𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍'𝐒 𝐄𝐃𝐆𝐄
╚»★«╝ 𝐁𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐨𝐧 𝐌𝐞𝐧: 𝐒𝐢𝐦𝐨𝐧 x 𝐅𝐞𝐦!𝐒𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 ╚»★«╝
ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: hella angst
🇷🇦🇹🇮🇳🇬: non-explicit
🇵🇴🇻: 2nd person; You/Your
🇩🇪🇸🇨🇷🇮🇵🇹🇮🇴🇳: in which, you find your emotions teetering between rage and the fierce love you harbor for your sibling.
🇼🇴🇷🇩 🇨🇴🇺🇳🇹: 2.8k
🇦/🇳: Had to dive deep into the emotional turmoil for this one! Simon's story really hits a nerve for me and wholeheartedly believe Daphne should have had consequences for what she did, but I digress. Can't wait to hear what y'all think!.
★·.·´🇧🇷🇮🇩🇬🇪🇷🇹🇴🇳 🇲🇦🇸🇹🇪🇷🇱🇮🇸🇹`·.·★
You've lived in luxury your entire life, born into a world where opulence is as common as the air you breathe. Your family, known for its ancient lineage and vast wealth, has always moved in the highest circles of society. The grand estate you call home is a testament to generations of prosperity, its sprawling gardens and ornate architecture speaking of a legacy carefully cultivated over centuries.
From the moment of your birth, your life was set against a backdrop of gilded halls and whispered secrets. Your childhood was a tapestry of private tutors, elegant parties, and summers spent in villas overlooking the sea. Yet, amidst this world of privilege, you always sought something more genuine, something real beyond the facades of high society.
Your father, understanding your thirst for knowledge and your disdain for superficialities, had a special room created just for you. It was designed to be a haven, a place where you could escape the endless politicking and shallow conversations that dominated the rest of the house.
Now, as you sit in this very room, the memory of its creation still vivid in your mind, you're surrounded by the comfort it provides. It's spacious, with high ceilings and a warm, inviting ambiance. The walls are lined with rows upon rows of bookshelves, each filled with volumes collected throughout your life. From classic literature to modern tales, every book holds a story of its own, not just within its pages, but in the memories of when and why it was added to your collection. Some were gifts from distant lands, others were discoveries from your own adventures, each one handpicked and cherished.
In the corner of the room, large bay windows stretch from floor to ceiling, framing a picturesque view of the estate's lush gardens. The windows are designed to capture the day's natural light, casting a soft, serene glow across the room, perfect for reading. Sheer curtains dance gently with the breeze, adding a touch of elegance.
Your rocking chair, an oversized, plush piece, sits in the middle of the room. It's heaped with soft blankets and pillows, creating a nest of comfort. Here, you spend countless hours lost in the worlds within your books, the chair gently swaying to the rhythm of your imagination.
To your left, Kira, your personal maid, is a constant presence. Her Blasian heritage gives her a unique beauty, with reddish-dark auburn hair that cascades in gentle waves down her back. Her light brown eyes are expressive, often reflecting her mood before she even speaks. Her skin is a rich dark brown, sprinkled with freckles that add to her distinctive appearance. Tall and slender, she moves with a grace that belies her underlying strength, and her voice, airy yet slightly scratchy, fills the room with a comforting familiarity.
As she knits you a pair of winter gloves, Kira speaks up, her tone carrying her characteristic brashness mixed with a hint of humor. "You wouldn't believe the latest rumor I heard from the market," she says, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "Apparently, Lady Edith was caught in a rather compromising situation with the Duchess of Wohrmans. It seems high society isn't as prim and proper as they pretend to be."
You can't help but chuckle at her comment, appreciating her candidness and the way she always manages to bring a slice of the outside world into your sheltered life.
"Kira, you do realize that half of these rumors are probably just wild tales, right?" you reply, amused.
Kira looks up from her knitting, a sly smile on her face. "Oh, of course. But it's always fun to speculate, isn't it? Besides, it's the only entertainment we get around here, given how these snobby lords and ladies turn their noses up at everything."
Her brash temperament, so carefully controlled yet so openly shared with you behind closed doors, is a refreshing contrast to the often stifling decorum of high society. Her rants about the various characters you both encounter are a source of much-needed levity in your life. But in truth, Kira is more than just a maid; she's a confidant, fiercely loyal, and the only one who hears your true thoughts about the high society you navigate.
The tranquility is shattered when the doors slam open. You look up, startled, to see Simon, your older brother.
Simon's visits are always a highlight for you, especially given the circumstances of your life. Your father's dying wish was that you reside in the family home until you are eligible to wed. At nearly 19 years old, you are yet to experience the onset of your period, a traditional marker of marriage eligibility in your society. This delay has kept you bound to the family estate, a situation made more bearable by Simon's infrequent but cherished visits.
Ten years your senior, you and Simon share the same father but a different mother. The tragic fate that befell your mother during childbirth mirrored the loss Simon experienced with his own mother, creating a unique bond of understanding and shared loss between you two.
As Simon steps into the room, you can't help but feel a surge of excitement, curious about the latest news and gossip from town. The last you heard, he had attended the 1813 social season hosted by Lady Danbury, a significant event in high society. Simon's experiences in these social whirlwinds often provide you with much-needed connection to the outside world and the intrigues of the upper class.
"Simon!" you exclaim, rising from your chair. "I didn't expect to see you so soon. Tell me everything. How was the social season? Any interesting gossip, brother?"
Simon always had a commanding presence, his handsome features often drawing admiring glances. His skin is a deep, rich brown, a perfect complement to his neatly styled black hair. His eyes, usually bright and full of life, are a striking contrast to his dark complexion. But today, those eyes are different. They're dim, lacking their usual spark, and you notice a wetness behind them that others might miss. This ability to read him so well comes from a lifetime of shared experiences and secrets.
The smile on your face drops as you take in his state. His face is stony, but his eyes betray the turmoil within. Quickly, you gesture for Kira to leave, understanding that whatever Simon is about to share requires privacy. As he approaches, you can't help but feel a knot of worry forming in your stomach, bracing yourself for what's to come.
As she exits, Simon shuffles over, his posture a stark contrast to his usual confident stride.
In almost a whisper, laden with concern, you call out, "Simon… are you alright?"
Suddenly, he breaks down, his sobs echoing through the room. Gently, you pull him into an embrace, offering silent support and feeling his body shake with each sob. "It's okay, Simon. I'm here," you whisper, trying to soothe his anguish.
Tears fill your own eyes as you feel your brother's pain. You've never seen him like this, so vulnerable and broken; a mix of protectiveness and sorrow envelopes your heart.
As his sobs subside, you gently lift his face to meet yours. With a soft handkerchief, you carefully wipe away his tears. "Simon, what's wrong? Did something happen? You're scaring me."
Simon looks at you, a storm of emotions playing across his face as his eyes fill with sorrow. "Before I say anything… please promise me you won't do anything rash."
Perplexed but concerned, you slowly nod. "I promise."
He takes a deep breath. "It's… Daphne." he finally admits, his voice a fragile whisper.
"Daphne?" Your heart skips a beat. "What about her?"
Simon looks away in shame. "She… forced me into… into having a child with her."
Your body goes rigid, your mind racing with shock and anger. "Daphne… she… she what?"
"Y/N…" Simon grips your hands, seeking to ground you, his own trembling. "You promised. Please, just listen."
"Promised!?" Your voice rises in disbelief. "How dare you ask for calm when I've just learned that… that she…"
Simon interjects urgently, "Y/N, please…"
"…raped my brother!?" The words are like venom, filled with fury and disbelief.
Simon flinches at the word, a silent plea in his eyes as tries to calm you, but you're incensed. "It's sickening, Simon! She knew you didn't want children. You told her, and she still…"
"Y/N, I know, I know," Simon's voice cracks. "But please, don't do anything… don't make it worse."
You finally quiet down, the gravity of the situation sinking in. "She doesn't deserve you, Simon. She never did."
Through his tears, Simon begs again, "Please, don't do anything rash."
You give a non-committal response, your mind already racing with thoughts of retribution. Your heart aches at his vulnerability, but your anger towards Daphne burns fiercely. "How can she live with herself after doing this to you?"
Simon shakes his head, lost in his own turmoil. "I don't know. I just… I need some time to think."
Realizing he needs comfort more than anything, you soften. "Alright, Simon. Let's just… let's just sit for a while."
You call for Kira, giving her a specific look that she immediately understands. "Bring us the Night's Whisper tea, please."
Kira nods, aware of the tea's purpose. Night's Whisper is a special blend you created for your insomnia, known only to you and Kira. As she leaves to prepare the tea, you turn to Simon, who sits beside you, his frame shaking slightly from the weight of his emotions.
"Simon," you begin softly, your voice barely above a whisper. "It's always been you comforting me… It feels strange, being on this side."
Simon offers a weak smile, a ghost of his usual charm. "Yeah, roles reversed, huh?"
You sit together in silence, the weight of the moment pressing down on you. When Kira returns with the tea, the delicate aroma of Night's Whisper fills the room, offering a brief respite from the heaviness of your conversation.
As you both sip the tea, you gently probe, "Simon, tell me… how did it all start? That night with Daphne?"
He takes a deep breath, his voice a wistful whisper. "It was a normal night, just like any other. We were both getting ready for bed, the house quiet around us…"
Simon's words transport you to that night, his narrative painting a vivid picture. "I remember the coolness of the sheets, the dim light from the hallway spilling into the room. We talked a bit, just mundane things… nothing out of the ordinary…" The story unfolds, each word heavy with regret and betrayal. Simon's normally animated face is now a mask of sorrow. You reach out, placing a comforting hand over his.
The tea works its subtle magic, and Simon's eyelids begin to droop, offering him the peace and safety he so desperately needs. You need more to feel drowsy, but for Simon, it's enough to gently lull him into a peaceful sleep in the comfort of your chair. You sit with him, a silent guardian, as he drifts into a much-needed sleep.
As Simon rests, you sit beside him, a mix of emotions swirling within you. Your mind is set on protecting your brother, no matter the cost. Sitting up, you press a tender kiss on his forehead. Turning to Kira, your voice is firm, "Get my horse ready. I need to go."
As you ride your favorite horse, the wind whips through your unraveling braids, your focus laser-sharp on reaching Simon's home. You care little for the dirt staining your clothes or the disarray of your hair; all that matters is confronting Daphne.
Arriving at the house, you bypass the maid, your steps resolute and swift. Daphne is in the common room, surrounded by her friend, Penelope, and another highborn lady. She's elegantly dressed, her light skin contrasting with her strawberry-blonde hair, styled impeccably. Her face, usually composed and serene, is animated as she speaks of a hopeful pregnancy.
You've only heard of Daphne through gossip and Simon's reluctant admissions of their arrangement. An arrangement that now reveals its ugly truth.
With swift strides, you approach her and, without a word, call her a "harlot," your hand connecting sharply with her cheek. The sound echoes in the room, drawing gasps.
Daphne recoils, her hand flying to her face in shock. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" she exclaims, her voice a mixture of anger and confusion.
"You know exactly why I'm here, Daphne," you say coldly, your voice laced with barely contained rage.
Her confusion deepens. "I have no idea what you're talking about. How dare you assault me in my own home?"
"You've done far worse in this very house," you retort sharply. "What you did to Simon…"
Daphne's expression shifts as realization dawns. "Oh, this is about Simon?" she says with a sneer. "He lied to me. He said he couldn't have children."
You can't believe what you're hearing. "He never said he couldn't. He said he wouldn't. There's a difference, Daphne. Still, a misunderstanding on your part doesn't justify what you did."
Her defiance is palpable. "I did what was right. He needed to continue his lineage. It's what anyone in our position would do."
"Please! Don't lump me with the likes of you!" You hiss out in distaste, your anger boiling over. "You had no right to take advantage of him! If you were confused, you should have talked to him, not… not violate his trust and his body!"
Penelope and the other woman watch in stunned silence, the tension in the room thick enough to cut with a knife.
"You're twisting the situation," Daphne argues, attempting to regain her composure. "Simon is my husband. It's my duty to—"
"Duty?" you cut her off, stepping closer, towering over her. "Your duty doesn't include rape, Daphne."
She tries to meet your gaze, but there's a flicker of uncertainty in her eyes. "R-Rape? You're overreacting. It's not like...not like—"
"Not like what?" you snap, grabbing her chin firmly, forcing her to look into your eyes. "Not like betrayal? Not like a violation of the deepest kind?"
Daphne's eyes widen as she gazes into yours, and for a moment, she sees Simon in you—the same eyes, the same intensity. The resemblance is uncanny, and it shakes her, the reality of her actions hitting her.
"Stay away from my brother," you command, your voice low and dangerous. "I'm serious, Daphne. If you ever try to come near him, or even attempt to justify your heinous crime one more time, you'll have to deal with me. And to the gods above, that's a threat you don't want to test."
Releasing Daphne's chin, you straighten up, your gaze sharp and unyielding. The room, once filled with the light-hearted chatter of high society, is now heavy with the weight of unsaid truths and unveiled secrets. Daphne sits there, her face a mix of shock and realization, finally understanding the depth of her transgressions.
You quickly smooth out your dress, restoring some semblance of poise to your disheveled appearance. Turning towards the other women in the room, you lock eyes with Penelope Featherington, her face a picture of shock and fascination. Beside her sits Lady Clarissa, a minor yet prominent figure in your social circle, known for her penchant for gossip and extravagant hats.
With a flourish of mock politeness, you offer them a sweet, yet blatantly sarcastic smile. "Ladies," you say, your voice laced with faux cheerfulness, echoing with underlying scorn.
Executing a curtsey with exaggerated grace, the irony of the gesture hangs heavy in the air. Penelope, the voice behind Lady Whistledown, seems at a loss for words, her usual knack for capturing society's secrets momentarily stilled. Lady Clarissa, on the other hand, looks utterly bewildered, her eyes darting between you and Daphne, trying to grasp the full scope of the scandal unfolding before her.
Straightening up, you hold their stunned gazes for a moment, letting the impact of your actions resonate. Then, without another word, you turn on your heel and stride out of the room. Each step is measured and deliberate, echoing with the resolve of someone who has just fiercely defended a loved one.
As you leave, the room remains in stunned silence, the ladies left to ponder the events that just unfolded. Your heart is heavy with the burden of what you had to do, but it's buoyed by the knowledge that you've done what was necessary to protect Simon. The walls of the grand house seem to close in on you as you make your way out, the echoes of high society's hollow pretenses fading behind you.
lololo i hope you guys enjoyed, my bby simon deserved more frfr 🥹❤️❤️
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red, white, and royal blue fanfic rec (part 3)
other rwrb fic recs here
personal favorites are starred, by the way.
everything is complete unless stated otherwise.
the too much that you aren't by DemonPoxHerondale (~2k)
Henry has always been an introvert. High energy situations can get overwhelming, and as much as he loves his boyfriend, it's impossible to deny that he's high energy. Back when they were sneaking around to see each other, the short bursts of interaction meant that they never really clashed. But now that they're living together, well, it's another story.
as an introvert, i get it
champagne problems by alec_rhee (~3k)
Henry’s eyes are otherwise occupied as he closes them, planting a kiss to Alex’s head, but Alex sees Benjamin’s eyes move to Henry’s lap. Where they stay for at least five seconds.
Alex knows; he’s counted.
“Look, Benjamin,” Alex begins. “I know we just met but if you look at my man like that one more time I will not hesitate to punch you in your fucking face.”
“Alex!” Henry yelps, withdrawing his lips from Alex’s curls. “What on God’s earth are you doing?”
“Look,” He says again, his attention still focused on Benjamin. “He’s damn gorgeous. I don’t blame you for looking. I truly don’t, but he’s taken. Happily.”
OR Jealous!Alex
jealous/protective alex made my entire day
don't go where i can't follow by coffeecatsme (~4k
Henry turns away, hair silvery under the moonlight. He doesn’t even bother to look at Alex, and something like anger flashes in Alex’s gut when he sees him reach for his backpack, like it’s that easy to abandon Alex, like Alex didn’t bare his heart to him just a day ago. “You could’ve fucking said goodbye,” he whispers before he can think about it; his voice is quiet through the knot in his throat, yet it echoes in the room like a gunshot, stopping Henry in his tracks.
Alex wakes up at the lakehouse before Henry leaves.
angsty, but i swear it gets better
in violent symphonies by saltfics (~16k) part 2 of a series (doesn't need to be read)
“So that’ll be a fun surprise. Any chance your brother’s friends are actually… you know… any fun?”
Henry halts to a stop halfway out the door, his mind screeching like a shaken record. He can feel the pull of his memory towards things he doesn’t want to think of, feels the heavy weight of it as he forces himself to focus on something else, fast so he won't acknowledge towards which twice locked door his thoughts are wandering.
Sequel to In White (but could potentially be read without it).
When Henry and Alex return to England for the christening of the new baby prince, Henry finds out his nephew's new godfather might be a terribly familiar face.
Sometimes it doesn't matter how deep you lock away a memory if it insists on showing up at your door. (But maybe you can ask for help to keep it out.)
i love henry angst :)
those markings on your skin by saltfics (~62k) incomplete
Originally a collection of one-shots based on Tumblr Prompts, but now a series of interconnected prompt-based chapters regarding a series of assassination attempts towards HRH Prince Henry, and the effect on their relationships with each other that comes with it, featuring most of the main cast. (Plus a few standalones in between).
fair warning, i haven't read it all, so i don't know everything it contains. please beware of the tags.
Home Safe by HMS_Chill (~2k)
Alex is out later than normal, and Henry is left home to worry.
as you can see, after i read God Save the Blessed American President Mom by zipadeea i got just a little obsessed. no mcd here though.
*lifelines by indomitablelove (~27k
Shaan is told by a woman from the press office.
Zahra is asleep when he calls her.
She calls Ellen.
Liam is in the library.
Oscar finds out from Twitter.
Catherine hears it from her equerry when she gets the morning papers.
It's Leo who tells June.
---
or, the emails. From everyone else's point of view.
Lockdown by bibliosoph (~4k)
Alex and Henry have a fight before Henry leaves to go to England for a bit. While in England, there is an attempted assassination and Alex loses his mind because he can't get in touch with anyone and he left things with Henry up in the air.
don't worry, there's no mcd, just alex angst.
*Soon You'll Get Better (Because You Have To) by wafflesandkruge (~4k)
Two nights after the shooting, Henry receives an email with a pre-recorded video from Alex. He gets one every night, and although it breaks his heart to see Alex happy and alive, he's terrified of when they'll stop coming.
i wasn't lying when i said i was obsessed. no mcd.
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