a bath, setting out your clothes. You step into the warm water, soothing a rag over your muscles to clean yourself before one of the ladies takes over, dumping water over your head to wash your hair. You sit for a few minutes in the water, allowing them to work around you, 
“You’re quiet this morning”
“Mm not much on my mind I’m afraid”
“You’re not excited for the festivities?”
“The feast should be nice, I don’t care much for the rest”
“Don’t talk like that” The older woman scolds, Clarice had known you since birth tending to you as a young girl, always by your side while you grew up in court, more a mother to you than your actual mother. “The Prince is handsome, a worthy adversary”
“Yes handsome, but also rude, stubborn, cold, everything I despise”
“With time you will grow to love him”
“I surely doubt that” You scoff
She furrows her eyebrows at you, “There, now let's get you dressed”
She helps you out of the bath over to the other maid, Beatrice, you had known her for less time, her position assigned to you when you came to the court after your engagement was announced. Your Father was the king of Florin, and you as his only child had the unfortunate position of being in an arranged marriage to the Prince of Guilder, the Monarchs of the country being old and weary, their son was to be crowned before the year ended and he needed a wife. Your countries had been at war for years, the violence only ceasing when your engagement had been announced, you had been in Guilder for a week now, hold up in the castle away from the public eye, today was the day that your engagement would be formally announced, a festival for your sake being held on the castle ground, thousands of people crammed inside the grounds all trying to get a look at you and the Prince, the idea made your stomach turn.
Your early years had been spent wandering the grounds of your families castle, the tall stone walls becoming a home after the years you spent in them, you felt sick for your old life, your freedom, you could run around the gardens, ride the horses whenever you wanted back home, but here, every action of yours was watched, criticized, you were told how to look, where to be and when, every part of your life was in the control of the Prince and your Father, you hated it.
You had gotten dressed, your breaths feeling tight due to the corset you wore, another freedom you yearned for was being able to wear clothing of your choosing, now everything was blue and green, the colours of Guilder, always tight on your chest to emphasize your figure, your hair was done up in a knot, a few loose strands falling to tickle your neck and cheeks.
“Beautiful” Clarice says, a soft smile on her face
“I look like a peacock”
“You do not, you’ve grown into such a beautiful woman, my little princess” Her hand is soft on your cheek, you smile at the tender action, always finding comfort in her. “Now, we must go, you’re needed downstairs”
You struggle to take a deep breath, silently cursing the fabric binding your chest as you make your way through the wide halls, they were lined with various adornments, some tapestries, a few swords hung beside scattered candles, it felt cold here, no comfort in the walls, everything was jagged and silver.
“Now, the Prince will introduce you, then the jousting will begin”
“Is anyone from Florin going to be in the duels?”
“I’m not sure my dear, there’s plenty of men from across the countries”
You nod, looping your arms through hers as you walk side by side, you stand at the large opening that leads out to the balcony above the castle grounds, everything is decorated in the countries colours, it’s so formal, you feel like a stranger in your new home, everything so similar yet so different, you had no family here, no friends aside from Clarice, you give her a soft smile before unhooking your arm, waiting for the Prince to announce you before walking out.
You step out onto the balcony, the warm sun hitting your skin, there’s a symphony of clapping and whistling, you look down at hundreds of people, all staring back at you, you wave to them,
“Sit down” The Prince speaks, you turn to him, his face is stoic, there’s no softness in his features, you abide, sitting down in the tall chair next to him. They begin the jousts, two by two the men file out, setting up on their horses, the Prince turns to you with every new competitor, explaining who they were and where they were from, including his personal opinion on the men.
You see a tall man enter the field, his armour pure black, his horse the same, he’s larger than the rest of the competitors, his helmet shaped like a skull, his chest plate donning an emblem you didn’t recognize.
“Who’s that one”
The Prince leans over the balcony to get a better look, eyes squinting in an effort to make out the symbol,
“I’m not sure, must be some farmboy playing make belief”
You respond with a small oh, the knight approaches the balcony, his hand reaching to remove his helmet, the light hits his face, streaking colours through his blonde hair, you can make out a few scars on his face, even from your distance you can see the deep colour of his eyes, his face is firm staring up at you, you’re frozen in your spot, staring back at him, he raises his lance toward you, without thinking you reach behind you, grabbing a ring of flowers held together by a ribbon, and throwing it onto his lance, it falls to the base, the flowers close enough that he could smell their aroma, he says nothing, not even a nod, he simply puts his helmet back on and moves to mount his horse.
You step back, your eyes stuck on him as you return to your seat,
“What was that?”
“Sorry?”
“You gave him your favour”
“Thought the farmboy could use some luck against Ser Michael”
“Ah, yes” The Prince goes on to ramble about the accomplishments of the opponent, his success in battle, how much he admired his bravery, but you aren’t listening, your focus completely taken by the shadowy knight galloping toward the centre of the pit, his lance raised as he thrusts it into his opponent, throwing him off his horse. The crowd erupts in cheers, you swallow thickly as you watch him get off his horse, moving toward you, he kneels in front of you,
“Simon Riley your highness”
“Where do you hail from Ser?” The Prince stands, your eyes are focused on him as he bows his head
“The North, but I am no Ser”
“You’re not a knight? You wear the armour of a knight”
“The armour belonged to my father”
“And where is he, your father?”
“Dead 10 years ago your highness”
“And tell me, why have you come”
“I come to prove my honour, to serve you”
“Very well, you may go”
You watch a few more rounds of jousting, growing bored with the same thing happening, they announce the final duel before urging the groups to attend the feast, you make your way down from the balcony, towards the high tables in the gardens, your eyes roaming over the groups of people, struggling to find a familiar face in the crowd.
“So what did you think?” The Prince asks
“About what?”
“The jousting” He scoffs
“They were all quite good”
“What about that Simon Riley”
You whip your head towards him, “I thought little of him, why?”
“Well he was rather large don’t you think, I might add him to my guard”
“Add him to mine” You speak before thinking
“Why would I add him to yours”
“I have no guard, no one to protect me”
“Well, I’ll arrange for you to choose a guard tomorrow then, perhaps then you’ll finally feel at ease here”
You nod your head, turning quickly from him, you greet the King and Queen, making small conversation about the state of the castle, the blooming bouquets of blue poppies that adorned the various pillars, your eyes are drawn to Simon, his dark appearance a stark contrast to the brightly dressed patrons that mingle around the grounds, you watch him disappear around a corner, it’s not until the Queen calls your name that you realize you had been staring at him the whole time.
“Sorry your majesty, my brain has been a fuzz all week, what did you ask?”
“That’s alright dear, with all the excitement I can hardly focus myself, I was just wondering if you had decided on a dress for the wedding”
“Oh, not yet, you’ve brought so many beautiful options I haven’t been able to decide”
“I understand, we have the best dressmakers here, but do make time to choose, we wouldn't want to delay such an important decision”
“Of course”
She smiles at you, looping her arm through her husbands as they walk on, you stand there, overwhelmed by the sights and sounds of everything happening around you, you had only a week until you were to be wed and you had every decision already made for you, your fiancee and his mother picking out every detail of the wedding down to what bouquet you’d be carrying, they had decided that you would hold a large grouping of the blue poppies you see everywhere, the royal flower of Guilder, no part of the wedding made notice of your heritage, all traces of Florin erased from the ceremony, you were to be wed according to Guilder law rather than the customs of your home.
They had arranged for your father to attend but no one else, claiming that there simply wasn’t space for extra people to join, they had cut you off from your old life completely, forcing you to conform to their way of life, moulding you into the perfect Queen, obedient and meek, you despised it, you longed for your freedom from the confines of the castle.
When the feast ended and you had spoken to all the nobility you needed to, you were escorted back to your quarters, the silence of the large stone walls consuming you once again, no birds singing, no rushing of maids, just you and the night sky. It was late, the dark consuming the outer land in a blanket of shadows as you stood on your balcony looking over the moonlit gardens, that was the only good thing about your new home, a perfect view of the perfect gardens, every shrub perfectly manicured, bending and winding in a maze that led to a small fountain in the centre, each flower a shade of green and blue. Truth be told you didn’t think much of the colours before moving but now, you despised them, every shade a sharp reminder of how you didn’t belong, the colours mocked you as they invaded your eyesight, you huffed a breath to yourself, eyeing the grounds below for any sign of guards. 
There was one roaming the grounds, you thought you could easily avoid detection if you were quick, you grab your robe wrapping yourself in it, a small attempt to keep yourself warm from the cool air of the night as you creep towards your door. They were heavy, large slabs of wood, you open in slowly to avoid any creaks, slipping through the opening and rushing down the hallway, there was a small door meant for staff that you entered, making your way down the thin stairs and peering through the door outside, the guard has his back turned, you inch the door open and slide through, quickly moving towards the gardens. You walk under a large arch of shrubs, the smell of the flowers invading your senses, bushes of wolfsbane, oleander and wisteria fill the gardens, all beautiful but deadly, a worthy metaphor for your new home, you roam the isles of the garden, lost in the hidden openings and similar corners.
After a few minutes, you find yourself in the middle, a tall fountain in front of you, it’s stunning, the intricate details of the stone swirling as the water crashes into the pool, you sit in the grass, listening to the sound, letting it relax you, finally a break from the quiet that wasn’t the screaming of citizens, or the demeaning words of your future mother-in-law. You close your eyes, the grass tickles your skin as you relax, breathing in the fresh air, you hear a small rustle in the grass, breaking you from your state, you turn your ear to the noise, calling out quietly to see if anyone was there. There was no reason for anyone to be in the gardens at this hour, in fact, the Prince practically forbade it, you stand slowly, following the rustling noise, peeking around a corner you see a quick movement turning the corner, moving faster you approach it, your heartbeat heavy as you near, you turn to find the culprit and let out a small gasp, a small white rabbit was sat, chewing on some shrubs, you kneel down extending your hand towards it.
“Come here little guy, these gardens aren’t safe for you” It hops toward you, nearly touching your hand before it turns on its heel and sprints away, you furrow your brows in confusion,
“They aren’t safe for you either Princess”
Your breath stops, you feel the looming figure behind you as you slowly stand, you heartbeat now thrumming in your ears, you turn to face him, he almost melts into the darkness of the garden, his armour pitch black,
“You should get back inside”
Goosebumps cover your skin, your breaths shallow as you stare at him, you back up slowly, turning around to move through the gardens, you turn around the corners, trying to find your way out, your feet carry you through the grass, you follow the lights inside the windows, trying to get out. You rush towards the exit, eyes focused on the light as you collide with the guard, stumbling into him,
“I’m sorry”
“Princess? What are you doing outside?”
“I just needed some air” Your breathes are shaky as he scans your face,
“Is everything alright?”
“Yes, completely, just need to go back inside I think the air was a little too cold”
“Well hurry in then” He nods, stepping aside to let you pass, you move past him hastily, opening the doors inside you make your way back up the stairs, you enter your room and release a breath, rushing towards your balcony to try and catch a glimpse of him. Your eyes scan the gardens, the night doing its job of concealing anything within the green walls, you see nothing, no movement anywhere, it's like he wasn’t even there, you think you imagined him, his deep voice ringing in your ears as you lay in your bed.
The next morning was calm, you woke early to the sound of your maids making their way inside, Clarice helping you dress and doing your hair while Beatrice makes your bed, tidying the room.
“Exciting day today” Clarice says
“What do you mean?”
“The Prince has arranged for you to pick a guard, I suppose he fears a possible war and wants you safe”
You nod at her, “I don’t believe the Prince fears for my safety as much as you do” you whisper, she shushes you, her eyes darting to Beatrice to make sure she didn’t hear, “Bite your tongue child”. You let out a small giggle, amused by how concerned she is, allowing her to finish your hair before you make your way to the throne room, you enter through the massive doors to a room of scattered men, all donning their house armour, you look around and see no sight of the dark knight. You stand atop the small set of stairs, looking down at the men as they announce themselves one by one, giving you their names and listing all their accomplishments, victories in battle, how they were undefeated in jousting in their home. You’re bored after an hour of their bragging, your mind oblivious to the fact that you have to choose one of them to be around you for hours at a time, an older man stands to speak but is interrupted by the sound of the doors opening, everyone turns their heads at the sound, their eyes widening at the sight of the tall man clad in black, he keeps his helmet on as he enters, only removing it to kneel before you.
“Simon Riley m’lady”
“Not Ser?”
“I beg your pardon”
“Everyone else here is a knight, why are you not?”
“I’m the last remaining member of my house m’lady, we’re a forgotten house”
“I expect my guard to be knighted”
“I may not hold a title Princess, but I assure you I would lay my life down for you” He turns his head to look at you as he speaks, and you release a strained breath,
“You may all leave” You address the room, Simon stands, “You stay” You look to him and he nods, the room is consumed in silence as the other men exit, leaving you alone with him, “Why were you in the gardens last night?”
“I needed to clear my head”
“It’s forbidden to be on castle grounds after dark”
“And yet you were there” He looks up to you, you swallow a thick gulp.
“You’ll be assigned to me, keep me safe”
“Thank you, Princess” He bows his head, 
“And don’t wear your helmet inside, it’s unnerving”
He fights the smile that creeps up on his lips as you turn away from him, exiting through the back of the room, you make your way to the Prince's quarters, his guards stand outside the door.
“Princess” They greet you
“Hello, I need to speak to the Prince”
They look to each other and back to you, “He’s busy I’m afraid”
“It’s a matter of staff” You try to push past them but they stop you, you furrow your brow at them, one takes a moment, knocking on the door.
“My Prince, the Princess wishes to speak with you” He shouts through the door, you hear shuffling through the door, the Prince mumbling something before he steps to the door, opening it, he’s half-dressed, his hair a mess, you watch him peer backwards, mouthing something and it all clicks in your head, you feel your chest tighten.
“What did you need my love” The name feels like a stab to your chest,
“I’ve chosen my guard, Simon”
“Simon?”
“The black knight from the feast” You watch the gears spin in his mind
“Yes very well” He turns away,
“He needs to be knighted”
He sighs, “He holds no title?”
“Not yet no”
“Fine, inform him that he should be in the throne room by nightfall, I shall do it then”
Before you can respond he closes the door, the shuffling and giggles behind the door resuming, you spare a polite smile to the guards, turning away and making your way to your quarters.
You sit at the small table in your room, your eyes watching through the window as people wander the grounds, you call for Clarice who meets your side in an instant,
“Please inform my guard he is to be in the throne room after dinner”
“Very well Princess” She smiles at you before leaving, you sit quietly in your room, daydreaming about being outside in the fields, exploring the ponds around the castle grounds, being anywhere but here. The time passes quickly, a servant knocks on your door to inform you that dinner was prepared, you make your way down to the dining hall, the air of the room feeling colder as you sit down, dinners were the same, just you, the Prince and the Queen, the King being in poor health was kept in his room, only brought out for special occasions. You sit and eat, picking at the meal in front of you as the two of them discuss wedding preparations like you aren’t there, they don’t ask for your input, deciding on things alone, after a few minutes you stand to excuse yourself,
“You’re done eating?”
You stop in your tracks, “Not particularly hungry this evening”
“Well, I should see you in a few moments in the throne room then,” He says, turning back to his conversation, disregarding you.
You make your way to the large room, the walls high, large windows separating the spaces in them, you stare at the ceiling, it’s ridiculously tall, with large chandeliers hanging from the crossing beams, there are pictures hanging on the wall, you stride past them not bothering to spare them a glance as you hear the doors open, The Prince walks in beside his own guard, Simon trailing behind them, your gaze softens as you look at him, he kneels in front of the Prince, removing his helmet, you’re close enough now that you can properly make out his features, the sharp line of his jaw, the scar that crosses through his eyebrow, and his eyes, dark and rich, his hair falling slightly across his forehead as he bows his head. The Prince declares a few words, taking a sword from his guard and tapping it onto Simon's shoulders, the knight stands to his height, he towers over the Prince, having to look down to meet his eyes, he swears a few words, giving his oath to the Prince before everything is settled. The Prince nods, stepping away and leaving the room, Simon turns to you,
“Ser Simon” You nod
“Princess”
You stand there looking at him, words unable to make their way from your lips, you simply turn and leave, his eyes following you as you exit making your way up to your room, he trails behind you, his helmet under his arm as you reach your door, he stands with his back to the wall, his eyes focusing around the halls as you enter your room. You step in and close the door, your back falling against the hard wood as you release a breath you didn’t know you were holding, bracing yourself against the door, you take a few seconds to gather your thoughts before moving further into the room, stripping yourself of your dress to put on more comfortable clothes, feeling like you could properly inhale without the burden of a corset.
You spend an hour alone in your room, pacing around trying to occupy your mind, the pale walls doing little to aid your efforts, you think to yourself for a minute, your legs carry you across the rooms towards your door where you stand for a moment, collecting yourself before opening it,
“Princess, is there a problem?” He asks
You shake your head, you’re entranced by his gaze, “Where is your family Ser?”
“My family?”
“You come here holding no title, no accomplishments, who are you?”
“I’m no one”
“Nobody is no one”
He smiles slightly, his eyes crinkling, “I come from England Princess, my family owned a farm before the war, and now I am here”
“And your family, what of them”
“Dead m’lady”
Your face drops, your heart thumps with empathy, “I apologize for my words, I had no idea”
“How could you have”
“Yes well, how did you come to be in the country?”
“I’m not sure, I left home one day and just kept going until I arrived in the countryside”
“And you chose to stay here?”
“It’s beautiful here”
“It seems that way”
“Seems?”
You stumble over your own words, careful to not give yourself away, “I simply mean it’s not my home”
“You’re not from here”
“No, I come from Florin”
“I have never been”
“Well I hope you get to see it one day, it’s beautiful, tall cliffs with waterfalls, every part of it breathtaking”
He watches you speak with deep interest, hanging on to every word that falls from your lips, “You miss it?”
“More and more every day” You admit
“And you can’t go home”
“Not if I am to be Queen” Your smile fades
He nods, you turn your gaze to him, oblivious to the fact that he’s been staring at you the entire time, his eyes memorizing every feature of your face, every smile line and ridge, you turn from him quickly, nervous under his stare.
“It’s late Princess, you should be in bed”
You turn back to him, a polite smile on your face as you walk back into your room, your hand lingers on the doorknob for a moment, wishing you could keep talking to him. You lay in your bed wide awake, the words exchanged with Simon the first conversation you’d had that didn’t concern the details of your marriage, he was the first person to ask about your feelings, your home, you figured he must’ve just been being polite, too nervous about getting sent away to say anything different to you.
Simon stands guard over your room while you sleep, turning away any guard who tried to take his position, intent on ensuring your safety within the confines of your room.
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mermaidsirennikita · 2 months
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I've recently read a book where the point was to have an heir and the hero is becoming more and more obssesed with the heroine and won't admitted bc IM DOING THIS FOR THE SAKE OF HAVING AND HEIR AND NOTHING MORE lol, do yoi have more books like that to recommend?
I appreciated the reviews you do ☺️ more than usual people get waaaay to serious about a book and it gets tiring to read their thoughts after a while
Hi! Thank you lol, I think people need to read romance novels for fun and it's a little irritating for me when they get like... guilty? About liking what they like. I think romance novels can definitely be emotionally deep and compelling, but the main point is fun.
Soooo I think some breeding kink or breeding kink adjacent vibes will give you these vibes!
Historical:
The Duchess in His Bed by Lorraine Heath--In this one, the heroine is the one that propositions the hero to put a baby in her because she needs a baby in order to secure her safety right after her husband dies. She spends a good chunk of the book showing him the kind of life his baby will have because he was a bastard and is worried about the kid having a good home, etc. But once they do get to babymaking, it's like feeeelings.
Waking Up with the Duke by Lorraine Heath--This is the ideal book for this setup, except a) they're making an heir on behalf of her husband, who's impotent after a carriage accident and pressures the hero to get his wife pregnant b) the hero isn't TOTALLY detached, even though he puts on a good front, because he has carried a torch for the heroine. However, the babymaking process is when he REALLY starts falling and it's delicious and one of my favorite books of all time. AINSLEY!!!!
Private Arrangements by Sherry Thomas--These two are married, and had feelings, but he left her the day after the wedding and they've been separated for like a decade. She wants a divorce so she can marry her lover, and he's like "fine"--if you give me an heir first. So it's really like... a reawakening via babymaking. I shall always remember the first sex scene when he like, bends her over a desk to KEEP IT PROFESH.
Lord of Darkness by Elizabeth Hoyt--This is the one where they got married because she was pregnant with another guy's baby and and the guy died before they could marry. Then she lost the baby and they separated without consummating the marriage. A few years later, she returns to town like "I want a baby, put it in me" and they start having sex... During which he gets FEELINGS.
The Duchess Deal by Tessa Dare--The hero is a super scarred duke whose fiancee leaves him right before the wedding, and the heroine is the seamstress who made the wedding dress and shows up on his doorstep wearing it all "PAY UP". He realizes he has a ready-made bride, and he just needs an heir, so... they've got a deal. Obvi, he begins falling for her as they start working on the baby.
The Duke I Tempted by Scarlet Peckham--This is another "duke marries local woman for an heir" book, with the twist that his secret is... He's sexually submissive and likes to be dominated and whipped during sex.
Contemporary(ish):
Lush Money by Angelina M. Lopez--This is the crazy one wherein the heroine is like, a billionaire, the hero is the prince of a tiny nation with a genius IQ. She wants a smart royal baby, so she offers to bail out his nation financially if he marries her and gets her pregnant. He actually hates her, but he's a man of his word, so he starts workin' on it. Workin' REAL hard.
Mafia Virgin by Mila Finelli--In this one, a mob boss and a mafia princess (who wants to be a doctor lmao) are forced to marry, and then the boss is blackmailed.... he has to get her pregnant within six months, or Something Bad Will Happen. However, it turns out that they both have a breeding kink, so they get SUPER into it and feelings start to develop. This is the one where he makes her kiss his balls and thank them for all the cum they're about to give her (she's about it).
Fantasy:
The Winter King by C.L. Wilson--The hero conquers the heroine's kingdom, and part of the treaty is her being forced to marry him and give him an heir within a year. VERY hot.
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Text
riddle means misery | part 2.
Summary: Y/N Riddle. Not much more has to be said. Everyone hates her. She’s evil... she has to be.
Warnings for the Series: 18+, this series is dark. Manipulation, dubcon verging on noncon, abuse of power, violence, ed mentions, death, blood
Pairing: unknown yet x black!reader
Word Count: 4.9k
A/N I:  My old readers will know, if I have multiple parts finished. I will post them. Except nearly the whole series to be put up tonight— up until the romance part until I decide who. 
Previous Part | (Series Masterlist) 
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You didn’t move despite the charm being off until they were gone. Shakily, you pulled out your wand and muttered ‘Tergeo’-- you didn’t have enough magic to use ‘Scourgify’. You were happy no one was in the common room. Finnegan wasn’t in the room and you didn’t get a good night’s sleep because of it. Sirius wouldn’t hurt an animal just because they belonged to you, right? 
Relief filled your body at Finnegan sleeping on the arm rest of the couch in the common room. You immediately took her upstairs for her breakfast before taking her outside to use the restroom— the cat areas of Hogwarts were really convenient because you would hate a litter box in your room. Remus was the one who caught you crouched in the outer corridor while watching Finnegan enjoy her outside time, skipping breakfast because you didn’t want to deal with anything. You would just get food from the kitchen in a little bit. The house elves were never horrible to you. They were mean but at least they let you get food. 
“Please leave me alone.” 
“I’m doing you a favor by warning you.” 
“Warning me?”
“Marlene wants to duel you this afternoon but is willing to let your boyfriend take your place.” 
Your eyebrows scrunched in confusion. “I don’t have a boyfriend.” 
“Rosier kisses your ass, I’m sure he kisses other things.”
“I would never kiss him. He’s not my boyfriend and I’m not a whore.”
“What makes you think snogging means you’re a whore, your father tell you that?” 
You grabbed your cat and left. Remus stood and jogged to catch up with you. “Bloody hell, that’s true?”
“What’s true, Moony?”
“Merlin’s Beard,” you whispered as the rest of the group showed up. 
“Her father’s little letters told her you’re a whore if you snog someone.” 
All the boys started laughing. James adjusted his glasses. 
“You say you’re not a Death Eater but you listen to Daddy’s letters? That’s a bit heir to the evil throne, Princess.”
“Is there a reason?” Peter asked. 
You knew walking would result in them following. You just adjusted Finnegan in your arms. “Snogging leads to dating.”
“Yeah, that’s the idea.”
“No point in dating if they’re not the one you’re set up to marry,” you mumbled. 
“That little marriage list wasn’t a joke? And here I was going to compliment You-Know-Who on having some humor in his murderous body… wait, my name was on it.”
Sirius blocked you in with his arms. “Nope, nope, you’re not leaving until I know why my name was on it.” 
“You’re a pureblood,” you muttered.
“What?”
“You’re a pureblood from an old family.” 
Sirius’ hand held your throat, not applying pressure but threatening to. “I’d never date you.”
“It’s not about what you want! It’s a marriage arrangement, you don’t choose it. It happens when my father takes over, you think he cares what we want?” 
“When?” Sirius’ hand around your throat dropped. 
“My father gets stronger by the day and no one is doing anything about it. It’s obvious what’s going to happen. Voldemort will take over and everyone will fall in line or get killed. Muggleborns will have to give up their wands or die and purebloods won’t marry anyone less than a pureblood until we’re all that’s left. That’s life when he wins. When.”
“How are you even allowed to be here?” 
You turned at the random voice. The Great Hall had cleared out from dinner and you were faced with a bunch of your fellow students that only heard you say your father was going to win and kill them all. 
“You should be in an Azkaban cell,” another student said as they all started to walk by. 
“No, I’m not…” 
Your words weren’t finished as you ducked under Sirius’ arm to leave. Finnegan scratched your arms as you were lifted into the air and she jumped to the ground. Your wand hit the ground and you watched James pocket it. Everyone was laughing as the shorts under your skirt were vanished to reveal tiny blue panties with stars on them. 
Your face felt hot as your hands held up your skirt when you felt the panties disappear. You couldn’t cry. Crying would only make it worse, you were sure. No one had ever seen you cry at Hogwarts for that exact reason. Well that was a lie. Up until he graduated at the end of your third year, Lucius had seen a few tears. You hated that he had seen so much of you in a way you knew pleased him and your father.   
“Drop her!” 
You heard that and the shouts of various spells before you found yourself floating back to the ground. Evan Rosier was throwing spells at anyone he could see. Severus looked at you with mild disgust. 
“Why didn’t you do anything?” 
“James took my wand.” 
His face softened and you were actually grateful to the Marauders for once. If the Death Eater posse knew how little magic you possessed, they would stop helping you. He cleaned up the scratches you got from your cat. Severus summoned your wand and some shorts. A blush covered his face. 
“I thought the shorts were more appropriate for me to grab.” 
You thanked him and pulled the shorts up with a vengeance. Evan stopped hexing people only when the Death Eater posse were the last in the hallway. 
Bellatrix reached out to hand Finnegan back to you. “Those mudbloods will be the ones rotting in Azkaban cells if they don’t mind themselves. We can hex them some more.”
“No,” you said quickly before realizing you needed to say more. “School hexes are stupid. They’ll realize Hogwarts isn’t the real world.”
Evan nodded. “If you change your mind, we’ll be glad. I’ve been itching to drop someone from the third floor.” 
The posse walked off, laughing about spells they’ve been wanting to do for a long time. Your life felt like hell. You knew it when you found yourself wishing the Marauders would choose to publicly mess with you that day so others wouldn’t. You would actually even take them shoving you into the Black Lake again like they did in third year. At least they wouldn’t throw rocks at you at first. Every meal was now eaten in the kitchen because the Great Hall was the biggest source of your humiliation. You went to the owlery to get another letter from your father. There was one from him and one with no markings or signatures. You opened the non marked one to find a single sentence:
If you go to Astronomy tonight, you might slip from the tower. 
“Hey, Princess!”
You didn’t even look up at James, just shoved the letter in his arms so he could destroy it like he wanted and ran. You didn’t think they were joking. Taking a failing grade in Astronomy was worth it if it meant you were going to live. You had gotten many threats over the years but no one had been bold enough to threaten to kill you. A lot of letters saying you should die or be dead. But none saying they would kill you. 
In the safety of your room, you cried and hyperventilated on the floor. The bullying was expected, the torment was often, but the moments you truly didn’t feel safe were far and few between. You listened to the letter and didn’t attend your Astronomy class. You skipped breakfast the next morning as well. 
Instead of going to the Great Hall, you went straight to the library. Exams were coming up and you needed study materials. You looked over when you felt stares. A group of seventh years from different Houses were there. The girl in front rolled her eyes. 
“What are you doing, Riddle?” she asked.
You didn’t answer. Maybe it would have been better to say nothing and move on. You just tried to get your books. One of the thick novels smacked you in the face repeatedly.   
“You don’t know how to speak, brat?”
“What do you want?” you asked. 
“Come to Hogsmeade.”
“I’m studying, O.W.L.s ar—”
“That wasn’t a question. You’re leaving with us now. Hogsmeade or your cat might go missing. It was a stray anyway, right?”
You dropped all of your books and left with them. They sandwiched you in so you couldn’t even think about running. You felt one of them grab your wand out the waistband of your skirt. The undeniable crunch of your wand snapping reached your ears only a few seconds later.   
“We’re getting firewhiskey at the pub,” one of them said. 
“I can’t drink till next school year.”
“Learn we aren’t asking questions, unless you want another hex.” 
You followed them to the pub where they trapped you in the booth. You listened to them order— someone got you a butterbeer and multiple shots of firewhiskey. Three shots were placed in front of you. 
“Drink.” 
They laughed when you coughed as the alcohol burned your throat. The girl who spoke earlier grabbed your chin. 
“When your father takes over, you think all little muggleborns are going to let you take our wands?”
“I didn’t mean it like that, you didn’t hear the fir—”
“Prove it. Prove you’re not a Death Eater then, that you like us mudbloods… I know what I do when I like someone.”
You hit at her wrist. “No, let go.” 
The group laughed. 
“She’s not into girls, I bet,” someone else said. “Sweetheart, we’ve got plenty of mudblood boys too.”
You panicked and hit at her wrist again. You didn’t like this game. Snogging was supposed to be something special according to your books. You didn’t want to be kissed by any of them. You didn’t like any of them. The guy behind the girl raised a brow.
“I thought you wanted everyone to know you weren’t your father.”
“No kissing, you already broke my wand.”
“That was just part one.”   
“Let go, let go!” 
She hissed when you hit her particularly hard. Before the girl could get out another word, a wand was pointed at her throat. 
“She told you to let go. I don’t think she’s friends with any of you.” Lucius sneered. 
They all scampered away. Lucius gave you a hand out of the booth. Just like when you were eleven, you immediately clung to him. He led you out the pub and apparated you both to Diagon Alley when you mentioned that your wand was broken. Ollivander wasn’t even surprised to see you. He was one of the few adults you liked. You knew he didn’t like you— you had caught him talking to one of the other customers when he thought you had left. But, he always treated you like a normal customer to your face. At least he knew how to put on a facade.  
“Let’s try a different wand this time, Miss Riddle. I’ve been giving you the same replacement for years. Try this, beech wood with a dragon heartstring core. Ten inches, unyielding.” 
You cleaned the dust off the counter. Ollivander nodded. You reached into your bag but Lucius paid before you could even fish out the coins and count them. He took you back to Hogsmeade and began the walk to Hogwarts.  
“They’re still messing with you? I told you to tell your father after I graduated.”
“He’d kill everyone, even the purebloods.”
Lucius chuckled. “That’s what happens when you’re a Daddy’s girl. Well, you’re almost done and then you can join him. I think they should all be scared when you join us… You’re wearing the bracelet?”
You nodded. “It’s nice. Thank you for the jewelry.”  
“It looks pretty on you.” Lucius took your hand and kissed it. “I’ll see you around.”
He turned to leave. He had to know about the marriage list. You sighed because Lucius definitely thought he was the number one prospect and was going to do anything to stay that way. You’d quicker marry Sirius than him and that said a lot because you wanted the arrogant boy to drown himself in the lake every other day. You felt light walking into the castle, though. 
Lucius had kept you out long enough that everyone already had gone to bed. The castle seemed empty. You couldn’t wait until it was actually void of students. Summer was your liveliest time even if it was short. The Great Hall was always playing music on the record player when you were cleaning with the house-elves. You were surprised they still didn’t like you all that much despite the fact that you cleaned with them. 
The first thing you did one your first day of freedom was go to the pier to paint your nails. You weren’t really a make-up girl, partially because it was so expensive. But you were a complete nail polish girl. If you didn’t replace your nail polish every other Sunday then the world was coming to an end. 
Your second favorite thing about summer was quidditch. The quidditch pitch was free for you to ride your broom and scream at the top of your lungs. You just knew that you would have been an amazing Chaser. Having the castle all to yourself was always a dream. It was the real you that no one— not even your father— had a glimpse of. 
All the shine was dulled when September came back. You skipped the opening feast and ate in your room. You just wanted another day before all the crap started again. And like you predicted, the moment you stepped outside was the moment it started. Your prefect dropped your schedule in your cup of orange juice and then you slipped on a mysterious patch of ice when leaving the Great Hall. The ice patch broke some teeth. Madame Pomfrey wouldn’t help you, acting like you always had a tooth problem. 
You sat at your desk in your dorm room and brewed your own Skele-Gro. You didn’t take the potion until late at night because you knew that the process would be a bit painful for the teeth completely missing and you wanted to be passed out for most of it. Changing into pajamas, you got ready for the potion. You threw it back and dragged yourself to bed, closing the curtains around it. 
Your roommates noticed a cauldron that your foot had hit as you got into bed. It rocked back and forth before tipping all the way— the purple liquid spilling out of it. The cauldron knocked over other bottles and broke the herb and salt lines around your bed.
It was getting hard to breathe. Your eyes flew open to see nothing but black. Arms hit at whatever was on top of you. The giggling of your roommates was making you panic even more. Spots started to dart across your vision. Your hand tried to reach for your wand but it wasn’t where you left it. The pillow finally seemed to let you pull it away from your face. You sat up, panting heavily. All your roommates made eye-contact with you before going to sleep. Falling asleep again wasn’t an option. You grabbed your wand from one of the roommates’ nightstand and moved to change into day clothes. 
McGonagall looked extremely annoyed when you knocked on her door. “Miss Riddle, you’re out past curfew.” 
“The girls in my room tried to kill me,” you said between breaths. 
“That is a very serious accusation.”
“They put a p—”
“Miss Riddle, did you not hear me? That is a very serious accusation and we don’t take kindly to students throwing it around like nothing. Go back to your room before I give you detention for breaking curfew.” 
Your mouth dropped open. She wasn’t taking you seriously. You turned around to head back to the common room before deciding to take one more chance and go to Dumbledore’s office. Dumbledore gave you the same look as McGonagall when the door was opened. You already knew he would say the same things as her but you tried anyway. You ended up grabbing your bags, your journals, and your cat from your room before camping out in a broom closet in the common room. Hopefully none of the quidditch players wanted to practice early in the morning. 
You didn’t know what to do. You couldn’t sleep in your room anymore. What if you accidentally knocked over a cauldron and it happened again? They actually tried to smother you with a pillow. The worst part was they almost succeeded. You decided to walk through Hogsmeade to try and come up with a solution. Also to comfort yourself by buying new nail polish or something. You wanted another research journal. You were old enough now to take your research seriously. Exploring the Dark Arts so you could figure out how to defend them was important to you. Especially because your father’s letters revealed more and more to you. You thought that it would be nice to sit at the bar in Three Broomsticks and drink some wine on the weekends while talking about a spell your father taught you when you were six that was three times worse than the Cruciatus Curse. Maybe The Ministry, particularly The Aurors, would find it very useful.     
You stumbled as a hex hit you, causing you to fall and get a cut on your chin. Ignoring the blood, you looked at your coins in your hand—  there was some money to spare. A butterbeer before going back to the castle seemed like a great start to working on the journals. Besides, you needed to be out of the castle a little longer. You paused when you reached the window of Three Broomsticks. Four faces were talking animatedly to each other and a terrible solution appeared in your mind. You might make yourself a target but it was worth a shot.  
“Are we actually gonna do it?” Remus asked. “We never even figured out who to ask over summer.”
Sirius took the salad that the waitress brought. “Not my fault two of you are straight as a damn whistle. A boy sub is so much easier to find, I know so many. Shit, I’d even ask Archie again. He’s a switch but wouldn’t mind and the breakup wasn’t bad. We would’ve had someone by now.”
“That’s comfortable with four doms?” 
Peter swallowed his bite of food. “If they’re comfortable with fucking Padfoot, they’re comfortable with four doms.” 
That made the others chuckle. The boys had been seriously considering actually going through with the throwaway suggestion one of them had made the summer before when they broke into the Potters’ alcohol cabinet to finally try some because they couldn’t wait one more year to be legal. An alcohol induced night and the fact that they were already way too comfortable with each other led to finding out they’re all doms— which shocked James who thought Sirius was a sub the entire time, vice versa with his friend. 
They began to think more and more about it but never really figured out who they would even approach to ask. They might have been known around school but there were still some things they wanted under wraps which was why they were so hesitant on Sirius’ suggestions even though he knew the most people out of all them— the problem was they loved to kiss and tell which was why he slowly stopped kissing and just went on dates. 
James only could think of people on the quidditch team and didn’t want that messy dynamic of being team captain and sleeping with one of your teammates. He wasn’t about to be accused of benching someone or being harsh during practice because of sex. So they were back to square one of brilliant idea with no possible execution.                      
You walked into the pub with determination. The Marauders blinked when you stood in front of their table. You poked at your thighs and James had to bite back a laugh because you were dressed just like his grandpa— he was positive that he had seen that exact pair of corduroy pants and pink t-shirt in the closet. Even your little tote bag looked old.
“Ring Leader?” Remus acknowledged you. 
“I need friends,” you said. 
“Go find the posse. Aren’t you already friends with th—”
“No. I need good friends… so everyone else will leave me alone.”
James set down his butterbeer. “What do we have to do with it?”
“People will stop if I’m friends with you. No one messes with me if you four are in charge of humiliating me. It can’t be much different if we’re friends. I want that every day. I want it all to stop. I’ll pay you. Whatever you w—”
“I think my money alone is enough for the four of us.”
“Please! M-my roommates t-t-tried to kill me. I can’t be alone and I don’t think I can go back to my room… I need h— I’ll do whatever you want. Give you money, do your homework, review you—”  
“Sleep with us,” Sirius said jokingly before shoving his forkful of salad into his mouth. 
“O-okay.”
He looked up with wide eyes, nearly choking on his food. “Moony, get up… Princess, sit. Fuckin’ pathetic. You know that, right?”
You slid into the booth, acutely aware of how little space there was with both Remus and Sirius in the booth. You were stiff as Sirius brazenly squeezed your breast. That never happened to you before. A gasp left your mouth when his hand started going for your belt buckle. His hand slid into your pants, moving past your underwear. His fingers spread you open but his face read disinterest. 
“You agree and this is what it is, understand that? Those tits? Ours. Your mouth, ours. Ass, ours. This pussy…”
Your mouth dropped open as he plunged his fingers into you. 
“Ours.” His fingers left as quickly as they entered you. “We get you whenever we want. All four of us. We’re doing you a favor acting like your friends. You owe us. You’re not our sub.”
“What’s that?” 
“How sheltered does You-Know-Who keep you?” Remus asked. 
Sirius continued his first point. “You’re not our sub. Don’t act like it either, understand you’re a plaything. A toy. Do you understand that?”
“Repeat what he said, Princess,” James said. 
“I’m a toy.” 
“Good girl. Whose?”
“Marauders,” you whispered. 
Sirius zipped your pants back up and went back to eating. “You learn quick. Waiter! Can we get… what do you want?” 
“Porridge breakfast and a butterbeer.” 
“Side of fruit or potatoes?”
“Fruit, please.”
The Marauders talked around you as everyone ate. They were mainly pissed that you were staying in their room because you were scared of your roommates. You couldn’t exactly say you were excited. You had never kissed a boy let alone slept with one. Not to mention this wasn’t just one but four. Worth it wasn’t quite the word you would use but it was the only option that you had. The only option you could visibly see. You finished down your butterbeer when James, Peter, and Remus stood up. 
Without delay, you stood up so Sirius could exit the booth. James stretched before slapping your ass. You walked with them wherever they wanted to go. You figured for a couple weeks you would have to be seen everywhere with them before you could ditch them to be alone when they didn’t want you. 
They spent almost the entire rest of the day in Hogsmeade. Peter squeezed your ass as you all entered the common room. No one else was there but you guys so he had no qualms about changing into a rat. You squeaked in surprise at the Animagus form but picked the rat up and carried him up the stairs. Peter leaned against the doorway as you packed up all your stuff. He snorted at seeing the cat your roommates stole for them that one time. His eyes roamed over everything. You had a lot of weird shit. 
“They actually try to kill you?” 
He chuckled a bit when you nodded and pointed to the pillow that you were leaving behind. The Marauders rolled their eyes when you and Peter returned with all your stuff. They moved all their trunks to the front of their beds so they could move the desks around and create the tiniest space for you. You stacked your two trunks against the wall to create a makeshift headboard. 
Remus duplicated his mattress for you. Finnegan’s cat bed was put on top of the third trunk at the foot of the mattress that was going to act like your desk. It was lucky that the others only owned owls. Finnegan didn’t have to adjust to new pets. You barely finished putting up your stuff when you felt yourself get grabbed and put on a bed. Without making a fuss, Peter murmured the vanishing spell and you found yourself completely naked. On instinct, you covered yourself as the boys just stared. Remus clicked his tongue. 
“Not bad, less tits than I thought. Alright, Riddle, turn around.” 
Shaking a bit, you started to move. Apparently too slow for their liking, you felt yourself get turned over. Peter grabbed his wand, muttered a birth control spell, and then pulled you up by the hips. You inhaled sharply as he entered you. He didn’t even wait for any adjustment, just kept pushing himself until he was fully in. His hand snaked around to start rubbing your clit as he rocked you back and forth on him, needing you more wet so it would be enjoyable for him. 
On some principle, you knew that first times were merely a concept. But that wasn’t what you were taught. And after reading so many romance books, you didn’t care how others talked about it, you wanted it to be the special times like the books. You were hoping to at least face them, get a kiss… maybe even someone say you looked pretty. Peter started going faster to chase his high. The pain and discomfort started to turn into weird pleasure. 
“Tummy feels funny,” you tried to warn someone. 
They all laughed. Peter slapped your ass before grabbing your hair and pulling you up. 
“It’s called cumming.”
Your romance books were wrong in the descriptions, then. It felt a lot different from what you had read. Peter jerked your head back slightly.
“You need to ask us permission.”
“Please,” you whispered. “Can I cum, please?”
“No.” He pushed you back down.  
You felt the warmth of his release and soon Peter pulled away. You were pulled by your ankles to the edge of the bed so your bottom half was hanging slightly off it— your feet would’ve been touching the ground if it wasn’t for the rough pace that James set. He groaned and Peter chuckled. 
“She’s tight isn’t she?” 
“Her pussy’s got a fuckin’ grip.”
“That good?” Remus asked, sitting on the bed. 
“Riddle’s good for one thing.” He pulled all the way out to slam back in. “Made to take a cock.” 
They started talking about you like you weren’t there. You listened as they started naming all the things that they wanted to do to you. Taking you all at once made you nervous. This already felt like too much with one of them at a time. You heard a lot of things that you were unsure about. Getting tied up, edging, choking, messing with you in class. But not a single soft thing was mentioned. Of course not. They made it clear that you were a plaything and not their sub. You buried your face in the mattress when one of them threw out the word whore and it stuck. Remus’ face was suddenly next to you as Sirius replaced James. 
“Snogging doesn’t make you a whore, Princess, but this does. This is what you’re gonna be, right, a good little whore for us?”
Peter, who cleaned himself up and was now dressed, smacked your ass. “Letting four guys fuck you all ‘cause you can’t take a few jinxes. Pathetic.” 
Sirius groaned. “Call her that again.” 
“Did she clench up, did you mean to, sweetheart? Getting worked up at being called our pathetic slut?” 
You were just trying to hold back on the funny feeling and your stomach knotting up. Taking a chance, you looked at Peter. 
“Can I cum? Please. Can I?” 
“No.” 
You nodded and dropped your head back against the mattress, hoping that Sirius would be done sooner rather than later. Remus grabbed your hips and sunk into you. The other three were either cleaning themselves up. Your bottom was sore as Remus pounded in and out of you. They said they wouldn’t always take you like this but you felt that more often than not you would have to deal with all four of them. You winced when Remus pulled out. 
“Go pee before you get an STI,” he said, more clinical than caring. 
They watched you wobble over to their bathroom. Your eyes squeezed shut as you went to the bathroom. No one said that it would hurt a little bit. You flushed the toilet and looked at yourself in the mirror. You couldn’t even give yourself a pep talk. So you just washed your hands and went back into the room. They didn’t bother you as you dug through your trunk for some pajamas. 
(part 3)
PERMANENT TAGLIST:
@venomsvl @peaches-n-sunscreen @summerellaz @supernaturallover2002 @sambucky8 @9daykrisr @thebitchinleo @23victoria @scarlets-widow @pagetpagetpagetpaget @lovexnatasha @awesomebooklover17 @1234-angelika @imatrisk @blackreaderatrisk @princess-jules47 @alexloveskili @a-marie-a @siriuslysirius1107
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gamma-squad · 3 years
Text
The Ultimate Gamma Squad Fic Rec List
From Angst to Fluff to Reveals, fanfiction will make you cry :D
Adrinette
Double Blind Date -  Alya knows Ladybug and Chat Noir's identities, and now that they're finally in the same city at the same time, she is determined to get them to meet.
The Bravery of Adrien Agreste -  adrien ends up living on the streets for a while, it's extremely well written and has also adrien marrying marinette to emancipate from his father.  There's also a sequel, the Bravery of Marinette Dupain-Cheng, which the author is currently writing. 
Lovelace -  Convinced that he's unlovable, Adrien is quickly thrown for a loop when Marinette confesses her love for him out of the blue. An akumatization and reveal later, he changes his mind about being unlovable.
The Bravery of Marinette Dupain-Cheng -  After the defeat of Hawkmoth, Adrien and Marinette are strangers to each other, but somehow… married? - Sequel to The Bravery of Adrien Agreste
Soulmate Survey -  A brand new dating app hits the scene, giving you a percentage of how well you match with someone else. And it is taking the world, and certain teenagers, by storm.
Cats are Colorblind! - Reverse Crush AU - Ladynoir/Adrinette - Adrien is blind but he can... feel Marinette’s features? Which happen to be the same ones as Ladybugs (Reveal)
have the stars blotted out in a brilliant morse code - Fluffy Adrinette moments and reveal? beautiful
Strength - Crack/Fluff oneshot with a reveal
Marry That Girl -  Adrien finds Marinette’s plans for their wedding and just falls
League of Losers - Slightly Different Superhero AU with crack angst and fluff
You, Me & A Little Bit of the Future - future ladynoir asks adrinette to babysit and everythings cute
Practice Makes Purr-fect - Adrinette/Ladynoir + Reveal and kisses (all you need in life <3)
wish you were here - demon au, adrien is just really confused
The Moving Statue - AKDJSSD - Adrinette + Reveal
Operation Mega-Sleepover - Adrinette Sleepover Shenanigans
Butt Dial - Marinette butt dials Adrien and all his plans for a normal afternoon jumped out the window (Reveal)
The Wedding Plans of Marinette Dupain-Cheng - Adrien finds Marinette’s wedding guest list for their future wedding and he’s like ‘WHERE AM I?’ (boy you’re the groom)
Plagg Meets Marinette
i hope that fate will forgive us (for tempting the sea) - mermaid royalty au and arranged marriages - Felix x Bridgette and Adrinette - also the author is v nice <33
The Player and the Princess - Childhood friends turned enemies turned lovers <3
take me back- By marvelousmsmol
By Design - By marvelousmsmol (Still going!)
Graine de toi - By komorebirei (Still going? I’m not sure)
Smoulder - By midnightstarlightwrites (this is adorable and full of ships! Also, finished 36/36).
Lucky Us - By PrincessKitty1 (Sigh, it’s too cute! Finished 30/30).
Facades -   AU with dark!Adrien. Has even a short sequel (lovesquare but mainly centered around the two main ships)
 Kiss shy - By emsylcatac (This is a great one-shot!)
i don't have a latte but give me a shot - By marvelousmsmol (The one-shot, i wish was a series).
 Under Lock and Key - By EdenDaphne, Maerynn (the antics! Finish 10/10)
The Woman With Blue Eyes - By ghostgirl19 (One-shot!)
 Friends By Day, Enemies By Night - By Dristi5683 (This is 49/49, there’s also marichat and angst ladynoir)
A Bride for the Prince - by ChocoluckChipz (Totally_lucky) and TheNovelArtist
Penumbra - Adrienette hurt comfort, rated M for serious topics like implied noncon as a minor
keep me in your thoughts - adrienette soulmate au
Passionfruit- Adrienette soulmate au series with 3 parts
a chat in disneyland - pretty self explanatory, chat noir antics and slightly traumatized workers, everythings great
Finding Diamonds in the Rough -  A prince escaping the confines of his castle. A girl who saves a naive visitor. The connection built between these two of different worlds. Welcome to another Arabian night.
Out of Your Hair -  Adrien wants to support Kitty Section during their first large concert in the park, but dad says no. So of course there’s only one way this can go
Infatuation - Adrinette childhood enemies to ‘I hate you but i seriously want to kiss you’
Blindsided - Adrinette/Ladynoir - Ladybug gets hit by an akuma and goes blind but hey! Adrien/Chat Noir is literally the most amazing person ever and that helps (Reveal)
Just a Friendly Game Night -  The four teenagers arrange a game night at Marinette’s house. What could go wrong
Just Best Friends -  The sequel to ‘Just a Friendly Game Night’ where the teenagers deal with what went wrong
We’ve Got It Covered -  Marinette needs to create a concept album cover design for Jagged Stone, but when she can’t get anything, the stress builds…
Le Prix du Silence -   this is in French, by Etoile-lead-Sama, but it's so worth google translating! Especially her inverted umbrella scene where Marinette gives the umbrella back to Adrien because she wants to rid her feelings for him and in that moment he realises that he's in love with her…  *heartbreak* but it's all wonderful and her slow burn is exceptional
Shop, Bake, Eat... - Crack, mature humor and content
Having a Ball - Adrien and Marinette attend a Victorian ball without recognizing each other.
In Which Adrien Agreste Butt Dials Ladybug - Based on NY Special, what if Adrien kept the remote to the cat toy in his back pocket?
The Jacket - Marinette gives a black jacket to Adrien and he thinks she's figured him out. 
Stuck In A Bakery (With You) -  during the pandemic, Adrien gets stuck in the bakery with Marinette and family. 
MariChat:
Chat Got Your Back - Lila I don’t like you and neither does Chat
Burgundy and Blush -  Marinette needs a date for the dance, and Chat Noir is happy to help. But can the two teens in denial make it through the night without catching feelings?
The Trouble With Kissing Boys -  When an akuma handcuffs Chat Noir and Marinette together, true feelings are revealed… but only to get the cuffs off. Really
double jeu -  An injured Chat Noir leads to a frantic Marinette and frequent midnight visits neither of them had expected to get used to.
Lace or Leather - Sequel to Burgundy and Blush
Stand-In Journalist - MariChat being besties
spark - marichat dating app shenanigans
Forget-Me-Not  -  Marinette looses her memories a little bit (unfinished)
Jealousy - Onesided reveal and then it turns into a love confession and a reveal
When Duty and Desire Meet - By EdenDaphne, midnightstarlightwrites. (Still going! Its so romantic, the yellow rose hits me the most)
Selfless - By ghostgirl19 ( I wish this fic was still going but it’s not! It’s discontinued!! T~T)
The Cat, the Bell, and the Wardrobe (Malfunction) - ChocoluckChipz (Totally_lucky), Eizabet, KryallaOrchid, Maerynn, midnightstarlightwrites. (I know the embracement... It’s also a one-shot!)
The Wingman Visits - By NiuNiu. (This is completed with 16/16 and rated mature!).
I Won’t Hold You Back - THE BEST PROM FIC YOU’LL EVER READ. Adrien invites Mari to prom. In which Adrien Awkward Awkward Awkward Athanase  Agreste makes an appearance. 
A Gamer’s Pride - No miraculous but they’re video game partners and they hate each other but they like each other and HHHHHHHH
Diamonds never leave you... men do! - Marinette the cop and Chat Noir the criminal (they’re dating <3)
Kiss and Dash -  It starts of when Marinette kisses Adrien on a dare and runs off but it really spirals out of control when Chat Noir takes revenge with his own kiss and dash. Do all people kiss the same way? Adrienette/Marichat/Ladynoir/Ladrien. - I THINK I ASCENDED WHILE READING THE FIRST CHAPTER
No Longer Running From -  After an Akuma attack, Marinette runs off in order to avoid Chat Noir, but she didn’t count on him being so willing to come after her.
Chat Blanc - Chat Blanc fights with reveals and Adrien being a good person even when akumatized
Worries - Chat is very concerned for the well-being of Marinette who he has noticed, decides to run into akuma battles in a very much not safe way
Rooftop Tears and Gentle Hugs [Vent] -  Marinette goes mute for a week, and everybody is worried. It seems only a concerned Chat is the one to finally reach her.
Tendencies - (series) lots of good writing starting out as marichat and then a reveal
Just Chatting -  Chat crashes onto Marinette's balcony and continues to visit. Marinette finds herself impulsively getting closer to him, and then everything goes to shit.
Reves de Noir et Blanc - LISTEN. MARICHAT HURT/COMFORT AFTER A NIGHTMARE MAKES ME FEEL CERTAIN THINGS
Physical Touch - Chat Noir, my amazing child, is touch starved. Marinette is happy to help with some cuddles
It’s Okay to Cry - THE SUMMARY ALONE GOT ME FEELING SOME STUFF LET MARINETTE SHOW EMOTION -  Marinette feels the burden of not letting her negative emotions show, since Ladybug cannot let herself be akumatized, no matter what. A cat is there to let her vent.
heartstrings - HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA - they frggin kiss and its dramatic and teenage drama and romace 
Crushed - Stuck under a collapsed building together, Chat Noir and Marinette have a heart to heart.  (Reveal)
Every Heartbeat: A Marichat May 2021 Story:  -   Reeling from a brutally difficult day, Marinette finds her life becomes amazingly complicated after impulsively inviting Chat Noir to spend the evening with her. But when the suave feline begins to weave his way into her heart, she realizes rather quickly just how conflicted her feelings for her partner truly are.
A Roll of the Dice - AVERT YOUR EYES INNOCENT CHILDREN - mature (obviously) Alya gives Marinette an adult dice set and at night time, Chat Noir dares her to use it. 
tell me something i don’t know - the infamous marichat soulmate au by the beloved carpisuns
Trading (Momentary) Burdens - UM. YOU HAD ON RIGHT?? I AM SAD??- Ladybug gets hurt mid-fight and Chat has to turn into Misterbug to save her
Miraculous Dupont -  Marinette finds herself attacked by Chat Blanc, an akuma at the orders of Hawkmoth. But before the akuma can do any damage, she's saved by Chat Noir, a superhero who is fighting the akumas. Chat Noir senses something in her and takes her to the magical school he attends, Miraculous Dupont, where Master Fu, the head teacher, agrees that she has potential to be a Miraculous holder. So Marinette is thrown into a world of hidden identities, akuma fights and mysteries and ends up by discovering that this whole world wasn't that unknown to her to start with, that the boy behind the mask, of whom she desperately falls in love, wasn't a stranger from her too, and it's all connected to two lucky charms, a seal and a mysterious magical potion she (and her friends) should never have been exposed to...
Tyger, Tyger, Burning Bright -  chat noir gives the tiger miraculous to marinette. I love her concept of the tiger miraculous, so cool!
Terror on La Seine - Villains weren't supposed to help when there are others in need. But can Hawk Moth truly stand aside and do nothing? Especially when a young woman he knows personally is in danger? TW: implied trafficking
Madness Within -  If you want slowburn, feral Chat Noir and dark themes this is a great place to start and I’m super excited for what’s to come. Very highly recommend
you came to me with gold and i mended the pieces -  Adrien gets into a really ugly argument with his father, and as a result the poor boy gets a slap right across the face. In a daze, he runs away from home, transforms, and decides to seek comfort in a really close friend of his.
I’ll Be Your (Wing)Man -  When Chat Noir finds Marinette sighing over her failed love life, he decides to help her get the boy of her dreams. Nothing can go wrong here. Absolutely nothing.
The Tendencies Series -  HIGHLY RECOMMEND and will sure to keep you busy for a while
LadyNoir:
A Summer Treat - LadyNoir Icecream date in Shanghai and lovestruck adrien
TKO - LadyNoir workouts and they KISS
Doctor, Doctor, Give me The News (Your Lips Is The Only Cure I Could Use) -   Plagg’s sick, Adrien’s in love, Shit Happens™ 
 Of Yellows, Pinks and Blues - New York Special LadyNoir but with ROSES 
Long Live - LadyNoir based on the song <3
Letters of Lovers - LadyNoir writing down all their feelings on letters BUT THEN AT THE END THEY READ IT + Reveal
A Bad Dream - Ladybug tells Chat about a ‘dream’ where he was Chat Blanc (spoiler alert: it wasn’t a dream)
The Bug and Cat Show - ADKLJSASD READ THIS
You’re My Sight - Adrien is blind but with the miraculous, he can see and this is very much a wonderful thing to happen to him. One day he tells Ladybug.
United - OMFG - ladynoir established relationship (+Reveal)
a nine-year-old - i havent met anyone that hasn’t read this fic but still (im still sorry emsy, i believed you were 9 with my entire heart 😭)
Death By Ladybug - Flirty Ladybug and Flustered Chat Noir
Chat Noir’s White French Man Hitlist For Feminist Purposes - (THIS HAS A PODFIC NOW)
Liquid Luck - LadyNoir Banter + Reveal
Symphony - Adrinette/LadyNoir + Reveal (with the best ending ever omg)
 The Miraculous Tweets of @luckylady and @chatnoir - Internet Shenanigans
Problems - ladynoir fluff
Only a beat a cat can hear - Ladybug tells Chat when he finds out about her blindness that she scared about him leaving her. He’s having none of this self deprecating stuff and reassures her that he loves her a lot and nothing changes that. 
M’Lady - THEIR LAST DAYS AS SUPERHEROES :’’’’))) (Reveal)
It was just a cheek kiss! - Ladybug slowly falling for Chat and them finally getting together (my friends thought I was getting murdered when I readthis. So many screams)
Discordant Sonata - EdenDaphne (Still going!)
like poles of a magnet - By maketea (8/8! It's finished!)
From the Ashes - By MiniMinou (Finish! Btw this is angst and mature rated)
Ladybug and Chat Noir's Guide to the Rooftops of Paris - PipTheMagnificent (One-shot!)
 in the dead of night, your eyes so green - this ones by miraculouslycool so you know its good 
 Day 7: Interview - Chat Noir being cute with kids
Misunderstanding - LadyNoir Identity Shenanigans <3
Not Kitten Around, Badylug - the road to reveal, integrating parts of S4, all in mobile texts. Sweet, funny. The kind of pick-me up you need after an angsty ep.
Two Seconds -  perfect for a light morning read.
i think it’s time i told you (im a fan of your universe) - LadyNoir (AND THEY GET MARRIED)
It’s Not PDA If You’re Just Friends - They’re just friends! Friends can kiss each others shoulders and spin each other around, right?
I Guess That Makes Us Even - Chat Noir dying = REALLY SAD LADYBUG AND COMFORT - its by buggchat so you already know its simply superior
Red Strings and Markers - Soulmate AU my beloved
little kitty on the rood, wearing his lady’s boxers - Adrien in Ladybug boxers, Marinette in the pool with her pjamas, Adrien uses his one braincell and realizes some pretty shocking things (Reveal)
dont let me die alone - okay so you may get a lil sad but you know
Return to Base - LadyNoir laser tag baby, Adrienette laser tag with LadyNoir dynamic, reveal
The Ladyblog Comment Section - they like to annoy alya in the comments. and flirt. but they dont realize the last part yet
Irreplaceable -  Adrien is insecure. Marinette doesn't let anyone talk bad about her partner.
Where are you Chat Noir? -  As the final battle unfolds to their defeat, Hawkmoth and Mayura use plan b and withdraw in a 'Sentiworld', a parallel reality created with an Amok. What's worse, they drag Chat Noir with them. What's even worse, Ladybug can't say goodbye, or I love you. Guilty and desperate, what will she be ready to sacrifice to get her partner back? (Rated R for mature content)
Kitty Chat Kisses -  Give Chat more kisses please, this was so sweet and cute and sad and just...someone give Chat some hugs and kisses and tell him he did a good job
i’ll marry you - Chat Noir talks to his sleepy girlfriend about their future.
Upon the Eiffel Tower, They Reveal it All. -  Chat Noir spots Ladybug heading towards the Eiffel tower without telling him, and when he checks on her, finds out more than he thought he would.
Two Hundred and Fifty Four -  aspik angst :’)
Ladrien:
bang bang - KISSES
whose woods these are (I think I know) - FIRST OF ALL, its a cinderella au and its MAGNIFICENT - Four years after his future turns to cinders, Adrien is a servant in the house he was meant to inherit. Disowned by his father and abused by his stepmother, his days are filled with drudgery until he meets a masked huntress in the forest behind his father's chateau.As his friendship with Ladybug turns to first love, he dreams of a future spent at her side.Then, on the eve of the Princess's masquerade, he meets his guardian—and is granted a wish.
The Tell-Tale Kiss - Adrien gets discouraged when Ladybug turns down Paris’ favorite cat every time. But what if Paris’ favorite model asks her?
The Cat and His Daffodils -  I adore Hanahaki AU’s and this was one was really good and wonderfully angsty.
Post/One Sided Reveal: 
Serendipitous Fate -  With Hawkmoth growing stronger, Chat Noir and Ladybug need to practice. And get teammates. And grow stronger together. Which means learning each other’s identity, no matter the risks. Unfinished, but worth it. Also, there is some smut near the end, but the author warns the reader on the exact chapter and it is very skippable
switch it up - Adrien uses the Ladybug miraculous and everyone simps even harder
Remember That Time When... - Marinette is ready to enjoy her wedding anniversary with her wondrful husband. Except when she wakes up, she’s not going to be able to celebrate her anniversary. In fact, she’s seventeen again.
Divide By Infinity - Post-Reveal Adrinette being adorable and looking at LadyNoir moments
Bad Day - Adrien finds out Marinette’s Ladybug on the toilet and everything just does downhill from there
Get Agrekt - Post Reveal + Drunk Adrien my beloved
Under The Stars - PROPOSAL
Do You Hear That, Love? - Post-Reveal angst and babies
Side Effects of Paw-esome Merch: Model Chokes on Air - Post Reveal Marinette making my poor boy adrien consciously try not to die by wearing Chat Noir merch
Serotonin Boosts - ADRIEN LOVES HIS GIRLFRIEND OKAY?
When the Wedding Bells Toll - Post Reveal Adrinette pretend to date to get free food at a wedding (ha ha guess who fell in love againnnn)
All You Had to Do Was Stay - first of all, OOF - Marinette and Adrien reveal their identities and he panics and Marinette, three years later, sees him again for Alya’s wedding with the urge to both kiss him and punch him in the face
Adrinette April Day 23: Sunset - CUTE FLUFFY PEOPLE (its by sketchy-panda)
Forget-Me-Not - written way before oblivio but basically, oblivio
The Wall Between Us -  Lukanette, Adrigami, Alya finding out, lovesquare reveal, Adrien finding out Gabe is Hawkmoth, then theres Adrinette being in love and MarcNath walking in them making out. Its a whole vibe. Two Seconds was written in response to this :D
Mari Me - CHRISTMAS PROPOSALS AND CHILDREN ARE BEAUTIFUL OKAY?
Trolling Alya -  After Adrien and Marinette reveal their identities to each other, instead of going right into dating, they agree to just be friends and take their time. Alya is not having it.
The Biological Imperative - excellent explicit story with an interesting concept about tikki being able to freeze the power of all miraculouses in her box in case of marinette's pregnancy. Adrienette of course. 
The Closest Thing to Love - god i love a good fake dating story - post reveal Aged Up - adrien decides that the best way to gain independence from his dad was to get married. To who you ask? Of course its his lady, Marinette Dupain Cheng. Nothing could go wrong! They’re just friends after all.
Not A Ship But Hella good Stories
Papa Bear -  In which Tom is the one to figure out Adrien’s home life is putting him in danger and helps Adrien escape.
Nooroo Uses a Swear Word -  He really, really does. But he has a very good reason, so... let's hear him out, shall we? Crackfic, one-shot.
Move to Safety - Sort of a longer take on the ‘ Adrien runs away and seeks shelter with the Dupain-Chengs’. Involves the final battle and Adrien knowing Gabe is Hawkmoth. 
I Know, Kid - Plagg has a very important conversation with his holder when they return home after defeating Guiltrip.
Chat Noir is My Science Teacher - When Mattheu Magan witnesses his chemistry teacher, Adrien Dupain-Cheng, transform into his favorite superhero Chat Noir, he becomes the Monkey Miraculous holder Monkid, going on adventures and learning what it means to be a hero alongside under his new meow-ntor. (OC, Adventure, Aged-up - Yall ive only known Mattheu for like, a month BUT I LOVE HIM WITH ALL MY HEART)
Won’t Tell a Soul - Nino finds out that Marinette is Ladybug and keeps the secret. Kind of. 
Motherfucking Superheroes - Directly following the events of the season 3 finale, Alya Cesaire decides to create a groupchat with all the known Miraculous holders, which sets off an investigation into Ladybug’s identity. (Crack, Groupchat/Text fic)
My Boy - Gabriel creates a sentimonster copy of himself to free himself from unimportant matters, but he didn’t expect it to become more human than himself. (Angst, Mentions of torture)
The Malicious Pavilin - Evil gay Emilie is a whole ass mood
Never Sing At Home - Based on that ‘hey, bad news and good news. Bad news, Hawkmoth knows my identity, good news, I know his!’ prompt on tumblr
Bite off more than you can chew and you’ll choke - Lila gets exposed fics my beloved
ouef, ouch, owie - Chat and Rena plan some Aspik-related shenanigans to cover up Chat’s secret identity when Ladybug decides to have all the Miraculous heroes train together. (Crack)
What the Cat Dragged In - MCU Crossover
the last day on earth - Chat Blanc angst is top-tier
Air Miraculous - Miraculous but with Basketball and Shoes
how the strings intertwine - MDC Fic - UNFINISHED BUT AMAZING
Nine Lives - Hurt/Comfort, Adrien Centric
In Good Hands -  in which Ladybug tells Chat Noir about her new confidant and Chat chooses his own.
How Nino Waged War with Gabriel Agreste - By ChocolateXMyMouth (Still going!)
The Inappropriate Touching Talk -  this is another pure crack. Gabriel finds out that Adrien "touches inappropriately" Marinette and decides to have "the talk" (or rather have someone else have the talk with him)
Broken - Cop AU with lots of angst :D
Informant - miracuclass group chat au with identity shenanigans 
Lucky Fox Paradox - Marinette gives succeeds in giving Alya the ladybug miraculous. And regrets it. Enter, the fox miraculous.
“I have plan” - based on the ‘Ladybug joins the fight as multimous and she and rena rouge won’t let adrien leave to transform and its just crack’
Sting -  Chat Noir mysteriously vanished, and as much as Ladybug hates it, she can’t do her job alone. Which is why she decides to give Adrien to bee miraculous until her partner returns!
Accidental Dates - The four friends make a group chat to plan game nights. Some people tend to take it further
Leave for Mendeleiev -  Marinette is in Mendeleiev’s class instead of Bustier’s, meaning new friends and different relationships
Ridiculous, Utterly Ridiculous - rejected one time too many, Chat Noir ends in tears on someone's balcony. No, not Marinette's. Chloé's. And no, it doesn't end with an adrikloe (or how it's called). Chloé actually ends up being a good friend (*insert ohhhh of surprise*)
I’ll Handle This - Adrien accepts a deal with Plagg for the black kwami to resolve his problems. And Plagg succeeds. 
let’s get covered in flames and play some games with the smoke -  1920s enemies to lovers soulmates au that makes me want to jump off a building in a good way
Ruffled -  Harry Potter AU
Passionfruit -  Adrienette soulmate au series with 3 parts
Repetition -  One day adrien stumbles upon hawkmoth’s lair. In response, Gabe wipes his memory and is done with it. until it happens again, and again, and again…
Bite Me. -  Vampire!Alya one-shot. Really good world-building in this one chapter alone!
“I have a plan.” -  Really funny one-shot where Marinette’s idea of going in as Multimouse doesn’t exactly pan out how she wanted it to.
Back to Us -  After a reveal so shocking it rocks the core of Paris itself, the villain Hawk Moth is finally defeated...at a great personal cost to heroes Ladybug and Chat Noir. With the city safe, they go their separate ways, returning to the lives they were forced to put on hold since receiving their Miraculous.
Free Falling - Fantastic story with amazing and well written themes that I really just adored reading. Beautifully written and wonderful plot/story
Other Ships (outside of Love Square):
The Worst and Best Thing - GabeNath, drama and angst with a happy ending
Operation Lovebirds -  DJWifi - Alya and Nino try and get Adrien and Marinette together, and get more than they thought they would
Phase Eight - Sequel to Operaton Lovebirds -  Three years after the failure of Operation Lovebirds, Alya and Nino’s relationship is tested when Alya comes across a startling secret.
Cola Date - DJWifi -  When Alya finds herself on a date with the wrong guy she searches for unconventional help to get her out of this. Luckily, the cute waiter doesn't mind to help her out with a favor.
Soundless - Lukadrien - Luka has the Ladybug Miraculous and can pretty much tell who’s Chat Noir
Hotdogs and Icecream - Lukagami - Luka and Kagami hanging out while Adrinette are being in love during the NY Special
1K notes · View notes
kiridarling · 3 years
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𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐄𝐍 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓.
request | Can I have royalty au (soon to be king bakugou) (and soon to be queen reader) , katsuki and reader are supposed to be getting married (not to eachother) but they end up sneaking around and doing IT with eachother so top!kats , exhibition , begging , dumbification and spanking THANK YOU💞💞
this lovely request was submitted for the kissing booth event (the rest of the drabbles come out soon, ahem :)) so, if this was your request, um...hAHA whoops.
katsuki bakugou | f!reader, royalty!au, infidelity, nondescript!fiancés, angst (gasp), fingering, exhibitionism, dumbification + more! minors dni!
— 3.7k words
“C'mon, princess...can I make you feel good once last time?
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You're getting married.
No more ignorance is bliss, no more I didn't know any better—this is when you put all your childish antics to the side and fucking woman up, now in charge of the safety of your kingdom and its inhabitants and whatnot. So yes, you must snuff all your adolescent tendencies, and that includes sleeping with the Crowned Prince of the neighboring kingdom behind your fiancé's backs.
But, boys are stubborn. And stupid.
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Ding ding ding!
"Excuse me, Everyone!" Your fiancé announces to the crowd in your dining room as he stumbles to his feet, spoon clinking against his glass. He nearly trips, but no one sees except yourself. "I would like to make a toast."
You frown. This wasn't a part of the rehearsal dinner.
"First of all, I would like to thank you all for being able to be with us tonight," he says, shoving the glass higher in the air. As red wine splashes over the rim, you think to remind him that isn't a toast, it's the beginning of a speech, but your comments have rarely deterred the man in the past. "As you’re all aware, this marriage is vital. Not only for our kingdom, but for the neighboring kingdom as well."
Your fiancé regards the Bakugou’s with a lift of his chalice. In the coming weeks, two arranged marriages will melt the four most influential kingdoms into two, and your fiancé and his family had the genius to throw a massive Gala to celebrate it. You wouldn’t be surprised if they got off to the idea of stretching themselves so thin their hair falls out at age thirty; they won’t even allow you to choose the type of dress for your wedding.
"I would also like to thank my lovely, lovely wife, for just being so... lovely.” Your fiancé chuckles, accompanied by an uncomfortable massage to your shoulder. The guests find amusement in how whipped he is as he gazes your way expectantly, conceivably wishing to see you swoon at the compliment. All you give him is a blank face. His elation falters.
"You know, when I first met this woman, I knew she was going to be the love of my life," your fiancé shakes your glare off. You purposely block out the rest of his story in favor of folding and unfolding your napkin again, puffing under your breath at the cheesy comment.
"Sap," you grunt to yourself, obviously. You don't expect anyone to hear, but there's a snort to your right. Your eyes lift from your lap—and straight into Katsuki's smug blood red ones. He winks at you from across the table and your eyes roll at that, though there's a small smile playing on your face that's impossible to hide.
"Isn't that right [Y/N]!...[Y/N]?"
You blink yourself back to life, eyes reluctantly leaving Katuski's hypnotic ones for the pair that make you nauseous, "Oh—u-um, yep!"
The place bursts in laughter and there's even a little smile dancing on Katsuki's face. He catches you staring so your eyes divert to your lap, but his remain a physical force against you for the rest of the night.
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*selene — the greek goddess of the moon
The balcony is much nicer than the ballroom.
For one, it's the farthest place you could have gone from the commotion, all the way on the opposite side of the castle. It's a solid five-minute walk when you aren't in heels and a heavy petticoat, but it provides a lovely view of your front yard, subjecting you to watch the early-sleepers leave in their carriages to call it a night. Meanwhile, *Selene watches you from her telescope the moon with a sigh and a sad smile, because she's the only one who knows how completely and utterly alone you will be.
You glare at her—the goddess doesn't waver.
Bitch.
It's no secret that Gala’s like these get overwhelming—especially when you're the center of attention. You see Lord Shinsou (Earl) stuff the eager Lord Kaminari (Baron) into his silver-plated carriage before looking around to ensure no one saw, and blanche upon seeing your figure stood on the balcony. You salute so he knows his secret is safe with you, and relief washes over his face before he too hops into the carriage. What a scandal, you giggle.
Plenty of couples resign home after that; it makes you uneasy. You're unsure as to why, but you have the ever-increasing urge to nip at your fingernails until you don't have them anymore, and jamming the sharpest point of your heel into the concrete seems like the only proper way to release enough kinetic energy before you explode.
"He loves me."
He does, embarrassingly so—so what's the issue?
There isn't an issue; there shouldn't be. He reminds you how pretty you are and you compliment his influence. Neither of you are marrying down. You look good together. The kingdom's future power couple if you will, where you two supposedly mold the great future in your peculiarly young hands. There isn't an issue. You're the one for him, and he's the one for you.
The balcony door whines open. You don't turn around, praying whoever it is will see that it's occupied and turn the other cheek. Yet, the stomp of whoever's boots only grow louder until you’re adjacent to a shadow of a being, his chin lifted towards the stars. You catch a glimpse of blond hair, though dyed a pale white by the silver moon, and you two stand in a strangely comfortable silence, watching carriages roll out of your driveway.
The silence doesn’t last for long, though. It never does.
"D’ya always go disappearing like that?"
You frown. "What?"
"I don't fuckin' know," Katsuki grumbles—he has yet to look at you. Seems like Selene captures more than one person's attention tonight. "Blinked and you were gone."
Your frown only deepens, and you return your attention to the courtyard. "I didn't know you were paying attention."
The ash-blond presses his forearms against the railing for support. "I wasn't. He was."
Oh.
"Said he wants you to come back, so," Katsuki clicks his tongue, carmine red eyes finally flicking your way through the darkness. You don’t dare look at him. “You run off often, or what?"
"Tell him I'll come back in a second," you sigh, balancing your face in your hand. Katsuki says nothing, but he doesn't leave, and you hate that you don't mind.
Until he points towards a couple crossing the lawn and says, "Oi, that's the Duke from my fiancé's kingdom. Fucker tried to poison my dad for the throne—straightened him out real quick.”
"Why are you talking to me?" You snap like a cornered animal. Katsuki lifts an eyebrow.
"What? I can't have a goddamn conversation?"
"I—" your chest rises and falls with a reason to why he can't, but you can only come up with one—and you don't want to think about it.
"Listen. I don't like these things either, alright?" He huffs defensively, so defensively that you have to take a step back. "If I have the opportunity to get some fresh air, I'm gonna fuckin' take it."
You shrug, supposing it makes you one and the same. The wind blows, not harsh, but harsh enough to ruffle your gown, and make the gold jewelry decorating Katsuki's tunic jingle.
“So. I guess this is it, ain’t it?”
You sigh, “Katsuki, you know we—“
"Yeah yeah, that's all you fuckin' say," he growls bitterly, and you blink in a poor attempt to find where the animosity came from. His face twists in an ugly way as he sits his hands on his hips, nose scrunched to mockingly pitch his voice that doesn't sound like yours at all. "We can't, we shouldn't—"
"Because we shouldn't!" You nearly shout, and Katsuki jumps from how quickly you raise your voice. "Because—because if we get caught, we're fucked. And I can't go to sleep terrified that I'll wake up to an exposé tomorrow morning and get beheaded by the afternoon. So...please. Just stop."
Katsuki clicks his tongue.
"You don't love that asshole."
Your throat feels tight—much too tight to be comfortable, and your chest rises and falls with disbelief as you search for the words before you can talk again, eyes never dropping from the stars. You've had this conversation, fuck, you have it too often; often enough to know that he would say those exact words, and enough to know precisely what you'll say in response.
"I love him, Katsuki."
"No, no you fuckin' don't," the ash-blond chucks a laugh and it's nothing short of acrid, his words eating away at your skin more than you'd like them to. You sigh, resting your forearms on the railing too.
"I'm not having this conversation with you."
"Always gotta be so goddamn emotionally unavailable, huh?" He growls, glare set on the mountains presented in front of you. You feel his suit jacket hit your freezing shoulders, unaware of the cool temperatures until you feel the cloth brush against goosebumps. It’s your turn to laugh bitterly.
“Careful. People might think we’re getting married to each other.”
“One day you’ll let me fuckin’ live,” he grunts, and your eyes meet for the first time. His usual red is dyed a deep purple by the moonlight, their usual hardness traded for something much softer. “Can’t even give you a jacket when you’re shivering like a goddamn leaf in the wind.”
You give him a look of utter exhaustion because you’re tired—tired of all this running around and hiding, the secrecy. It eats at your insides like a caterpillar does a leaf, knowing that you go to sleep every night to a man who’ll barely touch you, but at the same time, feeling guilty that you don’t need nor want him to.
“Why are you here?”
Katsuki clicks his tongue. His warm body settles behind yours, close enough to feel the warmth but not close enough to feel him. “You looked lonely.”
“I thought my fiancé told you to get me?” You ask, raising a suspicious eyebrow. Katsuki rolls his eyes, his arms settling on both sides of yours.
“He did. But I didn’t refuse the damn request either.”
“You saw my loneliness all the way from the ballroom. What an eyesight,” you scoff. Katsuki’s eyes narrow, but it’s clear he’s fighting a grin because you’re a little shit who loves giving him a hard time. The ash-blond’s chest rises and falls, and he bites the inside of his cheek.
“You know what I mean.”
You snort, tilting your head to the right. You suppose you do.
“And I’m marrying a bitch,” he adds to his list of grievances, his hands finding yours to gently play with your fingers. You nod in agreement. A bitch she is.
“And...I’m really going to fuckin’ miss you.”
It might as well pass for nothing but a breath, eyes trained on your held hands. His chest suspends like he has more to say, but his teeth tear at the inside of his cheek before he can. “I—fuck, I get it, okay? I’m a selfish asshole—“
“This doesn’t have to do wit—“
“And I really, really need to get my fuckin’ priorities straight. I mean, they are, just not in the way they should be.”
“Hey,” you chastise, shaking his hands for his attention. “You can’t control who you love, okay?"
Katsuki grumbles at that but you refuse, turning around to look him in the eyes.
"And neither can I.”
You let go of his hands in favor of pulling him down via his cheeks and giving him a big fat kiss on the lips. It’s peckish and brief, but it’s sweet and gets your point across. It's comfortable.
“The hell was that for?” Katsuki asks once you pull away. Though you see him struggle to hide a grin, eyes squinting more than they should.
“Easy,” you say, stepping forwards (as if there’s any space for that), “You looked lonely.”
Katsuki snorts, dropping his head, “Bastard.”
“And I’m being married off to an asshole,” you lament, pulling his face so close to the point you’re sure the strain on his back has got to be anything but sexy. He accommodates anyways—Katsuki always has; and night seems to suspend along with his baited breath as he waits for the next line, eyes shining with a painful hope you’re about to confirm.
“And I’m really, really going to miss you,” you say, shaking your head at how utterly true that statement is. Fuck.
The vulnerability slowly fades from his eyes at that, and Katsuki hums, clammy hands finding their rightful place around your hips.
“You shouldn’t call him an asshole, you know,” he says, face inching so close you can smell the champagne on his breath. “He means well.”
“I didn’t know you cared,” you quip back, raising an eyebrow. Katsuki shrugs, and you don’t realize he’s backing you up until your back kisses the cool railing.
“Well. I can’t help but feel a little bad,” he says cheekily as he inches closer, “‘Cause I make you feel so good, don’t I, Princess? Last time I checked, better than he ever could.”
You scoff at his audacity though it’s all good-natured, eyes preferring the moon over his heated gaze as he turns you around to face the courtyard.
“Ah, ah,” he tuts, redirecting your attention using a finger on your jaw, “Eyes on me, Princess. You look really fuckin’ pretty under the stars, y’know.”
You snort at the compliment, rolling your eyes.
“‘M serious. A fuckin’ goddess,” he growls, leaving wet kisses up the column of your neck. Your breath hitches as he reaches your sweet spot and sucks, and you’re swatting him away before he can leave a mark.
“I sai—“
“One last time, Princess,” he bargains lowly as his hot hands slide their way from your waist to your breasts, taking their sweet time. Katsuki hooks his chin on your shoulder. “Lemme—Can I make you feel good one last time?”
You’re nodding with a whimper before you can berate yourself for being so fucking easy, the thought of not being able to indulge yourself with this, with him, any longer tosses any and all resistance out the window.
“Good,” Katsuki hums, tweaking your nipples through the bodice. “‘M gonna pay you back for being so good to me, yeah? For puttin' up with all my shit."
You scoff, mouth dropping to tell him you weren't putting up with his shit, but then a warm hand lands on your thigh—somehow, he's found a way under your dress. The hand slides up inner thigh and you feel Katsuki's chest shudder against your back as he finally reaches where you need him most.
"K-Kats—"
"Shhh, you don't want them to hear us, do you?" He grunts, pulling your panties to the side. You shiver from the change in temperature, watching another Duke and Duchess of half-drunkenly stumble into their carriages for the night, before there's a crack of a whip and hooves beat towards the exit. It's only a reminder of how painfully exposed you two are—one glance towards the balcony and any onlooker would know exactly what's happening. You hate it.
You hate that you don't.
"Atta girl," Katsuki purrs, groaning as he inserts a finger. You shiver, the weight of his being practically trapping you against the railing. "Always so fuckin' tight. I swear that asshole never fucks you right."
Katsuki's never been an impatient man and fills you with a second finger awfully fast, chuckling when you bite into the meat of your palm to hold back a whimper. His hips start to grind against the puff of your dress and he groans as quietly as he can, carelessly shoving down the sleeve of his suit jacket to bite into your shoulder.
You let out a broken moan much too loud for this time of night and it prompts Katsuki's free hand to stuff an equal amount of fingers into your mouth. "Y'know, something tells me you wanna get caught. You want the whole world to know how much you fuckin' hate that bastard, huh?"
You choke as Katsuki slides in a third digit next to the second, the slap of his palm against your pussy becoming nothing but obscene as your slick accentuates the sound. His hips speed up against your ass and that's enough friction to have the ash-blond groaning, along with the spit that drips down his forearm.
"So dirty for me, Princess," his hips stutter when you push back, tongue laving over the bite mark you'll probably have to conceal in the morning. Asshole. "You wanna cum like this, don't you? You're gonna cum all over my fingers in front of the entire royal court. Dumb little girl, can't even keep her mouth shut to keep us from gettin' caught."
You jam your heel into the balcony concrete so hard you positive it cracks before you're coming all over Katsuki's fingers, nearly choking on the ones in your mouth as you release the loudest broken moan you have that night. Katsuki's hips stutter against you and you're positive he's filling his boxers from the airy moan that follows, and his hand goes limp in your mouth before it slides out completely.
Your chests balloon in unison, his body draped over yours, and as you two catch your breath under the moonlight, you can’t help but think how much you’re going to miss this.
"Run away with me."
"I—" he does this. He always does this. He makes you feel on top of the world, acting like everything's fine, and then he pulls this shit on you. You look everywhere but him, nearly scoffing in disbelief. "Katsuki—"
"C'mon, Princess," Katsuki scrambles to flip you by the waist until your back is flush against the railing again and he’s cradling both your hands in his semi-damp ones. There’s a look in his eyes you don’t like, and it makes your chest burn. "Across the sea, people are movin’ over there and I—I know someone there, okay? Someone we could stay with, maybe help us get back on our feet an-and I found a fuckin’ ferry guy to take us across, and I can even pay him a little extra, o-or you, or—"
"Katsuki," you give him a sad smile, squeezing his hands tight. There's hope, too much hope in his eyes and it's fucking blinding. "Running away? I—this is—we have an obligation, we can't jus—"
"It'll be fine," he insists, stepping forwards and squeezing you back twice as hard. You sigh."I—the two kingdoms can merge or whatever the fuck they wanna do and then we'll be—"
"Katsuki."
"I—fuck Princess, I don't beg but goddammit, I'll do whatever you fuckin' want, get on my knees, I ca—"
"You really want to know what I want?"
Katsuki freezes. It's the first time you've ever seen some semblance of emotion in him that isn't anger or lust, with carmine red irises swimming in unshed tears—and fuck, you hate the sight. You want to shoot yourself in the fucking foot for what you’re about to do, but it’s for the best. It always is.
"Love her."
Katsuki looks at you, and his face drops, chest shuddering.
"I can't."
You drop his hands in favor of holding his face, thumbing at the hot tears running as they fall. God, Katsuki’s pretty—too pretty for his own good and he doesn’t even know it. His unsteady hands find themselves massaging your ribs and your foreheads knock together. "You need to try. Love her as much as you love me, yeah?"
"'S fuckin' impossible," Katsuki says with a wet snort, shaking his head with eyebrows raised. You giggle, throat impossibly tight.
"Almost, then? For me."
Katsuki’s red eyes stare at you through the darkness. You have half a mind to look the other way, but you figure you owe him this if nothing else, and as he lovingly absorbs your being under the moonlight for the last time, you really wish you could take your words back.
"I'll...fuck. Fine. I'll try." Katsuki resigns with a shrug, shaking his head. You two sniffle in unison and you suppress the strange urge to pinch him. "'M not gonna try to get over you, though. Sorry, not sorry."
You roll your eyes at that but it's all good-natured, followed by a choke you struggle to hide as his arms coil around your waist, "Then I won't either."
A genuine grin spreads across his face, and it’s borderline giddy—and a stark contrast against the waterworks. "She finally fuckin' admits it."
"Figured it was about time," you give him a wobbly smile before your eyes flicker to his, red blurring from being so close. Selene looks upon both of you with a reminiscent sigh.
"I love you, Katsuki Bakugou."
Katsuki sniffs before he laughs; it's wet, and near bitter, and he pulls you so close your face nearly shoves into his chest. "Fuck. Fuck, you're an asshole, you know that?"
"This is when you say it back," you bargain, squishing his cheeks. Katsuki presses his forehead deeper into yours.
"I love you too, Asshole."
He speaks with a softness you've never heard and it's like a gunshot to the heart, and as his lips inch closer to yours as your hands slide to thumb at his ears. One last kiss wouldn't hurt, would it?
Until there's a whistle and the click of footsteps. You and Katsuki jump a mile apart.
"Oh, [Y/N]! You're still out here in the cold?" Your fiancé asks with a raised eyebrow, but it seems like that's only an afterthought as he turns to Katsuki to say, "Your wife’s found the alcohol."
"Great," the ash-blond groans, understanding the translation—your fiancé is piss drunk in the ballroom.
"I do recommend you take her home. She's making quite a mess of the eclairs. And her face."
Katsuki heads inside without giving you a second glance, and your fiancé gives him a solid pat on the way in before turning to you halfway through the doorway, "Are you coming inside, Darling?"
"In a moment," you say with a smile. Your hand never leaves the railing. "Just getting some fresh air."
"Alrighty, then. I'll be in the bedroom. Waiting~" he winks, and with that, he's spinning on his heel, and you're alone with the moon again.
You watch Katsuki guide his inebriated fiancé into the carriage lovingly, with a smile on his face that isn't quite the one he wears with you but close enough, whispering whatever pleases her at the time with a chaste kiss on the cheek. You feel comfort in knowing that he has someone to love and someone to be loved by. He doesn't look your way—not once.
It's not until they drive away that you realize you still have his suit jacket draped over your shoulders. You don't doubt he did that on purpose, either.
Asshole.
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neonlights92 · 3 years
Text
GRACE: Chapter I
Kim Namjoon lost himself when he lost his hand.  Things have not been the same for him since.  When Taehyung tells him it’s time for him to marry - he isn’t exactly thrilled at the prospect of someone else having a front row seat to his struggle with himself.
That’s where you come in.  You’re a nurse, as well as a member of Bangtan, and Taehyung is never more sure about a match than he is with you and Namjoon.  Feeling like you’ve been chosen to help Namjoon on his journey back to finding who he is, you feel completely out of depth.
It’s only when you start to see the man underneath that you start to fall in love with Kim Namjoon.  And maybe after all, you might be his saving grace.
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WARNINGS: Language, eventual sex and some violence
A/N:Namjoonie’s story! ENJOOOOY :D 
“Kim Taehyung wants to see you, Y/N.”
Your mother’s words dropped between the two of you, like lead.  Her eyes avoided your own - and you knew exactly what she actually meant.
Kim Taehyung has found you a husband.
Your chest tightened and you gripped the handle of your coffee mug for dear life.
Your eyes traveled over to your father, his face kind but stern.  This wasn’t up for debate.
“Okay.”  The word was quiet, “Do I - do you…” 
You took a deep breath and collected yourself.
“Who is he?”
The question hung in the air uncomfortably.
Your parents exchanged a look - the same look they’d exchanged your entire life when decisions were made for you and they were afraid you wouldn’t like it.
“I think we should let Taehyung tell you that.”  Your father’s voice was steady, “As Capo, it is his right.”
As capo.
You didn’t know Kim Taehyung very well at all.  Though the two of you were of a similar age - had grown up together in Bangtan - he had always been groomed for Capo.  You on the other hand, had been groomed like most other women in the mob: to believe that your most important duty in life was to carry on your family line.
You knew it was outdated.  And you hated it, though you’d never complain.
Life had taught you that complaints got you nowhere - and so you’d learnt to keep your head down and get on with it.
But that didn’t mean you’d never wanted more.  That you’d craved freedom and independence like no other.
And when your parents had allowed you to study nursing at university you really had thought maybe things were changing.  Until you’d realised that it had been a direct order from Taehyung’s father himself - the Capo at the time.
Bangtan needed their own nurse.  Someone who could take care of things quietly and efficiently.
Someone who could help those who were badly injured find some degree of normality.
And that’s what you did.
Still.  You loved your job - mob mandated or not.
“Okay.”  You whispered, feeling something like dread wash over you.
“His wife has invited you to dinner at theirs,” Your mother finally moved her gaze to connect with your own, “This evening.  Eight pm.”
You nodded, on autopilot.
This was what you’d done all your life, wasn’t it?
You listened to orders.  You never asked questions.  You never challenged Bangtan.
And if the Capo himself wanted to see you, then you knew it could only mean one thing.
He’d found you a husband.  And tonight, you would meet him too.
//
You stood outside Kim Taehyung’s mansion -- because that’s what it was, a mansion -- nervously fingering the hem of your blouse.
This was it.
You’d waited twenty-five years for this moment - the moment someone else decided who you would marry.
You’d always known it would be like this.  Your father was too powerful - he held too many cards too close to his chest - and Bangtan could never let someone like him choose his own daughter’s marriage.
He’d told you since you were a young girl to expect this.  An arranged betrothal.
And when you were little you thought it was sort of romantic.  Like some fairytale - a princess locked away in a tower and a knight who was destined to save her.
Except now you were older and it wasn’t all that romantic anymore.
It was stifling.
You knew your father had come to this agreement with Taehyung himself.  You hated that you lived in such a misogynistic world, but it was the way things had always been.
After a long moment and a deep, calming breath, you lifted your hand and knocked, once.
There was a beat and then the portal swung open.
And Kim Taehyung’s wife was smiling widely at you.  You forced your own lips up into a smile.
“Hi!  Y/N, was it?”
You curtsied a little feeling foolish straight after, “Yeah.  Hello Mrs Kim.”
“Ugh Mrs Kim is Taehyung’s mom,” She laughed, “You can call me ___.”
Her eyes were kind as she opened the door further and gestured you inside.
“Come in, please.  Dinner is almost ready and the boys are too.”
The boys.
Your heart skipped a beat.  For a moment you wondered if perhaps your father had somehow secured a marriage to the last available member of the Special Seven, Kim Namjoon.
But you shook your head.
Your father was important, of course… But surely not that important. 
Besides, from what you’d heard through the grapevine - since the accident that had caused Namjoon to lose most of his hand - he had pretty much become a hermit. The rumour mill was rife, of course, with people’s theories of what would become of Bangtan’s most eligible bachelor.
Could it be that Kim Taehyung wanted you to take up that mantle?
“I hope you like pasta,” ___ interrupted your thoughts and you looked up as stopped in front of a large dining room, “We hardly ever use this room anymore, but Taehyung thought it was appropriate for tonight.”
Your eyes widened at the opulence of the room you were stood in.  The chandelier that hung in the middle of the ceiling dripped with what you could only guess were the most expensive diamonds money could buy.  The long, mahogany table was ornate and rich - a dark colour that spoke of wealth and taste.
“It’s a little much,” ___ spoke up again and you turned to see her rolling her eyes, “But it was like this when we moved in.  Taehyung’s dad had a lot of money and apparently not a lot of subtlety.”
She laughed at the comment and you giggled too - relaxing a little as the tension eased from your shoulders slightly.  It seemed you’d found something of an ally in Taehyung’s wife and you were thankful for that, at least.
“I know we don’t really know each other,” She started carefully, a perfectly plucked brow pulling up slightly, “But I like to think of myself as a confidant of sorts… Especially when it comes to matters of the heart.”
You raised your own brow, “Matters of the heart?”
She bit her bottom lip and you noticed the pity in her eyes.
As she opened her mouth to answer you, somebody cleared their throat to your left and your head snapped round, finding yourself looking up into the formidable gaze of Kim Taehyung.
He was alone, you noticed immediately, and you tried to keep your expression neutral.
This was the game of Bangtan.  A game you’d grown up in.
A game you knew well.
“Taehyung,” You greeted, nodding gently, “Thank you for inviting me.  It is an honour.”
His handsome face was cold - barely responsive as he nodded back to you, “Y/N.  Welcome to our home.”
Our home.
The words warmed you.
It had been clear for a while now that Kim Taehyung’s only weakness was his wife.  He would burn the entire world down for her - and you’d been told of this time and time again.
They had started off as an arranged marriage - almost six years ago now - when Taehyung’s father and his wife’s father had worked so closely with one another they had promised their children’s hand in marriage in an act of loyalty.
But things had changed in the years since.
It was well established that Kim Taehyung loved only one thing more than he loved Bangtan - and that was his wife.
You tried to focus on that - on the fact that loveless marriages could turn into something else - as ___ nudged her husband playfully.
“Don’t be so formal,” She teased and you couldn’t believe you were witnessing this exchange, “Y/N is a friend.”
Taehyung actually rolled his eyes playfully and smiled down at his wife, “I’m still Capo, darling.”
She laughed as well and your chest tightened.  You wanted that.
The obvious love they had for one another - the way they seemed to be so comfortable with each other it was like they had found their home.
“Well dinner’s almost ready Taehyung so go and get cleaned up.” ____ said, slipping an arm through yours and leading you towards the ridiculous mahogany table, “Come sit over here, Y/N.”
You noticed for the first time that the table was set for four people.
Your heart pounded against your chest.
“Who is it?”
The question slipped out of you before you even had a chance to think it through.  ____ froze. She was slipping into the seat beside you when her eyes turned to your own.
“What?”
“The fourth person,” You whispered, darting your eyes behind you to make sure Taehyung wasn’t within earshot distance, “My future husband.  Who is it?”
____ looked genuinely distraught for a moment.
You clicked your tongue.
“I’m a member of the South Korea mafia, ____, I know how this shit works.”  You noticed your words were a little sharp and you tried to soften them with a weak smile, “Just tell me who it is.  Please.”
____ seemed torn.  Her eyes roved your face carefully and she sighed. 
“He’s a good guy.”  She told you carefully, “Really.   I’m not just saying that.”
Your heart dropped.  The look in her eyes - the trepidation….
“It’s Kim Namjoon, isn’t it?”
A throat cleared itself loudly from behind you.  You snapped your head to the side and watched as the man himself sauntered towards the two of you.
“You rang?”  The sarcasm dripped from his tone as he stuck out his prosthetic hand for you to shake.  You supposed he was expecting you to be disgusted - maybe to rebuke him - but you were made of stronger stuff than that.
You forced yourself to smile, “Hello Namjoon.  I’m Y/N.”
He narrowed his eyes as you shook his prosthetic.
“I know who you are,” He raised a dark brow, “The future Mrs Kim Namjoon.”
The words were like heavy bricks - weighing down on your shoulders.
You knew next to nothing about this man.  Despite what ____ had said about him being a good man all you saw was bitterness and anger in his eyes.
“You’re the nurse, aren’t you?” 
You nodded carefully and tried to calm your pulse. 
“Well now we know why Taehyung chose you for me.  The cripple.”
____ cleared her throat and stood up abruptly.  Her eyes were dark and angry and she shook her head at Namjoon.
“No.  You don’t get to do that to her.  Not when she had nothing to do with any of this.”  Her bottom lip trembled slightly, “Apologise.” Namjoon’s face was a perfect mask of nonchalance.  His eyes flicked between you and ____ and he shrugged.
“What for?”
____ squared her shoulders, “You know exactly what for, Kim Namjoon.”
“I think that’s enough now,” Taehyung entered the room sharply, standing between his wife and friend.  His gaze fell on you after a moment, “I see the two of you have met.”
You nodded wordlessly, wondering just what in the hell was going on.
Namjoon was seething apparently, as he sulked to the left of his friend, arms crossed and eyes dangerously black.   
“Was he not as welcoming as he’d promised he’d be?”
“This is ridiculous V, we both know that.  You’ve chosen her because she’s a nurse and because of this,” He stuck his fake hand in the air and you refused to look away.
Nobody else in the room reacted for a moment.
Taehyung took a deep, calming breath.
“That was part of it, yes.”  He said evenly, “Y/N is a trained nurse and therefore she can help you move forward with this.  But she’s also a good match.  Right age, right height… Her parents are wealthy and important like yours.  It is a good union.  I have told you this plenty of times Namjoon.”
“I will not marry her because of pity,” Namjoon spat the word out, “I’m not some fucking charity case-” 
“I don’t pity you.” The words flew out of you and when three sets of eyes turned to fall on you, you wondered if it was the right choice.  You chose to focus on Namjoon.
“What?”
“I don’t pity you,” You told him honestly, gesturing to his prosthetic, “What happened is awful, obviously.  And I may never know the full extent of it.  But I don’t pity you.  You are a man with an obstacle in life.  There are many men with obstacles in life.  That doesn’t make you worthy of  pity.”
Namjoon’s eyes searched your face for something - what you weren’t sure - and she sighed heavily.  He seemed so tired.  You noticed the bags under his eyes, the lines in his forehead.  He was young - just a little older than you - and yet it seemed he’d aged so much recently.
“So you want to marry me?  You want to marry a man who’s had to learn how to live - how to do normal every day things like eat with a knife and fork - all over again?”
You shrugged, “I want to do what’s best for Bangtan.  If Taehyung says that’s a marriage between the two of us, then so be it.”
A long moment passed between the two of you.
Namjoon seemed to be sizing you up, and you took the opportunity to do the same.
He wasn’t ugly.  Far from it.  Kim Namjoon was tall and handsome - and from what you’d  heard through the grapevine - he was also smart and kind.
People spoke about him of course - he was a member of the Special Seven - and what they said was normally very positive.
He wasn’t like other Bangtan men.
He was grounded.  He was softer.  A man who used brains instead of braun.
You had to admit, those traits were attractive to you.
Eventually, he spoke.
“Alright then.”  He nodded and gave you a strange look - somewhere between admiration and confusion, “I suppose that says it all.”
Namjoon turned to Taehyung and nodded.
“We’ll get married at the earliest convenience.” _____ gasped from behind you but you barely registered the sound.
It had all been well and good in theory… But now what?
Kim Namjoon stuck his hand out to yours - his real hand made of flesh and bones - and smiled sardonically.
“Welcome to the family, Mrs Kim Namjoon.” You smiled back.  Mrs Kim Namjoon.
You could do this.
//
Planning a wedding was easy when you weren’t trusted to do a single thing.
Kim Namjoon’s family had promised to take care of everything - and as a family higher up in the Bangtan hierarchy than your own - there had been no argument to be made.
This was the way things worked in your world, and you’d learned long ago just to accept it. 
You barely saw your husband in the ensuing months.  He dropped by once to meet your parents and officially ask for your hand in marriage, and once more since then to update you on the wedding arrangements.
But apart from that he was like a ghost - you even forgot sometimes that you were supposed to be marrying him. 
You rarely thought about the fact that by the end of this year you would be Mrs Kim Namjoon and despite the relatively long engagement - six months was a long time in the world of Bangtan - you were happy you had the time to get used to the idea of marriage.
It wasn’t until one evening when Kim Namjoon came calling for you that the reality of the situation truly sunk in.
You were leaving work - it had been a particularly difficult day so far, and absolutely nothing seemed to be going smoothly.  In fact everything today had felt like it was seconds away from falling apart and you felt like you too, were going to break down.
And as you made your way across the parking lot you found Kim Namjoon, leaning against your car.  How he knew which one was yours was beyond you - but you smiled at him questioningly when you were within earshot.
“Hi.” He smiled almost sheepishly, “Hi.”
“What are you doing here?”
He crossed his arms and squinted one eye shut as he stewed in your question for just a moment.  Then he sighed heavily.
“I’ve been an asshole.”
“Huh?” You raised a brow. 
Namjoon groaned and clicked his tongue, “Are you gonna make this difficult for me?”
“What? No!” You shook your head and shrugged, “I just don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“The night I agreed to marry you I was a jerk.  And we’ve barely seen each other twice since we got engaged two months ago.”  He ran a hand through his hair, “I promised myself I wouldn’t be like that.  So I’m sorry.”
You cocked your head to the side, shocked at the show of vulnerability.  Namjoon was a Bangtan man - he should be cold and unforgiving - he should push away intimacy and hate the thought of opening himself up to anyone.
And yet here he was, apologising to you for something you’d assumed was just the way things were done when a marriage was arranged.
“Okay.”  You nodded slowly, “I forgive you.”
He smiled softly and you found yourself thinking he really did look handsome like that.
“I’d like us to be friends at least,” He shrugged, “If nothing else.”
You smiled back, “Friends sounds good to me.”
“Good.  Great.  Thank you,” He gestured to your car, “So can you give me a ride home?” You gave him a questioning look, “How did you get here?”
“My driver dropped me off,” He lifted his prosthetic hand, “I can’t really drive anymore.” 
There was a moment of almost awkward silence, but you refused to let something Namjoon couldn’t control, ruin the atmosphere.  He’d apologised to you - he was making something of an effort - and you owed it to him to do your part.
“I can help you with that,” You told him, pointing at his hand, “Getting used to it.  How long have you had it on for?”
“Half a year,” He looked away from you, “It’s still so uncomfortable.”
You took another step towards him and his eyes connected with yours.  
“I don’t care.”  You told him firmly, “I don’t care about the prosthetic.  I swear.  And I’m sorry it’s uncomfortable.  I’m sorry it happened to you.  But I’ll help you.  I will.  I promise.”
Namjoon’s eyes softened at your words and you were taken back by the way he was suddenly looking at you.
God.  He really was so handsome.
“Okay.”  He whispered, eyes darting across your face, “Yeah.  Thank you.  That would mean a lot.” The moment was suspended for another moment more, and you wondered if you might do something crazy like try and kiss him - before Namjoon cleared his throat and the spell was broken.
Jesus.
What was going on with you?
Your pulse was racing as you fumbled around your handbag for your keys and you told yourself the nerves were only because of the day you’d had.  It had nothing to do with the handsome man standing in front of you.
“You’re going to have to give me directions to your house,” You told Namjoon as the car unlocked and you both climbed in, “I’ve never had the privilege of visiting.” He snorted a laugh, “It’s a two minute drive from Taehyung’s.  If you drive that way I can guide you.”
“Sounds good.”
You buckled yourself in and tried to ignore the way your cheeks were flushing at the idea of you and Namjoon being in such a small space together, focusing instead on the feel of the steering wheel under your fingers, and trying as much as you could not to stare at him through the reflection of the mirrors.
That would be weird.
Weirder than you were suddenly being.
“How was work?” He asked you once you pulled the car out onto the main road. 
You groaned, “Awful.  Today was a bad one.  We have them sometimes but it really lowers your self esteem.  Some of my patients seemed like they couldn’t stand my face.”
Namjoon whistled lowly. 
“I can imagine that wouldn’t be a very comforting atmosphere to be in.”
“No, not very,” You shrugged and shot him a look, “But that’s the nature of my job.  Nurses are treated worse than doctors even though sometimes it feels like we do triple the work.”
Namjoon chuckled and you raised a brow, “What?”
“It’s  just…” Out of the corner of your eye you saw him shake his head, “It’s like that with us sometimes.  In Bangtan I mean.  Taehyung is treated with so much respect and reverence - and he deserves it.  Of course he does.  But the rest of us… We work our asses off.  And we barely get any recognition for it.”  He pulled a face, “So I guess I’m trying to say I know how you’re feeling.  Kind of.”
You let this information settle with you.
It made sense of course.
Bangtan was the biggest food chain of them all.  The Capo demanded respect.
And in the little interaction you’d had with him, you saw how intimidating Kim Taehyung could be.  Still.  You imagined that had to be annoying.
“Doesn’t it piss you off?” He scoffed, “Of course it does.  But that’s just Bangtan.  That’s the job.  We don’t do it for recognition anyway.  We do it because we love Bangtan.”
You smiled at that.
It was exactly how you felt about your job.
“Yeah.  I understand what you mean.  As much as it sucks that I don’t always get the praise I feel I deserve… I don’t do it for that.  I do it to help people.”
There was a heavy moment between you both.  Namjoon seemed to be taking in what you’ve said and you found yourself thinking that if it’s this easy to talk to him you might catch yourself falling for your own husband.
“That’s a lovely way to put it,” You felt rather than saw his smile, “My house is just on this curb.”
You slowed the car down and turned to your fiance, surprised when you saw him already smiling at you.
“Thank you.  For this.”  His eyes were gentle and shimmering almost and you once again had to force yourself not to flush, “It’s been…. Nice.” You grinned back, “Alright.  Don’t be a stranger.”
He laughed at that and shook his head.
“I won’t.” He gave you a warm look, “Goodbye Y/N.  I’ll call you soon.”
You nodded, “Okay.  Bye Namjoon.”
He smiled at you once more before climbing out of the car and waving goodbye at you. 
And as you drove away all you could think of was this:
Kim Namjoon might very well be the best thing that could have ever happened to you.
//
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nationalharryleague · 3 years
Text
Diplomacy
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Pairing: Harry Styles x Reader
Genre: Enemies to Lovers Royal AU 
Word count: 12K (I may have gotten carried away) 
Warnings: Parental Death, an American writing about monarchies she doesn’t understand 
A/N: Hi everyone! I have been working on this one for a while and it’s by far the longest thing I’ve ever written and I am so proud of it (please be nice)!! I also made a Pinterest board with all the outfits from this if you want to check it out here!! SO SO SO much love to @meetmymouth​ @bfharry​ and @hardcandy-harry​ for helping me out when I needed it and being the most wonderful people in general :) As always, thank you so so much for reading!! More of my writing can be found in my masterlist and feedback/reblogs mean the world!!! 
****
Y/N knew from the day she could understand the concept of marriage that she would one day be married to the little prince with wild brown curls her mother always forced her to play with. She still vividly remembered the first time he told her that she was ugly and that he hated her. She was only five years old at the time.
Fortunately, she hated him just as much as he hated her. He was rude, somehow always sticky, and seemed to have no filter or manners, letting every nasty thing he could think of fall past his lips in daggers aimed at his future wife.
As they grew older, their animosity only grew, from petty to school yard quarrels to attacks on their personalities and who they were as people. Despite her pleas to her mother to be sent to a different boarding school than the one he was already attending, she was shipped off.
She studied judiciously, what was expected of every future queen, while she watched Harry meander through his schooling. He never seemed to listen in class, never studied, and seemed to only care about football and girls. She watched with jealousy and contempt as he flirted with every girl at their school, every girl except the one he knew he was to marry; while every boy in the school knew Y/N was off limits, direct orders from the crown.
It made her uncomfortable how much she disliked him. She was not a hateful person, having been trained well to treat everyone with dignity and respect, she was a princess after all. But something about Harry just got under her skin. She barely was able to control the instinctive eye roll whenever his name was mentioned and she often pretended to gag when discussing him with her friends, especially when one of them would inevitably call him ‘dreamy.’
The happiest day of her life was the day she watched him graduate, knowing she had been awarded years of peace without having to listen to his taunts or watch him flirt with everything that breathed. During those years, she flourished. She grew from a timid girl in line for power to a confident young woman preparing for the crown. She knew her country through and through, her constitution front to back, and had even begun studying Harry’s country as well. Whether she liked it or not, she knew she would have to pick up his slack in governing his kingdom eventually, she might as well be good at it.
Four more years of education at Cambridge, brought four more years of growth and being free from Harry, but the deal she had made with her mother was quickly coming to a close. As soon as she finished her education, their engagement would be made official and wedding planning would commence. While she was tempted to beg for some sort of delay or escape, she understood this was her duty. She owed this to her people, and soon to Harry’s as well; her mother was counting on her.
For the first time in too many years, she stood inside her former and future home. She remembered running through the halls of the massive palace under the ornate ceilings that now hung above her again; reality was sinking in. Through the massive wooden doors that sat in front of her, she knew her fate awaited; a fate named Harry. With a deep breath she steeled herself and smoothed the blush pink lace skirt of her dress, preparing to see the face that had haunted her for so long.
The first thing she noticed was the playful smirk that she associated so closely with his taunts from when they were children. It was the smirk that made her stomach drop; she could only imagine the nasty things that could come past those lips now. He had years to practice.
He stood confidently next to her mother, who had a bright and triumphant grin on her face. He was dressed in an impeccably tailored forest green suit, decorated with his coat of arms pin on the lapel. She wished for the vibrance of his green eyes to lessen but the tone of his suit only made them more intense than she had remembered.
“Harry,” she breathed, as diplomatically and with as much confidence as she could muster. “It’s good to see you,” she lied, reaching her hand out for him to kiss in the antiquated custom that always made her deeply uncomfortable. He delicately grasped her hand and slowly brought it to his blushed lips, the kiss lingering longer than what could have been considered friendly. His snake-like eyes locked with hers, still containing the mischievous glint she had nightmares about. She couldn’t help but notice the hysterically hopeful smile on her mother’s face as she watched them interact.
“It’s always a pleasure, your highness,” he hummed. He must have remembered how uncomfortable that title made her. She was honestly impressed at how he managed to lie and antagonize her in the first sentence he had said to her in over six years.
“Please call me Y/N,” she instructed as politely as possible.
“As you wish,” he said with a conniving smirk on his face. She had been with him no more than two minutes and she already wanted to run for her life. But this wasn’t about her, her country would need a leader soon, and unfortunately, that had to be her.
Her mother rushed over excitedly between the two, breaking the contemptuous silence that had built between them. “Oh children, it’s so nice to see you two back together again. I remember when you used to play when you were little. Always teasing, like you had the biggest crushes on each other.” ‘Teasing’ is a nice way to refer to torture, Y/N thought to herself, never daring to verbalize a thought like that.
“We did always have fun didn’t we, Y/N?” Harry asked her, a thin glaze of politeness coating his malice.
“Oh yes, we did. I still have a scar on my thigh from when you pushed me off the monkey bars.” Her tone was tight lipped and curt, her politeness beginning to give way to the verbal lashing she was dreaming of giving him.
“You’ll have to show me sometime.”
Y/N’s jaw nearly hit the ground. She knew he was a dirty good for nothing flirt, but in front of her mother? If her mother hadn't gently grasped both of their hands, she would have stomped out of the room. Her mother’s gentle touch brought her mind back to what this was all about once again.
“Harry is going to be staying with us from now on,” her mother interjected, clearly sensing the animosity between them. “Oh, and I nearly forgot! Harry, I believe you have something for Y/N, correct?”
“Of course.” He flashed his charming smiles at her poor mother, “How could I have forgotten about that?”
She watched him intently as he reached for the pocket inside his suit jacket, pulling out a small indigo colored velvet box. He opened the box with delicate hands to reveal one of the most gorgeous engagement rings Y/N had ever seen. A deep green emerald sat inside a ring of crystal clear diamond florets, all placed meticulously with care into a gold setting, the color of the velvet intensifying the emerald stone. “It was my grandmother’s,” he spoke softly, the first time she had ever heard him speak with any emotion or genuine feeling. “Before she died, she said she wanted you to have it. She was the mastermind of this arrangement afterall,” he said with a slight chuckle. “For formality’s sake,” he began with a sigh, “will you marry me?”
No, passed through Y/N’s head, but “Yes” fell from her lips. While her heart broke for herself and any chance she had of finding true love, the smile and happy tears in her mother’s eyes reminded her why she was doing all of this. She needs me to do this, Y/N thought to herself, my country is going to need a leader.
Their engagement was announced later that day by royal decree and their wedding was scheduled for the next month. There was no going back now.
The palace was in a flurry of planning and plotting for the big day. Y/N was rushed from meeting to meeting, instructed to make decisions about everything and anything she wanted for the wedding. She stared at floral arrangements until her eyes hurt and flipped through magazines looking at bridesmaid and flower girl dresses until her fingers felt like they were about to fall off. Unsurprisingly to Y/N, Harry was there for almost none of it. Although, she wasn’t exactly complaining about his absence.
He only surfaced when food or his suit was involved. In one vile incident, he arrived at the cake tasting with a wad of gum in his mouth, which was not only strictly prohibited for royals because it could be perceived as being too casual, but Y/N almost called off the entire wedding when she watched him stick chewed bubble gum to the bottom of a 200 year old handcrafted dining table.
“Were you raised by wolves?” she asked through gritted teeth while scolding him and desperately trying to remove the mess.
“Nannies, actually.” She knew by the smirk on his face that he wasn’t done with whatever antagonistic taunts that were planned to fall from his lips. “I’m pretty wild in the bedroom too, wifey.”
His crude comments were meant to hurt her and make her uncomfortable. He knew from their time in school together that she was constantly watched and kept far away from the gaze of any peaking boys, shining a spotlight on the massive double standard between the pair of future rulers. She wore a cloak of inexperience and innocence given to her against her will that embarrassed her to no end, and he knew that the easiest way to pinken her cheeks was to mention sex in any way. He aimed to fluster the poor girl and he got away with it anytime he flashed his dimples in a devilish smirk.
Y/N’s cheeks flushed red in embarrassment and furry before she got up from the table and stormed out of the room, muttering “pick whatever fucking cake you want,” before flying down the hallway to her bedroom and slamming the door behind her.
She felt frustrated tears pricking at her eyes as she slid down the back of the heavy wooden door to the floor below her. She let the fabric of her once perfectly steamed dress crumple beneath her and before she let the floodgates of tears open, she looked down at the dainty silver watch that sat on her wrist. You have five minutes until your appointment with the dressmaker, she thought to herself. Three minutes to cry, two minutes to change into a new dress and fix your makeup.
For three minutes, she let all her anger, frustration, and heartbreak fall out of her in loud sobs that anyone on the other side of the door was sure to hear. For three minutes, she let herself feel every angry emotion she had ever felt towards Harry. For three minutes, she didn’t care about her country or her mother needing this wedding. For three minutes, she didn’t care about anything other than her hurt. But only for three minutes.
Then she wiped the tears away, picked herself up off the floor, dressed herself in her favorite navy blue dress, fixed her mascara, and pressed a cool cloth on her cheeks to quell their angry heat. And then she went to see the dressmaker.
The only joy Y/N got out of this whole ordeal was getting to see her dressmaker, Agnes. Agnes was a kind and quiet old woman who was one of the most talented people she had ever met. The pair would sit together for hours discussing styles, the only time her schedule allowed her to relax, and the woman was in the middle of crafting the gown of  Y/N’s dreams. It was a lace long sleeved gown with a cathedral length train. The top portion of the lace was sheer, making a strapless neckline visible, before the delicately crafted lace moved crawled up Y/N’s neck into a high collar neckline. It was reserved, but elegant and unique; “just like you,” Agnes once said.
The first time Y/N was able to try the dress on was bittersweet. The dress was stunning and it made her feel like the princess she was, but she did shed a tear thinking about how this moment was tainted with Harry. She wouldn’t be wearing this dress while walking down the aisle to marry the love of her life, she was marrying someone she would consider an enemy.
She bowed down reverently when her mother placed a veil and tiara on her head. The tiara was encrusted with diamonds and speckled with emeralds that happened to match her engagement ring. The tiara was an heirloom and every woman in her family had worn it while getting married for the last two hundred years.
Her mother wept softly before her, a proud smile on her lips. “I’m so happy I get to see you in the wedding tiara before I go, sweetheart,” she said leaning in to press a gentle kiss to Y/N’s cheek. “I know you and Harry aren’t always a perfect pair and neither were your father and I, but we made you.” The queen’s eyes flashed over her face trying to take her in, “And you turned out to be my proudest achievement and the savior of a nation.”
“Thank you, Mama.” She hadn’t called her mother by that name since she was a young girl but it just felt right at that moment. She felt like a child, needing someone to take care of her while she waited for a country to fall on her shoulders.
“I will always guide you through whatever I can,” she said tenderly. “Even when I’m not here, I will always be with you.” Y/N watched as her mother’s eyes welled with more tears, excusing herself quickly before they grew more intense.
Not more than five minutes later, she heard the obnoxious whistling that she had begun to hear in her nightmares from down the hall. What she didn’t expect was for Harry to burst through the door, not only interrupting her fitting, but seeing the dress before the wedding day.
Like all members of traditional royal families, Y/N was extremely superstitious. Her heart immediately broke as she watched his eyes look her up and down, like there was a little piece of her that thought if they did everything right and didn’t break any traditional rules, maybe they would work out. What hurt her even more was that he didn’t even try to leave. He just sat down on a chair, smacking his gum, and stared at her like he was doing nothing wrong. Her eyes were still filled with tears from the emotional moment with her mother and they continued to flow, no longer out of love, but out of anger and frustration.
“Agnes,” Y/N finally spoke, voice cracking as she tried to hold back her tears, “will you excuse us for a moment?”
“Yes, your highness,” Agnes took delicate steps backwards like she was expecting a bomb to go off, before turning around and scurrying out of the room. Her instincts were correct, because at that moment, Y/N exploded.
“What did I ever do to you Harry?” she questioned angrily. “Why are you so determined to absolutely ruin my life? It’s bad enough that I am having an arranged marriage, not even one that I have the tiniest bit of say in.” She watched Harry’s eyes grow wide, like he had never expected her to stand up to him. “I have spent my entire life being watched and guarded, and avoided by every man I’ve ever gotten close to because I was already claimed by someone who wanted nothing to do with me.” She couldn’t remember the last time she had raised her voice like this at someone; she wasn’t sure if she ever had before. “You can’t even pretend that you like me or that we won't be miserable for our entire lives.”
“Y/N, I don’t want this either,” he spoke after a moment of silence, the quiet only broken by Y/N’s heaving breath. “Why can’t you just calm down?”
“Why can’t I calm down?” she repeated. “Maybe because my country is looking to me to become it’s queen. I can’t give myself to my people when I am worrying about you and your incompetence. You may not become king in your country for another 30 years; you have time to learn and grow into a ruler because you’re in my monarchy and you get to learn here first. You’re playing king with my people. Millions of people rely on us the second I am crowned and you act like your irresponsibility doesn’t have far reaching consequences.”
“I’ll be perfectly fine,” he spat back at her, rolling his eyes with his arms crossed in front of himself as he sat back in the chair. “I can’t believe I have to marry you and into this family.”
Y/N felt like she had been punched in the gut. She was stuck with this man for the rest of her life and here he was, disrespecting her, her people, and her family. “Get out,” she said under her breath. When he didn’t move from his seat, she began to yell once again, “Get out! I mean it!” She dropped her voice once again, and spoke more seriously than she ever had before. “I have never hated anymore more than I hate you, Harry. I am doing all of this because I love my country and my people, but I want you to know, I will never be happy because of you.”
For a moment, through her tears, it looked like he had been hurt because of her words, but he was gone from the room before she could confirm it.
She fell to her knees on the dress platform, surrounded by the piles of pure white fabric. She was a perfectly dressed ball of furry and sobs, angry at the world and her predicament. Leaning over and putting her head in her hands, she felt the tiara as it began to slip off her head, falling into her lap.
Y/N picked up the tiara, using gentle reverent hands, examining it closely. The tiara represented the monarchy and every female ruler in her family that had come before her. It shined and dazzled in the bright lights of the room, its crystal clear and emerald stones reflecting multi colored light onto the crisp white of the dress below her. “I’m doing this for you,” she whispered quietly to the tiara like it could answer, tears still silently rolling down her face.
***
They didn’t speak again for almost a week. They communicated solely through their royal secretaries, sending the poor men back and forth with angry messages, almost gossiping about what was happening with each member of the pair when they returned to the sender. Y/N hated Harry, Harry hated Y/N; the same sentiment sent back and forth over and over. The two were driving fast towards a brick wall, and the brick wall was their wedding.
When she woke up one morning about a week before their nuptials, there was a small envelope sitting on the ground like it had been slid underneath her bedroom door. We have to talk, was all it read. It was not lost on her that the stationary had a small olive branch illustrated onto the page.
Later that afternoon, they met in the garden. It felt like a neutral place to talk, the palace obviously being her territory. She had worn a casual flowing white dress, like she was raising a white flag; and she carefully walked with a mug of black coffee, a peace offering of sorts, careful not to get any of the dark liquid on the fabric of her dress.
She found him along a bed of purple Hyacinths, their sweet perfume enveloping them both, sitting on the soft ground dressed in the most casual clothes she had ever seen him in. He was wearing a simple lilac button up and a pair of jeans. He seemed more approachable this way, without the tailoring and the coat of arms that always sat on his lapel. The golden highlights in his curls came out in the sun and his tanned skin seemed to glow. He held a rose colored leather bound notebook in his hands.
“Hi,” she said softly, a sharp contrast to her screaming the last time they spoke. “I brought you a coffee. The nice ladies in the kitchen say you take it black.” The corners of his mouth turned up slightly and he gave her a friendly but unenthusiastic smile.
“Thank you,” he breathed, as she handed him the hot mug.
“Can I sit?”
“I’m not in charge of you,” he mumbled into the cup taking a sip. It wasn’t until she noticed how his eyebrow shot up and how his eyes had a playful gleam in them, that her offence washed away. “Of course, you can sit down.”
“What’s the book for?” she asked gently once she settled on the ground a safe distance away from him. She decided a few grass stains were worth being on speaking terms with the man she was supposed to marry.
“Um, it’s actually for you.” He reached over and placed the book in her hands. She ran her hands over her initials that had been embossed onto the leather cover. “I’ve been meaning to give it to you for a while,” he said quietly, “I remember you used to write a lot when we were in school together. I thought you would like it.” She felt a confusing mixture of thankfulness for the book, guilt for her outburst, and all the frustration that she still held towards him.
“Thank you, Harry. That was really thoughtful of you.”
A silence hung among them, neither of them sure of the next steps this conversation had to take.
“Can we talk?” Harry asked, finally breaking the tension between the pair.
“Yes, please,” she answered just as quickly as he had asked.
“I wanted to apologize for interrupting your fitting like that. I didn’t know all the traditions meant so much to you and I never meant to make you so upset.” She had never heard Harry apologize before, to anyone else, and definitely not to her.
Before that moment, she had always thought of him as an impenetrable force, wondering if there even was a soul or a conscience in his body. But here he was, vulnerability and all, offering an olive branch and an apology.
“Thank you,” she said cautiously, wading into the almost friendly waters she had never been in with him. “I’m sorry for screaming at you like that. I said some very hurtful things to you.”
“So have I.”
“I want you to know that I don’t hate you and I shouldn’t have said I did. But, I don’t necessarily like you either, Harry,” she said, deciding now was the time they needed to open the line of communication. One of them would eventually combust if they continued on with their hatred like this. “You have tortured me since we were little kids and it’s going to take me some time for me to get over that.” She watched as he nodded his head along with her words, seeming to listen intently.
“I feel like that is also something I should apologize for. No offence, but I didn’t want to get married to you either- still don’t, but I was much more of a dick about it then,” he let out a light laugh, flashing one of his famous dimples before releasing a sigh. “I took out not having control of my life out on you and I’m sorry.” She never thought she would receive validation for all the hurt he put her through for so long.
“Listen, we are getting married as part of a diplomatic partnership,” she began, “I feel like we should at least act diplomatic towards each other.”
“Does that mean that we have to be friends?”
“Definitely not. Just not enemies.”
“I think I can do that, wifey.”
***
The next week passed in a surprisingly civil blur for them both. Y/N was still in the throws of getting ready for a wedding and Harry was off doing whatever Harry usually did. She didn’t expect him to be doing much but she was just glad he was out of her hair. But when they did run into each other, usually at some sort of meeting surrounding the menu, they had a new found respect for the other.
The pair hadn’t been fighting which was nice for a change, even though it did raise some eyebrows in both of their staff. At her final dress fitting two days before the wedding Agnes had asked her if she was ready to be a married woman. “Absolutely not,” Y/N had laughed, “but it’s my responsibility to my people and my country. I have lived the most privileged life imaginable up until this point, it’s time for me to begin my duties.”
“You’re a good girl, your highness. You’re going to make a great queen when the time comes. Even with a husband you may have to wrangle sometimes.” She ended her compliments with a giggle as she zipped Y/N into the dress, and she felt her heart warm. Agnes placed the final touches of the veil and tiara on top of her head, giving her a nod of permission to finally look at herself in the mirror.
The dress fit her like a glove. The delicate lace ran the expanse of the dress, starting at the very back of her immensely long train and crawling its way all the way to Y/N’s throat, and the fitted top half gave way to a full ball gown skirt. Y/N’s eyes followed the intricate lace patterns down her arm, eyes eventually landing on her hand and the ring that sat upon it. For the first time since it had begun to sit on her ring finger, she didn’t want to throw it across the room in frustration. It really was gorgeous and the tiny inkling of respect she had for Harry now made it much less painful to look at.
Staring at the mirror, she noticed the blurring of her vision and the wetness on her cheeks.
“I really am getting married, aren’t I?” she asked with a disbelieving laugh.
“Yes you are, your highness.” Agnes looked up at her through her thick lensed glasses with a proud smile on her face. “Now, let’s get you out of this contraption so you can go rest up for the big day.” Anges’ skilled hands freed Y/N from the beautiful layers of fabric and tulle and sent her on her way back to her bedroom.
Y/N was finally almost asleep in the early hours of the morning when she heard a gentle and almost timid knock on her door. She could have ignored it, rolled back over and let her dreams take her, but for some reason it felt important for her to get out of  bed and answer the door. Her bare feet hit the cold wood floors and she tip-toed her way to the door.
When she grabbed the knob to open it, she heard a familiar voice say “don’t open the door! I don’t think I’m supposed to see you,” in a hurried and hushed tone.  
“Harry?”
“Yeah, it’s me.” His voice was gravelly with exhaustion and had an apprehensive, almost nervous quality she had never heard from him before.
“Why are you here?”
“I just wanted to talk to you.” He said it so softly she wouldn’t have been able to hear him if her ear wasn’t pressed up against the doorway. The sentiment brought a smile to her lips and she wasn’t completely sure why. She was quiet for a moment, deciding if she wanted to turn him away or not when she heard him sarcastically ask, “What? I’m not allowed to talk to my wife?”
“I’m not your wife yet,” she reminded him with a tired chuckle. “But we can talk,” she assured him. “I’m going to sit down, okay? My legs are tired from my heels all day.” She kneeled down and leaned herself up against the hard wooden door.
She had been in this same position only a few weeks before, angry at the world and wanting to kill the man on the other side of it; but here she was, speaking to him willingly, even joking with him. She listened close as his own body rested against the floor and leaned on the opposite side, mirroring her own position.
“Those heels really hurt, don’t they?” he asked, voice still hushed. If she wasn’t so tired, she might have even said she heard a smile in his voice.
“Yeah, they are like little death traps for your feet and legs.” He let out a small laugh on the other side and her lips pulled into a smile that she hadn’t given them permission for.
“How many pairs do you have? You always match your dress to your shoes so you must have a ton.”
She was gradually learning that he was much more observant than she had originally thought. He apparently wasn’t the dumb boy that she remembered from school anymore.
“Too many,” she said with a soft laugh and a shake of her head. “I’m wearing my favorites tomorrow.”
“And which ones are those?”
“They’re white, obviously; they have to match,” she smiled. “They have a green gem at the toes. They match the tiara I’ll be wearing.” She stopped for a moment before continuing on. “And your grandmother’s ring.” She played with the gold band that sat on her ring finger, still somehow dazzling in the very limited light of her dark room. “Thank you, by the way. It’s gorgeous.”
“You’re welcome. She wanted you to have it.”
“Did she really?”
“Oh, yeah,” he said confidently on the other side of the door. She imagined him nodding along with his words to emphasize his point, as he often did while speaking. “She kept tabs on you while we were growing up. She was always talking about how smart you seemed and that you would be a good queen one day. If I didn’t know better, I would say she liked you more than me growing up.” Y/N felt her cheeks heat up with the information. She was flattered by his grandmother’s opinion of her, but her heart also ached for Harry.
“I’m sure that's not true.”
“I think it was. I was always screwing up in one way or another; always creating messes that her and my parents had to clean up.” He paused for a moment and she heard him let out a long sigh. “Always running around with other girls and making the one I was supposed to marry feel like shit.”
She wished she could see his face. She wished that she could get a read on his emotions. But there was, literally and figuratively, a wall between them.
“Y/N,” she heard his voice squeak out through a voice crack, “I really am sorry for everything I’ve done to you.”
“I know. I forgive you, Harry.”
Saying those four words, lifted a weight she didn’t know she had been carrying off her shoulders. This moment felt like an absolution, a time to wipe their long and complicated slate clean. There was no better time for them to start anew than the night before they began the next chapter of their lives. But this chapter would be together, as a pair and a team.
“Thank you.”
“I’m sorry too, Harry. I know this all had to happen so fast so I could take the throne, but I know you thought you had more time. I thought I did too.”
“What do you mean? Why did it have to happen so fast?” he asked.
First, Y/N was confused. There was a very obvious answer. Then her heart began to break for him. He wasn’t ready at all for what was coming. No one must have told him.
“Harry,” she said softly, “Do you know about my mother?”
“What do you mean?” From the tone in his voice, she knew he genuinely didn’t know.
“My mom-” she began gently, swallowing the lump in her throat that always appeared when she began to talk about this, “My mom is dying, Harry.” She heard a soft gasp through the door before she went on. “She’s been sick for a while, but things are getting really bad. Her doctors think she only has a couple weeks left.”
She listened to his breathing stop, like his mouth was hung open searching for something to say. He was quiet for a few moments before he landed on what seemed like the only thing he had said over and over these last few weeks, “Y/N, I’m so sorry. I’m here for you if you need to talk about all of this.”
His offer was not lost on her. The idea of Harry being someone she could confide in was a new one, but one that she would consider.
“It’s okay.” She choked out, wiping a few stray tears that had found their way out, off her cheeks. “I have had enough time to come to terms with it. But in our archaic constitution,” she said with a biting distaste in her voice, “a woman cannot become the sovereign of the country if she isn't married. That’s why this all had to happen so fast.”
“I see.”
The pair were quiet, both curled up on opposite sides of the wall; simultaneously experiencing a unique type of loneliness that only the other could understand. In less than 12 hours, they would be married, linked by an oath that neither of them had signed up for, in circumstances with responsibilities that neither of them were ready to handle.
“Harry,” she peeped, breaking a silence that hung heavy over them both, “you should go to sleep. We have a big day tomorrow.”  
She listened through the door to the rustling of him getting up off the floor beside her. “You should get some sleep too.”
“I’ll try my best.”
“So will I. I’ll see you at the altar, wifey.”
She let out a strangled laugh at the nickname he had adopted for her, her throat still tight from crying. She listened to his foot falls until they disappeared down the hallway before she mustered the strength to drag herself back to bed. Her staff was on strict orders from the wedding planner to have her woken up at 8 to begin getting ready and she wanted to get some rest before the sun came up.
And like clockwork, her curtains were thrown wide open at 8 am, sunlight blinding her as she woke up. Her eyes took a moment to adjust to her rude awakening, but soon she could make out the bustling room around her. Hair stylists, makeup artists, bridesmaids, flower girls, her mother, and some lady with an ear piece and a clip board fluttered about her bedroom with an excited chatter. Taking in the chaotic scene, it really hit her. Holy shit, I’m getting married today, she thought.
Her stomach twisted and turned in knots as the gaggle of women fawned over her, instructing her to stay still and “stop shaking” as they applied layers of makeup and fussed with her hair. Her hair was pulled into a delicately crafted low bun and her eyes were painted with neutral tones and a little bit of shimmer. Diamond and emerald earrings were threaded through her ear lobes and her fingernails were inspected to see if they needed any touch ups. Her shaky body was zipped into her dress and her feet slipped into her heels while her cathedral length veil was pinned meticulously into her hair. She was only missing one last thing.
“Your tiara, your highness,” her mother joked through the happy and proud tears welling up in her eyes. The tiara was the one last thing she needed before she was sent on her way to the cathedral. She bent down slightly, her mother delicately crowing her; when she rose, she couldn't help but grab onto her mother and hold her tight. It was hard for her not to think about the next time she would be crowned, a time when her mother wouldn’t be there to offer the guidance or support Y/N needed.
“I love you, Mama,” was all she said. It was the only reason all of this was happening. She loved her mother too much to let her down.
“I love you more, my princess,” her mother said gently, before turning away and scurrying off to do something else. Y/N tried to ignore the wince on her face when she moved too fast and the slight wheeze she made when she was speaking.
Surveying the scene around her, Y/N felt like she was about to die. Her heart was pounding hard in her ears, her palms were slick with sweat, her breathing was labored, and her chest felt tight. She had never been so overwhelmed with anxiety before. She had known today was coming her entire life, but the fact that it really was here was too much for her brain to wrap itself around.
It was like she had blacked out from fear, an hour of her life completely unaccounted for. She didn’t remember the last minute checks and touches to her hair and makeup. She didn’t remember her mother delicately resting her veil over her face. She didn’t remember getting in the car bringing her to the cathedral. She didn’t remember someone shoving a bouquet of flowers in her hands. She didn’t remember the music starting up or walking down the aisle of the giant imposing and ornate cathedral.
She was only brought back to reality when she reached the imposing altar and Harry delicately took her hand into his. His green eyes were painted with concern when he saw the worried crease between her eyebrows and the way she was chewing on her bottom lip under her sheer veil, swiping his thumb up and down her skin in an attempt to soothe her. It was the first time he had ever touched her voluntarily; it was a gentle and tender touch, full of care.  She gripped back tight onto his hand, holding on for dear life as she thought over everything that was about to happen.
They were instructed to stand forward, watching the officiant as he droned on about love and duty to one’s country and spouse, but their hands stayed clasped tight onto each other, like they were being thrown into a stormy and unpredictable sea and the other’s hand was their only life line. And in a way, they were.
When they were told to turn towards each other to begin their vows, their eyes locked and she began to really look at him for the first time. She watched his plush lips closely as he recited the words fed to him from the officiant, although she didn’t hear a single word of them. Her eyes traced his strong cheekbones and landed on his adorable button nose before returning back to his eyes. She noticed the slight blue bags that sat under them, signaling he had just as much trouble sleeping as she did.
His eyes brought her a calm that she hadn’t felt in years, silently telling her that she wasn’t alone in all of this, his warm hands still holding on to hers punctuating that sentiment. There wasn’t anyone else in the massive cathedral but the pair of them anymore, just two scared kids trying to make it through the demands weighing on their shoulders together.
Shaky hands exchanged rings, her heart stopping for a moment when the ring caught and didn’t slide onto his finger gracefully. But her heart regained it’s rhythm when she heard a light chuckle coming from the man across from her, a gentle smile that was just big enough to flash a dimple at her, signaling that it would be okay.
She recited her vows without much thought, letting ‘I do,’ slip past her lips while still entranced by Harry’s intense yet comforting gaze. She watched his strong hands disconnect from hers as he lifted the lace trimming on the veil covering her face, dark lashes flickering down to her glossed lips. She let her eyes fall closed as he leaned in towards her and rested a hand on her cheek, prompted by the officiant and clapping coming from the pews, bracing herself for a feeling of disgust she hoped wouldn’t come.
He carefully connected their lips softly with a sweetness that felt gentle, tender, and caring. But there was more to the kiss than a softness, there was a respect there as well. His hand felt secure and protective on her cheek, and he pulled away with a smile after a short time, sure not to overwhelm her. The feeling of disgust in her belly that she was waiting for never came; if she didn’t know better she would say she felt an excited flutter.
They stood on the altar for a moment and just stared at each other, excited and relief filled smiles creeping into their lips, his dimples prominent. “Shall we, wifey?” Harry beamed with a sigh, extending a hand to lead her back down the aisle, now as a married woman.
“We shall, husband,” she giggled back, cheeks still a fiery red from their contact. Calling him her husband felt foreign, but not unwelcome.
Harry held her hand tight, keeping her in the moment by the warm contact. He held her hand down the aisle and all the way back to the palace, all throughout the signing of their marriage license, and all throughout the many, many photos taken of the two and their wedding party. She found comfort in his warm touch, continuing to ground her through the chaos that unfolded around them. Even when they had briefly disconnected from each other, he was always close by, only a call of his name away.
She was shocked by how careful he was around her giant dress, taking calculated steps to avoid dirtying the crisp white fabric. He was playing the role of a dutiful husband, and was seeming to enjoy it.
They spent the next hours just following orders from wedding planners, shuffled around from place to place, constantly surrounded by people. All she wanted was a moment to speak to him alone, but it seemed far out of reach.
That moment finally came in the middle of a dance floor, with hundreds of eyes staring at them as they danced. They swayed together slowly, a gentle rock to the delicate sound of strings. “Thank you for staying by me all day, Harry,” she said quietly, hoping that no one could hear them over the music.
“No need to thank me, wifey,” he said with a chuckle, his lips grazing against her ear as he spoke. She chuckled like always at the name and shook her head.
“I mean it. I don’t think I would have been able to get through all of this,” she said looking out at the crowd watching them and the giant ornately decorated ballroom they were in the center of, “if you hadn’t been by my side.”
“I quite like it, actually. I could get used to standing with you.” He said nonchalantly, like it was no big deal, while her heart just about stopped.
She wasn’t able to answer before the music slowed to a stop and they were pulled apart by their mothers and dragged off to speak to “very important” people. He seemed just as disappointed as she was when they were separated.
When they finally found each other again, Y/N had changed. She had abandoned her massive conservative skirt of tulle and lace for a creamy silk gown that she could actually move in. It was a simple a-line v-neck dress with cap sleeves, but the back held a deep V that ended at the small of her back coupled with a loosely tied bow.
The cool breeze on her back made her feel sexy. She knew she was pushing the boundaries on what was appropriate for a princess and she loved it.
“My darling, you look gorgeous,” he said, taking her hand and spinning her so he could fully take in the new dress, mindful of her tiara and trying his best not to knock it off. Her cheeks burned at his flattery, something he could surely feel when he pulled her close and pressed a delicate kiss on her cheek.
“You’re just saying that,” she said bashfully staring down at the floor, deflecting the compliment easily.
“Wifey,” he singsonged the teasing nickname that had evolved into a term of endearment. He lifted her chin to look up at him and he looked down at her with the most honest expression she had ever seen him wear. “You look beautiful. You have all day.”
“Thank you, Harry.” She spoke quietly, barely audible, unsure what to make of her husband’s compliments. He leaned in to her, layed a tender kiss on her forehead, and dragged her across the room to the dance floor.
They stayed on the dancefloor most of the night, almost always touching in some sort of way, while dancing and celebrating with their friends and family.
And Y/N was happy; a genuine type of happiness that she hadn’t felt in a very long time. Obviously, this wasn’t ideal. She was now married to a man she knew virtually nothing about, who had been a sworn enemy of hers only a few days ago, and had only begun enjoying his company last night. But happiness isn’t linear, she thought to herself.
Their night had passed in a joyous and opulent blur that went late into the night; full of food, dancing, and a swimming pool's worth of champagne.
Eventually both of them were led, by dutiful staff as they were both quite drunk and couldn’t exactly be trusted to make it on their own, to their new bedroom, or bedrooms depending on who you asked. They were led into the massive room consisting of two separate suites connected by a dressing room of sorts in a cloud of giggles, finding themselves in a fit of laughter after passing a portrait in the hall of some distant ancestor who had an amusing mustache.
“Thank you for leading us back,” she said, trying to gain a sober composure to the men who had flanked them on their way back, “you can go now.” The men shared a look between themselves that seemed to say ‘someone should be watching them,’ but followed the princess’ orders anyway.
“I just can’t understand how he got it to curl like that,” Harry cackled, beginning to wheeze from his hysterics and slightly stumbling as he was doubled over.
“Maybe it was natural like your curls,” she suggested, through her giggling hiccups that she let return when their staff left the room. “I quite like your curls, ya know? I like it when you let them grow a bit.”
They were still holding hands, despite being alone in their new found privacy, no longer needing the support from the other to shield them from the pressure of looking eyes.
“Then I’ll have to grow them out a bit,” he said, a smile still beaming at her with droopy drunk eyes. He tugged on her hand softly, bringing her body into his and setting his hand on the exposed skin of the small of her back. His hands were warm and soft and in the moment, she never wanted his hand to move from that spot again. “I can’t refuse the princess’ orders.” His voice had dropped low, not to a whisper but to a soft and lazy volume that made her feel safe.
Their faces were close and she could smell his strong vanilla and sandalwood cologne coming off him that she wanted to envelop herself in. He looked back down at her with a face that was loving, but she attributed it to the alcohol in his system. For a moment, she was overwhelmed with adoration for this man who she had spent so much of her life violently hating. Admiring and adoring him was much easier on her soul than harboring the hatred that had eaten at her for so long.
“I have another order,” she spoke quietly, letting the words tumble from her lips without her usually logical brain’s permission, “I want you to kiss me. For real this time.”
His lips were on hers as soon as the words left her own. It was sloppy and sweet, but with a passion behind it that Y/N felt in her bones. Their lips moved in a drunken rhythm, with Harry’s aimless wandering hands sliding up and down the silk of her dress before resting on her waist and pulling her impossibly closer to him. Her hands found and twirled the few of Harry’s curls that remained after they had cut his hair shorter than usual for the ceremony at the base of his neck and sunk her fingers into it, pulling him further into the kiss by his hair.
It was not long before their tongues found each other and the kiss deepened into a desperate dance of gasping for breath and soft moans into each other’s mouths. Harry’s mouth left hers and began to press sloppy open mouthed kisses down her neck while fiddling with the bow at the back of her gown that would release it from her frame.
Feeling him fuss with the bow made her pounding heart shift from one of excitement, to one of panic. This was too soon, she didn’t know him well enough. She didn’t know his favorite color or any of his hobbies. She didn’t know how he liked his tea, or if he drank it at all. She didn’t even know his middle name.
Her fuzzy mind couldn’t deny how much she didn’t know about him or the anxiety that made her want to pull away from the man and run.
“Harry,” she breathed, voicing the apprehension and anxiety that had begun to rise in her chest, “please stop.” She had squeaked out the words, a mix of embarrassment and panic taking over her slightly slurred words.
His hands froze, pulling himself back quickly from her, a mix of worry and guilt on his face. “Did I do something wrong? I just thought…” he let his words drop off, his own fuzzy mind not sure of what to say either.
“No, you didn’t do anything wrong. I’m sorry, I just can’t.” Her cheeks grew hot and her eyes became glassy.
She was embarrassed to admit it, but the kiss on the altar that morning was the first time she had ever had another pair of lips on her own. Her entire life she had been shielded from men with any interest in her, her affection already spoken for and claimed. No man had ever held her hand romantically, or danced with her, or kissed her with the passion Harry just had.
Harry had lived a life with freedom that she had never been granted. She remembered all the times she had watched him interact with various girlfriends at school, and remembered the shame she had felt when he had ended up on the cover of tabloids after he was photographed naked and kissing a  random woman on a yacht. Every article had ended with the same line that she still knew by heart. 
“The prince is arranged to marry Princess Y/N when she comes of age in an effort to unify their countries.” 
They had lived very different lives, with very different freedoms up until this point. It was sexist and archaic and unfair, but she couldn’t deny the impacts it had on her while she was around Harry. Even though she couldn’t deny that she was beginning to feel something real for him and she believed that he felt the same; she didn’t fully trust him like that yet. She couldn’t.
“I’ve never done any of this before, Harry. This morning was my first kiss.” Her cheeks burned in a mixture of embarrassment and shame as she spoke the words. “I like you a lot, but today has been nerve wracking and scary enough. I just can’t add another new thing into the mix, especially that. It’s just all too much. I’m sorry.”
Her sheltered and delicate heart couldn’t even bring herself to say the word ‘sex’.
As he listened to her explanation, his features softened. They were no longer fearful that he made a mistake or crossed a boundary, but they moved into a soft and caring smile.
“Y/N, my darling,” he began in a soft and sweet voice, “come here.” He beckoned her with open arms to rest up against his chest again. She had curled her arms in front of herself, holding them close to her body, as she walked into his arms and let herself be enveloped by them while resting her head on his chest. “You are my wife now, but I think we both understand that we are not exactly in this position by choice. I would never ask you to do something you are uncomfortable with and I am sorry that I crossed a boundary.”
“Thank you,” she peeped before he continued on.
“Also, I heard that part when you said you liked me a lot,” she could hear the smirk in his voice, making her cheeks inexplicably hotter. “And I like you a lot too.”
The pair stood in that hold long enough for them to lose track of time, just resting against each other in silence, listening to the other’s breathing. The silence that enveloped them was comforting, but Harry eventually spoke again, inexplicably soft and gentle in tone.
“Y/N, I really want to try to make us work.”
“So do I, Harry.”
The pair stood together in their stillness and peaceful quiet, until she let out a small yawn.
Harry released her from his grasp and began walking around the room, opening wardrobes and dressers searching for something. He breathed a small triumphant noise when he opened a drawer, spinning around with a light pink and baby blue nightgown in his hands.
“Do you need any help getting out of your dress? Would I be allowed to help?” His face was so thoughtful, carefully navigating the boundaries she had made him aware of but not set in stone yet.
She took the nightgown from his hands and slipped it over her head, the silk dress beneath it. “I just need help untying the bow.” Her voice was still low, a quiet and delicate murmur.
His hands carefully untied the bow, turning around for modesty’s sake, only turning back around when he heard the silk hit the floor.
She had begun carefully removing the bobby pins that still held her bun together, causing them both to giggle when her hair was finally released into a giant poof of curls and hair spray.
She looked so sweet to him. This was the first time he had seen her relaxed like this, no longer in a fancy dress, heels, and her hair and makeup done to perfection. She looked like a real person to him, not a princess who would soon become queen.
He moved gingerly towards the door of her room, but not before pressing one more soft kiss to her lips.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, wifey.”
“Can’t wait, my husband,” she called from under the covers, watching him close the door behind him.
***
The two were sitting on a hot beach, baking in the sun when the call came.
It was day four of their honeymoon and a week after their wedding, spending their time alone together on a small island in the sun neither of them could remember the name to. It was a paradise straight out of a movie, and she swore nothing could ruin it.
They spent their days learning each other well, often joking that they should make up trivia quizzes for each other to see who knew the other best. She had learned that Harry’s eyes lit up like a child when he saw any type of animal, especially the small lizards that would run across the deck hanging off the back of their small beach house. It was also a surprise when she found out he loved to cook, whipping up a meal that could rival some of the chefs at the palace for dinner one night.
But her favorite thing she had learned about him by far, was how he sang in the shower. He had a low and melodic voice that he didn’t know traveled into the house from the outdoor shower. She would sit by the window closest to him, often pretending to write in the pink notebook he had given her in the garden, close her eyes and appreciate the man’s voice. She swore if he wasn’t a prince, he would be a singer.
In the time since their nuptials, the pair had become lovers. Always attached at the hip and sneaking kisses; they were blissfully and unstoppably becoming increasingly obsessed with the other. The word ‘love’ often played at Y/N’s lips, seeming to always be only a drink away from letting it slip out towards him.
Every day, they would walk down a short path from their house to a pristine white sand beach, picnic basket in hand, and sit. Sometimes they would sit in silence, just staring at the clear blue ocean, and other times they would talk about everything and anything that came to mind, or they would read silently next to each other. But they were always holding onto each other; sometimes it was a hand placed gently on the other’s thigh, or fingers intertwined between them.
The shrill ring of Y/N’s phone broke their fantasy while sitting on the beach on the fourth afternoon. Her heart dropped as soon as she heard it, knowing that the palace had agreed not to bother them unless the worst case scenario was happening.
She closed her eyes and braced herself, tears already threatening to breach her eyes, as she answered the phone with shaky hands. “Hello?” she choked out.
“Your highness, you need to come home.” She immediately recognized the panicked voice of her mother’s secretary on the other end. “It’s happening.”
“Okay,” she said, trying to remain as composed as possible. “We’re leaving now.”
Harry’s face held a furrowed brow and concerned eyes as she spoke. He immediately began rubbing his thumb back and forth over the back of her palm like he had done on their wedding day, but today, it did nothing to soothe her pain and anxiety.
She hung up the phone before letting out a heart wrenching cry. “We have to go home,” she sobbed. “She is dying.”
The entire journey home was silent after Y/N had composed herself on the beach.
She sat emotionless, staring straight ahead, flinching away every time Harry moved to touch her. She spoke only when absolutely necessary, but her voice brought no tone with it. She had become a shell of herself, losing the warmth behind her eyes that had begun to appear after the wedding.
She felt empty, like she had lost the ability to think, while simultaneously feeling so overwhelmed, by thoughts of her future as queen and the loss of her mother. She had become blank, inside and outside, the happiness she had begun to build for herself with Harry, melting away and leaving the hollowness of grief and dread.
It took them about twelve hours to reach the palace from the time she hung up the phone, but it wasn’t fast enough. The second she stepped out of the car, she saw the guards outside the palace dressed in their black uniforms that were reserved only for the passing of the sovereign. She closed her eyes silently, as if when she opened them up again their uniforms would turn back to their usual blue and maroon; but they didn’t, their clothing still black as night.
Her heels clicked the pavement, maintaining her immaculate posture and steely blank expression as she entered the palace, the loving man she had been excited to have a life with trailing mournfully behind her. She watched as if she was out of her body when she passed people, all now dressed in black, in the hall. They all acted the same.
First, they would give her the saddest look, silently extending their sympathies to the daughter who just lost her mother, and then bowing their heads in respect to the now reigning queen.
“I need to see my mother,” was all she said, before being led into her bedroom.
She hadn’t remembered when her father had died, too young to understand. All she could wrap her head around was that her Daddy had an accident and wasn’t coming home. But she remembered her mother’s cries, loud and earth shattering sobs that traveled up and down the hallways of the palace for all to hear.
She looked like she was just sleeping; arms peacefully crossed over her chest and eyes shut gently. But she was cold when Y/N reached for her hand. She tenderly brought her mothers hand to her lips, and pressed a final kiss to her hand, before walking blankly out of the room.
Her mother was gone. And the country fell onto her shoulders.
She heard Harry saying something as he followed close behind her. While she heard him, she didn’t process a thing he said. She stalked towards their bedroom which was unfortunately on the other side of the palace, locked in her daze. He trailed close behind her the entire way, trying to say anything that could break through to her, and stood dutifully outside the door of her side of the bedroom for an unknown amount of time after she had shut it in his face.
***
She didn’t speak, or show emotion, or allow anyone at all to touch her for three days. Only nodding or shaking her head in response to the rapid firing of questions she was asked about planning her mother’s funeral.  Harry only saw glimpses of his wife, or the shell of Y/N that she had become, usually while she shut the door to her bedroom between them.
He left his door open all day everyday.
When he awoke the morning of the funeral and found her bedroom door open, his heart jumped. He slowly walked inside to find her in a room full of black dresses. Dresses had been laid carefully over every surface for her to choose from; the dress she would wear to her mother’s funeral and her first public appearance as queen.
“Good morning,” was all he said, quiet and careful.
The person that looked back at him was someone he didn’t recognize. The light was gone from her eyes, and she wasn’t the woman he was head over heels in love with anymore. She looked like her, but emanated sadness and anxiety like nothing he had ever seen before. Dark blue bags held under her eyes from not sleeping, her hair was tied behind her head in a messy unkempt ponytail, and she was dressed in a giant and ill fitting nightgown, shoulders bent down in a fashion that made her look small. The only feature of the put together, confident, and commanding woman he was married to that remained was the bright emerald ring that sat on her ring finger.
“I can’t decide what to wear,” she said without expression, but the tears started to fall down her face before she could finish the sentence. Harry moved quickly across the room to her when he saw her knees began to shake, catching her just in time as they gave out and she fell into his arms, settling them both onto the soft carpeted ground. That was when her heaving sobs began. It was a bone rattling cry that consumed her wholly and her exhausted and hurting brain could only put together two thoughts: she missed her mom, and she didn’t want to take on all this responsibility alone.
She sobbed into his shirt, holding onto the soft and worn fabric of his t-shirt for dear life, and he held her close to his body, slowly rubbing her back and letting all of the emotion fall out of her. She cried for a long time, giving herself a pounding headache, and when the tears finally began to slow she connected her tearful ones with Harry’s ever vibrant green eyes and mumbled, “I just thought I had more time with her. And I thought we had more time to just be us.”
“I know you did, darling.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead and reveled in being able to touch her again, as his heart broke a little every time she would pull away from his touch.
“I’m not ready, Harry. I can’t do this all alone. It’s too much.” She spoke softly, shaking her head from side to side, still choking back sobs as she tried to regain her composure.
“You’re not doing anything on your own. The second we were married, your problems and responsibilities became mine too,” he assured her. He moved to grab her left hand in his own and showed her the rings that sat on their hands. “Remember these?” he breathed with a light chuckle. “You’re stuck with me for life, whether you like it or not.”
He watched as she processed the realization that he was there to lighten the load. It was like a lightbulb had gone off for her, slowly nodding along with what he said. She let her eyes fall to the dresses that surrounded her, but he gently took her chin and directed her eyes back to his. “Y/N, we are a team. I am always here for you and I always will be.”
He took a deep long breath before continuing on, “I love you.”
She didn’t think when she pressed her lips to him, she just did, desperate to be close to him again. A coldness had swallowed her for days, and his words brought back the smallest feeling of warmth, a glimpse of hope she had been desperate to find.
She had known the passing of her mother was coming for years, her illness getting progressively worse over time. She had always believed it would bring more pressure, weighing down on her heavier than ever before. But looking at their rings and the man before her, she was hit by the fact that she never had to carry the weight of the country all by herself. She had Harry the whole time. He was her partner; in life and in power.
“I love you, too,” she said after breaking the kiss, salty from all her tears. She was quiet and her voice was still shaking and unsteady from her sobs, but he was there, holding her and keeping her safe.
He held her hand, slotting their fingers together as he picked them both up off the ground and helped her pick a dress. It was a black blazer dress that fell below her knees with three crystal buttons going down the left side. Harry carefully helped her into the dress, his warm and respectful hands sliding up her bare skin as he pulled it up over her shoulders. He then sat her on her bed, and began to carefully brush out her hair, doing his best to work through knots without hurting the girl who was already hurting enough. And he held one of her hands gently while she sat at her vanity and did her makeup with her free one. He refused to leave her side.
Harry stayed firmly planted by her side throughout the entire day, not daring to leave her while she needed him. He knew that photos of him holding her hand tight during the funeral would make the press, and the photos of him wiping away her tears as they left would make the front page, but he didn’t care. She might be the queen, but she was also his Y/N.
***
Their fingers were always locked together, Harry’s thumb passing back and forth over the back of her hand in the steady rhythm he always used when she was stressed. He was there whenever she needed him, gently taking hold, to remind her that he was there and they were a team.
He cradled her hand as she crushed his, gritting through the most excruciating pain she had ever experienced. It felt like her entire body was being ripped apart from the inside out, but Harry’s hand was the light at the end of the tunnel. She was screaming and crying in the small crowded room, feeling like a science experiment as all the doctors looked on at her pain.
But it all stopped when she heard the smallest little cry.
Then shouts of “It’s a girl!”
Exhausted and elated tears flowed freely from her eyes that were locked on the slimy little baby a nurse was burredly placing on her chest. She was so small, delicate and breakable, with strong lungs that screamed out to announce her entrance into the world. And when her eyes opened for the first time, they revealed the same bright sea glass green tone that matched her father, the green she had been falling in love with and swimming around in for years.
This baby was so much more than just a little girl, not only to them, but to their countries. She would forge a kingdom united in the future, a product of peace and partnership. She was a symbol of unity and a future of kindness between their countries. She was the future.
But for right now, the tiny baby was just theirs.
She felt him press a proud kiss to her head before she connected their lips together in a tear filled kiss before they both looked back to their new pride and joy who was still screaming for all the attention.
“She’s beautiful, darling,” he whispered quietly though tears next to her, hand still grasped tightly onto hers. “You did such a good job.”
“Literally couldn’t have done it without you,” she chuckled, still staring down, entranced by the little girl who looked like her daddy.
The pair stayed with their baby, quiet and just being, long after the doctors and nurses left the room. They learned she liked to scream and sleep, about as much as you could learn about someone only hours old. But she didn’t have a name. They had been debating for the last nine months over what the little princess would be called.
“I think she should be named after your mother,” Harry would say.
“But I think she should be named after your grandmother,” She would reply.
Their roundabout banter never left the pair, only changed; from malicious and teasing, to one of loving partnership.
“So neither?” he quipped with a small smirk while holding the little girl tight to his chest.
“I guess we have to compromise; diplomatically,” she said with a giggle, alluding to how they got to this position in the first place.
“I feel like a loving marriage and a new baby is pretty good for diplomatic relations.”
THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING! Please send feedback and reblog if you enjoyed it! 
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scxrlettwxtches · 4 years
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a throne of roses | hwang hyunjin
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genre: royal au, fluff/angst, fem!reader
warnings: blood, violence, a little suggestive (hehe)
word count: 16.7k+
description: when the king that conquered your country, hwang hyunjin, arranged a marriage for the two of you, not once did you expect to feel any emotion except hatred and bitterness to blossom between you. will you stand to hate your enemy until the end, or will you realize that the cold-hearted ruler is not as cruel as he seemed?
a/n: im back!! im so sorry to have been gone so long. i suffered a huge writer’s block, and even now, im really not sure how this fic holds up despite being my longest story by a lonnnngggg shot. i really hope people like it ahhhh >.< i will get back to my kiss prompts now that i got this monster fic out of the way! as always, i love all of you guys and my ask box/dms are always open if anyone wants to be friends!! <3
prologue.
The city was burning. 
Screams and sounds of roaring flame filled the air, the sky clouded from the smoke. You spurred your horse on at breakneck speed with the remnants of your battered army. A horrible deception, a betrayal of the worst kind, sent you to fight on the border while your enemy snuck in, attacking the capitol at its weakest moment.
You burst into the throne room just in time to see a figure standing above your mother and father. Their blood dripped down the marble staircases leading up to the throne, staining the pure white stone into a sickening red. 
“No!” You let out a guttural scream as you flung yourself at the man, your wicked blade aimed at his vulnerable throat, ready to kill. 
The man whirled to face you at the last second, raising his blade and intercepting your blow with a loud clang that echoed in the room, “Princess,” he smiled in greeting, holding you back as you continued to press your blade firmly against his. 
“Hwang Hyunjin, you bastard!” you snarled, twisting out of the sword lock and parrying with his blade skillfully. Staring at the eyes of the wretched king, the ruler that had drove your kingdom into war, your fury was increased tenfold. You wanted nothing more than to slit his throat and throw his dead body out into the streets for what he did to your beloved country. 
Hyunjin let out a noise you vaguely recognized as a laugh, “My apologies. I wasn’t expecting you to return so quickly, Your Highness,” he lashed out with a lethal strike, but you almost predicted it, blocking his attack with your blade. Still, Hyunjin didn’t seem the least bit fazed, and he continued to toy with you, enjoying a fight with someone so skilled, “The attack in the south mountain pass was supposed to delay you for more than two days.” 
Your blood boiled at his mockery, because no matter if you’d controlled the winds to bring you back to the capitol, Hyunjin would’ve still had the advantage with his much stronger army. 
“You know my father was considering your terms of surrender,” you spit out, ducking under his attack and striking at his open left side, but Hyunjin parried it, smirking as your anger grew.
“Well, he was taking a little too long, so I decided to speed up the process,” he replied, a wicked smile on his face as he finally caught an opening, and with a merciless slash of his sword, he nicked your right arm to the bone, cutting through the chainmail and drawing frightening amounts of blood. 
There was no time to wallow in the pain. You dropped your sword, catching it with your left hand and continuing your attack, but you were tiring quickly. Fighting your parents’ war had worn you down, and you didn’t have the strength you had when you first started fighting. 
Keeping a watchful eye, you felt a spark of hope as you caught an opening. You grabbed it without a second to waste, twisting your blade and aiming at his leg when you suddenly felt a blinding pain on your calf. You let out a cry, fallowing to your knees before the king who only smiled as his subordinates pinned you down, holding your arms back and pressing your face onto the marble floor. 
“Do you have any last words, Princess?” Hyunjin cooed as your hair was yanked back, forcing you to look at the cruel man.
“I hope you burn in hell,” you smiled, spitting at the ground before him. 
Hyunjin gripped your chin tightly, the smile on his face icy and controlled, “My, my, what a temper,” he chuckled before letting go of your face and backing away. The sun glinted through the windows, shining behind Hyunjin’s head like a halo. How ironic. The man was no angel, not at all. 
The last thing you could see was the king’s conceited smile before you felt blinding pain on the back of your head, knocking you out instantly. 
i. 
“Unlock the cell.”
Your head raised a fraction, your ears perking up at the mere sound of the familiar voice. After you were knocked out, you were dragged back to Hyunjin’s palace as a prisoner of war, chained in a dungeon cell with your hands hanging over your head, your armor having been stripped of you. 
As you kept your eyes trained to the floor, Hyunjin’s footsteps padded towards you, stopping right in front of your battered form. 
“Princess Y/N. The goddess of victory. A dazzling warrior on the battlefield, feared by her enemies and respected by her subordinates,” Hyunjin’s voice crooned with mock pity, “How does it feel to become the defeated princess, fallen from grace?”
You smirked, finally tilting your head up to glare at him with your cold eyes, “Better than being a coward that’s too scared to finish the job,” you snarled, and the restraints snapped tight as you pulled them with a violent tug. 
“You’re really pushing all the wrong buttons, Princess,” Hyunjin sighed, kicking some of the dirt and gravel that had collected in the dungeon away from his foot, “With all the trouble you gave my army, you deserve the most slow and painful death imaginable.”
“Oh? And what else does the infamously sadistic prince of the north have in store for me? I must say, I’ve been rather bored hanging here,” you sneered, making a deliberate show of licking your lips.
For the first time, Hyunjin looked visibly annoyed, his jaw clenching as he hissed almost to himself, “I should have just killed you.”
“Don’t worry, Your Highness. You still have a chance,” you said pleasantly, smiling at the king as if you weren’t chained up in his prison cell.
“Unfortunately, I need you alive.” 
You couldn’t help but scoff, “How terrible for you. How might I be of service, Your Majesty” Your voice was mocking, your lips curled in a sneer as Hyunjin studied your face. 
The king gave you a halfhearted glare, like he didn’t know whether to punish you for your loose mouth or just let it go because it wasn’t quite worth it. He gazed at you, skeptical intrigue clear in his eyes when he finally muttered, “Release the chains.”
You were not expecting such an order, and frankly, the guard was not expecting it either, “B-but, Your Majesty!”
“I’m not repeating myself a second time,” Hyunjin spoke simply, but his voice had an edge to it, as if daring the man to refuse his command. You could’ve sworn that the guard let out a squeak of fear as he nodded obediently, fumbling through his keys as he began to unlock the chains that cut into the soft skin of your wrist. 
When you finally felt the cuffs free your hands, you lost the only support holding you up, and your weakened legs buckled under the weight of your body. Before you could hit the floor hard, a firm body held you up, intercepting your fall and cushioning you with their chest as an arm wrapped around your waist.
“Oh dear,” Hyunjin sighed, easily picking up your weakened and frail body, carrying you in his arms as he walked out of the cell, “What am I going to do with you?”
“You know you could really just kill me,” you mumble in response as your head lolled against his chest, your hand absently bunching up his clothing to find a crevice to hold onto. 
“I know,” To your surprise, Hyunjin answered, and in your pain muddled state, he almost sounded gentle, “but I’d rather not do that if I can help it.”
Your tired, dazed eyes stared up at the king, only barely processing his words before sleep wrapped its comforting arms around you, lulling you with soothing words as your eyes finally fluttered closed and your head fell against Hyunjin’s chest.
“No one lays a finger on her. I don’t care if she’s an enemy commander, a foreign princess, or whatever other disgusting things you say,” Hyunjin spoke darkly after he’d tucked you in his bed, pulling the covers over your body. Letting go of his restraint for a moment, he allowed his expression to soften as he brushed a strand of your hair away from your face before his eyes turned ice cold once again. 
“Do you hear me? I see one more scratch on her body, and your heads will roll,” Hyunjin’s voice held the undertone of a growl as he stepped away from the bed, “Alert me when she wakes. Immediately.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
ii.
The first thing you noticed about your new surroundings was how soft the mattress was. Your finger twitched as your hand began to feel at the satin bedsheets. The pillow your head rested on felt as fluffy as a cloud, a luxury that you didn’t even have back at your own palace. This wasn’t the dungeon...no...this was--
Your eyes flew open as you sat up, your brain hard-wired for danger as you looked around the room. They were surprisingly lavish lodgings for a prisoner of war, if you could say so yourself. From the red satin curtains on the bed to the intricate designs of the ceilings and the walls, you would even venture and say that this room was fit for a king.
“So, the princess has awoken,” A voice pulled you out of your curious thoughts and immediately replaced them with thoughts of murder and annoyance as Hyunjin strolled into the room, dressed as immaculately as always.
“To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?” you replied, keeping your eyes trained on the blankets that covered you as you began to massage your legs through the covers. After a couple days of hanging in the dungeon, your legs had lost their strength and you were practically aching bring them back to their original state. 
Unbeknownst to you, Hyunjin smiled at your snide comments, rather enjoying the dry banter, “I didn’t know it would be a pleasure to see me.”
“It isn’t. I was just trying to be polite,” you said without missing a beat, maintaining a deadpan expression as you commented, “You’re quite generous to provide such a lavish guest room to a prisoner that threatens your control over your newly claimed country.”
“This isn’t a guest room,” Hyunjin corrected you as he pulled a chair closer to your side of the bed, sitting down even as you distinctively refused to look at him, “It’s my bedroom.”
Your apathetic expression faltered for a moment, a true sign of just how much the revelation had flustered you, “Your bedroom?” you repeated, a tang of disgust in your tone that couldn’t be missed even if one tried to avoid it.
“Yes, Your Highness, I’m afraid it is,” Hyunjin had wanted you to sleep in comfort. He hadn’t wanted to keep you in the dungeon for so long, but he had gotten distracted with business with another neighboring kingdom, and he didn’t trust his men enough to let them deal with you. After all, you’d put up a difficult fight keeping them out of your kingdom, and many soldiers were bitter with the long war that was raged. 
But all of that? He would never tell you. 
Sputtering at his nonchalant expression, you finally looked up at him, a scowl on your face, “Are you truly an idiot? The only people allowed to stay in the king’s chambers are the king and--” you suddenly froze, and Hyunjin could see you putting the pieces together in your head as your eyes narrowed at him, and he had to physically hold back his nervous gulp.
“What are you planning, Your Majesty?” your expression was darker than the shadows of the deepest caves, and your knuckles were white from how hard you were gripping the bedsheets.
“Since I’m sure you’ve figured most of it out already, I won’t beat around the bush,” Hyunjin spoke nonchalantly, glancing at your hands for a split second before turning his gaze to your face.
“I want you to be my Queen.”
The silence that screamed between the two of you was shrill and long until you broke it with a choked voice of disbelief, “That’s not funny, Your Majesty.”
“I assure you, I don’t like to joke around,” Hyunjin replied, “I want to wed you and unite our two kingdoms with marriage instead of blood.”
“Well, you should’ve offered that first, don’t you think?!” you snarled, shifting to lash out at the man when you winced, grabbing at your leg that throbbed from your sudden movements, “How dare you say that to me now, after you burned our cities to the ground? After you killed so many of my people?”
Hyunjin was silent for a moment, and if you didn’t know him any better, you might’ve thought he was genuinely contemplating on how to respond. Finally, he sighed, slumping forward in his seat as he reached down and began to gently massage your legs over the covers.
“H-hey--” The protests died in your mouth as the relaxing sensations drove your body to loosen up even as your brain screamed for you to do something. But what could you do? Especially when the gentle ministrations of his hands felt oh so soothing to your worn out muscles. 
“Princess, I truly do not want to force you into marriage,” your ears perked up at his curiously gentle tone. What was the man playing at? He sounded almost genuine as he appealed to you.
“Then, don’t,” you replied easily, merciless and without hesitation, “You have already taken over the capitol. I am sure the lords surrendered, they were always a spineless bunch,” you couldn’t hide the spite in your tone. The lack of support from the nobles of your kingdom was another reason you had suffered such a crushing defeat. 
Hyunjin let out a chuckle, and his hands squeezed a little softer and with more gentle strokes as if trying to relax you, “Yes, the nobles of your kingdom were quite quick to accept any of my conditions as long as I kept their estates intact,” you scoffed at his words before he continued, “but unfortunately for me, the rest of your people are not as cowardly.”
Your eyes narrowed, “What do you mean?”
“Many riots and small scale rebellions have erupted around the land and in the capitol as well,” Hyunjin admitted, keeping his eyes focused on the blankets around your legs, “We...aren’t familiar with how the country is run, and they are not pleased with the sudden existence of foreign military force.”
“Did you really think they would be overjoyed to see you?” You asked, deadpan.
The king ignored your sarcastic comments, “Small rebellions have begun to emerge, especially in the capitol and in some of the neighboring towns,” he continued, studying your face and gauging your reactions, “They won’t rest until they have their rightful ruler back. Our marriage could solve that and calm the unrest.”
“Marriage can’t be the only option,” you protested, desperate to get out of this, “I can renounce my claim to the throne, and then you’d be the only ruler. You won’t have any need to marry me at all.”
“That can’t happen!” Hyunjin snapped, trying to hide the sudden burst of nervousness that fluttered in his heart, “Your people would never accept that you of all people would renounce your claim. They would just assume I forced you into it.”
“Oh, like the marriage isn’t forced either?” you retorted coldly, crossing your arms. 
Hyunjin’s hands on your legs slowed to a stop, “Princess,” his voice was soft, “My men have not begun to enforce the brunt of the law on those riots, but they are growing anxious. The people who are sick of fighting are being targeted by those who call them traitors. Your people are killing each other--”
“And who’s fault is it?” you bared your teeth in a snarl, and if you had a weapon at that moment, you would’ve plunged it into Hyunjin’s shoulder in a fit of rage, “Who’s fault is it?”
The king’s expression grew a little darker, and his hands fell to his sides as he sensed your anger, “I understand your anger, your hatred. If the spots were switched, I would not be listening to a word you say either. But,” his eyes bore into yours, and in them, you found nothing but honest sincerity as he spoke, “you and I both know that I was not the one who started this war.”
You froze, your jaw going slack as Hyunjin’s words seeped into the depths of your heart. He was right; his kingdom did not start the war, yours did. Your parents, becoming greedy for the jewels that Hyunjin’s mountainous kingdom produced, had continued to aggravate and stir up tensions in the border until your army finally threw the first punch. 
In the end, it was you who reaped what you sow, and you supposed that this was heaven’s way of getting back at you for your foolishness.
“I have conditions.”
Hyunjin perked up immediately at your words and he nodded, “Let’s hear them,” he said, his expression with its normal mask of impassiveness, but you were beginning to see through it, finding the genuine eagerness that he hid from the world. 
“My people will not be treated like second class citizens,” you said, your voice hard. This was something you would never budge on, “They deserve the same rights and the same freedoms as your people.”
“Of course, you have my word,” Hyunjin nodded firmly, “Your people will be treated the same as mine.”
You couldn’t help the flash of approval that shone in your eyes before you cleared your throat, “I will also want to have a say in the new policy reforms you’ll instill on my kingdom.”
Hyunjin was quiet for a moment, but he didn’t seem surprised by your request in the slightest, “That is a given. After all, I don’t want a queen that doesn’t question my orders,” he chuckled as he studied your face, “Although, I am curious. I already gave you my word that I will treat your people well, why do you want to be involved with the policy making?”
“Because you are a conqueror, not a king,” you replied firmly, not ounce of doubt in your words, “at least to my people. You do not understand their temperament and their customs, just as I do not understand yours. If they sense that your new laws do not actively seek out what’s best for them, they will not follow them, marriage or not.”
For a moment, you feared that you had spoken too much, spoken out of turn for a mere prisoner of war, but Hyunjin gave a noise of understanding after considering your words, “I understand. You may be present for every council meeting.”
That surprised you, and you raised a suspicious eyebrow at the king. You had expected him to accept your advice, but you didn’t expect him to give you the permission to give your advice freely in front of his commanders. You didn’t know much about Hyunjin’s laws, but you studied your kingdom’s neighbors enough to know that this was quite unorthodox.
“What?” Hyunjin chuckled as he noticed your suspicious gaze, “You asked for it.”
“I just wasn’t sure your commanders would be very excited to see a woman tell them what to do,” you retorted dryly.
Hyunjin shrugged, looking not the least bit bothered, “If they aren’t, then they lose their post, that’s all,” before you could really acknowledge just how nonchalant he was about giving you power over his council, he looked at you expectantly, “Anything else?”
After pondering for a moment, your fingers fiddling with the sheets absently, you finally decided on the last condition.
“I will be your one and only.”
Hyunjin’s brow furrowed, and at first, you took it to mean discontent with your demand, but it was merely confusion, “What do you mean?”
Your cheeks grew a little hot as you were forced to elaborate on your rather embarrassing request, “You will not take another wife after you are done exploiting me to transition my kingdom into yours,” you spoke simply, not bothering to mince your words any further, “I won’t be arrogant enough to think that I can prevent you from finding a mistress--”
“I don’t want--” The king suddenly interrupted you, and his choked tone of voice was rather unexpected. Hyunjin looked at you as if he had something urgent to tell you, something that was close to bursting out of his mouth if he didn’t decide to say it himself. Yet, when he finally managed to speak, you knew it wasn’t the words he’d originally wanted to say.
“I don’t want a mistress. I have no intention of seeing anyone else romantically after you,” Hyunjin said firmly, his intense brown eyes staring deep into yours to convey his sincerity, “This condition, I can promise you easily.”
You nodded mutely, not wanting to admit how him treating your marriage with steadfast devotion made you feel. It was just purely for political purposes, after all.
“If you agree to uphold those three conditions,” you looked to Hyunjin as you spoke softly, your next words sealing your fate, “then I agree to your proposal.”
For the first time since you’ve met him, Hyunjin let a flash of excitement pass across his face for a moment, “You’ll marry me?” he asked, and if you blinked, you’d missed the eagerness in his tone, “I want you to say it, Princess.”
“Why? Is my word not enough for you, Your Majesty?” Your lips quirked up in a dry smile.
“Are you really so cold as to deny me this one request?” As you gazed at the young king, you noticed the guarded look in his expression, as if he was bracing for you to snap, to lash out at him coldly.
You refused to let it get to you, but you were grateful that he was so receptive to your demands. As a princess of a once flourishing kingdom, you were no stranger to kings, princes, lords, and anyone else of that sort. None of them would ever dream of giving you the courtesy that the man was giving you at the moment. Perhaps you could return the favor at least a little.
“I want to marry you, Hyunjin.”
Hyunjin’s genuinely stunned expression stayed in your brain as you went to sleep that night, comfortably swathed in the king’s lavish silk and satin sheets. 
iii.
“Not that I’m not excited to return, but why exactly are we going back to my kingdom for the wedding?” You asked curiously as you rode your horse through the mountainous roads necessary to cross into your side of the border, “Isn’t it dangerous to send a captured princess back to her own territory?”
“Ah, but you see,” Hyunjin smiled, the sunlight hitting his face in a way that made him look almost ethereal, “you’re not a captured princess. You’re my fiancé, and it’s a long standing tradition to marry at the bride’s hometown, is it not?”
You rolled your eyes discreetly at his shameless words, giving your horse a light bump of your leg to spur it ahead of Hyunjin’s. Damn northerners and their thick blood, you cursed as you shivered again, still not accustomed to the icy temperatures of the mountains even during the spring. 
“Here,” A sudden weight on your shoulders pulled you out of your thoughts, one that was warm and soft. Feeling it with your hands and tilting your head to glance at it, your eyes widened.
“Hyunjin, you absolute idiot, this--”
“Is a royal cape? Yes, I know,” Hyunjin answered nonchalantly, his horse galloping leisurely beside yours.
You sputtered incomprehensibly until you finally managed to put words together, “Only the king can wear this!”
Hyunjin tilted his head towards you inquisitively, “And?”
“It’s basically law!” You exclaimed, wondering if the king truly had some issues like the rumors had stated during your time in the war. Shaking your head, your hand grabbed the edge of the cape, ready to rip it off you when Hyunjin’s hand lashed out, grabbing your hand and stopping your motions.
“Don’t,” his voice was stern as he looked into your eyes, and you felt your blood boil at the light show of concern in his expression, “You’re cold, right? It’ll keep you warm.”
“Did you not hear a word I said?” You scoffed, trying to pull yourself away from Hyunjin, but the road was only so wide, and there wasn’t much room for you to maneuver, “It’s a royal cape. Only the king is allowed to wear it.”
Hyunjin blinked, “Well, I’m the king, so my word is law,” he answered, looking not the least bit bothered, “and I’d rather keep my fiancé healthy than abide by some stuffy tradition.”
You were so flustered by his blunt words that you stopped fighting against his grip. The moment he felt the resistance flow out of your body, Hyunjin flashed you a charming smile before spurring his horse to take a pace just a little faster than yours.
Oh, so that was how he wanted to play. Scowling, you gently kicked the side of your horse, causing them to gallop past Hyunjin as your lips quirked into a pleased smile. 
“You know, if you go any faster, you’ll lose our entourage,” Hyunjin mused as he easily urged his horse forward, matching your pace and riding side my side with you, the procession of knights, maids and servants following behind. 
Glancing back, you noticed that they were a slight distance away and with a huff of air, you tugged at the reigns, slowing your horse to appease him, “Now, is that really such a bad thing?” you asked, blinking innocently. 
Hyunjin gave you a wry smile, one that had grown warmer through the week you’d stayed at his palace. It was a rather strange predicament you had found yourself falling into. Realizing that there was no way for you to avoid the marriage, you had decided to do the only other thing possible to prevent it.
That was to be totally obnoxious to the point where the king would have no choice but to turn his nose up in scorn and leave you to be.
Except, it didn’t quite work that way, and on the contrary, Hyunjin seemed to enjoy bantering with you. In fact, you had a sneaking suspicion that he was trying to pull it out of you, to push your buttons as much as you push his.
It wasn’t what you had hoped for, but it wasn’t there worst possible scenario.
“Hello? Y/N!” Hyunjin reached over, poking your cheek and pulling out a surprised squeak from you.
“What?” you snapped, blushing that you were caught so blatantly with your guard down.
The king gave you a strange glance, also noticing that you were unusually inattentive. His eyes studied your face with something akin to concern in his expression before he dropped the subject, “We’re here, the border.”
You looked around, immediately feeling the wave of nostalgia hit you in full force as you stood at the top of the mountain, gazing at the large expanse of your kingdom, or rather, what was once your kingdom. The lush green fields, the massive trees that looked like specs from where you were, and in the far distance, the capitol city. Your old home.
Suddenly, you felt a gentle nudge on your arm as Hyunjin looked at you, “Let’s scout ahead of the entourage.”
Despite your moment of weakness, you couldn’t help but smirk, sweetness dripping from your words, “Don’t you have scouts in your entourage, Your Majesty?”
“Very funny. You know what I mean,” Hyunjin rolled his eyes, but his expression curled into a sly smile as if daring, goading you towards something, “Don’t you want to race and see who’s really the better rider?”
A predatory smile appeared on your lips, your natural response due to how utterly competitive you were, “Are you sure you want your whole court to witness your loss?”
“Oh, please. You might never want to go out and ride with me again after you experience your crushing defeat.” 
The grin you were showing was wicked, not so different from smile that would flit across your face during the heat of a battle, “Don’t run away crying when you lose.”
“I would never run away from you, Princess.”
You only gave him a saccharine smile in return, and without another word, you flicked your wrist, sending your horse forward with a burst of speed. There was no need to look back; Hyunjin was hot on your heels.
The two of you descended down the mountainous path, going faster than normal but staying mindful of the potential dangers. Once you made it to the flat plains, your smile widened and the two of your tore down the road. 
For the first time since you’d lost your kingdom, you felt truly free, your long hair and the silk of your dress billowing behind you, the wind blowing in your face as you tore past the plains and into the woods. In a moment of consciousness, you could hear Hyunjin’s laugh from behind you, but you could hardly bring yourself to care. Let him chase you. It only made things more exciting.
You finally pulled your horse to a full stop as you reached the edge of the hill. Breathing heavily, you gazed as the winding road that sloped down, lower and lower until it reached the capitol city. You were home. You stared at the falling sun, the quaint little houses below, and you could almost smell the fresh bread at the corner bakery you frequented back when you were young. sneaking out of the palace because you hated the posh, white bread they served.
Hyunjin pulled his horse to wait beside yours, catching the peaceful smile on your face. There was something alluring about you when you fought against him, but seeing what you looked like when you tasted true happiness, it made his heart soften just a little.
“It’s beautiful,” he commented, slowing his horse down beside yours.
“You should see it during the lantern festivals,” you smiled, looking down at the immense city from a distance, “The city lights up at night, and no one sleeps that entire week.”
“Maybe we should come back to experience it one day,” Hyunjin suggested, his voice casual, but his eyes shrouded with slight uncertainty, knowing that he was probing into untapped territory.
To his surprise, the relaxed smile on your face remained, “That’s not a bad idea,” you mused. Rolling your shoulders, you let out a sigh, looking out at the city below.
Then, reality hit you like a club to the gut as your eyes caught sight of the flag that waved at the front of the castle. Distant, barely discernible, but you knew at a glance. It was not your kingdom’s flag, and it was the cruelest reminder of the reason you were allowed to come home in the first place.
The king followed your line of sight, curious as to what caused such a sudden change in mood. When his eyes fell to the flag looming over the city, it clicked, “Y/N,” he started, swallowing as he considered his words carefully, “I have to establish rule at least for a little--”
“Don’t patronize me,” Your voice was colder than ice, and Hyunjin cursed at ill fate of your relationship. Always half a step forward, then three steps back, “I’m no stranger to conquering cities. Let’s get to the palace before dark,” you flicked the reigns, prepping your horse to begin moving.
“Wait--” Hyunjin’s hand reached over to grab your wrist before he was even fully conscious of his own actions. Surprised, your head whipped around to look at his face before looking down at where his large hand completely wrapped around your thin wrist.
“We have quite some time before the sky begins to darken at all,” Hyunjin reasoned with you calmly, and his thumb brushed against the soft skin of your arm in an instinctive attempt to appease your obvious anger, “And the rest of the court has not yet caught up to us.”
“Do you want us to lay down a cloth on the grass and chat over some afternoon tea?” You scoffed, trying to pull your hand away, but his grip tightened, squeezing his hand around your wrist as if he thought you would disappear right in front of him if he wasn’t touching you.
Hyunjin sighed, “I only want you to let me explain myself.”
If your anger had not boiled over before, it certainly did now. You rounded your horse to face him, your eyes burning with controlled fury, “Explain yourself? What exactly do you need to explain? Your kingdom conquered mine, lay siege to the capitol, burned down the cities in your path, and now you’re taking me as your trophy wife--”
“You’re not a trophy wife, Y/N,” Hyunjin finally interrupted you, his voice firm and steadfast. He looked you straight in the eye, his gaze never faltering as he spoke his mind, “I did not ask you to be my wife just to mutely sit by my side. I want your counsel, your advice, your opinion. You will be my Queen in both name and power.”
Taken aback by his words, your anger faltered and turned only into confusion, “Then,” you spoke, so flustered that you didn’t even notice Hyunjin’s hand had trailed down to hold your hand in his, “what was the point in conquering my country so completely, if you were planning to give me power in the first place?”
Hyunjin smiled, one that didn’t quite reach his eyes. You noticed that he smiled like that often; never quite looking fake but never truly happy either, “Your parents.”
Immediately, you stiffened, and just from your reaction, Hyunjin knew his explanation was partially complete, “I needed to remove them from the picture completely, and to do that, I needed a total victory.”
An uncomfortable feeling twisted in your gut. It was your mother and father that he was talking about! You should’ve been furious, spatting at the ground he walked on for his words to both of them, but in the end, you could only protest weakly, “Still, there was no need to--”
“You know they fed off the poor, right?” Hyunjin asked, his voice turning cold, “You know they corrupted the distribution of wealth and crops to fund their own gambling addiction, right?”
Your heart turned to ice as you stared at Hyunjin in absolute horror, “H-how did you--”
“Do you think your kingdom’s secrets stay inside the kingdom forever?” he asked, raising an eyebrow at your naivety, “Envoys talk, rumors spread. The king and queen of your kingdom were not fit to carry the weight of their people on their shoulders.”
Finally having enough of this pain, this scabs of your heart that Hyunjin was cruelly picking at, you snapped, turning your face away, “Then why marry me at all?! If you scorn at my parents’ corruption, why choose me? Is this just a twisted way of shoving their crimes into my face?”
“Because you’re not like them,” Hyunjin answered simply.
A bitter chuckle slipped past your lips, “You sound foolishly certain about that, Your Majesty.”
“I am,” The king did not mince his words. Why should he, when he knew it was true beyond a shadow of a doubt?
“I know you are nothing like them. You were their bandage, desperately trying to make up for their actions,” Hyunjin continued, “You compensated for their depletion of the bank with your own funds, you fed the poor from food storages hidden from the eyes of your parents.”
Unbeknownst to you, his eyes softened and he let warmth into his voice, “You fought me because of a war they started, and they intended you to be the only one who would pay the price for it.”
Your eyes felt uncomfortable tight as if you were about to cry, and under no circumstance were you going to let that happen in front of Hyunjin, “Why tell me all this now?” you asked, your voice uncharacteristically resigned as you kept your eyes trained at the distant palace, “You think I’m not fully aware of their cruelty? You think I haven’t spent my entire life trying to make up for my parents’ actions?” 
Hyunjin didn’t speak for a moment, taking in the weight of your words, “If I may ask,” he started softly, “if you knew about it, why didn’t you overthrow them? You certainly had the resources and the support of your people.”
The question brought a dry smile to your face as you turned to look at Hyunjin, “You’re right,” you answered wryly, “why didn’t I? It would’ve been the most logical course of action, don’t you think?” Hyunjin had no answer, because he knew your question was merely a rhetorical one, and he wasn’t about to fall into another one of your honeytraps and let you dodge the question that has plagued his mind since he first crossed blades with you.
“There isn’t anything complicated to it, really,” you glanced at Hyunjin with a sort of resigned annoyance, “I just couldn’t bring it in me to betray my family.”
“Did they ever even give you anything?” Hyunjin asked incredulously, “Did they ever show you affection at all?”
The almost spiteful questions made you laugh bitterly, “No, not at all,” Turning to Hyunjin, you gave a smile that didn’t reach your eyes, “Foolish me, right?”
Hyunjin stared at you, the sly comeback on the tip of his tongue disappearing as soon as it appeared. Despite your cold expression, your eyes told the truth, and he could see that your heart pained at the notion of having covered for your parents since you were old enough to read, only for them to throw you to the wolves, betraying you for money.
 “It isn’t foolish to love your parents,” Hyunjin answered softly, causing your eyes to widen in surprise, “It might be just an innate instinct to, even if they mistreat us.”
You let out a disbelieving chuckle, “Maybe you’re right.”
“You don’t have to feel guilt about what happened to them, you know,” Hyunjin turned to face the horizon where the sun was setting behind the palace.
“I don’t.”
“Don’t lie, it’s written all over your face,” Hyunjin said, glancing at you from the corner of his eye, “It’s killing you inside that you didn’t save your parents in time, right?”
You looked down at your hands, your heart burning with festering guilt, “How can I not?”
“You shouldn’t,” Hyunjin said bluntly, “They betrayed you to me, hoping that it would save them, when it only sealed their fate. There was nothing you could do about it.”
“I could’ve stopped you if I was only a moment earlier,” you argued, the guilt that had been bottled up inside you finally bursting out due to his prodding, “If I was only a little faster, then I would’ve--”
“Princess,” Hyunjin’s soft voice cut into your thoughts, “They didn’t deserve your kindness.”
You refused to admit how much his words soothed your anxiety, and in the dead of night, how they’d repeat in your head, allowing sleep to finally defeat the trauma your parents had instilled into you.
iv.
“Your Highness, please come sit down so I can do your hair!”
The sound of your exasperated maids filled your bedroom chamber as you huffed, tying your new silk robe in place before plopping down on the chair in front of the vanity, “What’s the rush? We have four hours before the wedding.”
Chaeryeong clicked her tongue in obvious exasperation, “Spending all your time out on the battlefield since birth, do you even know how much time it takes to get ready? Plus, you’re the future Queen, Your Highness! What would your husband think if you didn’t look prim and proper for the biggest event of your lives?”
Ah yes, your current fiancé. 
It wasn’t an exaggeration to say that Hyunjin was doing his utmost to get on your good side. The moment the two of you arrived at your palace, Hyunjin lavished his wealth on you and your upcoming wedding. Every day you spent with him, he’d give you a gift, ranging from a simple rose to silk robes made by the finest tailors on the continent. You’d told him over and over that you didn’t need extravagance like this, but the king paid you no mind, and the boxes continued to be delivered to your bedroom every day.
If you were being honest, your heart had begun to feel a little warmer to him, his gentle actions chipping at your icy walls. It wasn’t just the gifts, it was his unabashed care for you that made you think that he was almost excited to be married to you, a rather outrageous idea in itself.
“Your Highness!” a voice interrupted your thoughts as Yuna scurried over to you, “His Majesty is outside.”
“Outside of this room?” you asked, turning to face her in surprise.
She nodded in confirmation, “He says he has something to give you.”
Hyunjin stood at the other side of your door, already dressed immaculately in his uniform, spotless and practically dripping with charm. He had walked over to your bedroom, eager to present you with his daily gift when Yuna had slipped out and promptly stopped him from going in.
“I just want to give her a gift!” Hyunjin had protested weakly, but with how stern she was being, he felt like a scolded child rather than an all powerful ruler.
“I’m very sorry, Your Majesty, but you cannot see the Princess until the wedding ceremony.”
Hyunjin was practically pouting at that point, fiddling with the velvet black box in his hands, “Can I at least talk to her?” he asked, “I’ll slip it through the door.”
The maid gave him a weary look before relenting, “Fine. Wait here, Your Majesty.”
“Hyunjin?” you called out hesitantly from the other side of the door, his name no longer feeling foreign to your lips.
“How are you feeling?” Hyunjin asked, feeling the waves of anxiety calm just from hearing your voice. You couldn’t help but smile; even in this moment, where a typical king would already be in celebration with his friends, almost always in some sort of brothel, he still came to make sure you were alright.
“Nervous, but who wouldn’t be?” You chuckled, playing with the doorknob, and a part of you yearned to open the door just to get a look at Hyunjin’s face. The two of you have spent practically most hours of the day together for the last couple weeks, either dealing with foreign envoys sending their congratulations or revising the laws for your kingdom; it almost felt strange to not see him at all for the whole day.
You could hear shuffling from the other side before Hyunjin spoke uncertainly, “Oh, I have a gift for you.”
“Again?” A breathless laugh left your lips, “Hyunjin, you’ve already spent an unseemly amount of money on me these last few days!”
“I know, I know, but this one is special!” Hyunjin argued before his hand slipped through the crack, holding a black velvet box. You took it gingerly, still shaking your head in mild amusement as you opened the present, your jaw dropping.
“Hyunjin, this is…” your voice refused to work as you stared at the diamond necklace, individual gems lacing the front part of the chain, worth more than any of the jewelry your mother ever had, and certainly more than the ones in your possession that you’d buy from local jewelers to support their business.
“Do you like it?” Even without seeing him, you could hear the genuine eagerness in Hyunjin’s voice, and it warmed your heart in a way you didn’t know was possible, as if he had wrapped you up in fluffy blankets on a cold winter day.
You smiled, your fingers delicately brushing the silver chain, “It’s beautiful,” you murmured, before speaking a little louder in case Hyunjin didn’t hear you (he did), “It’s really beautiful, Hyunjin. Thank you.”
There was a beat of silence before Hyunjin spoke again, his voice softer than before, which made you lean closer to the door just to hear him. You could guess his purpose, to say something to you before the wedding and to keep it out of the ears of the nosy maids that were currently standing at the corner of your room, giggling and gossiping amongst themselves.
“I-I know that you never wanted this marriage.” Was that a stutter you heard? It couldn’t be.
Hyunjin cleared his throat before continuing, “I know, in some way, I forced you into this, and I apologize. I’ll do my very best to be a husband that is worthy of standing by your side.”
For a moment, you genuinely thought you were dreaming, the king’s words repeating in your head over and over and yet making no sense at all. Him being worthy of standing next to you? Who was the king here? Why was he lowering himself to your status?
“Hyunjin--” your hand was at the door, instinctively moving to push the door open so you could speak to him in person, but his reflex was just as fast, pushing back with his own hand and keeping the door shut.
“Don’t come out! You know it’s bad luck!” Hyunjin scolded you, his voice sounding slightly panicked.
You let out a sigh, wondering why everyone embraced so many of these superstitions, even him, “You’re right, the door stays closed,” you reassured him gently. 
Hyunjin didn’t speak for a moment, and you almost thought he had left without a word when he began softly, “I know you didn’t want this marriage, but if your heart could have some room for me,” he swallowed, “any room at all, wear the necklace when you walk down the aisle.”
When you returned to the vanity, a dazed expression on your face as the maids giggled and continued to apply your makeup, you looked at your own appearance in the mirror, your hand gently brushing over the simple necklace that currently adorned your neck. 
In accordance to the traditions of your kingdom, if your father was not alive to present you to your husband, it was expected of you to wear a gift from them as a symbol of their claim over you. The plain necklace with a single pearl charm in the center of it was the only jewelry you’d ever received from your father, and if you were being blatantly honest with yourself, you despised it.
Unconsciously, your other hand moved to rest atop the black velvet box now sitting on your vanity. Where your father’s jewlery felt like unwanted possession, you thought back to Hyunjin’s words. 
“I’ll do my very best to be a husband that is worthy of standing by your side.”
Why did those words send your heart into rapid beating? Why did those words feel so freeing, hearing your husband-to-be proclaim before his vows with such intimacy, only for your ears?
It didn’t take more than two minutes to come to a decision. You knew the path you had to take, the one that would allow you to break from the past and the constant obligation you’ve always felt.
“Yuna.”
“Yes, Your Highness?” Your maid smiles, immediately standing to attention as you open the black box. The other maids gasped at the sight of such a priceless artifact before them.
“Help me replace my current necklace, please.” 
v.
The wedding went without a hitch and you were officially the bride of the most powerful man on the continent. Even as the feast proceeded, your people utterly ecstatic that their beloved princess had been married off in such style, you found yourself playing with the ring that weighed down your fourth finger. It was just felt...foreign. 
As the night came to a close, and even the most drunken partygoers were politely escorted out of the palace gates, you were ushered into your bedroom by your maids, who looked a little too eager to have anything good planned.
“What are you all giggling about?” you sighed as they gently combed out the flowers in your hair.
“It’s your first night with the king, Your Highness!” Yuna answered, massaging your hands gently, “We have to pretty you up!”
“Oh?” you raised your eyebrows at her in suspicion before lightly jabbing her side, “Are you saying that I’m not pretty already?” 
Yuna fluttered her lashes innocently, “I didn’t say that, Your Highness,” Yeji and Ryujin hid their smiles and you only rolled your eyes, never finding it in you to be hard on any of them. The five maids have been by your side since you were young, and you were more than elated when Hyunjin had agreed to summon them back to the palace despite that they, more often than not, made you want to tear your hair out.
Like right now.
“I am not wearing that,” you shook your head, your voice dropping into a low growl. But one thing that always drove you a little insane, none of the girls were afraid of you.
Lia held up the lace sleepwear, smiling at you, “Hm? Why ever not?” She asked, as if the robe wasn’t practically sheer and leaving almost nothing to imagination.
“I’m dressing to go to bed!”
“Yes, going to bed with him, your new husband!” Chaeryeong laughed ushering you behind the divider, “Come on, you’re wearing that nightgown or we’ll tell His Majesty about the time you tried to climb the tower--”
“Fine! Demons, all of you,” you growled without any bite to it, and the only response were the laughter and giggles of your handmaidens. 
Hyunjin walked towards the bedroom, still wearing his uniform from the ceremony. Every few steps, he’d glance at the ring on his fourth finger. It wasn’t anywhere near the most expensive piece of jewelry he owns, but you had chosen it for him. You, his newly wedded wife. It made him positively giddy just thinking about it, but he contained himself because he was a king, for goodness sakes.
The door to his bedroom opened as the maids excused themselves. He recognized them as your handmaidens, especially because you had personally went up to him to request--no, demand politely--that they be brought back to your side. 
What was curious, though, was the way they were giggling amongst themselves, giggling that only grew when they spotted Hyunjin in the corridor. They gracefully curtsied at him before practically sprinting down the hall.
Hyunjin shook his head with a resigned smile as he opened the door to your now shared bedroom, “Your handmaidens were giggling nonstop as they walked out--”
The king’s voice completely failed to work for a solid minute as he gazed upon your figure, abashedly sitting on the edge of the bed. While he’d always thought you were beautiful, ever since the first, bloody meeting with your swords clashing, this was the first time he realized that you weren’t just beautiful, you were utterly divine. 
Whatever self restraint he had, the secret affection he’d buried for so long, it burst out like a raging fire.
“Hyunjin--” your words were cut short as the man rushed forward, his hand cupping your cheek as his lips smashed against yours, taking the gasp of surprise right out of you. 
It was unreal, the way you were being kissed, the way Hyunjin was kissing you. It was like nothing you’ve ever felt before, like a gust of wind was sweeping you off your feet. His lips were both gentle and insistent, tugging and giving to you in a way that gave you no choice but to let him in.
Your hands gripped at his uniform as Hyunjin hovered over you, his hands ghosting over your bare thighs as he gently guided you to lie down on the bed, never once pulling away from you. Hyunjin’s hands were roaming everywhere, cupping your face to touched the lace fabric on your waist. 
His name fell out of your lips as he squeezed your thighs, his tongue coming to  explore your mouth with a sort of urgency. It felt like the more you gave him, the more he took. 
“You’re so beautiful,” he breathed out as he finally pulled away for a moment to breathe, his lips inches away from yours. Glancing down, his hand trailed to your neck, leaving featherlight touches on the soft skin as he marveled at the way you looked all splayed out on the bed for him, “And that necklace, it looked stunning…” he trailed off as he began to work at your neck, kissing and sucking at the skin. 
He was just so good. His hands knew exactly where to touch, where to be gentle. His lips knew when to be soft and when to be aggressive. As your hands instinctively moved to card through his soft black hair, a small part of you, a tiny speck of doubt in your mind festered. How many times has he done this to be so experienced? How many have been in the receiving end of his ceaseless praises and touches? 
It was only a hint of doubt, and you tried to shove it within the depths of your mind. Hyunjin’s relationships before your marriage shouldn’t matter, and to be brutally honest, you didn’t hold yourself in high enough esteem to think that you’d be able to keep his interest for even more than a few days. As your mother had once said in scorn, you were more soldier than lady. 
When Hyunjin’s lips trailed from your collarbones to just above your breasts, you began to squirm a little, the panic slowly seeking into your body. The king, enraptured by his actions, continued to travel lower and lower, and the anxiety in your chest only grew until it snapped as his hands slipped under your nightgown.
“H-Hyunjin—wait—stop, please stop—” you gasped out, frantically beginning to struggle and writhe beneath him. There wasn’t much of a fight, however, because the moment your panicked tone made it to Hyunjin’s ears, he backed away, completely getting off you and kneeling beside your breathless form, his eyes wide with an expression you’ve never seen on his face before. 
Horror. 
“I-I’m so sorry,” he choked out as his hands fluttered anxiously around you, debating whether or not to help you or not to touch you out all. In the end, his hands delicately rested on your shoulder as he helped you sit up. Stupid, why couldn’t he read the signs? 
You shook your head as you began to shiver, the heated atmosphere from before now fading from your bones, “N-no, I’m sorry,” you whimpered, wrapping your arms around your body as if to protect yourself. From him. It made him sick to his stomach. 
“Don’t be sorry. It was my fault,” Hyunjin said firmly, and he grabbed one of his robes that were hanging somewhere in the bedroom, quickly returning to your side and throwing it over your shoulders, wrapping you up in clothing that actually covered you. 
What had happened? Hyunjin knew you were enjoying it at the onset. He could feel you kissing back, getting swept away as your hands lightly tugged at his hair. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have went so far to the point where he lost control of his own desire. When did you start panicking?
“No, not at all, Your Majesty,” you spoke softly, tugging at the robe around your shoulders to wrap it tighter around your frame, and Hyunjin had to physically hold back a flinch as his title fell out of your lips. You were his wife, for god’s sake! You didn’t need to call him that.
“I’m just...I’m merely overreacting,” you continued, hugging your knees to your chest and looking smaller than he’d ever seen you, “I understand that it’s a queen’s duty to...produce an heir,” you dipped your head, avoiding his eyes, “And I know this is a rather outrageous request, but I don’t want this until there’s at least some sort of affection between us.”
Hyunjin took a moment to process your words before his eyes widened. Oh dear, you’ve got this all wrong. You truly didn’t know. You didn’t know how much thought he’d put into the gifts he sent you. You didn’t know the way he’d tossed and turned the night before the wedding, childishly giddy at the very thought of marrying you. You didn’t know and didn’t realize it at all.
But it was alright. He could tell from just one look at you that you weren’t ready. And that was alright. He would wait. He’d wait his whole lifetime for you. 
“You aren’t overreacting,” Hyunjin said, his voice gentle as he moved to stroke your soft hair, “And you aren’t my queen just to produce an heir, you’re much more than that. I won’t ever push you until you’re ready.”
Your eyes widened at his words and your head whipped up to look at Hyunjin, who was now sitting on his legs on the bed in front of you, “B-but, what would people say?” you asked.
“We can pretend if it makes you uncomfortable, and if I hear any malicious rumors, I’ll put a stop to them,” Hyunjin answered, not an ounce of doubt in his words.
Despite your shaken state, you couldn’t help but chuckle softly, “How very terrifying, no wonder they call you the Ice King of the North,” this wasn’t the first time you’ve used that nickname on him, but it no longer held the malice it used to. Rather, there was a small playfulness to it, a gratitude for him being so understanding.
Hyunjin was happy to play along, anything to make you feel more at ease around him, “That’s a total farce,” he grumbled, “I never tortured soldiers for information, I just predicted their moves. I don’t need to stoop that low to win my battles.”
“Oh, you poor little one,” you said with mock pity, reaching up to pet his hair as if soothing a child. 
“Little one?” Hyunjin’s lips curled into a smirk as he rounded on you like a predator stalking its prey, “Are you sure I’m the little one here?”
“Hyunjin,” you warned, although it was hard to fight the smile from appearing on your face as you scooted away from you, “Don’t you--Hyunjin!”
You let out a squeal as Hyunjin pounced on you, attacking mercilessly with tickles as you fought back with the same amount of vigor. It was no use, though; Hyunjin was broader and had more than a head over you in height.
Your hand managed to latch onto a pillow and you took it smacking the side of his face hard with the fluffy object. The tide was turned, and you managed to slither out from under him, hitting him as you laughed. 
When you finally fell back on the bed, breathless and giggling, Hyunjin rolled over to you slowly. Cautiously, his hand wrapped around your waist, and to his utter surprise, you made no moves to push him away. Instead, you looked comfortable with the gesture, letting him pull you to his side gently.
“I’m glad it’s you.”
“What?” You looked up in surprise, feeling yourself snug against his chest as Hyunjin hummed, silently moving the covers up over your shoulders to keep you warm.
“I’m glad I married you,” Hyunjin murmured again, resting his head on yours.
You were silent for a long moment, his words ringing in his head. They were so gentle, so outrageously innocent for a man who you’d hated only a few weeks before. Slowly, your hand shifting, gently resting on his chest as you spoke softly, “I’m...glad it’s you, too.”
Hyunjin’s body tensed in surprise as if he wasn’t quite expecting you to parrot the words to him at all, and especially in that soft voice that only came out when you were showing your most vulnerable sides to him. His arm tightened around your waist as you closed your eyes, happily nestled in the embrace of your new husband.
interlude.
“Your Majesty. Your Majesty!” A servant waved his hand urgently as he rushed down the hallway. 
Hyunjin stopped short in his conversation with one of his commanders, Minho, spinning on his heels to address the man, “Yes, what is it?”
“Here is the invitation list for Her Majesty’s coronation,” he said, handing Hyunjin a long piece of parchment paper. The king unrolls the document, scanning through the guest list quickly before rolling it back in place, “Do away with this list.”
The messenger gawked at his request, utterly dumbfounded, “Your Majesty?” He stammers, puzzled.
“This list only includes the most high ranking officials and lords of the kingdom,” Hyunjin handed the parchment back to the messenger, “I want the throne room opened to all.”
“All?” Hyunjin’s commander sputtered, finally interjecting into the conversation, “Your Majesty, that would be a huge risk to take regarding security! Anyone could potentially sneak in and--”
“My Queen is not the type to only care for the noblemen, but also the rest of our people. We’ve already discussed it in length. She wants the common people present at her coronation as well,” Hyunjin replied.
Minho bristled internally. It had only been a few weeks since the king had brought home his new bride. The fact that he had not consulted with any of his military and economic advisors was already outrageous, and what made it even worse was how obviously besotted with her he was. 
Minho disliked her, along with the rest of the nobles. She was foreign blood and she was a technical prisoner of war. She also seemed to prioritize the commoners more than the people that actually paid for this monarchy. She threw a wrench in their plans, and they all hated her.
“Commander? Do you have anything to say in your defense?” The king’s icy tone broke into the man’s thoughts, Hyunjin’s eyebrow raised expectantly. 
It was only too bad that the king protected the queen almost more than he did his own life. 
“Nothing, Your Majesty. You are right, of course,” The experienced commander knew when to show his white flag, dipping his head in agreement. There was no point in angering his king over something as trivial as this.
Hyunjin obviously didn’t buy his saccharine sweetness, but he wasn’t petty enough to point it out either, “Speaking of the Queen,” he turned to the messenger, “would you happen to know where she is right now? She had wandered off to explore the palace after our military meeting adjourned.”
“Ah,” the poor boy blushed, feeling quite suddenly put on the spot as he answered, “I believe I saw her wandering into the garden, Your Majesty.”
The king could not hide a fond smile from flitting across his face in a brief moment of weakness, “I see, thank you,” he nodded at the boy, and the messenger was more than happy to excuse himself from Hyunjin’s presence. Finally left alone with the commander, Hyunjin turned to him smoothly, “Continuing our previous conversation, I will not enforce a toll between the borders of mine and the Queen’s kingdom. If you don’t have anything else to discuss, you are excused.”
Ah, it’s always the Queen, the Queen, the Queen. Minho thought it was nothing short of repulsive at how only the name of the woman would have his king turning over and showing his belly like an excited kitten. Gritting his teeth, he bowed, “Yes, Your Majesty.”
If this goes on any further, Minho might have to take matters into his own hands. But, for the moment, he didn’t need to get his hands dirty yet. A smile quirked up on his face as he mused about certain...possibilities. Maybe, with the coronation open to all, he wouldn’t even need to lift a finger. 
vii. 
To be honest, when Hyunjin was growing up, he had believed himself incapable of love. When his father had died early on in his life, he was raised by a mother that knew nothing but greed and a thirst for power. She controlled him like a puppet on strings, using her own son as a vessel for her own agendas. It had taken all of Hyunjin’s effort to finally break free from his mother’s clutches, and when he emerged into the world as a young king, he realized that he was well and truly destined to be alone.
But as he walked around the royal gardens, in search of his wife, his heart making a light skip at the mere prospect of seeing her, he wonder if this was what love was supposed to feel like. And as he stopped short, seeing the back of a familiar woman sitting on the bank of a small pond, her simple, yet elegant dress splayed out gracefully on the ground, he knew this was exactly what love was supposed to feel like.
Smiling to himself, the king walked over to you, shedding his uniform jacket and gently draping it over your small form, “Spending time with the bunnies again?”
You barely bat an eyelash as the familiar weight of Hyunjin’s coat fell upon your shoulders, holding onto it to keep warm as you smiled up at him, “Didn’t Commander Lee want to speak with you alone? What are you doing out here?” 
“The conversation was more trivial than I’d expected, so I cut it short,” Hyunjin waved off your worries, sitting down on the grass beside you. Suddenly to his right, two small, cream colored bunnies jump out from the bushes, bounding over to you, already familiar with your presence since you’ve spent much of your free time here. 
“Are you sure you should be making your displeasure so obvious? You know we rely on their military strength,” you spoke as you gently reached out to one of the bunnies, tickling its nose with your finger, a light frown on your face as you looked at Hyunjin. 
“I’ve made it very clear what I expect from them, and yet they keep disobeying me,” Hyunjin muttered, angrily ripping at the grass to vent his obvious frustrations.
As you studied Hyunjin’s face, you couldn’t help but sense that there was more to his anger at his commanders than he was letting on, “There’s something else, isn’t there?” you approached him cautiously. 
Hyunjin looked up at you, surprised, “What do you mean?” One of the bunnies hesitantly bounded over to him, and the king awkwardly pet them, trying his best to be gentle, especially after you’d given him a big scolding about being to aggressive with them a few weeks ago. 
“You’re not just angry because they question your policies,” you explained, your eyebrows furrowed in gentle concern, “I mean, I question you all the time, and we’ve only been married for a few weeks.”
The king couldn’t help but chuckle at that, “But it’s different when it’s you.”
“Why? Because we’re married?” you laughed at the sheer cheesiness of the statement, giggling as Hyunjin nuzzled his face into your shoulder playfully.
“What else could it be, darling?” the name fell out of his lips so naturally, he almost had to do a double take with how close he was to saying it like he genuinely meant it, and not just as a lighthearted joke between the two of you.
Instead of pushing him away, you smiled, reaching to gently ruffle his hair, “Don’t avoid the question,” you murmured softly, “what’s got you all worked up?”
Hyunjin debated for a moment before sighing. He could never refuse you of anything, “I don’t like how they treat you,” he said, his voice flat, “I don’t like the way they glower at you when they think you don’t notice, the way they keep trying to subtly tell me to find another wife.”
There was a moment of silence as you stated at him, almost dumbfounded. Then, to Hyunjin’s utter surprise, your lips curled into an amused smile, “That's it?”
Oh, the utter nerve of you! Hyunjin would feel offended if it weren't for the fact that he was angry for your sake in the first place, “That's it?” He repeated in disbelief, “Aren't you annoyed at all? They dislike you for no reason other than the fact that you're not one of them. Doesn't that make you even a little angry?”
“Why should it?” You merely shrugged your shoulders, smiling down at the bunny that was burrowing into your stomach for warmth, “Their twisted thinking is not my responsibility to change. If they're determined to hate me, no amount of money, fear or kindness will change that.”
It was quite amazing, seeing you so nonchalant. Hyunjin had done his best to help you adjust to the new customs, the colder weather, everything that might potentially pull you out of your comfort zone, but you took everything with such grace, such an aura of indifference. It almost turned him on every time he saw you brush off Minho’s jagged comments about your appearance, your background, your parent's crimes with a simple quip in return that would turn the commander's face a shade of deep red.
“You’re unreal,” The words fell off of Hyunjin’s lips before he could even process them. You're unreal? Hwang Hyunjin, you're supposed to be a notoriously smooth talker, a true diplomat!
The look on your face showed your surprise at his sudden comment as you asked almost worriedly, “What’s going on with you today?”
“What do you mean?” Hyunjin cleared his throat, desperate to salvage this rather awkward conversation. 
“Well, you seem more emotionally charged than normal,” you commented, “Did something happen?” A mischievous sparkle appeared in your eyes, “Someone catch your eye?”
“Of course. You.”
“Flattery won't make me go easy on you during our sparring practice,” you hummed absently, all of your attention devoted to the bunny in your lap as you tickled its nose with your gentle finger, cooing. 
Hyunjin couldn’t help but pout as his advances were all being brushed away, and he felt a little like a shy prince courting a lady for the first time. He glanced at the bunny with an expression akin to mild disdain, “You seem to play favorites, My Queen.”
You chuckled, lifting the small creature into your hands as it curiously sniffed at you, “Well, Sungie enjoys my company, too, more so than the others.” 
“Sungie?” Hyunjin repeated the name. He disliked it, mentally apologizing to whoever he’d meet in the future that had the unfortunate fate of being named Sungie. 
His blood boiled in a way that a petulant child’s would as he watched you giggle, pressing a light kiss to the bunny’s nose. Wonderful. Not only was this Sungie stealing your attention, he was stealing your kisses, too. When was the last time you kissed him?
Far too long ago.
Hyunjin sighed, and he gave up on his attempts to steal your attention, opting to tell you the more important news, “Your coronation is confirmed for next week.”
Your entire body froze, and you placed Sungie back into your lap, “That’s early,” you responded, and Hyunjin didn’t miss the thin layer of tension in your voice, the only sign that becoming the queen of two kingdoms was more daunting to you than you like to show, “I thought you said the nobles would never agree to it.”
“I think they grew tired of opposing you, since it’s so goddamn hard,” Hyunjin said, and your lips quirked into a wry smile, unconsciously driving him to do the same, “The head of staff gave me the normal list of the same, boring rich military men, but I told him to change it according to what we’d discussed.”
You didn’t speak for a long moment, your eyes drifting off into the distance as if thinking very carefully until his name fell out of your lips, “Hyunjin.”
“Yes?” The king tilted his head towards you inquisitively.
“Aren’t you tired of me telling you what to do?” You asked, meeting his gaze with an unreadable expression on your face, “You married me, the princess of a defeated kingdom, and I prance around making my own rules and then now uprooting your traditions. Aren’t you annoyed at least?”
Hyunjin only shrugged, “I didn’t chose you out of all people to be my queen just for you to stay silent,” he answered before letting out a fond chuckle, “And besides, you never tell me what to do. You just come in with a strong suggestion and we either argue about it civilly or we duel it out. That’s called council, and it’s exactly what you’re supposed to be doing.”
For the first time, you stared at Hyunjin in a new light. Was it just because of his words, or was your heart fluttering because of him? Hyunjin didn’t seem to notice how much his words meant to you, beginning to click his tongue sweetly at one of the nearby bunnies, petting their soft fur. Strange, he didn’t seem this attractive the few times he’d done this before. 
“Are you alright?” The man in your thoughts interrupted your daydreaming, “You’ve gone all quiet.”
You could only hope that the warmth on your cheeks didn’t show, “I’m alright,” you replied quickly, diverting your attention to Sungie, who had woken up, trying to burrow himself in your lap, “Just thinking about the coronation.”
“I see. Are you excited?”
“Excited?” You repeated with a chuckle, “I can’t say I’m dreading it, but would anyone be excited to carry the weight of two kingdoms on their shoulders?”
“Not everyone thinks about ruling in that way,” Hyunjin reasoned, reaching for one of the bunnies.
You shrugged, “Maybe, but I don’t want to treat my power like something I can carelessly wield--ah, not that aggressively!” Your eyes widened as you grabbed Hyunjin’s wrist when you noticed him reach for one of the bunnies without letting it come to him.
“Why? I was going slow!” Hyunjin spoke defensively, all of his senses heightened at the feeling of your small yet firm grip around his wrist. Cute, your hand didn’t even completely wrap around his. 
“Wait for him to come to you,” you instructed him, guiding his hand forward in the right movements to beckon some of the bunnies over to him. All your attention was diverted to helping him, and yet, Hyunjin could not take his eyes off your face, your perfect features, the kindness in your eyes, and those perfectly kissable lips.
He couldn’t wait until the day that a golden crown would adorn your hair, and you would sit in the throne beside him, a spot that no one else but you were worthy of. 
viii.
“Are you nervous?”
“Do you want me to lie to you and say that I’m not?” You replied from where you were standing in front of the full length mirror, Yeji and Ryujin putting on the last few accessories of your coronation dress. Per your request, the gown was bold, dark red chiffon falling to the ground with accents of gold plated metal on your shoulder plates. It was a statement, a statement that would tell Hyunjin’s kingdom that you were no prisoner, and a statement that would tell your own kingdom that you were still their princess in heart and soul.
Hyunjin leaned against the doorframe, watching you get ready and conversing with you. For a brief moment, you wondered if he’d sensed your nerves that morning, and had come to bother you only to get your mind off of the main event.
You stared at your own reflection, unwavering. But yet, the woman that stared back at you, the woman who was about to be crowned the queen of two powerful kingdoms, felt unfamiliar. This, this powerful woman, she didn’t feel like you. What good have you ever done with your power? What good will you ever do with your new power?
“Yeji, Ryujin, leave us,” Hyunjin suddenly spoke up, although not unkindly. The two handmaidens slipped their hands away from their work, having only to check the corset straps before they were done with you. 
When they left the room, you watched silently in the mirror as Hyunjin pushed off from the doorframe and made his way towards you. The king didn’t seem to be in a rush to speak either, and he took the corset straps delicately in his hands before securing the corset.
“I’m not ready,” Hyunjin said softly as he concentrated on his task, “That was the only thought running through my head on the day of my coronation.”
You didn’t speak, taking in the weight of his words, “I remember,” you answered softly, and as you watched Hyunjin’s brow furrow in concentration as he checked your corset, you couldn’t help but notice how intimate the moment was. “You were only fifteen when the former king passed away.”
“I was groomed for this role all my life,” Hyunjin hummed, slipping his finger into a few of the corset layers to loosen it just a little so you could breathe easier, “Ever since I was born, every waking moment was spent preparing me to be king, and yet, when I stood up there, I never felt more like an imposter than at that moment.”
It was surprising, hearing that Hyunjin, such a cool, levelheaded monarch even at his young age didn’t feel like he belonged on that throne, even though he of all people deserved to sit in it. You didn’t think that he did before, but after seeing him, spending every day supporting him, you realized that, beneath his disarming smile, his heart was gentle and he cared oh so much.
“My Queen,” your eyes widened as you felt Hyunjin take your hands in his, and you turned to face him, admiring the beautiful features that adorned his face. You could count his eyelashes, gazing into the plethora of hazel brown shades in his soft eyes, his soft, plump lips looking so kissable.
Hyunjin held your hands delicately, rubbing his thumbs against the back of them in an effort to soothe your worries, “You will be the most beloved Queen that the kingdom has ever had,” he murmured, “It might not be immediate, and it might not be in the next week, but there’s no one else that is worthy of the title.”
“When will I feel that way?” You swallowed as you looked into his eyes, letting your vulnerability show, “When will I ever feel that I’m ready?”
The king smiled at the question, squeezing your hands, “You won’t,” he said, an almost bitter taste to his words, “You will never stop second guessing yourself, no matter how long you wear that crown,” Hyunjin didn’t mince his words, knowing that you didn’t need shallow reassurance right now. You needed the truth.
“But, you can’t stop just because you don’t believe you’re ready,” he continued, reaching up to brush a strand of hair behind your ear, “Just know, you’re enough. You will always be enough.” 
Goddamnit, Hyunjin was making it very hard for you not to fall in love with him.
You took a deep breath, grounding yourself as you felt the tension leave your shoulders, “Feel better?” Hyunjin gave you an encouraging smile, seeing you that you looked more like your usual self.
“Much,” you smiled up at him, reaching a gentle hand up to brush a stray strand of hair away from his face. 
An hour later, you knelt before Hyunjin on the velvet carpet your head dipped down as the king recited the vows, the vows in which you were taking as the new queen. The pews were filled to the brim with people of all kinds, merchants, farmers, blacksmiths, maids, everyone eagerly trying to get a glimpse of you, your dress, your appearance. 
You repeated the vows, and with the dumb stroke of luck, your nerves refused to get the best of you, and you managed to go through the three-page long speech without any major slips. The crowd let out gasps of wonder as the crown, a marvelous artifact in itself with its gold base, its red rubies and diamond embellishments, was taken off its safe place on a red cushion. And with the gentlest of touches, Hyunjin slipped the crown atop your head as you looked down at the ground beneath his feet. As you lifted your head, you could’ve sworn Hyunjin had given you the most fleeting of winks, but you felt an ease flood through your jittery bones.
He stretched out his hand to you, gentle and inviting, and you slipped your hand in his, letting him help you up. Subconsciously, you held back the sudden urge to lean forward and press your lips against his. Unbeknownst to you, Hyunjin was restraining himself from doing just that.
As the two of you turned to face the adoring crowd, Hyunjin called out in a booming voice, “Long live the Queen!”
The sentiment carried on and on, echoing in the halls as you held Hyunjin’s hand tightly. You could feel the glower on the faces on the nobles, glaring at you with constrained hatred, but you could care less. The people wanted you, accepted you as their queen, and that was more than enough for you.
Smiling up at Hyunjin, feeling relief flood through your bones, the two of you were filled with glee as the cup bearer came out with the two glasses of wine to complete the ceremony, the unification of the king and queen.
“Want to give them something to remember?” Hyunjin murmured in your ear, taking his own glass.
“And how do we do that?” You smiled, raising the glass of red wine to him gracefully. 
The king’s eyes sparkled with a mischief that only appeared when he was truly happy, when he was utterly content, and one of his arms snaked around your waist, pulling you snug against him. The other, holding the wine glass in hand, looped around yours as the people began to clamor excitedly at the spectacle, “Like this, obviously.”
The close proximity made you blush, and you stared at Hyunjin, your heart pounding.
“What’s wrong?” He teased you, leaning closer, “Too shy?”
No, it wasn’t that, you thought as the two of you linked arms, getting ready to drink the wine together. All the moments your heart had fluttered, all the moments you felt as if time stood still whenever he held your hand, it all pieced together like a puzzle that was meant for only you to solve. 
Ah, you really did love Hwang Hyunjin. 
Tipping the glass upward, you caught sight of a small commotion in the pews behind Hyunjin. It sounded different from the excited squeals and gasps of the rest of the crowd at you and Hyunjin’s show of affection. It sounded almost like…
A man burst out from the seats, jumping over the rows as people screamed in terror and tried their best to get out of harms’ way. In that moment, you assumed he was here to attack you, especially with the manic look in his eyes and the razor sharp knife gripped in his hand. Hyunjin had warned you, after all, that not everyone in his kingdom was pleased that he’d married a princess from a foreign land they were at war with.
But he wasn’t aiming at you. He was aiming at Hyunjin.
Out of pure hatred and craze, he reached the two of you, slipping out of the guards’ grasp and advancing towards Hyunjin, his knife ready to sink into his heart. There wasn’t a moment left for hesitation, and in that split second, you lashed out, standing in front of Hyunjin and intercepted the knife with your hand. 
Time stood still as your own life blood trickled down your arm, the horrified gasps of the crowd became irrelevant, and you finally got a good look of who was trying to kill your husband. Your eyes widened, and from the distant past, you recognized the man. 
“Y/N!” Hyunjin’s voice broke you from your moment of epiphany, and you realized that the guards were already onto him, even as you gripped the knife harder, digging it further into your palm as the attacker struggled to pull it out.
“Wait,” you grit your teeth at the pain, glaring at the guards and tilting your head. Reluctantly, they pulled away from the man, obviously uncomfortable with the idea of watching this random person, this crazed attacker, hurt their newly crowned queen.
“Y/N--”
“I said, wait.”
Even Hyunjin froze at your tone, and the crowd died down, their earlier cries turning into conspiratorial whispers. What was the Queen doing? Has she gone mad? Is she ordering the King around?
Ignoring the commotion, the obvious stain that was now forming in your reputation, you looked the man straight in the eye and asked softly, “You’re...you’re one of my soldiers from the war, aren’t you?”
The man’s jaw went slack, utterly dumbfounded that his commander, and now his new queen had remembered him, a lowly foot soldier that lagged behind in the last regiments, “Your Majesty,” he stuttered over his own words. In his eyes, there was no anger left, only horror at what he had done, what he could’ve done, “I didn’t mean to--I only wanted some form of satisfaction.”
“I know,” you answered softly, loosening your grip on the knife as you noticed that his earlier resolve was crumbling. The man sank to his knees before you, and to the sheer horror of the noblemen in the crowd, you did the same for him, “I know. But this isn’t the way to achieve it.”
“I didn’t mean to hurt you, Y-your Majesty--” At last, the man dropped the knife and you let go, allowing the bloodied weapon to clatter to the floor. You ignored the rest of the world, you ignored the blood flowing freely from your wound, and you leaned forward, murmuring the words that you always uttered to your soldiers before every battle.
“Do you trust me?”
The man hesitated for a moment before answering softly, but without doubt, “Yes, Your Majesty.”
You smiled, “Then I will rebuild our kingdom in a way that will make you proud. I swear it.”
Knowing that your job was done, you backed away, and the man allowed the guards to take him away without any resistance. Then, from your right, you could hear Minho snicker under his breath, covering their mouths with mock politeness, and your face burned.
“Some queen she is.”
Despite the walls that you put up to hide your fears, your anxieties, you were only human, and you avoided the gaze of the crowd, knowing what they must think. A lowly queen that would bow before her own subjects, make promises to them rather than keeping her head high and mighty. 
You didn’t regret what you did for a moment, but you knew how terrible this must look, and how awfully this might impact Hyunjin.
The sound of soft clapping made your ear twitch. Then, it grew louder, it grew into cheers, it grew into clamoring, until by the end, the hall was filled with the excited sounds of the people, drowning out the mocking laughter of the noblemen. You stared out into the crowd in dumbfounded awe as the roaring chant reverberated in your ears.
“Long live the Queen!”
ix.
“Ow!”
You let out a hiss of pain as you sat in your nightgown by the vanity, your injured hand outstretched so it could be treated properly.
Ryujin clicked her tongue in mild annoyance, “Hurts, right? Maybe you should remember that the next time you grab a blade with your bare hands!” She snapped as she dabbed at the cut with a purple salve that the doctor had given you.
Glancing at her, you couldn’t help but chuckle softly, “You get so mad when you’re worried.”
“Who says I’m worried?” Ryujin scoffed, but both of you knew she was playing a bluff. Of course she worried, she worried the most out of all of your handmaidens, only hiding it with her brash attitude.
A soft creak of the door alerted the both of you, and Ryujin was halfway out of her seat already to berate whoever was walking in without knocking when she froze, immediately dipping her head respectfully as Hyunjin stepped into the room. 
You averted your eyes instantly, finding some very intricate patterns on the marbled floor as you refused to look at him. Hyunjin was the only person you haven’t spoken to since the coronation early that day, and there was no way he wouldn’t be angry. 
Hyunjin raised a brow, noting your actions the moment he walked in. If there was one thing you always did, even since the first meeting, it was to look straight into his eyes. You were probably the first to do it with such vigor, staring back at him as if practically daring him to challenge you. It was hard not to notice when you suddenly began to look away.
“Ryujin, please fetch us some tea, if you will,” Hyunjin spoke lightly as he walked over to the vanity, standing beside the two of you. 
Your maid glanced at you, and you gave her a weak smile, lifting your unharmed hand to rest on hers, “It’s alright. I can finish bandaging it, really.”
“Fine,” Ryujin stood up after a moment, brushing off her dress, “you better do it right. Don’t forget that time you refused to clean the cut on your leg after sword practice and the doctor threatened to chop your limb off when it got all gross and infected,” you could only stare at her back, utterly betrayed as she skipped off to do as the king commanded.
As the door shut behind her, you were hyper aware that it was only you and Hyunjin in the room, and the silence was more torturous than anything you’d ever experienced. Keeping your head down, you heard as Hyunjin took Ryujin’s earlier seat.
“Here,” you flinched a little as you saw his hand outstretched, his palm facing upwards.
“I’m...sorry…?”
“Your hand, please,” Hyunjin sighed, wanting more than anything to take your hand himself and bandage it as tightly as possible, but he’d wait. He’d always wait.
Hesitantly, you extended your hand, resting it on his with your palm facing up, giving him a clear view of the rather ghastly cut, which went deeper than he’d assumed earlier. With delicate fingers, he scooped up a dollop of the salve before gently applying it. You immediately recoiled at the sting, but Hyunjin gripped your hand tightly.
“Keep still,” he said firmly, focusing all his attention on treating your cut. You glanced at the way his fingers gently pressed against your palm, the way he handled you with such care, care that you’ve never experienced before, and slowly, the guilt the coiled in your stomach began to crawl up and out of your throat.
“Hyunjin, I’m--”
“Why did you do that?”
His voice was tight as he interrupted you, reaching over to the vanity table and grabbing the roll of gauze while he waited for your answer. You didn’t speak for a long moment because--if you were being completely honest--you weren’t sure what came over you at that moment.
“He was a soldier in my army during the war,” you explained cautiously as Hyunjin began to wrap the bandages around your hand, “He was obviously more desperate than malicious, and–”
“That’s not what I meant,” Hyunjin’s patience finally snapped as he tied the bandage tightly, causing you to let out a wince. You finally looked at his face out of confusion, and he gripped your wrist, holding up your injured hand. 
“Why did you do this?” He clenched his jaw as everything that he'd bottled inside since the coronation spilled out of his lips, and he stared into your eyes with such an intensity, it felt as if you were being consumed by his desperation, “The blade could've been rusted, poisoned, anything! What if you ended up having to amputate your whole hand just because of this? What if you died? Did you even think about yourself for a moment?”
“I didn't,” you said softly, squeezing your eyes shut as you confessed, “I wasn't thinking about myself at all, alright?” 
Hyunjin looked taken aback, “Then what were you thinking?” He asked, his voice still hard as he clutched your hand in his, “What on earth were you thinking about that could possibly make you risk your own life--”
“I was thinking about you!” You finally blurt out, looking down at your lap, too ashamed to even look him in the eye as your voice grew weak, “All I could think about was you, you getting hurt, and I realized that I couldn’t bear to lose you.”
A tense silence filled the room as you waited for Hyunjin to snap, to scoff at your weakness, to realize that you weren’t as strong as he once imagined you to be.
Your eyes widened when you felt gentle fingers tilt up your chin, guiding you to look up at Hyunjin. To your surprise, he looked almost pained as he shifted closer to you, his thumb brushing your cheek as he whispered, “Don’t say that.”
Confused, you let Hyunjin caress your soft cheeks, seeing that he looked almost desperate to touch you, “Say what?” You probed gently, reaching to rest your fingers on the back of his hand.
“That you don’t want to lose me. Don’t say things that m-make me think you love me,” Hyunjin’s voice sounded so utterly weak, and he studied your face as if you were the most previous jewel in the world. Did he always stare at you like that?
You swallowed nervously before asking softly, “What if I do love you?”
The reaction was instantaneous. Hyunjin closed the distance between your lips, smashing his against yours with so much emotion and desire that you were almost dizzy. He rested his hand on the nape of your neck, gently brushing your soft locks off of your shoulder as he deepened the kiss. This time, there wasn’t an ounce of resistance in your body. All you wanted to do was to let him in, let him sweep you off your feet and hold you close.
Hyunjin shifted, slipping an arm around your waist, and he easily lifted you in his arms, carrying you to the bed without once pulling away from the intoxicating feeling of your soft lips. Oh, how he missed them, how he’d dreamed of them for nights on end, not one dream as perfect as the reality. 
“I love you,” he murmured as his lips trailed down from your cheeks to your jaw and all the way to the soft skin of your neck, “I loved you for so long.”
Even in your blissful state, you managed to grasp the meaning of his words and you choked out between his frantic kisses, “H-how long?”
“Since the wedding, I’ve known that you were going to my one and only, my one true love,” Hyunjin said softly before pulling away. He gazed down at your state, both of your hands on either side of your head, your hair fanned out on the pillow beneath you. You looked like a goddess, and he’d spend every night thanking the gods that you were his.
“I never thought--I never even imagined,” Hyunjin rambled on as he dived for your neck, sucking gently as you let out a soft noise at the sensation. It almost drove him mad, “I never even dreamed that you would say yes, much less accept me at all--”
“It’s true,” you murmured, your eyes fluttering shut as your fingers reached up, carding gently through his hair, “It didn’t happen overnight, but now I realize. I love you.”
Hyunjin let out a groan at your words as they resonated in his heart, causing it to pound uncontrollably. He pulled away just for moment, his lips hovering over yours as his hands trailed down your sides cautiously, “I love you too, my Queen. So much,” he said, pecking your lips. 
You couldn’t help but smile, chuckling softly as you looked up at him, “Your Queen,” you repeated the title, finding that you loved it very much.
“Well, you are,” Hyunjin smiled in return, brushing a strand of hair away from your face before leaning down again, pressing his lips again yours as he mumbled, “my beautiful queen. The love of my life.”
Blushing, you threaded your fingers through his hair as he deepened the kiss, sucking and nibbling at your lips, causing you to giggle. Nothing felt rushed, nothing felt like one side was trying quickly to quench their desperation. It was just love, contentment, the purest form of peace.
Eventually, Hyunjin’s hands made it down to your legs, ghosting over your skin as he slipped a hand under your nightgown, freezing as he made it to your upper thigh, “Tell me if you want to stop,” he whispered, pecking your cheek. 
You stared up at him, full of love and adoration as you brushed his long black hair away from his face, “I don’t ever want you to stop,” you replied with a gentle smile, and Hyunjin never denied you of anything. He dipped down, his hands playing with the hem of your gown as the two of you finally surrendered to each other, letting the world slip away until the only thing that mattered to you was Hyunjin, and the only thing that mattered to Hyunjin was you. Always you.
Ryujin never came back with your tea, having decided to leave the two of you alone when she’d first turned into the corridor. A smug smile curled on her face, and she rushed off to tell the other handmaidens that they owe her ten gold coins.
epilogue.
You were awoken with gentle lips caressing your cheek, fingers lightly dancing over your bare waist. Mumbling softly, your eyes fluttered open and your gaze fell upon Hwang Hyunjin, who was resting on his elbow as he looked down at your previously sleeping figure with nothing but pure love in his expression. 
“Morning,” you smiled sleepily, giggling as Hyunjin leaned down, nuzzling his face against your cheek. 
“Sleep well?” He asked, his voice scratchy from just waking up. Even so, he couldn’t seem to get enough of you, running his hand up and down your side as his lips trailed from your own lips to your cheeks to your neck.
You hummed in response, playing lightly with his hair as you looked at the sunlight spilling into the window, signaling a new day, “I don’t think we did a lot of sleep, though,” you commented, smiling when Hyunjin pulled away, pouting at you.
“Can’t you let me be romantic just once?” He whined a little as he kissed down your body, kissing your shoulder, your collarbones, your chest, trailing down until he stopped at the soft skin of your tummy.
You giggled as he paused, squirming as he drew circles with his fingers on the skin before pressing a long, gentle kiss to it, “Mm...I hope you’re pregnant…”
“Hyunjin!”
“What?” Hyunjin laughed as he dodged your light swats of indignance, crawling back up to pull you into his chest, “We’d have our little heir, and it would get those good for nothing nobles off your back,” his voice held more bite as his jaw clenched.
You placed a hand on his chest, drawing soothing circles, “Don’t worry about them,” you murmured softly, looking up into Hyunjin’s eyes, “Just for today, just this once, let’s not worry about them at all.”
Hyunjin smiled, pulling you closer as his lips brushed yours.
“I don’t have a problem with that at all.”
fin.
~
a/n: a sincere thank you to anyone who made it this far ;;_;;
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Text
a second chance
pairing: thor odinson x reader
word count: 1,757
request: @clownerlyluv asked - if you write for thor, could do you a fluffy fic about the reader's and his arranged marriage? :))
warnings: thor basically ignoring reader and her feelings at first, choosing jane over reader, asgardian mead, getting drunk
summary: you and thor's arranged marriage does not work out until it does. :)
author's note: I honestly loved this idea and had a lot of fun writing it, so thank you for requesting!
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You had known early on that your father and Allfather Odin did much business together, attending many of his parties and becoming well-versed in the royal life. You were not royal yourself, no, but your family was on the wealthier side of Asgard, and was well-respected. The people of Asgard knew your family name and in turn, you made it a task of yours to at least know everyone in Asgard; they were all so kind and welcoming that you could not help but be respectful in return.
Because of your time spent around the royal family, you had grown to know Allfather Odin and Allmother Frigga sons, Thor and Loki. When you three were kids, you would always cause havoc within the palace, forcing the guards to have an eye on all of you at all times. However, over time, your closeness slowly dissipated and it seemed as though you three were strangers. Oddly so, you and Loki conversed much more when you were older, compared to you and Thor.
Thor had always been arrogant and loud, while Loki was reserved and quiet – which was probably why you two talked more than the other brother. You never disliked Thor, no! If anything, you’d say you have been chasing after him since you were kids, your childhood crush developing into one that caused you to admire Thor every second of every day.
So, when word was passed onto you and Loki about Jane of Midgard, well…your heart broke. You knew Thor never belonged to you, and he most likely never saw you as a potential wife in the future, but knowing that there was another woman, a mortal at that, you knew you had a reason to cry. You had tried to fall in love, to convince your heart to fall for someone else besides the god of Thunder, but it would not budge; you loved Thor, but he did not love you.
And that was the hardest pill you had to swallow when looking at him in front of you, seeming so disinterested, disengaged, that he had an arranged marriage with you.
Did you ever see this coming? No, absolutely not. Marriage to Thor was something you wanted, or at least dreamt of, but not like this – not forced. He clearly was unhappy about his father’s decision to marry you both, and you hated seeing him like this.
You wanted nothing but the best for Thor, but this was not the way to go about it. The vows seemed fake, written by someone else for you both, and the whole occasion within itself was just…awkward. After sealing your marriage, becoming Princess of Asgard, line to the throne after Odin handed over his kingship to Thor, the party began.
Asgardian Mead was tossed around, getting almost everyone drunk except you and Loki – Thor had immediately begun drinking once formalities were over.
Sitting on some stairs before they sunk into the dining hall of the palace, Loki shifted his gaze toward you, “feeling a bit melancholy, are we, Lady Y/N?”
You huffed towards the younger brother, “I am in no mood for your riddles, Loki.”
Loki went quiet for a few seconds before he continued, “would you prefer to talk about it? About all of this?”
You picked at your beautiful dress, skin softly grazing over the design pattern as you seemed more interested in that than anything else, “he doesn’t – nor will he ever – want me as his wife. I am not enough for him.”
Loki grasped your hand from picking at your dress, “my brother is an idiot, and it may take him a while to realize what a beautiful woman he has in front of him. He just needs time to move on from Jane; be patient, Y/N.”
You wished you could smile at Loki, but it was more of a grimace as you squeezed his hand, “I just wish there was something I could do for him, for him to – to love me as a wife, like a queen.”
The younger one nodded, agreeing with you, “and in due time, he will. He just has to use that embarrassingly small brain of his.” At that, the two of you giggled like Asgardian school girls.
Throughout the night, more and more party-goers seemed to feel the effects of the mead and headed home, saying goodbye to their future King and Queen. Your friends had already left, but not without telling you that they were going to spoil their future ruler the next day – that put a smile on your face.
Thor had been loud and boisterous all night, cheering to things that made no sense and yelling gibberish. As the night settled down, you took it upon yourself to bring Thor to your now shared chambers, telling him that there would be more mead tomorrow. With that, he wasted no time slipping your arm into his and making his way down the hall with clumsy footing.
Along the way, Thor and you sort of conversed – his words were so mixed together that you could barely understand what he was saying, but from what you gathered, he was happy. He was happy to see his friends and have a great time, and he was happy to see you dressed up so beautifully, just for him.
That had made a blush form upon your cheeks.
Entering your chambers, you helped Thor undress until he was left in undergarments, comfortable enough for sleep, as you took off the many necklaces his friends had put upon his neck. Once you were finished, he grasped your hand, rubbing it gently.
Your cheeks heated up, “are you alright, Thor?” His eyes grew glossy as he nodded, “I-I am, you looked so, so beautiful tonight, Lady Y/N… the beautifullest Asgardian there, I swear – I swear to you.”
You chuckled, “well, I sure hope so; I am your wife, after all.”
Thor gasped and a shocked expression appeared, “you’re my wife? My queen? Is that why you’re dressed so pretty?”
You ran a hand over his hair as he almost purred at the feeling, “tonight was our wedding, dear. Now get some sleep, it will do you good.”
And sleep did do Thor good as the next day, he remembered nothing of what he said and continued on as if your marriage hadn’t happened.
You knew he was still angry, furious, about the fact that he could not see Jane anymore, yet you knew he asked Heimdall almost every day to see through her, if she was alright. You did not hate her, no, but you hated how much power she had over Thor. You, along with Asgard, needed the future king – but here he was, obsessed with a Midgardian.
This habit of his had continued for weeks and during that time, your therapeutic sessions spent with Loki did you good. At first, much of it was crying and being so heartbroken that Thor just could not stand the fact of being married to you. However, Loki had persuaded you to stand your ground to him, to tell Thor how much this was hurting you, how much he was hurting you.
One night, Thor had come back from his nightly visits to Heimdall to see you standing in the middle of your chambers, arms crossed and an absolute furious – yet hurt – look on your face.
The god of Thunder was speechless, “Lady Y/N, I thought…you were asleep?”
You gritted your teeth before you answered, “I haven’t been sleeping since the first night you visited Heimdall to see Jane, Thor.”
Thor tensed, “how did you-“
You dropped your hands, “I am no idiot, Thor! I am not blind to your utter distaste for this arranged marriage, nor am I blind for your disinterest in me. I know I am not who you want, Thor, I know – but I am trying to make this work! I want this to work, but you are making this so unbelievably hard with your daftness, and of course, being in love with someone else. So please, I am begging you, just please treat me like I mean something to you, like I have at least some value in your life.”
Thor stood silent, eyes dropping to the ground as took in your words. He had been, what his friends say, an absolute asshole, to you; it was unfair and he deserved everything that you said to his face and most likely, behind his back. He lifted his head, “I am…so sorry, Lady Y/N. I have been unfair to you and for that, I apologize.” You sighed in relief, “thank you. And I have to apologize, too – I cannot imagine the heartache you are experiencing with your Midgardian.”
Thor let out a breath, “Heimdall has not allowed me to see her anymore. He believes I am – was – being unfaithful to you.”
Another point to Heimdall for being the best Asgardian ever.
You nodded, “while I wish I could say otherwise, I am somewhat glad of that decision.”
Thor walked towards you, hands reaching out to hold your hands, “I know I have been unfair, and in a way, unfaithful to you, my wife, but allow me to redeem myself?” Tears welled in your eyes but you pushed them away, trying to focus on the moment taking place, “of course, Thor – and I will do better to care for my husband, Asgard’s future king.”
Thor’s hands then moved to your cheeks, thumbs softly grazing your skin before he smiled, leaning down and catching the corner of your lips. You smiled softly, feeling his lips just barely meeting yours before he pulled away, “I do not mind proving myself worthy over time of being able to taste your lips, Lady Y/N.”
You smiled at him before grasping his cheeks in your own hands, brining his lips to yours as you both sighed in happiness and relief. Thor leaned back slightly before kissing you once more, laying kiss after kiss upon your lips as you giggled against his own, “I will never grow tired of that sound, nor the taste of your lips, my queen.”
You kissed Thor before you leaned back on your own, “and I will never grow tired of your compliments, nor your show of affection, my king.”
Thor’s heart raced in excitement and joyfulness as you, a woman that he initially had treated poorly, had given him a second chance; your own smile grew as you gave Thor, a man who had initially treated you poorly, a second chance.
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the-second-tonks · 3 years
Text
The Dark Past | E.P
Part : 1 of the series
Warnings : Arranged marriage , awkward moments (not so awkward lol) , thunder and lightning , changing POV's , short span time skip , anything else?
Pairing : Edmund Pevensie x fem!reader , Lucy Pevensie x fem!reader (platonic)
Summary : After an alliance marriage with King Edmund , y/n begins the new chapter of her life only to be welcomed by her worst fears - thunder and lightning . But the thing to be noted was the fearless princess- y/n had a fear as such ..
Age : Edmund is 18 , reader is 17. (Golden age)
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Reader's pov
I sat next to my husband , King Edmund , as we waited for the reception to end . Yes , marriage reception . I and King Edmund were trapped together in an arranged marriage . It wasn't that we weren't given time to talk and make things less awkward , but maybe we didn't utilise it . He was too quiet to talk , and I was too stubborn. How could I help , I didn't want to get married ! I kept fidgeting with my fingers , a sign that I was nervous as hell and uncomfortable , as me and King Edmund sat too close . Our knees kept brushing , sending waves of currents down my spine . I wanted this to end soon but as much as I wished it to end early , it kept on delaying . Till now , Lucy had helped me a lot . She was the only one I was comfortable with till now . The dress I was wearing made me feel itchy , but I couldn't care less . I decided to get lost in my thoughts about my past as a princess . I had dreams , ambitions and I was determined to fulfill them . People called me the fearless . But alas , life had different plans . Instead of learning advanced swordfighting , I was married to Narnia's best swordsman himself . Instead of letting me wear shirts and harem pants like I did since childhood , I was made wear long gowns and dresses . Instead of having my independence , I was made follow rules and traditions . Instead of letting me use my excellent resourcefulness to plan battles , I was married to a king who is better than me and won't even need my help in plannings . Instead of letting me speak as I used to , I was made shut so as to maintain my kingdom's reputation in Narnia and ofcourse in front of my oh-so beloved husband . It was all too much to control inside and I was shocked by my abilities to supress my anger , annoyance and rebellions so much . I just continued to sit there with a poker face and occasionally smile . I was looking around , just to spot my in-laws looking so happy , or maybe there were amazing in pretending (with the help of trainings ofcourse) or they were genuinely happy . Every narnian was enjoying themselves , but I liked the Narnians . They were very warm and welcoming .
Time skip**
Now , the complete hall was almost empty , except for the castle workers , who were cleaning everywhere . My back ached from sitting for so long , but I was more than eager to get up and get some sleep so to as to escape the reality for a while . I got up immediately , the warmth from king Edmund's body immediately got longed for- wait , wat?! No no no , u shouldn't be thinking this y/n . I shrugged the thought away quickly , and soon felt someone beside me . Ofcourse , king Edmund . As much as I sounded creepy , I wanted to hear the handsome man's voice . He had spoken to a few narnians but that wasn't enough to memorize his deep , alluring voice . He carefully kept a hand on my back , urging me to move . I kept walking with him behind me until Lucy came into my view . I turned to look at King Edmund and , for the first time , I spoke to him "King Edmund , if u would excuse me , I wanted to have a little talk with lucy .." I added as much politeness as I could , despite my sour mood. He looked shocked for a second , but soon recovered . He opened his mouth to speak something , and I waited for it , but it never came. He simply nodded and walked away . It caused my heart to clench a bit , but I pushed the feeling away and approached my only friend (well , I know she's my in-law , yet ) and saviour , Lucy Pevensie .
As soon as I approached the girl wearing a cute floral gown , she turned in my direction , smiled at me . She politely excused herself from the castle workersshe was talking and came to me . "How was it??" She asked , excited about who-knew-what. " What are u talking about Lucy?" I asked her , confused . " Oh come on , me , susan and Peter kept all the guests away from u for a reason . Don't tell me u didn't talk with Edmund !" She spoke . I slowly let my head fall , biting my lower lip , looking at the floor . She sighed sadly and spoke "U are a perfect match for my brother . I shipped u with him from the beginning , but u have to talk with him , y/n. U remember u came across as shy in front of me too , but see it now , u are the more talkative one . U have to get comfortable with him so as to let him know that u are shy at first but then , u talk non-stop.." lucy lectured . I smiled a bit at it and spoke with a grin "Sure , ma'am , I'll try my best !" I and lucy ended up laughing a bit , but she spoke "I was a bit serious by the way " . I nodded a bit and spoke "Yeah , u are ryt lucy , but it's just the first day . I'll try my best from tomorrow . " She smiled at me . I bid her a good night and saw her walk away and into her room .I'll remember the way to her room , i noted it and turned around to see king Edmund looking outside the window , the slight cool breeze making his dark brown hair fly out of his forehead . His choclate brown eyes shone with the beauty that Narnia reflected. His palms clutching the pane tightly. He was so concerntrated that he didn't notice me approaching him . I had to clear my throat to bring him out of his daze . His head shot in my direction and he smiled a bit , leading me to his room-our room.
As soon as I entered his room , I felt homely . I was so glad to see that his room was clean and super organized . I liked it that way . I smiled . Maybe the room won't be that bad to stay in , I thought . The room had a small desk and chair , piles of papers neatly kept on it . A big size bed , a few windows and a big balcony , curtains flying due to the slight breeze . The room was dimly lit since the light from the windows wasn't enough due to the cloudy weather .
Time skip**
After changing , I was about to sleep on the bed when I saw king Edmund picking up one of the pillows and going somewhere . While his back faced me , I knew what he was doing but decided to question him to stop him "Where are u headed to , my king?" I asked adding my king as my mother had taught me to . He turned around almost instantly and spoke "To the couch , Princess " he spoke in an obvious tone , ofcourse it was a stupid question . I knew king Edmund was highly sarcastic (info credits to Lucy) and I appreciated his attempt of answering me with the least sarcasm . "No .. don't ." I spoke but instantly regretted . He looked wide eyed at me , a blush could be seen on his cheeks despite the dark . An awkward silence settled , but I cut it , speaking "The bed is quite big for the two of us to sleep " I said . "At a comfortable distance " I added it immediately. He nodded , understanding my proposal .
Time skip**
I laid on my right side , facing the end of the bed . Edmund was facing the other side , maybe asleep by now. My eyes started dropping due to tiredness but before I cud fall into sleep , a loud crashing sound jolted thru the room . My eyes went wide with fear as blue light stuck out in the sky . Lightening and Thundering . I hated it , hated every bit of it . I always used to clutch onto my mother and later my sister whenever it was thundering or lightening . I never knew that , in Narnia , thunders and lightening was far more worse than it was in my kingdom . But now, I had nothing except the blanket to clutch on . Tears started pooling my eyes as another sound rang thru the room causing my eyes to go numb for a second . I cupped my lips to not let a yelp escape . I didn't want to wake King Edmund . He would definitely think this was a stupid fear , because it was . I didn't know why , but the thunder had always terrified me . It was one of my worst fears . I had to go somewhere , had to hold on to someone before I start to cry . I slowly got up , shocked at my bravery , but sneaked out of the room (thanks to my trainer who taught me sneaking techniques for emergency situations) . The thunder sounds causing my heart to stop for a mere second , pushing me a step next to crying . There were only the gaurds in the passageway and I was thankful for it . I ran to Lucy's room , happy that I remembered where her room was . As much as I knew , she wouldn't judge me .
Time skip**
Lucy's pov
After y/n had come running to my room , I let her sleep with me . I was sad to know that she had to face one of her worst fears during the time where she was away from her loved ones. As she held my hand , she was asleep . But I couldn't sleep yet . Edmund should've been the one to comfort her . I have to bring both of them close to each other . But just to wonder , quite curious to know why she , the fearless , was scared of thunder and lightning . Maybe , there was a past that I was yet to know about her ..
Part 2!
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They are so freaking domestic and married and functional the whole time I can’t!!! They bicker and banter with ease of two people who feel secure and confident around each other and know each other’s boundaries and limits and don’t need to worry about offending the other person or the conversation turning antagonistic which allows them this sort of brutal honesty, at times, and frank criticism.
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Issei gets the edamame shell husband treatment and he literally can’t believe it Hayame did that to him right in front of his salad when it already helped to ruin her previous relationship. It seems Hayame didn’t understand his lesson about the difference between the edamame shell and skin, well, she was in the middle of confronting her cheating ex so I suppose she was otherwise engaged.
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Though, poor Issei doesn’t know the depth of Hayame’s culinary disability until he discovers her special lemon and cereal gyoza! HA! I admire that he doubles down on his criticism and even if he tries to back pedal, he simply can’t make himself lie to her even to please her when it’s so awful.
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Unlike her ex-husband, he doesn’t put on a fake smile and swallows it so he wouldn’t hurt Hayame’s feelings but actually tells her it sucks bigly, showing that not only won’t he ever lie to her or keep secrets from her, he won’t feed her white lies to avoid conflict either. You almost never see portrayed in Asian dramas how these little mundane details can lead to a complete failure of a relationship once they pile up. Quite the opposite, they often depict swallowing food that makes you puke as something romantic and a proof of love without giving any thought to the fact whether the person can manage that for the rest of their life, considering it’s suggested most of the OTPs live happily ever after. The issue shows that Hayame and Issei are already more than one step further regarding the growth and functionality of their relationship than she ever came with Masahiro, illustrating their suitability. It’s not about a relationship being conflict-free, it’s about confronting the problems, argue about them even though it’s exhausting and uncomfortable and solve them through communication and misucommunication, not about hushing the issues up and staying silent about them in order to avoid arguments.
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The drama might be called Promise Cinderella but it has been turning the Cinderella stereotypes on their head since episode 1. One of them is Hayame not fitting the bill of a girl who is amazing at cooking, sewing, reading, embroidering, polite conversation, dancing and generally being more princess-like than all the princesses and noblewomen, even though her mother died in her childhood and she couldn’t have taught her all those things, neither could her father, nor the mice or the other animals she spent all her whole time with. Let’s face it, Cinderella has always been the fairytale counterpart of Richardson’s Pamela and Hayame - divorced, almost thirty, penniless and jobless - is the modern real-life version of an orphaned abused virgin fallen on hard times. 
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On the other hand, while Hayame might share Cinderella’s origin story of her mother dying at an early age, this sad event tragically affects her whole life in a much more realistic and darker way. Her father falls into a depression and becomes neglectful and she has to grow up overnight, having to learn everything by herself as she is left with no one to teach her, guide her and defend her so she ends up turning into a fiercely independent tomboy who is a self-taught cook and, as such, her cooking, well, sucks. She is literally the farthest thing from a Mary Sue ever. 
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Then, Issei may be a modern version of a prince but while young, he has been taught since an early age and has a very unconventional unique upbringing in a modern world - he is the one who excels at cooking (because he had someone who actually taught him), can tie kimonos, knows the proper etiquette, can arrange flowers and knows their language and meaning. 
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You would expect all those things from a woman, not a man; however, he is not only educated and good at them, he has a natural talent for them. In this way, the drama re-invents the Cinderella story, gives it a new original meaning and a breath of fresh air. 
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Thus, you can see all these details in which Hayame’s relationship with Issei differs from her marriage - they are left to live together alone in what is basically a simulated marriage, but she doesn’t end up in the traditional role of a woman and housewife whose purpose is to provide dinner/food for her husband who comes back from work. She used to work back then, too, even if only part time. Now, it’s her who works full-time while Issei works part-time but despite it they share the cooking and he, fittingly, ends up being the better cook, completely changing up the dynamic of the traditional roles both in the original fairytale and male/female relationships in general.
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Except for a brief denial stage caused by his confused feelings, Issei has always been honest with Hayame, sometimes brutally so, be it regarding the major issues or mundane everyday things like her cooking skills. 
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He treats her the way she wants her to treat him, and, as a result, he rightfully expects the same honesty and consideration in return from her. He doesn’t want any lies or secrets between them, he wants a conversation not a deafening silence, regardless whether they are lovers or friends. 
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He wants honesty and equality and instead, Hayame is trying to dismiss him as a child again in an attempt to avoid the problem because it’s uncomfortable and she doesn’t want to have a messy argument or worry him. She should have known by now that that’s exactly the attitude which led to the failure of her marriage. Not that they are an excuse or justification for cheating, but Masahiro raised some good points about the things he disliked about her and it’s time Hayame learns from her past mistakes.
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Marriage/romantic relationship is not a one-person show, the point of it being you are not alone to deal with your problems, some burdens should be shared and if not, the other person feels left out because their partner keeps secrets from them which then leaves many opportunities for misunderstandings and creates a rift that keeps growing between the couple. Hayame’s greatest strengths - her self-reliance and independence - which allowed her to survive on her own so far become her greatest weaknesses and drag her down now. 
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Issei immediately realizes Hayame has been putting a mask around him, trying to make herself look cheerful and happy, he can see through it right away as she can never fool him because he knows her so well and, frankly, she couldn’t pretend even if her life depended on it just like him. She fails to notice that this sort of consideration and selflessness are a double-edged sword. 
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It’s both apt and ironic she tries to dismiss him as a child because her stubborness, discomfort and avoidance maker HER appear like a child and Issei the one 10 years older with his patience, calm and and persistence on discussing and solving the whole issue. This time it’s him who calls her out on her bullshit and childishness.
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Issei notices everything about Hayame, including her mood swings which also refer to the mixed signals she’s been sending him, and how could he not when he always watches her so searchingly as if he were trying to look inside her soul, trying to spot every quiver of her lashes and nervous press of her lips. 
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Thus, he can sense and predict what she plans to do because he can read her like an open book after watching her so closely for so long but also because he’s been there where Hayame is right now - he had been running away for the past 10 years before he met her and she saved him by making him realize he had been fucking up his life that way, therfore he gets angry seeing her repeating his mistakes. 
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Moreover, he is scared shitless he may one day wake up and end up like Seigo, abandoned by her, not even left with a direction where to look at her, because she thinks she is not good enough and fears she might drag him down and mess up his life.
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Despite it all, Issei doesn’t think about himself first, he thinks about Hayame and what it is she truly wants. She feels so lost and conflicted, fretting and completely panicking and he pretty much tells her ‘fuck the world and other people! You are the only person who matters! Think about yourself first and do what you truly wish to do even if it makes them hate you.’ And from the hopeful way she looks at him, it’s exactly what she needs to hear and wants to truly do but lacks the courage to go through with it just yet. 
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Finally, THIS SHOT on the sofa! It pretty much says ‘married, in the middle of marital crisis and before a huge life-changing conversation’!
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oddsnendsfanfics · 3 years
Text
Unraveling at the Alter
Genre: Fan Fiction
Pairing: Henry Cavill/OFC
Warnings: Fluff.
Rating: G
Length: Drabble
Disclaimer: a strict work of fiction, I own nothing except the original characters and the plot line. In no way am I affiliated to any of it.  
A/N: Thank you @agniavateira​ for helping me with this :) It is massively appreciated. 
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Henry Cavill Master List
This was it.
Years of waiting.
Years of heartache, joy, and more love than he knew was possible.
Henry sighed and rubbed his hands against his slacks, licking his lips nervously, he rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet. Oh god. Oh god! He bent forward, fighting the urge to vomit. Why the fuck was he so nervous? It's not like this was anything new. He'd been madly in love with her for years, even when they weren't together he had held some sort of twisted hope for this very day.
Not to be that man, but Henry had been somewhat in love with her from the first week he'd met her. All of those years ago, some days it felt like an entirely different life.
“Dad,” Ivan laid his hand on Henry's arm.
“Hmm?”
“Are you okay? Do I need to get Uncle Charlie?” His blue eyes watched his father with great concern.
All morning the house had been consumed in chaos. Henry had taken up residence in the office, at the opposite end of the house from where Nell had been getting ready upstairs. His brothers – and Nell's, fathers, mothers, Ivan, and Kal had been in and out of the room a hundred and one times. Until his mother had the sense to ask them all to get out. With the exception of his best man and his dog.
Henry was thankful for the bit of silence, before the actual ceremony.  Evidently he wasn't hiding his nerves as well as he had hoped to.
“No, wild boy, I'm fine. Thank you.” Henry forced a smile to ease his son's worries. “Have you seen your mum?” Henry hadn't set eyes on her since this morning, when he was woken by Ivan jumping on their bed and urging his dad to hurry downstairs.
Ivan smirked, his eyes sparkling as he nodded eagerly. He had never seen her look so pretty, he may have even cried a little. “Dad, she looks like a princess! But without all the stupid frills and no singing mice.”
Henry laughed at Ivan's details. Leave it to Ivan.
With some tradition, Henry had yet to see the dress that Nell had picked. His only hint had been that it wasn't a traditional wedding dress, although she was confident he would love it all the same. She was head over heels for her dress. The delicate blue and white beading at the top gave way to a flowing emerald satin skirt. She'd found it while looking for bride's maid dresses.
Since they were getting married in their own garden, Nell felt that a relaxed look would be acceptable. Besides, she had no interest in putting on a big poofy, over the top dress, only to take it off an hour later and never wear it again.
Unconfirmed, Henry had a sneaky suspicion that her dress in some way matched the attire she had found for him. Nell had convinced him to go with a dark green waistcoat and slacks,  who was Henry to argue. She had been dressing him long enough to know what he would look good in. Ivan looked adorable in his matching attire.
A soft knock on the door, with something mumbled through from the hall, indicated that it was time for Henry, his best man, and his dog to take post in the garden.
“Coming,” Ivan called back, smiling like the cat who'd found the canary.  
“Kal,” Henry whistled, the big dog lifting his head and huffing. Slowly standing with a yawn, Kal licked his lips and sauntered over to big Henry shaking his head. This silly blue bow tie that they had put on him was beginning to get in the way of a good nap. “Come on, bear. It's time to roll.”
“Dad,” Ivan walked beside Henry, his hands in his pockets.
“Yes?”
“Are you happy to be marrying mum?”
“I have no words to tell you how happy I am, wild boy.” Henry beamed. “Are you happy about this?”
“I guess,” Ivan shrugged and smiled. “If it makes you and mum happy. Why not?”
“Always the supportive one,” Henry rolled his eyes, chuckling at Ivan's passive demeanor.
The groomsmen looked smart, well put together, and turned out better than Henry could have imagined. Ivan stood straight, his hair styled to match his dad's, with Kal at his side. One bride's maid, then two, a third, then fourth, by the fifth Henry was again feeling like he was going to vomit. Deep breaths. Hands sweaty, he wished he'd asked to see Nell before hand. He would have been able to tell her how spectacular she looked while crying like a baby, in private.
No use wishing for that now.
As the music began, he could feel his hands shake. Kal whimpered beside Ivan and nudged his nose into Ivan's side, moving him closer to Henry. Smiling at his dad, Ivan reached out, taking his hand.
Nell had spent the morning fretting over every tiny detail of her day. Was her hair the right way, her make up as she had sampled? Did her dress fit and fall the exact way it had the moment she'd fell in love with it? Would Henry be pleased? Would he be as shaky as her? Crying and trying to catch breath.
More than once, Nell had felt like she was being sat on by an elephant. Only to be filled with sudden excitement and wanting to scream in pure delight. Her sister and mother had barely left her side since she'd woken. Ivan had come barreling into the room before dawn, jumping on the bed and shouting for Henry to get out. Leave it to their son.
Her father had assured her that Henry looked every bit dashing and handsome as she had wished. Perhaps more, now that she saw him in his perfect wedding suit. They couldn't have planned this better. The weather was amazing, for a mid November day. Nell had worked hard on her garden, since they'd moved in a few months ago, making sure it was perfect for the day.
“How is your dad?” She'd asked Ivan a few hours ago.
A mischievous grin, the wild boy shrugged. “He looks like a prince, but without the stupid Disney animation.”
Cheeky. Like his father.
Taking her father's arm, Nell inhaled and exhaled slowly. Her hands trying to steady the bouquet that she held in her left hand. Around her the music began to play, when asked about music for the ceremony Nell had casually mentioned how cool it would be to have an instrumental version to one of her favourite songs. What she hadn't been expecting was Henry to deliver.  One bride's maid...two...She closed her eyes, willing herself not to cry before she got down the aisle.
“Deep breath, Nelly.” Walt winked gently patting her hand. Nell nodded and smiled. “You're going to knock him dead, sweetheart.”
“Thanks, dad.” Her voice barely cracked above a whisper.
“Ready?” Walt looked at his youngest, smiling wide.
A slight nod, Nell took her first step forward, humming to the music to soothe her. The distance from the back door of the house to where Henry waited in the garden was exactly 152 steps, at the pace she would be going. She had practiced a time or two, while she had been home alone – using Kal as a stand in for Henry. In the garden a few chairs were placed, along with a delicate arrangement of lights. Who would have thought she'd be able to pull this all together in less than four full months.
60 people, all who were close and meaningful, around the garden to share in the day. Nell could feel the tears welling. At the end of the meticulous stone walkway, Henry stood with Ivan clutching his hand. Neither one of them did a very good job at keeping the tears at bay. Ivan reached up, wiping his sleeve across his eyes. Henry swallowed the lump in his throat trying not to sob loudly.
Ivan had been right when he'd said Princess. Nell was somehow more spectacular than Henry had imagined. Walter stopped, giving Nell a kiss on the cheek and Ivan a quick wink. Stepping forward to meet his bride, Henry let out a breath and a low whistle.
“Thank you,” He gave his father in law to be a quick nod.
Muttering back a quick congratulations, Walt took his seat in the front next to his waiting wife. Kal leapt forward a little greeting Nell with an affectionate “boof!”.
“Kal, sit.” Ivan quickly hushed the big dog.
Giving the couple a quick moment to sort themselves, Michael smiled and patiently stood. Henry had asked him to marry them, off the cuff, since he and Nell couldn't agree on anyone else to do the job. A soft laugh from the crowd when Kal tried to wiggle free from Ivan, again.
Ignoring the bit of commotion around him, Henry was lost in the sight before him. The soft, gentleness was Nell through and through.
“Oh, my darling.” Henry cooed, holding her hand tightly. Kissing the back of her hand, he smiled warmly. “You look,” he swallowed the lump in his throat. “You,” he sniffled. “Janelle, my darling.”
“Dad,” Ivan nudged him with his elbow in the back, Kal contained by his uncle beside him. “Tell her she's pretty! Don't just stand around and cry.”
A camera flashed and a few chuckles filled the air, from those close enough to hear Ivan's commentary. Rolling his eyes, Ivan sighed and gently shook his head. Adults.
“Shush, you.” Henry chuckled at Ivan, tears on his cheeks. “Nelly, you are...wow. Absolutely wow!”
“I love you,” Nell smiled, kissing his cheek. “And you, wild boy” she peeked at Ivan, “stop teasing him.”
“I love you all, and I hate to rush this moment, because you look fantastic.” Michael shook his head, trying to stop his own flood of tears, his baby sister looked absolutely stunning. “But...” He gestured to the crowd.
Nell giggled and Henry laughed. “Of course, of course.”
“I love you,” Nell mouthed quickly to her big brother.
Reciting vows that they had written for one another, exchanging their rings, and listening as Michael recited some words about love and marriage – no doubt something he had found when he went online to become ordained, Nell couldn't help herself as she became lost watching Henry. A time or two she had heard their guest chuckle, which prompted her to giggle along. Words lost to her, as she admired the man before her.
The crinkles on his eyes, the soft dimples when he smiled, or the smoothness of his voice when he read her the vows he'd written. God she had been so lucky.
“You are now husband and wife.” Michael happily announced, “Henry, I know she's my sister, but...this once I'll encourage you to kiss her.” he teased, slapping Henry's shoulder. Everyone sharing in their happiness.
Rolling his eyes, in typical Cavill fashion, Ivan groaned as his parents stood in front of everyone kissing like a couple of teenagers. His uncle shielding his eyes, Ivan giggled loudly. Thanking him for the help. He was bound to have nightmares over that kiss. Gross!
Kal wiggled and bounced on his leash, trying to convince whoever had a hold of him that he could be a good boy. He had spotted a squirrel earlier, on the east side of the house, in his duty of wedding dog, he didn't have a chance to properly investigate.
Around them people clapped, cheering the happy couple as they turned to face their guests, for the first time, as husband and wife. Nell wiped a few more tears away, sniffling. Henry smiled softly, his swiping his thumbs across her cheeks.
“Mum, momma, mum.” Ivan broke their moment, gently tugging at Nell's arm.
“Yes?”
“I love you. And I think you look really pretty. I told dad you looked like a princess, but I don't think he believed me.”
“I didn't say that.” Henry rolled his eyes, taking Nell's hand to step forward to join the guests waiting to mingle and personally congratulate the couple.
“You two are something else.” Laughing, Nell snagged Ivan gently pulling him into a hug. Kissing the top of his head, he was nearly as tall as her. Catching her mother's eye, she smiled, “I think they're waiting for us.”
“Do we have to take photos?” Ivan groaned, walking beside his parents, glancing around to see where Kal had gone off to. As best man his duty was to see his dad didn't freak out and to keep Kal out of trouble.
“Only a few, then we're having lunch and you are free to do whatever you want, for the day.” Nell instructed. “It won't be that bad. We're taking some photos here, so we don't even have to leave.”
She had opted to do as much as she could at their house, the property allowed for space to set up and still have room to wander off a little. If one didn't want to be directly in the crowd, they were welcome to take a walk around the few paddocks and wander down the small lane.
This was certainly not the lavish and large wedding that one would expect from a well known celebrity. Henry had snorted and groaned when Nell had informed him, a few days ago, that people were speculating about their upcoming wedding. The only people who mattered were those invited, as far as Henry was concerned. They had made a proper announcement about their engagement a few weeks ago, although their family and friends had known days after they had initially discussed it.
“Don't forget, tomorrow morning Bridie and Joe are coming round to take you for the afternoon.” Henry chose now to remind his son of his former Nanny's visit. “And you owe Sophie a dance.”
“I won't forget.” Ivan had been waiting weeks to see his friends from his former life in Ireland. He had marked off the days on a calendar in his room, even. He was excited not only for a party, but to see those he missed and didn't often see with his parents' work schedule.
“And you, Mrs. Cavill.” Henry winked, “Need to be ready by noon, tomorrow.”
“I will be, but I wish you'd tell me where we were going.” Nell pouted.
Henry had set up a four day escape to Rome, since they would be traveling for The Witcher press in a couple of weeks the honeymoon would be short. They had agreed to take Ivan along for the press tour, spending a few weeks together as a family. Between interviews and appearances. Easier said than done. But Henry wanted them with him, it would be nice to retire to a hotel room and have his family.
“Sorry, no can do. But I have things packed for you, Sadie helped me. I will tell you this, you're going to love it.” He kissed the back of her hand.
“Fine,” Nell sighed. “Since you're not going to tell me, shall we go around to the front and find the photographer? Before our mothers come over here.”
More than once, she had spotted their mothers watching, allowing them a few moments alone as husband and wife. Yet, keeping track of time.
“You're right, let's go around.”
The Cavill and Stewart clan were vast. Multiple siblings, spouses, and children. Trying to wrangle everyone, Kal included, into one or two large group photos had been a task. Nell was glad that the photographer was gracious and understanding. Attempting to get that many people in a space and all looking the same direction, succeeding in the second try – miracle or possibly witch craft. Nell wasn't sure, but she was in awe.
Henry's favourite photos would no doubt be the ones of his own little family. The three – four with Kal – of them together, happy and content. Nell sighed and shook her head, when Henry and Ivan went about their usual antics. Nobody else was bound to have a photo of their husband with their son thrown over his shoulder, while their giant dog jumped up trying to get in on the playfulness.
After photos and lunch, as promised, Nell gave Ivan the go ahead to do as he pleased. As long as he didn't retreat to the den and spend all day playing video games with his cousins. He had to still be around, if needed for more wedding activities. Like watching people Ooh and Awe over silly things. Did that many people need to cry over his parents dancing? His dad often looked like a wounded duck, although it never stopped him. Ivan could watch his parents dance to that nauseating Thomas Rhett song any time. His dad said it perfectly described how he felt about his life.
Whatever.  After his dance with Sophie, who he was gaining height on, he disappeared with a couple of Henry's nephews and Kal. As long as they didn't set anything on fire, they were allowed to roam and play on the property.
After a dance or two, Henry and Nell agreed to split ways for the moment. Mingling and enjoying their guests. It would be rude of them not to engage. Taking a little break, Nell stood at the back of the garden, enjoying the last bit of warmth from the day before the cool evening set in. She'd hugged, kissed, and thanked so many people that her head was beginning to swim a little.
“Has anyone told you that you look an absolute vision,” Nell's older sister, Sadie, approached extending her arms and embracing her little sister, kissing her cheek.
“I have heard that a time or two, but I think they were only saying it to be polite.” Nell winked and laughed. Gently fanning herself with her hand, it was far from warm outside, but the commotion was enough to make anyone sweat a little. Fanning herself, she blew out a breath, her cheeks hurting from all of the smiling. How could she not? If there was ever a day to walk around with a perma-smile, it was today.
“Let me guess, Hen can't stop complimenting you.” Sadie teased.
“He's said it a few times, too.” Winking, Nell beamed.
“You know, Nelly,  I'm just happy that you are happy. Cliche, yes, but as your big sister that is my job.” Squeezing her sister's hand, Sadie smiled fondly “It hasn't been easy, but what good romance is?”
“Looking back, I think we had to grow and excuse the corny, if it's yours then you need to let it go.” Nell shrugged, stealing a quick glance at Henry across the garden. Standing with one of their guests, chatting happily. “Had we not been apart, I don't think I would have realized or appreciated how much I need him. Or how much I love him.”
Henry had asked her to marry him several times in the past, getting shot down each and every one. Looking back, had she agreed, surely they would have been facing divorce by now. At the very least angry and bitter with one another, trapped in a loveless marriage with kids they resented as much as they did one another.
Life worked out for a reason.
“Sweetie,” Sadie hugged her sister, holding her tightly. “I'm so glad this worked out, because honestly, I can't think of anyone better for you. He loves you, so much.”
Hugging her sister tightly, Nell sniffled, trying to hold back another flood of emotions. Thankful, when she heard Henry gently clearing his throat, asking to steal his bride away for a moment. Hugging him as tightly as she did Nell; Sadie smiled waving them along.
“So, Mr. Cavill, what's the urgent task?” Nell linked her arm in his, leaning her head on his shoulder.
“Don't be mad,” Henry smirked, glancing around, nobody seemed to notice them escaping. “I wanted to have a moment with my wife, nobody else around.” He chuckled when Nell looked up, she'd been following his footsteps allowing him to lead her.
Around the other side of the garden, she giggled and hugged his arm tightly. “You rascal. Leading me astray, well I'll be.” She joked.
“I love you,” He whispered, kissing her temple.
“I love you, too.” Nell smiled, leaning into him. “So, this is it huh? Married life?”
“It looks like,” Henry beamed.
“I'm glad you accepted my proposal. Despite how awkward it was.”
“I would have been crazy not to, my darling.” Kissing her softly, Henry sighed happily. “I feel as though we've barely seen one another today. Would it be rude to say good night and sneak upstairs?”
An advantage and disadvantage to spending their wedding night at home. They could call it an evening anytime they wanted, but then it felt forced and rude. As if demanding guests to leave, which is not what they had intended. Nell had made it very clear that she wanted people to stay and enjoy, having car service to take people wherever they needed to go after.
“It's only 7pm.” Nell smiled, leaning into Henry, shivering slightly. “Do you really want to go in?”
Smiling mischievously, Henry wrinkled his nose. “Maybe? Is it wrong that this is our wedding night, but all I can think about is going to bed and snuggling with you?”
“Snuggling?”
“Among doing other things.”
“Ah, yes. Of course.” Glancing around, Nell furrowed her brow. A few spots had fresh dirt and Kal tracks. “Have you seen Kal lately?”
“He was with mum and Simon.”
“Hmm, well before we do anything tomorrow. We need to fix these flower beds. Someone found another squirrel it seems.”
Laughing, Henry looked at Nell for a moment, a sly smirk playing on his lips. “You are something else, my darling wife.”
“What? The dog tore apart my garden, I can't leave here with them looking like...”
“Nell, we can worry about that tomorrow. I can have Ivan and dad fix them, if you want. Or we can hire someone. I can't allow you to spend the morning of your honeymoon gardening. Which, by the way, I think we should discuss.”
“That top secret honeymoon? Are you going to tell me where we're going?”
Henry shook his head. “No, but I will tell you that it's been a while since we've been there, together,” Nell frowned. That could be just about anywhere. “We land and check in, then I have dinner reservations. The next morning, late morning, because I intend to keep you in the room as long as possible.” He bit hit bottom lip, “I have made us a booking for a couple's massages and then...”
“You have this all planned don't you?” Henry nodded, Nell winked, “what if I don't want a massage? What if I want to stay in our hotel the entire time and...”
“But we did that last time, this time...” Henry paused, eyes wide. Shit.
“Are you taking me to Rome?”
“I didn't say that.”
“You didn't have to. I think you gave it away pretty well. The only other place we've stayed in a hotel the entire time was the second trip to Jersey. Unless we're honeymooning in Jersey. Which if we are, I am fine with that, but Rome? Oh my god, Henry! Ugh, I love you! I love you. I love you! That is the perfect honeymoon.” Nell bounced eagerly, and she wondered where Ivan got it.
“I suppose you would have found out at the airport, anyway.” He teased, “So? You really like it?”
“Oh my god, of course! Henry! This is amazing. I could not have picked a better place.” She flung her arms around his neck, kissing him softly. “You are a fantastic husband. Have I told you that, today?”
“I don't know that I am as fantastic as my wife, but I certainly try.”
Take Us Home – Alan Doyle, is the song I had in mind for Nell’s entrance 
Blessed - Thomas Rhett is their first dance 
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sukirichi · 2 years
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Sukiiii here’s layk my part two-ish well something of the sort HAHAHAHA
How are yaaa?? Fine and well, I hope since people, family and friends are getting sick here—left and right, btw You play genshin? I PLAY GENSHIN TOO!! Yes Asia server, Imma send u my UID tmrw since Im alr lying down as I type this HAHAHAHA okay setting that aside
OKAY I’VE FINALLY CAUGHT UP and Read both chapter two and three and Prince Kiyoomi 🥰🥰🥰🥰 OKAY BUT I LOVE HOW each prince have their own secret/problem. Just waiting for Akaashi’s and Ushijima’s 🤭🤭🤭🤭 but alas to be Airi in your story rn ahahahaha—:”D screw being a lady of a high status lemme be a maid who falls for Prince Kita and have a forbidden love story 😍😍😍😍 HAHAHAHA
I mean Kiyoomi, I love you but Shinsuke, I love more HAHAHAHAHA okay but can we talk about why an arranged marriage usually happens and why a girl (yeah cursing her will take too much and the other readers are alr doing it HAHAHAHAHA) like Iris is married to Kiyoomi whom she doesn’t deserve btw—I smell a scandal that can disrupt the not so peaceful royal family even more. I alr have my theories and suspicions but Imma keep them at bay first and read a few more chapters or atleast before the reason is revealed.
OKEI THEN Do I see a sprout or a Seed Planted for YN’s Char. Development at Chapter 3? Like when she smiled and Suna couldn’t read it, is that a sign or like a foreshadowing of her slowly just slowly like superr slowly growing—It’s too early-ish for an actual growth but I smell a foreshadow or a little sprout but at this point I think Im just sprouting nonesense—haha—get it? Lame? Yeah ik but I still laugh HAHAHAHA
I have no words for suna—laykkkk—nada, it’s just too much rage and whatnot cuz laykk—Oh so you’re just gonna promise to care for YN in exchange for using her and breaking her heart??? Ano yon pang palubag-loob kay YN?.? (To Make her feel better in English to anyone else actually interested in reading this long ass ask)
I feel bad for Princess Maiko though—she reminds me of the main character of Empress Ki except she isn’t a maid nor does she lose her fam (Idk if she gonna grow but hey Im rooting for her just don’t do anything stupid to help and plot to hurt YN or else screw u HAHAHAHA) and as the saying goes (Honestly idk I prolly just made it up) “The Royal Harem/Family is not for weak-willed/hearted or for the innocent, else you suffer” and Princess Maiko is layk the living example of this
BUT I DO NOT feel anything LIKE NOTHING at all—not a single shred or an ounce of sympathy for Iris—no girl and when you said we’re gonna hate her more? Let me guess—she does one of these or all of these; annoy YN or embarrass YN or taunt or even take Suna away or well fk him during their honeymoon (wouldn’t be surprised—Im sure Suna will find some stupid excuse to disappear anyways)
OKAY THAT is all for this super duper long ask—Always stay safe and keep urself healthy, hydrated well fed and well rested!! amd ofc always Take Careee!!
With lots of love,
-🎧
HEADPHONES ANON AHSJKA I WAS GONNA ANSWER THIS A WHILE BACK BUT IM SORRY I REPLIED LATE :<< also, yes, I’m fine! lots of family friends here are also getting sick, but thankfully I’m safe from covid rn and I hope you are too! YES BESTIE I PLAY GENSHIN DROP YOUR UID LET’S GO PLAY! I’m excited to play with you omg (but heads up that I’m not great at it, I’m a newbie and I might be slower in keeping up. aka I get lost a lot and my game loves to glitch and freeze so it’s a fun experience to coop with me <33)
YES TO BE AIRI. IMAGINE BEING THE BEST PRINCE’S LOVE OF HIS LIFE. LIKE WOW. how to be airi rn. and hmm yes, there’s definitely…something behind Kiyoomi and Iris’ marriage that’ll be revealed soon. also theories? yes yes, I’m listening if you ever wanna share! HELP THE SPROUTING NONSENSE PUN AHSJAA but yeah, it’s foreshadowing! I agree it’s too early to make her grow that fast and at this rate, like I’m going to break her completely first, and we’re not at the stage yet where she totally breaks down. but yeah, the part about her smiling and rintaro not knowing what it means, it was foreshadowing that she’s getting better at hiding her feelings…and mayhaps even being manipulative towards rintaro… omg yeah, pampalubag loob for YN like no thank you, Rintaro. but at the same time, the truth hurts a lot, I kind of understand why we stick to the great fantasy even if it’s a lie. YN hurts less when she just lets herself be happy in his arms and decide to overlook the fact he has someone else in his heart sobs
oooh for Iris being more hateable in the future, you guys will definitely just what she does! or more like, what is rintaro gonna do that involves iris. HEHEHEH. omg take care too, have a nice day / night <33
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plus-size-reader · 3 years
Text
Never Measure Up
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Sokka x Plus size!reader
Word Count: 1588 words
Warnings: none 
Summary: Entering into an arranged marriage with Sokka
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The water tribes were very traditional.
Everything was done under strict rules and guidelines, operating within all those old traditions that you had never really fully understood. They had remained unchanged for many years, and there was no exception to that.
You were no exception.
It was tradition, and traditions were not to be broken, no matter what. It didn't matter what you tried to do, or who you talked to, there was nothing that could be done to change what was happening.
You, being the second born princess of the Northern Water Tribe, had certain duties that you couldn’t ignore. The chief of those was to do whatever Chief Arnook, your father, to you to do. Usually, that was something that didn't bother you in the slightest.
However, when you heard what he wanted you to do at this particular time, you were much more likely to comply than usual. It was bad enough that Yue had decided to take the place of the moon spirit, but now he wanted to send you away from your home, married to some stranger?
It was crazy.
All you wanted to do was live your life, as intended, without a husband from the southern water tribe. It stressed you out, but the worst part was that you physically couldn't argue with him. If he wanted you to get married, you had to do so.
“Father, I need to stay here, now more than ever” you tried, clutching the dark fabric of your skirt as you pleaded with him. You knew your pleas were falling on deaf ears, but you had to try.
An engagement was hardly something you had been expecting when he said that he wanted to speak with you.
“Nonsense, this is the perfect time to form more steady bonds in the south. We cannot afford to squander such an opportunity” he repeated, saying the same thing he’d been saying for the last few hours.
He didn’t have much more of a reason, it would seem.
Not that he needed one.
Still, how could he expect you to just enter into something like this quietly? You knew it would come eventually, but you had always assumed there would be some kind of negotiation if this day did come.
You should have known better.
“I need you to do this for me, daughter. It’s important for the future of our people” he announced, his voice bellowing as always. There was an element of loss in his tone, telling you just how desperate he was for this to work.
Unity was the only way the other nations had any chance of beating the fire nation, and keeping the water tribes together was imperative to any success. Alone, you couldn't do anything, but together, you had a chance.
As much as you hated it, you knew that it was the truth.
“You’re right father” you conceded finally, turning on your heels to leave before you could change your mind. You knew that whatever you had to say, it wasn't going to change anything. You just needed to have some time alone.
He had a point, of course, as he often did but this had all been so much easier when Yue was around. She was older than you, and had borne the burden of that title for as long as you could remember.
You weren't prepared to have to take this on, and now it was all happening so fast. Now that it was all on you, it was so much more difficult to navigate. Until this point, you had never even thought about having to get married. That was always the path laid out for Yue, who had always been the fairer of the two of you.
...At least as far as you were concerned.
She was stunningly beautiful, and mannerly. She was everything that you had ever wanted to be, and now that you had to take her place, you weren’t sure if you could live up to that.
What if the man you would marry didn’t want to have you? What if he was disgusted by you? What would become of your people then, if he rejected the proposal.
You couldn’t handle letting everyone down.
It was your job to make sure that nothing ever went bad, to make sure that your people were taken care of and safe. If the best way to do that was to marry some stranger from the other side of the world, that was just what you were going to have to do.
So, you agreed to what your father suggested and showed up to the meeting place he arranged with Sokka and his tribe. It wasn't a fool proof process, but the tradition had never led the people astray so they trusted it.
As murky as it may have been, the entire thing was very by the books and as strange as it was, it brought you some kind of comfort. It wasn't super emotional, and took all the anxiety out of the entire process of getting engaged.
If nothing else, it was much less messy than a more freeform proposal.
Still, you could hardly contain your nerves as you walked toward that room. You knew that behind those doors was whatever semblance of future was waiting for you, and the unknown was the worst part of that.
You had no idea what to expect, and you wouldn't until you went in. That was the only thing that you could do, and until you did, you would remain completely in the dark. Nothing was going to change that.
Luckily, before you could stress yourself out too bad over it, the doors opened and you found yourself in the company of someone you recognized. Before this moment, you had no idea who you were going to marry, but you never could have imagined this.
The man you were going to call your husband had been in love with your perfect sister and as relieved as you were that he wasn't a complete stranger, you almost wished he was. At least if you'd never met before, there would be no expectations of you.
Sokka had cared deeply for your sister, and that only increased the stress on you to make sure that the marriage went off without a hitch, and that you could live up to the image Yue'd had in life.
In this moment, it was worse than you could have ever imagined but like everything, you knew that you just had to grin and bare it until it was over. That was all you could do, however, there was really no 'over' at all.
Whatever happened here, this was going to be the rest of your life.
"Hello daughter" your father started, already sitting in the room with Sokka, having been discussing the terms of their deal which he'd already outlined with the other tribe. This had been in the works for a long time, and that was even more of a problem for you.
If this did fall through, people not only in your own tribe, but the southern water tribe would be affected. This was so much bigger than the two of you.
You didn't bother to speak, instead taking your seat beside him. You had never been engaged before, but you knew how these things worked. You had been present for Yue's engagement, for example, and you had the basics down.
"As I'm sure you're aware, your union will do great things for both tribes, as is your duty by birth" he continued, not really looking for any kind of acceptance or reaction from either of you. He just wanted to make sure that this was done the right way.
...And it would be.
Every engagement in these tribes went off without a hitch, with very few exceptions, and  you knew that yours would be no different. All you had to do was sit back and allow everyone else to take care of the details.
It wasn't in your nature, but at this point, you'd come to terms with it. This was what you had to do for the greater good, just as Yue had made her sacrifice for the greater good as well. Everyone had a purpose and this union was potentially yours.
The conversation wrapped up naturally, your father finishing his spiel and taking his leave. It left you and Sokka in the same space, not a work between either of you. You had no idea what to say, but luckily, that was something you had in common.
"So, we're going to get married" he decided, shocking you with the casualness of his statement. It was true, and you knew that but you had yet to hear it spoken aloud until this moment and that was blatant.
Still, you forced a smile.
It wasn't that you didn't like Sokka, or that there was anything wrong with him, you just knew that the feelings he'd had for your sister were never going to go away and you couldn't be Yue. You were never going to be Yue.
"Yes, it appears that we are" you agreed. The two of you sat in silence for a few more moments, not a word shared between you. However, before the pressure became too much, Sokka stood from where he was and made his way over to you.
Wordlessly, he sat down your betrothal necklace, a handmade carving hanging from the center and walking out. That was it, that was the missing piece, and now there was no running away from the truth.
You were going to get married.
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royalpain16 · 3 years
Text
A Brief History of Princess Diana’s Fiery Family
HADLEY HALL MEARES
JUNE 29, 2021 4:04 PM
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According to Tina Brown’s The Diana Chronicles. Indeed, the role of the aristocratic family of Diana, Princess of Wales, for centuries has been that of royal disrupter. This legacy stretches to the 14th century, with their disputed ancestor Hugh Despenser’s alleged torrid affair with King Edward II and Despenser’s eventual brutal execution. Clever, charming, and fiery, much like Diana, her ancestors learned how to play the royal game—and then ripped up the rule book.
“Nearly 300 years on, my father would talk about him with an ashamed, resigned chuckle,” Charles, Earl Spencer, writes in The Spencers: A Personal History of an English Family of the mercurial family blackguard Robert Spencer (1641-1702). While the second earl would secure the Spencers’ status as political power players for centuries, he was also “cunning, supple [and] shameless” with “a restless and mischievous temper, a cold heart, and an abject spirt.”
Sunderland’s ascendancy began in the 1670s when he orchestrated King Charles II’s secret pact with England’s traditional enemy, France. Securing large payments from the French king and court for Charles II and himself, Sunderland was rewarded when he was appointed secretary of state.
After double-crossing Charles II’s illegitimate son, the Duke of Monmouth, Sunderland cleverly insinuated himself with new King James II. He converted to Catholicism to appeal to the very Catholic king, and became one of James II’s closest advisers. But the king, though he valued the brilliant man’s diplomatic skills, was fully aware of Sunderland’s duplicity.
James II finally dismissed Sunderland from service in 1688, and he was later exiled. But in December of that year, James II was deposed by the Glorious Revolution, bringing his daughter Mary and her husband, William, Prince of Orange, (with whom Sunderland had conspired) to the throne.
Again in favor, he was rewarded with the post of Lord Chamberlain before retiring from public life in 1697. “Too much cannot be said of his talents,” one historian noted. “Nor too little of his principles.”
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The Boss: Sarah Churchill, Duchess of Marlborough
The daughter of Parliamentarian Richard Jennings and his scandalous wife, Frances, the passionate, brilliant Sarah (1660-1744) started out as a maid of honor in the court of James II. She became the most powerful woman in England, through her magnetic control of the future Queen Anne, a comparative dullard who worshipped her and perhaps became her lover. (You may remember their relationship from the 2018 movie The Favourite, in which Rachel Weisz played Sarah.)
For Sarah, her friendship with Anne was a way to advance her family and her liberal Whig politics, which she shared with her equally powerful husband, the military hero the Duke of Marlborough. “I hated tyranny by nature,” she wrote in one version of her memoir, according to Ophelia Field’s The Favourite: The Life of Sarah Churchill. “I thought mankind was born free, & if Princes were ordained to make their subjects happy; so I had always in me an invincible aversion to slavery, & to flattery.”
In 1700, Sarah arranged the marriage of her distant relation Charles Spencer, the future Third Earl of Sunderland, with her favorite daughter, Anne. Over the next 44 years, she would shape the family fortunes—and gift them with their famed auburn-tinted locks.
According to The Favourite: The Life of Sarah Churchill, with Anne’s accession to the throne in 1702 Sarah reached the peak of her power, racking up virtually every important post in Queen Anne’s suite, dictating cabinet appointments, and encouraging the ire of satirists.
But cracks would soon begin to appear. Queen Anne was naturally inclined to support the royalist Tories and was encouraged in these leanings by a new favorite named Abigail. A vindictive Sarah became a master propagandist, leaking insinuations about their relationship to the press, and allegedly threatening to blackmail Anne over the contents of their highly charged correspondence.
Sarah was finally forced to vacate her royal apartments in 1711, but she was not down for the count. A brilliant businesswoman, she became the richest woman in England, according to Field, controlling her Spencer grandchildren with promises of money and power. Centuries before the modern Diana and Prince Charles wed, Sarah even attempted to marry her favorite granddaughter—Lady Diana Spencer—to the broke Frederick, Prince of Wales, with a promise of 100,000-pound dowry. The plan fell through.
But not all her grandchildren were willing to be manipulated by their formidable matriarch. Sarah claimed her equally tough granddaughter Anne “[deserved] to be burnt,” and she disinherited her grandson Charles, Fifth Earl of Sunderland, which prompted him to write her:
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As for putting me out of your will…I neither expected or desired to be in it. I…assure Your Grace that this is the last time I shall ever trouble you by letter or conversation. I am Your Grace’s grandson, Sunderland.
Sarah’s letter back was brutal. “You end that you are my grandson. Which is indeed a very melancholy truth…had you not been my grandson, you would have been in as bad a condition as you deserve to be.” Fitting words from a woman immortalized by Alexander Pope thusly:
Sixty years the World has been her Trade, The wisest Fool much Time has ever made. From loveless youth to unrespected age, No Passion gratify’d except her Rage.
The Star: Georgiana Cavendish, Duchess of Devonshire
From the start there was something special about Georgiana (1757-1806), the coddled daughter of John, First Earl Spencer and his wife, Margaret. The captivating teenager married the sophisticated William, Duke of Devonshire, in 1774, and quickly became a sensation in London’s highest circles. “[The Duchess of Devonshire] effaces all,” Horace Walpole wrote, according to The Devonshires: The Story of a Family and a Nation. “Her youth, figure, flowing good nature, sense…and modest familiarity, make her a phenomenon.”
Georgiana soon found her cold, older husband was not nearly as interested in her as everyone else. Luckily, she had many talents with which to amuse herself. She set fashions of the day, developed her own haughty way of speaking, known as the “Cavendish drawl,” and became dear friends with Marie Antoinette, according to Amanda Foreman’s The Duchess. She was also a successful novelist, and an amateur scientist.
But it was Georgiana’s brilliance as a Whig operative that would turn her into a target of the press. Constantly brainstorming with her friend, George, Prince of Wales, and political soulmate Charles James Fox, she hosted countless summits at her home. Georgiana was, she later wrote, “in the midst of the action,” seeing
“partys rise and fall—friends be united and disunited—the ties of love give way to caprice, to interest, and to vanity…”
Georgiana also worked essentially as a campaign manager for Whig candidates. During the 1784 election she bravely canvassed the street for Fox, charming Londoners with her common touch. “During her canvass,” Walpole wrote, “the Duchess made no scruple of visiting some of the humblest of electors, dazzling and enchanting them by the fascination of her manner, the power of her beauty and the influence of her high rank.”
According to Foreman’s The Duchess, there were rumors Georgiana kissed men in exchange for votes, leading to scurrilous cartoons distributed by the Tory opposition. “You have almost unavoidably amassed a great deal of useless trash—gathered weeds instead of flowers,” Lady Spencer wrote Georgiana. “You live so constantly in public you cannot live for your own soul.”
Her mother was worried about more than bad press. The hard-partying Georgiana was one of a long line of Spencer gambling addicts. She also had a laudanum dependency, and a scandalous ménage à trois arrangement with her husband and the disreputable Bess Foster. Calamity struck in 1792, when Georgiana became pregnant by the future Prime Minister Charles Grey and was banished from the country for a while.
Georgiana returned to her husband and children two years later. For the remainder of her life she battled ill health, but continued her role as a political operative, aware of what she could have been. “Would I were a man,” she mused to Sir Philip Francis. “To unite my talents, my hopes, my fortune, with [Charles James Fox’s], to make common cause, and fall or rule.”
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From the start, the Spencer legacy laid heavily on John Spencer’s (1924-1992)
shoulders. As a child he was constantly cowed by his genealogically obsessed, brutal father, who considered him an intellectual lightweight. “He used to dread the train journey home [from boarding school],” his son, Diana’s brother Charles, writes. “He would hide in shadows of the train carriage, hoping his father had forgotten to collect him.”
But by the 1940s, John’s heroism as a captain in the Royal Scots Greys during World War II, and his tall, good looks and simple charm made him a most eligible bachelor. According to the documentary When the Spencers Met the Monarchy, he was even once looked at by the palace as a suitor to the future Queen Elizabeth II.
Instead, in 1954, Queen Elizabeth II (whom he served as an equerry) attended his wedding to heiress Frances Roche at Westminster Abbey. The couple had four children—Sarah, Jane, Diana, and Charles (another son, John, died shortly after birth). They were a mismatched pair, he rather dull and she vivacious, but John was reportedly blindsided when he discovered Frances was cheating on him. “How many of those years were happy?” he later said of his marriage. “I thought all of them until the moment that we parted.”
After the dissolution of his marriage, John became Diana and Charles’s primary caregiver and developed what Lord Glenconner once termed “an unfortunate raw sausage look.” Although he was stiff and old-fashioned, he attempted to be an involved father, and Diana was determined to be his “comforting angel,” according to The Diana Chronicles.
In 1975, John’s fortunes turned when his curmudgeonly father died, making him the Eighth Earl Spencer. According to Andrew Morton, he also inherited a 2.25-million-pound bill for death duties as well as 80,000-pounds-a-year running costs for Althorp, the family estate in Northamptonshire. He also found a helpmate to run Althorp in the fascinating Raine, Countess of Dartmouth, whom he married in 1976 without even telling his children. “We weren’t invited. ‘Not grand enough,’” his daughter Sarah quipped to a reporter at the time.
Despite the flippant tone, John’s betrayal would cause a deep rift in the family. A severe stroke in 1978 caused him to become frail and even more distant from his children. “He was one person before and he was certainly a different person after,” Princess Diana said, according to Morton. “He’s remained estranged but adoring since. If he comes and sees me he comes and sees me, if he doesn’t he doesn’t. It’s not my problem anymore. It’s his.”
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The Rebel: Frances Shand Kydd
Frances Ruth Roche (1936-2004) wasn’t from as noble stock as the Spencers, but her family was far richer. Her father Maurice, fourth Baron Fermoy, was a conservative politician and a “terrible bottom pincher,” Lady Glenconner says in The Diana Chronicles, while her wealthy mother, Ruth, was a scheming, incurable snob and great friend of Elizabeth, the Queen Mother.
It was Ruth who encouraged a teenage Frances to marry the much older John Spencer, despite her tender age. “When you meet someone at the age of 15 and get engaged just five months out of school at 17, you can look back and ask, ‘Was I adult?’” she asked years later. “I sure thought I was at the time.”
The couple cultivated a farm at her family home of Park House in Norfolk, but Frances was quickly disillusioned with life in the country as a young aristocratic mother. “I’m so bloody bored with opening village fetes,” she told a friend. It was no wonder that the fiery Frances wanted more. “She was very attractive and blonde and sexy with such joie de vivre and fun about her,” a friend told Brown, author of The Diana Chronicles.
By the 1960s, Frances escaped to London more and more. She also started having an affair with a married bon vivant named Peter Shand Kydd. In 1967, she separated from John and left her two youngest children with him. “The biggest disruption was when Mummy decided to leg it. That’s the vivid memory we have—the four of us,” Princess Diana later told Andrew Morton.
Frances fought for custody of the children but lost to John, partially due to her own mother, Baroness Fermoy, who testified against her. Social outcasts, the Shand Kydds eventually moved to the coast of Scotland, and their warm household was a refuge for her children when they were allowed to visit. “Diana and I adored it for its wild beauty and the fun we had on the sea, lobster potting and mackerel-fishing,” Charles Spencer recalls.
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Frances counseled against her youngest daughter’s marriage to Prince Charles, seeing too many parallels to her own first marriage—including her mother’s encouragement of the match. According to Brown, after voicing her concerns, Diana said, “Mummy, you don’t understand. I love him.” Frances replied, “Love him, or love what he is?” To which Diana asked rhetorically, “What’s the difference?”
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The Grande Dames: Barbara Cartland and Raine Spencer
Perhaps no writer influenced generations of British romantics—including Princess Diana—more than Barbara Cartland (1901-2000). The author of 723 books, Cartland had, in the words of Brown, a “penchant for pink, her meringue coiffure and false eyelashes,” which betrayed a steely, snobbish character that was tough as nails.
Cartland would pass both her strength and outrageousness on to her daughter Raine (1929-2016), whom she raised to be, in Brown’s words, a “social monster baby.” Not only did she nab Gerald Legge, Ninth Earl of Dartmouth, but she also forged a career as a conservative politician, becoming the youngest person to ever serve on the Westminster City Council.
“She never took any prisoners, and never took no for an answer,” a friend recalled.
In the early 1970s, Raine set her sights on the divorced John Spencer. “She wanted to marry Daddy; that was her target and that was it,” Princess Diana recalled. According to sources, “Acid Raine” alienated the children and old friends. She also took the reins of Althorp, allegedly selling off family treasures and decorating it in her and her mother’s garish style.
During the lead-up to Diana’s wedding to Prince Charles in 1981, what to do with the clownish Cartlands became a national conversation. According to Brown:
Alexander Chancellor, the editor of The Spectator, wrote an editorial in which he called for a special Act of Parliament to ban Raine and her mother from St. Paul’s Cathedral, adding, “For it would be more than a little unfair on everybody if these two absurdly theatrical ladies were permitted to turn a moving national celebration into a pantomime.” Diana was so afraid the pantomime might indeed take place, she pressed for stratagems to blackball Cartland.
In the end Raine was invited but her mother was not. This would not be the most awkward Spencer wedding—that prize would go to Charles Spencer’s first wedding in 1989, where Diana scolded Raine for her rudeness to their mother. “If only you knew how much we all hated you for what you’ve done, you’ve ruined the house, you spend Daddy’s money and what for?” she hissed.
For her part, Raine would tire of being the scapegoat for the Spencer dysfunction. “I’m absolutely sick of the ‘wicked stepmother’ lark,” she said, according to Kitty Kelley. “You’re never going to make me sound like a human being, because people like to think I’m Dracula’s mother.”
Surprisingly, Diana would come to agree. Toward the end of her life, she grew close to her stepmother, whose no-nonsense advice she came to admire. However, it appears there was no love lost between Diana and her former favorite writer, who would quip of the royal breakup, “Of course, you know where it all went wrong. She wouldn’t do oral sex.”
The Role Model: Lady Sarah McCorquodale
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Born in 1955, Sarah Spencer was the oldest, and wildest of John and Frances Spencer’s brood. Reckless and salty from an early age, Brown writes that she was kicked out of boarding school and rode her horse into her grandmother’s living room. “Sarah always had to be the best at everything,” a friend recalled. “The best car, the wittiest put-down, and the best dress.”
She also had a constant shadow in her youngest sister, Diana. “I idolized my eldest sister and I used to do all her washing when she came back from school. I packed her suitcase, ran her bath, made her bed—the whole lot. I did it all and I thought it was wonderful,” Diana told Morton.
In 1977, Sarah, who had suffered from anorexia, according to Brown, met Prince Charles at Ascot. The two began dating, and it was Sarah who introduced Diana to the prince during a shooting party at Althorp (“I’m cupid,” she’d later quip). “I remember,” Diana later said, “feeling desperately sorry for him that my sister was wrapped around his neck because she’s quite a tough old thing.”
But Sarah’s romance with the prince would soon end. She made the mistake of talking to reporters. Not only did she reportedly confess to having “thousands of boyfriends,” she also disparaged Charles as a hopeless romantic. “I wouldn’t marry a man I didn’t love, whether it was a dustman or the King of England,” she said. “If he asked me I would turn him down.”
This cardinal sin would cause Sarah to be promptly frozen out, with Charles reportedly informing her, “You’ve just done something extremely stupid.” And so, only three years later Charles would begin to court the blossoming Diana. Perhaps there was a hint of jealousy in her alleged counsel to a despondent Diana to not pull out of the wedding over his relationship with Camilla: “Bad luck, ‘Duch. Your face is on the tea towels so you’re too late to chicken out.”
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shima-draws · 4 years
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FINALLY NEW OC TIME BABEY
The boy is Emrys, a prince from the Mirrorplane who is on the run from his own kingdom! The girl is Lacie, an orphan who was raised by a guild that rescued her from a somewhat abusive/manipulative friendship as a child!
More (incredibly long) info about these kiddos under the cut~
Emrys (or Em for short)
Age: 23
Hair color: Golden orange
Eye color: Red
Element: Lightning
Emrys is from the Mirrorplane, the parallel world to ATS. His kingdom is caught in a huge power struggle between all the other kingdoms, and Emrys’ mother, a queen who only seeks power from others, is leading them straight into ruin. Emrys is destined to receive the Crest of the Crowned, which is basically a huge emblem of power, as soon as he’s officially crowned as the king. Except that the queen plans to utilize the emblem’s power to start a grand war, which. Is not good!! The night Emrys finds this out, he plans to escape the kingdom along with his childhood best friend Lixin, a regular human who’s basically being used as a pawn to be married off to Emrys’ younger sister in order to create powerful elemental children. Yikes! Emrys is also engaged to a princess from another kingdom, but it’s an arranged marriage, and he doesn’t have feelings for her (so there’s another good reason for him to leave). Lixin is caught during his escape, and Emrys leaps to his rescue, but in the scuffle things get tense and he accidentally kills the guards sent after them. Hands stained with blood, Emrys stumbles into a portal leading to the other side of the Mirrorplane.
Emrys decides that he might as well stay there since he doesn’t know how to get home and he probably shouldn’t go home--he’ll be safer here, and this way his mother can’t use him to start a war. This goes alright for a couple months as he adapts to a world that isn’t constantly fighting with each other, until he realizes that his mother somehow sent people to come look for him and capture him so he can be dragged back home. He also hears word that Lixin is in this world as well. Emrys goes on the run, never sticking around one place for long, and tries to search for Lixin along the way. This is when he meets Lacie!
Personality traits
• Has a hard time trusting people in general. Refuses to get close to people in fear of them getting hurt. Because he's on the run and is a target he tries to keep to himself. A very lone wolf type. Doesn't want other people to get dragged into his problems so he tries to handle everything alone
• Very quiet, observant, INCREDIBLY intelligent--gets really absorbed in books when given the chance. One of the few times his facade falls and he gets Soft and passionate is when he's immersed in reading/studying. Loves absorbing knowledge from this world since it’s different from the Mirrorplane
• Makes scathing remarks often. Doesn't get riled up even when people tempt him. Is able to keep a very cool head most of the time. When he does get angry he gets STUBBORN. Refuses to let people try to talk to him or calm him down. Brushes people off and ignores attempts at support
• You know that he trusts you when he teases you or pokes fun at you
• Very wary. Always keeps an eye out for an escape route
• Careful around people. Knows his strength so he tries not to hurt others
• Deep down tho he's utterly selfless, unbelievably loyal to the people he cares about, and is a truly kind and generous person. He would sacrifice anything, even himself, to keep his friends safe, and beats himself up constantly if one of them gets hurt.  Once he learns to open himself up to others he becomes Tender and is able to express himself easier. He's truly a gentle person at heart
• Is awful at romance because he has no experience (even being engaged) and gets flustered easily when it comes to anything with romantic intent. This is like the one thing he has zero confidence in. Lacie usually has to take charge in this department because he’s too hesitant and nervous to figure anything out himself, so he tends to follow her lead, which sometimes leads to disaster but they figure things out one step at a time!
• Was attracted to Lacie immediately but didn’t want to get close to her bc he knew she’d get hurt because of him. WELP
•  Develops a huge guilt complex after Lacie loses her arm
Elemental abilities
Lightning elemental: Uses a thin sword/rapier to fight. Is VERY fast and agile. Usually starts by hitting pressure points and jolting them with electricity to numb the nerves. Doesn’t really like using his lightning directly so he tries to stick to the rapier as often as possible
He’s not a huge fan of fighting so he’d rather avoid conflict if necessary (especially after he killed someone on accident before). However he should not be underestimated in battle--he’s been trained how to fight from a young age so he knows what he’s doing. He uses a lot of tactics and smarts to get himself out of sticky situations
Lacie
Age: 21
Hair color: Gray/silver
Eye color: Brown
Element: Metal
Lacie’s parents died when she was very young, so she was sent to an orphanage shortly after. Her parents were bandits, labeled as outlaws, so a lot of the kids teased her and ostracized her. This caused her to hold a grudge against both them and her parents, even though they’d only resorted to thievery to provide for her and themselves. There was, however, one person who reached out to her there--an older girl named Gwendolyn. Gwen was very standoffish and didn’t care what the other children thought of her. She was the first person to treat Lacie normally, so Lacie grew attached to her. However, Gwen used Lacie and treated her as a tool to do what she wanted, but Lacie, too terrified of losing the only ‘friend’ she had, never spoke up about it. Gwen did care about Lacie, and there was a genuine friendship there, but that was overshadowed of her tendency to manipulate Lacie.
Gwen eventually hatched a plan to escape the orphanage and strike out on their own. Lacie agreed and together they snuck out in the middle of the night. (Sounds familiar? Wow, parallels!) The next day, Gwen tried to steal from a person in town, which ended up being a member of the guild nearby. Gwen managed to get to Lacie before getting caught and shoved the stolen items onto her, making her a target. Lacie realized how awful this was and finally gathered the courage to yell at Gwen. The guild member caught up, saw their interaction, and took Gwen in for questioning. He escorted Lacie to the guild, where she was pretty much adopted by the members.
Lacie grew up with the guild and learned compassion and how to forgive her parents. As an adult she’s a very kind, friendly and confident person. She is still burdened by her past but she tries not to let it get to her. 
Personality traits
• Not the most polite person since she doesn't really have a filter
• VERY curious. Somewhat naive. Asks a lot of bugging questions if she doesn't know something
• Hot-headed and stubborn. Gets riled up easily, but can control herself when she's angry. Argues a lot but isn't fond of it
• In reality, a very kind person who cares for her friends and would do anything to protect her family. Spirited and determined
• Can be kind of silly, especially when she's trying to cheer others up. Emrys finds her amusing and calls her a dork
• A leader type character...one that can take charge of the situation when everybody else is losing their heads
• Willing to step out of her comfort zone and dive into new adventures without hesitation. She lives for the thrill. Is spontaneous and willing to take risks/chances. Drags Emrys into her fun a lot bc he’s so sheltered as a prince lmao
• Self confident on the outside, insecure in reality (a lot of this comes from the emotional abuse she went through as a kid). But not enough that it's crushing--just enough to make her second guess things sometimes, ESPECIALLY when it comes to Emrys because he's a rubix cube of emotions and she's always afraid of overstepping her boundaries--this is only when she finds out more about him tho. She doesn't mind being an ass to him when they first met because he’s kind of a jerk so her first instinct is to lash out at him
• Isn't necessarily a rule breaker until it's brought up, and then she gets excited about doing daring things. Is almost too enthusiastic about it sometimes
Elemental abilities
Metal elemental: Uses throwing knives infused with magic to fight. Being a metal elemental, she’s able to control their trajectory and can toss them around and have them zip right back to her like boomerangs. She mostly uses these to unbalance enemies and strike them hard enough that they get too dizzy to stand. After she loses her arm, she also utilizes the metal it’s made out of to temporarily transform it into usable weapons.
She’s fine with fighting and is hasty enough to throw herself into battle without thinking, but is fine with peace talks most of the time. 
AND NOW onto how these two cuties meet ;)
If it weren’t obvious by now Emrys is a loner and therefore hates guilds and being associated with them. So naturally, after running into Lacie, he treats her with a lot of attitude and snark, which she retaliates against. After Lacie helps him chase off a couple thugs that he stole stolen goods back from (not the people actually chasing him), she somehow coerces him into the guild for a couple days, and he’s unsettled yet warmed by the friendly atmosphere. Emrys eventually admits he has to stick around town for a while to make some money, so Lacie offers to help him out by going out on official guild missions. Emrys is like I don’t need or want your help and she’s like alright fine then try making money on your own, guild missions pay WAY better and you can’t do one without an official member escort. So he’s like. Jesus fine okay I’ll go on the damn mission with you LOL
They go on a couple missions together and start getting close. Emrys is like oh no this is not what I want so he panics and tries to leave town, but Lacie catches up to him and yells him for leaving without saying anything. Unfortunately during this whole mess the trackers sent to follow Emrys find out where he’s hiding. He and Lacie go out on one last goodbye mission together and they get ambushed. They’re horribly outnumbered and even when Emrys resorts to actually fighting his hardest, Lacie gets terribly injured. Emrys manages to fight off the attackers, getting his hair cut off shorter in the process (which is why it’s shorter and in a cute little half bun in the second pic), but Lacie’s losing so much blood at this point--so he stumbles into the closest building in the closest town and GUESS WHO’S IT IS.
YEAH. IT’S THE ROBO FAM!! (Take note that this is like, 2-3 years after they return from the Mirrorplane themselves, so they’re around 25 at this point.)
Elias and Gifre are enjoying a nice evening prosthetic check date when Emrys stumbles into the mechanic shop, covered in Lacie’s blood, and begs for help before passing out. Both of them go OH SHIT and immediately leap to the rescue. As Elias, Gi-bot, Ava and Ignis (who were called in) work on patching up Lacie’s wounds, Elias realizes that her arm is too far gone to be saved. And this is kind of a sad moment for him since you know. He also lost his arm. So he can relate. Ava’s like you’ll just have to make her the best goddamn prosthetic in the world then and he’s like alright yeah, so they have to remove Lacie’s left arm and it’s. Not pretty.
Emrys wakes up several hours later to find that Gifre treated his wounds. When he asks where Lacie is and Gifre shows him, he immediately breaks down, because she got hurt SO badly because of him and this is why he didn’t want to get close to her in the first place. He laments over dragging her into his mess, and Gifre gives him a nice long Pep Talk, coming from a similar situation with dragging Elias into his personal issues with Python’s Blood. It helps a little, but Gifre can tell Em’s gonna be blaming himself for this for a WHILE (hence the guilt complex comment).
As Lacie recovers and gets used to her new prosthetic (and keeps smacking Emrys whenever he looks guilty about it), the two of them become closer despite Emrys’ attempts not to--but Lacie is stubborn and refuses to let him distance himself. They also get really close and bond a lot with the robo fam, having bunked with them for a while. The main part of the story is just these domesticity moments with the robo fam and their two new dysfunctional houseguests LOL
Eventually Emrys does find Lixin and decides to return to the Mirrorplane to sort things out with his mother, and that brings up a whole bunch of crazy drama, but the robo fam and Lacie come with him (and by that point he’s gone Full Tender and leans on them a lot for support so it’s NICE and CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT), so things get sorted out one way or another. There is a point where he and Lacie have a huge fight because Lacie...finds out something about the Mirrorplane that she does not like, and it nearly shatters her entire relationship with Em, so that’s a big oof. But they get it all sorted out and it’s fine. The reason why their fight hurts even worse is because at this point they’re full on in love with each other but are both too awful at romance to actually say anything. They’re stupid and they can’t communicate and I love them
Yes they end up together because *points at self* I’m a hopeless romantic loser. Lacie becomes a princess of the Mirrorplane which is WEIRD as hell to her but she gets used to it. Also they actually don’t stay there, Emrys hands the kingdom over to his younger sister, who’s always been better at handling royal affairs, and comes back to the regular verse with Lacie to live with her there. They get a house in Spinel Town near the robo fam and LIVE HAPPILY EVER AFTER THE END
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