#arranged au tag

[tiffanyachings]

it would have been very beautiful. camilla would have had to cook (horrible bone soup)

[yume-fanfare]

emergency meeting!

(part 1)

[emmeraude]

when i look at you

— k. ayato.

synopsis: they say drunk thoughts are sober thoughts. ayato, intoxicated by the alcohol from the earlier party, finally takes the courage to confess that to him, you are more than a political partner. to him, this marriage is more than an arranged proposal. why can’t you see how fervently he attempts to make this marriage work? why won't you ever look his way? when did the walls of your relationship become too steep to climb up? how did you two end up taking the longer, rockier road of your relationship?

w.c: 4,866 oops

additional tags: female reader, arranged marriage, pining sort of? definitely slow burn, and drunk ayato bc i headcanon him as one who is clingy when drunk 😋

notes: its sooo so hard to format the centered ones 😭 if its not properly centered on your device im sorry to you and to ur family 😭🙏 lol. cross posted in both ao3 and tumblr. enjoy!

I loved you even in my ignorance.

I loved you when I didn’t even know.

I just love you.

i.

  “Never will I ever fall for you. Remember that. This marriage is solely for strengthening the political alliances of our families,” you remembered Ayato’s first words on the night of your consummation all too well.

  Under the iron facade of a picture-perfect political marriage, you know of the things yet unseen behind the curtains. It was far from ideal, seeing how neither of you had let the walls surrounding you crumble even the slightest. The emotions you have tried to keep hidden never once slipped into the seeping fragmented cracks of your oh-so-perfect marriage.

  When you were betrothed, you two were often the talk of the town—the main gossip among the nobles in Inazuma. It was a given, knowing that both of you were from prominent clans with reputable names. Ayato, the Yashiro commissioner, head of the Kamisato clan, and you, the cold-blooded lady of the Sangonomiya clan, the iron protector of Watatsumi Island. Such a perfect pair was not one to escape the tattletale mouths of those nobles that piqued their curiosity about you two.

  For the many years you were betrothed to the esteemed Kamisato Ayato, a bond between the two of you was yet to be established. It was a given, of course. It was arranged, after all. 

  Yet, often, you couldn’t help but wonder if maybe you were both too distant. Too preoccupied at the thought of this marriage being nothing but political to engage in friendly conversations, too estranged to even feign a sense of camaraderie. You pondered because the two of you silently had a mutual understanding that this political marriage of yours would be a civil one, right? So, why does your relationship seem too far from being civil? It was as if you two were nothing but mere strangers.

  Such questions were raised, but of course, you never once mustered the courage to ask your husband any of them. You were too immersed in trying to mask your emotions, thinking this might have been what your husband preferred after all—a quiet, emotionless wife who seemed to be as good as dead. And so, when he attempts to draw closer to you, you avoid it like a plague. You feel disturbed being with him, and you notice that his being around is much of a distraction to you while you are busy guarding your heart. Yet whenever you were about to succumb to your hopeless yearning, you are reminded of his words on your first night.

  “Never will I fall for you. Remember that.”

  So when he became a tad bit affectionate, you deliberately pushed him away—out of shock and confusion, to say the least. Only he can stir your emotions all at once, although, of course, he was never aware. He must never know, or so you think.

  ”Wife,” Ayato calls, opening the door and walking straight to your room, each step causing the floor to creak a little.

  “You’re home,” you acknowledge his presence, although not at once did you bat an eye. He sighs at your indifference, which is nothing new over the years of your marriage. You were indifferent, dismissive, and cold. He was busy, detached, and always nowhere to be seen. Apart from the necessary appearances to represent your clan in public, you two can only be seen together at night, quietly in your bed chambers, when the day is about to end.

  “Wife,” he calls you again as he heads toward the side of the bed to greet you with a kiss on the cheek. Trying to conceal both the shock and embarrassment from his sudden actions, you immediately pull away, a slight frown visible on your face.

  “We have already practiced before how to act when other people are around. There’s no need to do that here, not when only the two of us are present. What are you doing?” Your brow raises upon asking the question. You place your book on your lap to face him, although you refuse to look him in the eye.

  “Must I have a reason to give my wife a kiss of greeting upon my arrival?” This time, it was Ayato raising his brow as if questioning why you asked so.

  “No, I just find it unbecoming of you,” you reply coldly, dismissing him entirely before you put your book on the side table.

  “Then, I will do this from now on before we part and do our daily chores, if you would let me,” he replies, and you feel a tinge of hesitation present as he utters those words to you.

  “Ayato, stop toying me. I will retire for the night,” you hiss, turning your back from him as you lie down on the opposite side of the bed.

  “You won’t ask what prompted my sudden change of behavior?” He asks, and never once did you catch the hurt in his voice that night.

  “I don’t want to know,” you murmur, covering your face with the blanket as you tuck yourself in. “Good night,” you add before heading to slumber.

  Among all the nights you have spent with him, this was one of the coldest ones yet. Too solemn, too quiet to bear, too agonizing to never be able to utter the words you wanted to say to him.

    ii.  

  Ayato hardly ever slept that night.

  He kept on pondering where it all went wrong. Perhaps he was too harsh during the first years of your marriage, too busy to attend to his wife. Maybe he, too, was as cold as you were.

  He remembers the words of Yae Miko days ago when he was about to head home.

  “For someone as esteemed as you are, you can be quite foolish, no?” The Guuji emphasized, leaving Ayato confused about what she might be on. What is she up to?

  “Your wife,” she paused, “might have been able to find a more suitable partner had you not been arranged with her.”

  I am the most eligible husband candidate in Inazuma. That sly fox is mistaken. He thought.

  Those words have never left his mind ever since. It must have been one of the reasons why he had a sudden change of heart. If he thinks he is the most eligible husband, he must show it. What has he been doing all these years?

  Believing that the marriage was merely political, Ayato tried his best to remain as distant from you as possible—no monkey business, no attachments are allowed. He ensured that all your small talks would only be about the clan and other political opinions he wanted to hear from you. He was the first to draw the line between the two of you, yet why does he feel hurt seeing how distant you two have become for the past years? Rather than becoming closer, you seemed to have grown farther apart. The lines he drew became a full-fledged wall of boundaries as you two drifted away from each other. That was not what he wanted.

  It may be too late to make amends. The damage may have scarred the relationship even before it started. Ayato recalls the first day he saw you, with his face the same as ever, a practiced smile etched on his lips, the smile never once reaching his eyes as he utters the words he never meant to say. He faced several hurdles on the day of your marriage, several assassination attempts and a never-ending interrogation from the nobles who wanted to acquire the power of the Kamisato Clan by forcing their daughters onto him even on the day of his wedding ceremony. It left such distaste in his mouth, seeing how the power-hungry nobles were ever so aggressive and disrespectful. He must have thought back then that maybe you were like them too, hence why he said those words to you with such contempt.

  I will never fall for her? Celestia, such an absurd thing to say when my wife is as lovely as could be despite the exuding coldness she gives off, he thinks. Now, he is determined to make this relationship work. He promised himself that despite this being political, he would treat you well. He will give you gifts, spoil you rotten, and perhaps become good allies. However, he has been so preoccupied with work that he has forgotten his wife waiting for him at home. It’s been years, he thought. Such a douchebag I am... He hopes it’s not yet too late to woo you, and he will do everything he can to make those high walls of yours crumble to ashes completely. If he has a face fancied by many, he might ought to put it to good use, right?

  However, there was one thing he overlooked. He never noticed it back then, and realization only hits him right now when he eats breakfast with you after many weeks of not eating together. 

  Not once did you look him in the eye. 

  Figuratively and literally, he supposed. Was it always this way?

  “Wife,” he calls you to get your attention and see whether you’ll look at him. Unsurprisingly, you did not, which caused something in his heart to twinge. Must you be so cold? 

  “What?”

  “Can I have an ounce of your attention?” he asks, his tableware clinking more as he anticipates your undivided attention.

  “I’m listening. What is it?” Much to his dismay, you still did not look at him, too focused on the meal in front of you as you ate quietly.

  “No. I want you to look at me,” he says, meaning it literally and figuratively.

  “Not now, my lord, for I am still eating. Even so, I am all ears. Just what, pray tell, do you want to speak about?”

  Ayato sighed defeatedly; even a frown was seen upon hearing you call him “my lord.” He shakes his head, not wanting to be as forward as he was earlier, and decides not to speak anymore, for he thinks it might cause you to push him away even further. He wipes his mouth using the table napkin before him as he finishes his meal. He looks at you once more, noticing a lingering sauce on the side of your lips. Instinctively, he leans to you and wipes them off, startling you. This prompts you to finally, finally look at him. A smirk forms on his lips upon seeing how flustered you look.

  “Y-you could have just told me… I can wipe it off myself,” you stammer, a blush creeping down your cheeks. Despite your attempts to hide it, his actions obviously affected you.

  “I know. I just want to do it for you,” Ayato says, triumphant at the sight of you blushing because of him. He wants to speak more, perhaps to tease you, but he chose to stay still when he heard nothing from your end.

  Silence envelops the room after that. You do not know how to respond to his gestures right now. You are having a hard time deciphering what he wants. Did he purposefully do that because he was paying attention to you? Or is he perhaps touch starved? You quickly brush off these thoughts, thinking they are far from sensible. It’s merely foolish thinking. You believe that the great Kamisato Ayato is far from being like that.

  Ayato sighs again, and you swear it was the fourth time he did so during your breakfast. He must have despised the idea of sharing meals with me, you thought to yourself. He continues to look at you, and even without direct eye contact, you know, you feel him staring at you as if he wants to say something.

  “I just want to tell you in advance that there will be another social gathering hosted by the Hiiragi clan for all of the nobles in Inazuma,” Ayato speaks once more, trying to divert another topic in hopes of hearing your voice again.

  “When will it be held?” You ask, and he rejoices upon hearing how lovely your voice sounds in his ears.

  “Three months from now, I suppose,” he replies, his tone calm despite feeling slightly giddy.

  Was there a reason why he said it to you so early? Does he want you to prepare meticulously for the party? What does he want? Oh, Celestia. Your husband is so hard to figure out. It makes you think that perhaps you may have known nothing about him at all, which was understandable since the two of you barely strike up any conversations that are not work-related. Still, it left a bad taste in your mouth, knowing you two were estranged from one another despite being married for years.

  Ayato, on the other hand, realizes he has come to love you far more than he could ever admit. He would like to ask himself when and how the love started to bloom in his heart, yet he could never pinpoint an exact moment. Was it when he first saw how beautiful you looked on your wedding day? Or was it when he witnessed how you gracefully wield your sword, infused with the faintest touch of electro—a skill that might be unmatched even by the Shogun herself? Was it when he saw you having tea with his dear sister, Ayaka, smiling fondly at her while your pleasant laughter filled the room? He does not know. One thing he learned is that it steadily grew. Patiently, ardently, crushingly so, without him ever knowing. And when he understood it, it had grown too big to ignore. Too overwhelming to hide, so much that oftentimes it seeps into the cracks in his guarded heart whenever you two are together.

  He started giving you gifts more frequently than before and started writing letters regarding what he has been up to at work. However, the letters do not get reciprocated, much to his dismay. Perhaps you were so stunned at his gradual changes that you find it hard to keep your usual composed, distant facade, seeing how much he has changed over the past few months. But he understands. He decided to give you all the time you need until you finally respond to him—both to his letters and his feelings. Ayato realized he loved you in the past oh so silently. Perhaps too silent—too hushed for you to ever have known, ever to feel. Slowly, he has learned to love more freely and vocally, even in his simple ways. He has yet to say it, sure, but he wishes his love becomes more piercing and loud for you to know, for you to feel.

iii.

  Months passed, and the much-awaited social gathering for the nobles to be hosted by the Hiiragi clan finally arrived. While the servants helped you prepare for the said party, you heard a knock on the door, with smiling Ayato entering. He pause for a moment before walking towards you, reveling as he looks at the beauty in front of him.

  “Dear wife, you look dazzling as ever,” your husband marvels, eyeing you from head to toe with his lips a bit open.

  “Enough of your bluffing, Ayato. Such a sweet liar you are,” a small chuckle escapes your lips, leaving your husband feeling delighted at the sight as he rushes over to you to take a closer look at your appearance. He gently takes your hand, leaving a light peck on your knuckles.

  “Not once did I ever lie to you. You look beautiful,” Ayato looks at you, full of adoration in his eyes. Once you also looked at him, you immediately avoided staring at him for far too long, afraid his beauty might as well entrance you. For while he utters his praises of how beautiful you look, you can’t help but revel his face when you stare at him. He, too, seems as if the gods carved him carefully. Beautiful, crushingly so. He was the epitome of majestic.

  The last three months went by like a hurricane. Never once did you imagine you would little by little open your heart to the man before you. For the last few months, you have seen him actively reaching out to you more than before. Still, your heart was guarded, albeit not much more than it was in the past. You see, your relationship progresses to something more than plain civility. The two of you formed a sense of kinship as you got to know more about one another.

  Once the party started, you two stuck around each other for a while, then parted ways shortly thereafter to mingle with several nobles separately. It was almost past ten, and having not noticed the time, you searched for Ayato, who was nowhere to be seen. You turn and find Thoma, who is guarding you at the corner. You asked him if he knew your husband’s whereabouts, to which he responded that he was in the other room drinking with the noblemen. You thanked him and asked him to head there with him.

  As you open the door, you see your husband sitting with the nobles, holding a cup. There was something different about him, though. You notice his eyes are close to squinting as you walk towards them. You greeted the noblemen shortly and focused your attention on Ayato, who looked like he drank a little alcohol upon seeing the presence of redness on his ear.

  “Ayato, goodness…” you mumble to yourself. It was unlikely for him to look drunk like this.

  “The wine tastes a bit sweet, so he must have drunk a lot, milady,” Thoma says, and you realize that Ayato likes sweets, which must have been why he drank a lot without knowing that the wine was strong. Ayato opens his eyes, a stern look he tries to make. This prompts you to giggle a bit, seeing how your husband never once softens his look even while being intoxicated.

  The ride home was ever so silent. Ayato stares at you piercingly, and you, left not knowing what to do, avoid his gaze as always. After a few while, however, you decide to ask how he is feeling.

  “Are you okay?” You ask out of concern since he seemed to be spacing out, which was so unlikely of him.

  “I am. My head just feels dizzy,” he murmurs.

  “That’s the consequence of drinking a lot,” you teased him, and even though you weren’t looking at him, you felt as though he was rolling his eyes. My, look at that sass, you thought.

  “It’s not my fault that the wine is sweet. It almost tastes that of boba tea,” Ayato counters.

  “You could have just asked for another sweet beverage similar to boba, Ayato,” you argued once more, obviously amused at his replies.

  “I cannot decline the eager requests of the noblemen who surrounded me,” he sighs.

  “Must you drink a lot, then?” You raise your eyebrow.

  “Heavens, wife. Please stop scolding me. Never did I know I could never win an argument with you,” he sighs again, earning yet another hearty laugh from you in response to what he says. Ah, music to my ears, Ayato thought.

  “Alright, alright. I’ll shut up,” you resign in defeat, although your laugh has still yet subsided.

  You arrived at the estate shortly after. With the help of Thoma, you hand-in-hand carried your husband to your private chambers. You thank your retainer as he quietly exits.

  You prepare a damp towel with a basin filled with water to wash your husband, then carefully undo the kumihimo and try to remove all the layers of his ever-so-thick clothing slowly. He stirs a bit, opening his eyes as he witnesses you caring for him. He sits up, helping you remove his clothes so that he can now wear his night kimono. Now that his upper body was bare and free from any clothes, you wiped his arms, then his chest, and lastly, his neck. 

  “I can do this on my own…” he murmurs, which seems to be grumbling in your ears.

  “I doubt. Someone as pampered as you?” You snorted.

  “Oh, come on. Stop attacking me when I’m in such a weak-minded state,” he scoffs, and now you clearly can no longer hide the amusement because of his actions.

  You merely chuckle lightly, a sight he revels the most. Abruptly, he pulls you closer to him, head feeling a bit hazy as he takes in your scent. He wraps his arms around you, his body leaning towards yours as your back touches the headboard of your bed.

  “Ayato?” You gently tap his cheeks, causing him to lean closer to your touch.

  He was silent for a while, with his breath steady and slow, and when you have come to conclude that he perhaps might have fallen asleep, he speaks, making you jolt a bit in surprise.

  “Why…” Ayato mumbles to his breath, his head nuzzling to your neck upon sighing with exasperation. Albeit confused, you strive to console him by patting him gently, trying to understand that he must have been far more intoxicated because of the drinks he had earlier.

  “Why won’t you look at me?” He says, as if pleading with you to take even just one glance, to take a chance with him.

  “Pardon?” You pause for a moment.

  “Look at me,” you feel a thread of desperation laced in his voice so soft that it might have threatened your senses, altering your resolve as you try to remain composed.

  “I am looking at you now, Ayato,” you answer, facing him to prove your point. However, your eyes never once gazed at his, even now. Try as you may, you can never find a solid explanation of his actions. Upon saying those words, you made an effort to sound as calm as possible, as if trying to soothe your husband, who seemed to be... sulking...?

  “No, you know that’s not what I meant,” he groans, causing you to be a bit taken aback. Oh, seeing him frowning and grumbling, such a sight of him you have never witnessed your whole life. Not until now, that is. What in the world did Ayato drink for him to become this sluggish and vulnerable?

  “What, then?” You pause for a while, confusion now clearly etched on your face as you look at him.

  “Why must you be so cruel? If only you could see how much I devote myself to this marriage. How I’m devoted to... to you…” His voice was somewhat cracked, making it seem as if it was what keeping him up late at night for the past few days.

  His words left you bewildered. You blink your eyes a couple of times, feeling your cheeks warming upon realizing what he meant. Oh. You choose to shut your mouth, because the best option you can think about right now is avoiding confrontation. To avoid talking. And you know that’s what you’re good at. 

  “See? You won’t even respond to me right now…” he purposefully laced his voice with sulking, knowing how it works on you all too well.

  “I’m sorry, I don’t know what to say, Ayato,” you admit, sighing as you think that maybe you cannot avoid things forever.

  “Your normal response when someone confesses to you should either be a rejection or acceptance, or even an ounce of gratitude will do, my darling wife. Don’t you know that?” Ayato coos. Despite the hint of teasing in his voice, there was also gentleness in it, as if making sure to be patient with whatever response you may give.

  “And why is my drunk husband lecturing me about this? For a drunk person, you sure are chatty, no?” You attempt to tease him, which, in return, he merely snorts. He was silent for a while afterwards, and then he spoke again.

  “Because I want to know how you feel about me, too…”

  You were quiet once more, again taken aback by his straightforwardness. You have known Ayato to be a no-nonsense type of person. He does not like it when people beat around the bush. Despite him being known as a cunning charmer who has the power to entice people with his mere words, he makes sure that his words never lack substance. He especially lets you know his likes and dislikes, and you thought to yourself once that his straightforwardness was what you liked the most, in contrast to you, who have learned to conceal everything even from your husband. 

  “Ayato, if I may be honest with you… I was ready to live as though I was dead in the first months of our marriage. It was so lonely, you know?” you say to him, which alarmed him as he faced you with a frown.

  “Wife…”

  “I made my walls too high because I was scared that when you see a fracture of my vulnerability, you might look away and throw me. And knowing that there are a lot of people coveting the position as your wife, I was restless, Ayato, because I know I am replaceable, and you are not,” you paused a bit, feeling something heavy blocked in your throat as you struggle to speak without breaking down. He was about to protest what you said when you stopped him and continued talking.

  “A-and why do you think I was that scared? It was because I loved you too, idiot, from the start. I loved you secretly and learned to keep this feeling of mine. Do you know how terrified I am upon imagining you looking at me with disgust if ever you find it out? You uttered in our first meeting that I should never expect any love from you!” Your voice broke a bit as tears finally fell. Ayato promptly cups your face to wipe away the tears cascading down your face.

  “Shh… I’m so sorry, my love. I’m so sorry. I want to make it up to you. I will make sure I can. Please let me. I love you…” Ayato murmurs as he gently rubs your back, all while hugging you. Your soft sniffles are heard across the room, and it pains him to hear those from you. He likes it when you speak; he likes to listen to your voice, which he thinks was a rarity back then. However, never did he imagine he would come to hear your cries because of him, and it broke his heart, too. He looks up, staring at your face, and kisses your tears away. He kisses your forehead, then nuzzles to your neck as the two of you finally drifted to sleep afterwards with you cradled in his arms.

    As soon you feel the sun’s glaring light, you gently open your eyes. You see your husband at your side with you two facing each other, and immediately, embarrassment fills up your thoughts upon recalling how much you cried to him last night. Embarrassing! I hope he was too drunk to remember what I said last night! 

  Your wishes were unheard, however, as he stirs awake shortly after you do. Ayato opens his eyes, immediately searching yours the moment he does so. The first thing he did was to plant a soft kiss on your forehead, a grin plastering his lips upon seeing your red face. He shakes his head while touching your face as if reading your mind.

  “If you think I have forgotten our conversations last night, you are wrong, my darling wife. I shall embed it in my mind for the rest of my life.”

  “Shut up,” you roll your eyes in return, earning a heartfelt laugh from him. He will always ever be glad to see a new side of you.

  “I know you love me,” he teases more, the smile on his face never once faded. He kisses your forehead first, then your cheeks, then finally, your lips. Despite being a bit starstruck, you still spoke to him to keep up with your bantering.

  “Fair reminder that it was you who confessed first, dear husband. You love me, too,” you retorted, feeling snug at your comeback as you smirked at him.

  “Oh, no one can deny that. I love you, and I yearn for you most ardently, my lovely wife.”

  This time, you are sure the two of you will now walk the path at the same pace. No more secrets you need to conceal, no more running away despite things getting overwhelming. Lastly, no more looking down in hopes of avoiding his gaze. You know you can now erase the lines you ridiculously drew at the start of your marriage. You are now well rested, knowing the high walls you two built to protect yourselves are crumbling slowly but surely, steadily, and beautifully. 

  Ayato is at peace, too, knowing how you finally learned to look at him. Moreso at the fact that you looked at him now oh so lovingly. And as such, the two of you are now finally listening to the beat of your hearts both of you stubbornly tried to avoid.

istg posting in tumblr is hard 😭 this is my first time here lmaooo salute to all writers here omg. i hope all ayato stans (me) are having a feast at the surge of ayato fics here in tumblr we r blessed 🔥

[lunarharp]

tired

[hypogryffin]

TELL US ABOUT THE PRINCESS KNIGHT AU PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PL

ok sorry its been like two months but anyways lets talk abt the princess/knight au!!!

haru is a princess, specifically the only heir to king kunikazu. yusuke is sort of a knight, but it's more that he's haru's personal bodyguard!

his mother was a court painter. she was pretty physically weak and fell ill a lot, and after she had yusuke, she realised that, while her and her family were able to live with the royal family for now due to her work, if and when her sickness claims her, her son would no longer be welcome in the castle. since she was all the family yusuke had, that would mean hed likely live the rest of his life on the streets, and as a young child, he wouldnt have the means to make that rest of his life a very long one.

so she made a deal with the king, haru's father, and it was decided he would grow up as harus retainer.

[image ID slash written text for those who cant read my handwriting (😔):

(servant, holding a 1 year old haru in their arms): do you see him, princess? [a shot of a small baby sleeping] his name is yusuke. from now on, his job will be to protect you.

a note next to the drawing of baby haru reads "yusuke is a year younger than haru, as in canon, but it was decided very early on in his life that he would be haru's personal guard!"

a drawing of a young yusuke and haru with another note that says "he began learning how to wield a sword and bow basically as soon as he was physically able, but until he was learned enough to protect haru, he just acted sort of as an escort to her {while a retinue guarded both of them}"

end id.]

its a good thing it was decided so early, too: yusukes mother succumbed to illness before yusuke was even three years old. (he has no memory of her. haru doesnt either, but she DOES remember the funeral that was held.)

(one of the last pieces yusukes mother ever painted was of a young haru holding a baby, a man who would one day become her guard. it became a pretty significant piece for the okumura kingdom for a while, actually: it was used to mean "serve the royal family and it shall serve you, in turn". its hung up on the stairwell into the castle guards' quarters.)

anyway, so yusuke and haru grew up together. they were paired so early on into their lives that neither of them have any memory of a time without each other: for all it matters to them, they were born hand-in-hand with their roles set in place.

they were very close as children, especially before yusuke was considered sufficiently trained in his weapons. it was very common for them to walk around the castle holding hands, and they barely ever separated, only ever doing so for things like sleep or bathing, or lessons-- though the last of those wasnt always true. yusuke would have lessons alongside haru in things like etiquette, of course, but could also be found in the room for things such as history, or her music lessons. likewise, haru would watch yusuke train, though she wasnt allowed to wield a sword or bow herself and could only cheer him on.

(not until they were a bit older, when yusuke taught her how to fight with a sword himself. even then, they used wooden swords, so that haru wouldnt get hurt.)

yusuke was the only boy other than the king himself allowed in harus bedroom, since the only others given access were the handmaids responsible for things like cleaning her room, dressing or bathing her, et cetera. he used to enter as he pleased as such, and only got into the practice of properly knocking and announcing his presence as they got older. hes all-together almost completely stopped actually going into her room, opting instead to stand at her door until she leaves, herself.

as they grew up, they were steadily more and more discouraged from being as physically affectionate as they were as children. yusuke was punished for doing things like holding her hand if they were seen, and was taught to instead be a silent presence to her side or two paces behind her, seen and not heard, the way a "guard" ought to be. at the same time, harus etiquette lessons taught her the necessary decorum to be a princess and one day a queen, and there was no room for a friendship with a retainer, even if it was yusuke. though they care for each other just as much as when they were children, perhaps even more devoted, youd be fair to miss it, since neither of them are able to be open with each other anymore.

(yusukes still slightly more touchy-feely than whats probably expected of a guard. its not really physical affection in the same way, but he'll do things like brush dust or pluck lint off of haru's dresses himself or adjust her hair or jewelry or clothes-- of course, only to make sure her highness looks her best, so its forgiven to the outside observer, but still something technically not of his station.)

haru is a lot different that she was when they were children. proper etiquette is extensive, obviously, and the young girl that was considered the country's daughter, kind and open whenever seen in processions, has long since been stripped for parts. her public face has matured quite a bit by necessity, though her kindness and permanent smile remains-- it's simply that it's more of a part she plays, at this point, any of her natural disposition worn to steel, as a certain amount of control is necessary for a woman of her station.

she doesnt regret the person shes become, even if somewhat conniving-- after all, she needs a certain amount of cunning to keep her head above water in the political scene. or its more that she's not able to regret it, as she's never had any other option than to become as jaded as she is today.

still, it's hard not to yearn for the old days, when they were innocent children. shes not quite aware of it, herself, but she certainly misses yusuke, her friend. its just hard to figure that out when to this day, yusuke, her guard, remains as staunchly by her side as her best friend always has.

when i made the initial drawings for the princess/knight au, i wrote the beginning of a short story of a yusuke pov that i unfortunately must have tossed it because i dont have it anymore, but his character is defined by his devotion. hes never known anything other than being haru's, after all, and considers everything he does a labour of love for her. every moment he spends training is for her, every injury for her sake, every callous a simple, unavoidable byproduct of his servitude. he keeps the posture he learned in his etiquette classes even in private, because erring once is to live with the knowledge of his erring forever, and more than that, risking forming the habit of being anything less than the perfect knight for his lady is something he can't bear the thought of.

luckily, there isnt much danger living in the castle, so yusuke only trains as ardently as he does as precaution for the most part, but there was one incident in which the castle was attacked by royal detractors. haru wasnt actively targeted, being only 8 years old at the time, but there was a spot of trouble where he had to protect her. yusuke, being 7, wasnt fully learned in his swordsmanship yet, and sustained a few scars, including but not limited to one on his eyebrow he hides behind his hair, but considers himself barely harmed, especially considering that that was the incident that took many other castle guards' lives, as well as the life of the queen, haru's mother.

king kunikazu and the kingdom at large is currently pretty uneasy due to a war brewing just a bit away; neither the kingdom nor any of its current allies are being actively threatened, but its one of already many due to one kingdom's ancient rome-esque conquering of a path of smaller countries, and the "okumura" kingdom looks as if it will be on the warpath sooner or later. due to this, the kingdom's engaged with an alliance with a comparatively smaller kingdom that it neighbours. the alliance is going to be officiated with a marriage: haru is kunikazu's only heir, but due to some societal stuff, as a woman she's considered unfit to rule as a monarch. so, she's now to be married with one of the sons of said neighbouring kingdom, who will act as ruler with her at his side:

akira is the son of the king and technically an eligible heir to the kurusu kingdom, but due to his place as the 4th son, he's not a crown prince/not considered to be in line for the throne-- or at least, not to his home nation, as he's now set to be the king of the okumura kingdom.

he seems to be of the same mind as haru: uninterested in her in a romantic sense, but has accepted the marriage for the sake of his country. however, he also seems completely uninterested-- or perhaps actively against-- the prospect of being king, not of his own country and not of the okumura kingdom. it seems that hes grown up acting as more of a free spirit; hes pretty crafty, and has a reputation amongst his own retinue for always managing to sneak off, running away as soon as hes left unattended by his father or instructors, or disappearing overnight (much to the grief and distress of his caretakers), though he's always returned, apparently rather aware of his own limits, or at least capable of getting himself out of whatever trouble he ends up getting into, without drawing the ire of either the common people or his father, the king.

because of his nature, he either sees himself as unfit for king, or merely feels stifled by the idea of the position, and in private talks has disclosed to haru that hed much rather her take her (in his words) rightful place as the queen and head of the nation, and is more than alright with her being the brains/power of the operation, even if in the end it has to be him giving speeches when necessary.

however, while disliking the idea of being a king in general, and also disinterested in haru as anything more than a confidant (having also privately disclosed to her that he does have his eye on someone), he seems attached to the arrangement of this marriage, for “some unknown reason”.

((thats right baby its ALSO a kitashu au get fucked))

akira and haru are officially engaged at the time of the story, and are in the midst of planning for the wedding! they tentatively become friends, since theyre both kind of stuck with each other presumably for the rest of their lives. hes seemingly made a goal to make haru let her guard down, and has even convinced her at some point to sneak out of the castle with him (at a point where he and his father were visiting) to explore the surrounding town without their retinues-- something that gave yusuke specifically about 7 heart attacks, as its something harus never done before.

oh yeah, and by the way, yusuke fucking hates akira.

haru really liked seeing the town without her guards, and without having to put on the air of princess. it was freeing to act as a commoner, and the first time shes been able to strip herself of her etiquette-- something she cant do around anyone in the castle, not even yusuke, at least not to the extent she has to to blend in with the townspeople. she liked it so much that it becomes a regular thing whenever akira is at the castle and not in his own country.

some of harus caretakers have noticed her disappearances, including yusuke, who is at her side in almost every waking moment: he greets her in the morning to escort her to breakfast and brings her to her room at night. when hes not standing at her side, hes guarding the room shes in, and only leaves her when its time for him to turn in for the night, as well. obviously hes noticed this sudden habit of disappearing, and more than that, HES the one who ends up tasked with discouraging harus maids from disclosing this to king kunikazu, since haru isnt aware theyve figured her out, and their social standing disallows them from discussing it with her themselves. haru asked yusuke to keep her and akira's outings a secret from her father when he confronted her after the first time, so its his duty to make sure its a secret.

its not that yusuke resents akira for giving him more work-- hes more than happy to do something as trivial as this for haru, his princess, but its more that this means yusukes forced to be idle while distinctly aware that haru, who hes spent his entire life protecting and caring for, is off somewhere unknown, could be in danger or could be physically harmed, and hes not only none the wiser but also complicit, by allowing her to do this. though he cant ask her to stop, because its clear haru is happier with these momentary escapes. its a miserable position to be in, and he fully blames akira for being the one to put him there

(and resents him for the fact that akira is an outsider and a newcomer. despite this, its clear that hes doing something for haru that yusuke hasnt been able to, not since they started growing up. hes making her happy, and comfortable.

its anxiety over harus safety, and an intense, burning jealousy that hes not really able to identify in the same way)

[text id:

yusuke looking angry as he says "my lady's happiness is of the utmost importance to me. it is for this reason alone that i will allow these escapades to go on, without reporting them to the king or your father." "this marriage will be essential to this country's future, and i have no intention of interfering in your relationship with your fiancée, even considering my role as her loyal servant."

the second drawing reveals him to have cornered akira, seemingly pinning him to a wall, as he continues "however, if i find you to ever, ever put the princess's life in danger, then this country as well as your own be damned, i will strike you down myself, and i swear on my life to make your death ten thousand times as painful as whatever harm you have caused to her highness. do you understand, my lord?"

akira is blushing heavily, knees cowed slightly. he stutters out a "uh. uh-huh" like he's in a trance. an arrow points to him with a note that reads "his gay ass is NOT listening!"

end id]

for some actual story…

during a banquet held in celebration of akira and haru's engagement, king kunikazu suddenly collapsed and lost his life in that room. it was discovered that the cup he was drinking from was poisoned.

no one has any idea who assassinated the king-- it could very well be some of the many citizens that disliked the king's rather strict policies. the taxes are high, and punishment for crimes tend to be much stricter than in other countries. however, a common rumour among many of the townsfolk is that it was the world of the neighbouring kingdom: a ploy to get prince akira in power in order to take over the nation and subsume it as part of the kurusus' country.

regardless of whether or not that has any merit or is simply baseless rumour, the wedding has been temporarily postponed so that the country-- and haru-- may focus on the investigation. akira, at the least, seems more than willing to help. if it really the scheme of his nation, or of his father, he seems both unaware and unwilling to be a part of it, offering every aid he can to haru, even if it ends up only effectively being an open ear.

yusuke remains by her side, as he always had and as he always will-- perhaps a bit more protective of her, somehow, but the entire castle is on edge, so its not as if thats unexpected. as a knight, a simple extension of his lady's will, he cant do much for her to solve her problems, not possessing the intelligence to solve the case of her father's murder, the political knowhow to aide her and her fathers advisor who's acting as regent pro tempore in ruling, nor a magical ability to bring king kunikazu, someone who he had come to see as his own father in some form, himself, back from the land of the dead. still, he is harus humble servant, and devoted to her above all else, and whatever his lady needs, he will do his best to provide.

the story is about the political aspect of haru and akiras ascension to ruling and of trying to find a culprit, but also about the relationship between the three of them: akira getting closer to both of them, and yusuke and haru reconnecting. :)

[seafoamdew]

Thank you for tagging me @alkalinefrog and @bignostalgias !

Post the last sentence you wrote (fanfic / original / anything) and tag as many people as there are words in the sentence.

I'll give you more than a sentence actually as an apology for being away for so long. I'll give you some snippets of the arranged marriage au that I've been working to turn into an actual multichapter fic from the drabbles/one-shots it is now 😉

Snippet #1

 “You would dare dishonour your wife’s words? Her promise to me?” Signy’s face is still, her voice a deadly calm as she stares the large Viking down.  “They should be given the chance to find love,” Stoick implores instead of fanning her quiet rage by answering.  “We are giving them that chance. They have already formed a great friendship, and there is no greater soil where love can grow.”

Snippet #2

“Take care of him for me will you?” Jack said as he pulled away from the hug with a grin. “I’d like him healthy and whole for our wedding.” “How whole could he be with a missing leg?” Astrid quipped sardonically. Jack laughed. “Fair point! I’ll trust you to keep him from losing any more limbs. You know how he is.” "I can hear you two, you know," Hiccup said flatly, joining them. "And I can keep my limbs attached just fine, thank you."

Snippet #3

“So, if you really think about it– under all that armour and tailored leather, he really is just the same scrawny runt you know and love. Fishbones and all.” Hiccup paused just before the clubhouse entrance, brows raised at the conversation that was most certainly about him. The fact that it came from Tuffnut’s mouth only smelled like trouble.  “Well, not really all the same. Cuz of the… you know…” By Thor, if they’re talking about his leg- “The leg.” Alright, that's it!

I'm tagging you. That's right, you, you reading this very sentence. Ily 😘

[writeshite]

Robb sitting on your face getting eaten out when someone walks in wanting to get you guys to go to the conference room

Robb shuddered, biting his lip as he felt your tongue plunge deeper, he'd been worried you might break your neck, but you'd brushed him off and held him down by his thighs as you feasted on his arse. He rides when he remembers to, his mind preoccupied with getting lost in the sensation, so lost in the fact that Robb hardly notices the knock on the door and is surprised when a counselor walks in to demand your presence.

The counselor shrieks in surprise and covers his eyes, running out of the room in a frenzy, Robb would love to go help the counselor and perhaps console him, but he leaves that for whoever finds the man. It's not like he could move while you were busy enjoying yourself.

[banjjakz]

I loooove arranged marriage + affair fics! Are we thinking reader being younger than gojo? I kinda have a thing for poor young lovers dmdmkkd

[arranged marriage au og post]

“poor young lovers” well you’ve come to the right place anon!

arranged marriage AUs are in & of themselves quite compelling. however, it wouldn’t be a banjjakz story™️ if there wasn’t a twist — in this verse, i’m convinced that is is gojo himself who orchestrates the arrangement. subtly slipping your family portfolio into the thick file of potential brides mulled over by clan elders; bribing various transport companies to cancel certain train times so you are forced to meet him “by chance” while riding a different line than your normal choice; he might even go so far as to directly proposition your parents & involve them in the scheming from the beginning.

with this in mind, you could honestly be any age & still would he consider you his fated beloved.

certainly, a younger betrothed comes with all kinds of salacious implications: that you’re too naïve to recognize your husband’s obvious manipulation of circumstances, that you think the way he treats (read: controls) you is commonplace.

if you were significantly younger than gojo, your affair with yuuta would provide her a necessary learning curve into the cunning, brutal social ecosystem of powerful jujutsu sorcerers. you might even learn how to sway some currents, yourself.

[space-mermaid-writing]

Consort and King [Series Masterlist]

Summary: Anthony Stark, King of Midgard, needs a spouse. Whether he wants one or not. So he accepts an arranged marriage with the Prince of Kamar-Taj – a man he has never met in his life. To the day they are standing in front of each other at the altar, speaking their vows. Is it possible that the feeling of duty grows into something more? Will their future be happy?

Relationship: Stephen Strange / Tony Stark

Tags: arranged marriage au, royal au, strangers to husbands, enemies to lovers, slow burn, idiots in love, fluff, hurt/comfort, miscommunication, all the good stuff

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 |

Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 |

Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 |

Chapter 13 | Chapter 14 | Chapter 15 |

Snippet under the cut

Stephen rolled his eyes at him. "And what is it you're exactly expecting from me, Anthony?"

It was Tony's turn to roll his eyes, not expecting any of this conversation. He didn't feel ready for it, his head was swimming from the wine he'd drank and the long day he'd had. "It's Tony," he retorted. "And I was expecting a husband."

"You got one," Stephen told him. "At least on paper. I'm happy to do the public service with you to show the people unity but come on, let's not kid ourselves. You didn't want me and I certainly didn't want you."

"Have someone else in mind?" Tony replied dryly.

"No," Stephen shook his head. "But I'd have preferred to make my own decision on who I'm supposed to live the rest of my life with."

Tony snorted at the idea, it was preposterous and Stephen, as a prince, understood that well enough. Royalty didn't choose who they could marry.

"Welcome to the real world," Tony replied with a laugh. "Maybe you spent too much time with your magic and not enough figuring out just what life has set out for us. You know what this alliance will do for both our kingdoms, or do you consider yourself more important than your own people?"

Stephen glared at him and Tony knew the 'magic' remark had hit a nerve.

[luminessdoodles]

moar carmen au!

[atomizerjunkie]

the outsiders AU i thought of last night while playing minecraft ❤️ (+ art to go with it! MINOR BLOOD WARNING & animal death—very sorry)

so basically, i use a johnny cade skin in minecraft and got bored so i started killing everything in sight. right, simple enough, but then i saw this little black rabbit, so i chased it down and happened to corner it. i used an axe to kill it and when i did i got this fucking EPIPHANY a goddamn VISION and dropped everything to write this down

johnny cade except when he killed bob, he found out he liked killing things & decides to be a little shit and go do it some more

this is EXTREMELY ooc, but like… he still ACTS like johnny while doing all this.. so is it really occ?

ponyboy (bless his heart, but i don’t think about him much, so his significance in this AU doesn’t really exist) is scared of him 💔 but then again they all are (except dally, i’ll elaborate later) but he still cares for johnny and is like “well, at least it’s just animals!” until it isn’t JUST animals…. then he’s like “well, at least it’s not us!” (but he still doesn’t like all the killing and tries to help johnny STOP KILLING SHIT)

johnny goes to dally to tell him about his horrible urges first since he doesn’t want to scare off ponyboy because he can figure it all out, and dally helps him ❤️ (technically not jally okay, just them being them. but if you do want to see it as jally/grilled cheese—like how i do!!—then go ahead)

dally has a really hard time accepting that this is the way johnny is now, but he’s still supporting him because he cares a lot and knows he’ll probably be johnny’s only way of support at all

dally ALSO has to keep him out of trouble with the law since he’s starting to want to kill PEOPLE 💔 save my boy dally /j

johnny will come to him in the middle of the night covered in blood and be like “dal… i made a mess 🧍‍♂️” and dally just stares at him like

two-bit once caught him in the lot maiming an animal and was like “WOAH! whatcha got there, johnny? 😅”

and johnny just said “keith if you run your fucking mouth about this i will slit your throat open”

which obviously, since he CARES about two-bit and the gang, he would never do since he wouldn’t hurt them

but still, two-bit did NOT run his fucking mouth about that since how was he supposed to know it was just an empty threat?

besides two-bit, no one else in the gang knows about all of.. this (thankfully)

anyway, silly johnny keeps killing shit and dally has to be there to clean it up and keep him mostly in check (but between you and me, he partially enjoys all the craziness that johnny gets him into. it’s refreshing to get this kind of experience with him so often, but still stressful since johnny keeps stumbling over to him drenched in blood)

OKAY ANYWAY au doodles 🫶🫶

eugh disgusting emo boy

and a little comic strip thing i made

okay that’s all byebye

[liron-ao3]

Royal Flush

Mature / WiP

After centuries of wars and hostility, the kingdoms of Edom and Idris conclude an honour peace. To solidify it, Prince Magnus is supposed to marry an Idris royal...

Go to ao3 to read this story

[yume-fanfare]

a huge problem!

[gayferrari]

charlos corpse bride au fits the ferrari arranged marriage narrative so well. who would be victor and victoria and who would be emily? this would require charlos + another person/pairing but idk who, maybe seb?

HAPPY SPOOKY MONTH TO YOU ANON, I love this!!

Charles and Carlos arranged marriage but which one is the rich upstart and which one is the impoverished nobleman? I can see it going either way.

If Charles is Victor: obviously he'd make a mess of the wedding ceremony because Reyes judges the fuck out of him and it makes him nervous :3 He gets swept away to the realm of the dead by Seb, and has a good time for a while! Seb is someone whom in another life he would have been very happy with!! except he's dead <- Seb retirement parallels but angstier because he was MURDERED on his ELOPEMENT NIGHT :( Meanwhile after Charles disappear, Carlos's family try to arrange a wedding to *spins wheels* James Vowles.

IF Carlos is Victor and Charles is Victoria: Carlos runs away from the wedding because he makes a mess of things because he's the only one who doesn't speak French and feels left out :/ In this case ofc Emily would be Lando. He can have the whimsy for it. He and Carlos have some fun times until Carlos starts to pine for his still-alive fiance who in the meantime has gotten engaged to, uhm. Mattia Binotto? Zak Brown? Anyway Carlos NEEDS to save him.

Genuinely cannot pick. Both would be compelling and cute as hell

[theresthesnitch]

Saturday Snippet

I'm not tagged or anything; I just wanted to share something.

This is from my Wolfstar Royal Arranged Marraige AU. As a reminder, Remus is trans but not out yet, and this is the night of the wedding to Sirius. They are virtual strangers here.

PLEASE NOTE: This is Sirius's POV, and since Remus has not told his new husband he is trans, Sirius calls Remus by his soon-to-be dead name and female pronouns. There's no animosity here, just lack of knowledge.

~~~

Sirius didn’t have to wait long, however. The door between their chambers opened, and Rebecca walked through wearing a long, thin white gown. He could just make out the outline of her body under it, silhouetted through the gauzy material with the light of the fireplace behind her. She was his wife, for better or for worse, and he was going to have to figure out how to make that work. 

As he walked closer to her, he also realized that she was trembling. No, trembling was a mild word for the way her body shook as he approached. Her eyes looked set, certain, but Sirius couldn’t stop the uneasy feeling that hit his gut. “Are you alright, Rebecca?”

There was a tightening at the corner of her lips, but it passed quickly. “Yes, your majesty. I’m fine.” 

That was wrong too. “You don’t have to call me that.” 

Her eyes flicked up to him, then back to the floor. “I’m sorry, sir. I thought that was the proper title. How should I call you?”

“I think it is the proper title, but we don’t have to use titles when we’re alone, do we? Now that we’re married.” He stood in front of her hopefully. He’d never wanted a wife, sure, but he’d hoped that they could at least be friends. This would be horrid if they couldn’t even do that. 

She hesitated for a moment. “What should I call you?”

“Well, my friends call me Sirius.” She looked at him again, one eyebrow slightly raised, and it was the most genuine emotion he’d seen on her so far. He let out a breathy chuckle. “Well, when we are alone and not standing on formalities, my closest friends will call me Sirius. I would like for you to call me Sirius when we’re in our room.” 

“Alright. I think I can do that,” she said. He didn’t miss that she still didn’t say it, but he hoped she would work on it. Sirius also noticed that the trembling had died down to a faint tremor, and he hoped that this meant he was gaining her trust. 

“What should I call you?” he asked. 

“I suppose whatever you want.” 

“Would it be alright if I called you Rebecca? Or if you don’t think it’s too personal, I could call you something like darling.” 

There was the tightening around her lips again, but it passed quickly again. “I would not be opposed to a term of endearment.”

“Excellent.” Sirius offered her his hand. “May I escort you to bed, my dear?”

[free-for-all-fics]

Phantom of the Opera and Beauty and the Beast Crossover AU Prompt! This was going to be a much, much, much shorter prompt, but then inspiration hit me very hard and it got very long, but it still doesn’t feel quite right for me to call this a full fic or oneshot. If you’re inspired by any ideas presented here, pls tag me and I’d love to read it! 🌹❤️🥀

The faerie hesitated. She knew tradition demanded that she curse the newborn prince for not being invited to the christening, but it wasn't his fault the messenger fell off his horse. She decided to get creative with the wording. Thus, instead of being cursed to die, Erik, the firstborn son to the king of France, was cursed with a deformed face. The prince would become more beautiful with every awful deed he committed, but the curse wouldn’t be broken until he found someone who could love him for his heart and marry him. He was disowned from the royal family and disinherited from the throne, decried as a “demon” or “living corpse”. He grew up with no knowledge of his true lineage and was instead raised by the servants and kept in the walls. The queen was fed lies that Erik died shortly after the christening, and she mourned for her baby boy. She never fully recovered from what she believed to be her firstborn son’s death, but later gave birth to another son, Prince Adam.

The king was known for ruling his kingdom with a cruel iron fist and raised the young prince to be selfish and arrogant, even forbidding the servants from ever questioning or objecting to his ways of raising his son. The prince used to live in the castle with his beloved mother as a sweet child until she died from an illness, which gave his cruel father the opportunity to harden his heart to become a more arrogant but effective ruler of the kingdom. He showed no concern over the loss of the queen, and led his son away from his wife's deathbed without any emotion. Erik became the court composer and exhibited a megalomaniacal personality, convinced he was a genius of music. He considered himself to be great and was never stingy with a compliment for himself. He was lugubrious and had not seemed to share the joys of the castellans and other courtesans. Erik spent much of his time isolating himself in the dark, too busy with concertos and operas of his own composition that he claimed would bring the house down.

“Bravo, bravo! Encore!”

“You approve?”

“Oh, maestro, it's magnificent!”

“Oh, come along. It's merely an opera...to bring the house down! Yes, I know...now, in the midst of my crescendo, I thought I heard merriment outside the window. Have a look see, will you?”

He had a deep hatred towards happiness or, at the very least, happy songs, as he preferred sad, depressing, mournful music. He was extremely superior, cunning, powerful, intelligent, and a bit misanthropic, as he considered humanity to be overrated. Though he was dashingly handsome with a debonair smile on the outside, he considered himself not only an Angel of Music, but a God of Deformity. Despite his face being perfect, he always wore a mask of impassivity when playing music for the public. He was surrounded by beautiful and wealthy women who vied for his attentions, but they were often incredibly shallow or boring, only looking to get into his bed for the night. He longed for more stimulating conversation, full of passion and intellect. The only way to keep himself sane while suffering through idle chat and pleasantries was to escape through his life’s work, treating his music as incomplete masterpieces he was eager to finish.

Following the king’s death, Erik learned of his lineage and the conditions of his curse, but never revealed these truths to Prince Adam. It was better for him to be a best friend and advisor to the prince, rather than a brother and prince himself. He blamed his father for his disfigurement, but he was secretly scared of his corpse and had refused to attend the funeral. As much as he hated the man, maybe his father was right when he used to say that ignorance is bliss.

In another kingdom, the prince fell ill. The widowed king dearly loved his last surviving son and heir, and doctors tried everything but he grew weaker and weaker. They told the king about a mythical rose that witches were rumored to use to cure any illness. The king searched the whole kingdom for the rose to no avail, and his campaign soon became a gruesome witch hunt. His path was lined with the witches he had slain, but the rose was nowhere to be found. Exhausted, bloody, and at his wit's end, the king came to a witch's house on the outskirts of his kingdom. He fell to his knees, begging the witch to help cure his son, and she agreed. The witch explained that the rose held tremendous power that could only very carefully be used for good, and instructed he only use a single petal. Using the whole bloom would only invite death. The prince began to recover, but discontent at the royal line had grown in the kingdom following the king’s bloody campaign. The next day, the king found his son murdered in his bed, and the last light holding his darkness at bay was snuffed out.

Heartbroken, the king turned to the bloom which had promised life, and instead saw it as an escape from his suffering. Lonely and depressed, he felt that all hope was lost after so much tragedy. He was too old to remarry and believed himself to have been cursed. He left his castle with nothing but the rose in hand, and wandered off into the icy wastes of a cruel and bitter winter, hoping to die somewhere his body could never be found and thus end the curse he believed he was put under. Instead, he came across the corpse of a woman who had frozen to death underneath a dead man hanging from a noose. In her arms, he found you, a still living baby girl who became blind due to being out in the elements. In his madness, you bore a remarkable resemblance to his late queen. He believed you to be his daughter and of his blood, so he took you in. The witch, having come to visit the king and the prince, looked at the nightmarish scene in despair. She raised a mountain on top of the king, erecting a dome of rock around the castle to imprison him and prevent him from wreaking further havoc across the land.

You grew up to be a virtuous, graceful beauty, but since you’d been blind since birth, no one had ever told you nor did you know that you were a princess. You lived in a beautiful enclosed garden within the king's castle, secluded from the world, in the care of loyal servants. The king feared you’d be targeted and killed if you were to ever learn you were the princess, so you never learned the truth until you came of age and were betrothed to marry Prince Adam of France. You were raised unaware of the circumstances surrounding the tragedies the king suffered or of his madness. You knew nothing of the witch. As far as you knew, as the daughter of the king, you never expected to inherit anything until a tragic accident caused the deaths of all your brothers and made you his sole legitimate heir. Now he expected you to act as a proper princess after being absent from your whole life.

You were a bright spot of happiness within the castle. You had a lovely singing voice and cared about everyone, living or dead, and everyone loved you in return. Your attendants would bring flowers and sing with you. Your garden was beautiful and full of a wide variety of blossoming wildflowers, except for roses. No matter what color roses were planted in your garden, they all turned out black in the end and smelled like death. Roses had become so rare that they were the most sought after flower in your kingdom, sold at high prices in black markets, under guard in national museums, etc.

You often declared your sadness, and your vague sense that you were missing something important that other people could experience. Your father insisted that you mustn’t discover your blindness and that your betrothed wasn’t to find out about this until after you were married. Your father had you and Prince Adam married by proxy before you had even met. A further ceremonial wedding and festivities followed by the ritual bedding would come later.

Your family had passed down a heirloom for generations: A hand mirror of medium size, framed in pure silver with ornate vine scrollwork. It was tradition that, upon their wedding day, each inheritor must look into the mirror at least once. It was said to be an enchanted mirror that could show you your soulmate, but your reflection never changed when it was your turn to look. However, ever since you’d looked into the mirror, you’d been haunted by a pale and faceless man that only you could see when you closed your eyes. He was there, behind your eyelids and inside your mind. The man moved in slow motion and, when you slept at night, you didn’t dream.

Your new husband, Prince Adam, arrived at the court with his best friend, Erik. The prince and Erik were warned by your loyal servants not to speak of light, colors, or anything of the sort with you. Wanting to bring you a wedding gift, the king arrived with a famed Persian physician who stated that you could be cured, but the physical cure would only work if you were psychologically prepared by being made aware of your own blindness. You appreciated the thought, but you had no will to see as others did and refused your father’s gift. You were born this way and loved yourself as you were. You believed you could see, you just saw things differently or saw so much more. The king supported your decision and refused the treatment, fearing for your happiness if the cure should fail after you’d learned what you were missing.

Erik found the entrance to your secret garden, ignoring the sign which threatened death to anyone who entered. He stumbled upon you singing without realizing who you were and instantly fell in love. Prince Adam, astounded by his friend’s behavior, was convinced you were a sorceress who had bewitched Erik. Prince Adam ordered him to leave but Erik was too entranced, so he departed with the promise he’d be back to save him.

“I am Maestro Erik, court composer and your most humble servant.”

You sang a magnificent duet together. Erik, who asked you to give him a certain flower as a keepsake, realized you were blind when you twice offered him different flowers with similar scents. You wished more than anything for a rose, but only black roses grew here and you didn’t know why. You had no concept of light, vision, or blindness. You fell in love with Erik after he explained light and color to you, believing him to be the faceless man from the mirror and your soulmate. When Prince Adam returned with your father, Erik admitted to seeing the warning sign at the garden entrance. The furious king threatened to execute Erik for revealing the truth to you, but spared him after Prince Adam realized you were his wife. He spoke for Erik, vouching for his character. The king relented, and let Erik return to France with you and your new husband.

Though Erik reciprocated your love, he felt conflicted and unworthy of you because of his curse and his deformities. He exclusively wore masks that covered his entire face. He only told you the color of his eyes, but nothing more. You loved him anyway, but you were born to privilege and with that came specific obligations. You were forced by your father to marry Prince Adam and, although you were spared the brunt of his cruelty, you still had to live year after year witnessing how monstrous your new husband was. From mistreating the castle servants to taxing the townspeople too high while doing nothing to help ease their hardships and burdens, you regretted your arranged marriage.

Despite being a princess, you were still a woman in a man’s world and could do nothing to free yourself from this loveless and miserable union. You and Prince Adam may have consummated your marriage out of duty, but you never shared his bed after that night and kept to separate rooms. If you had to keep Erik in secret and only love him in the dark, then that was enough for you. It had to be enough for you. Even if you longed for more. A life without love was no life at all, so you and Erik had no other choice. No matter how much you loved Erik, you could only love him at night and he had to depart before the lark sang. Every morning you’d have your kitchen maid procure a special tea for you to ensure you didn’t come to be with child. This was your fate and you’d accepted it, but Erik hadn’t. He’d brought up fantastical ideas of running away and eloping, but you wouldn’t hear of it.

“My father forbids me to end my marriage to the prince, Erik. Doing so, especially for a man like you, an untitled bachelor without family who hides his face behind a mask and accrues his wealth from dubious means, would ruin me. It’d cause a scandal so great I could never recover from it. I had to marry a man of substance, father said. A certain wealthy prince. In the eyes of the royal court, you won’t amount to anything but, in my eyes, you’re worth the whole lot of them put together. I fear I would’ve killed myself by now, were it not for the unbearable thought of leaving you behind. My heart can’t bear to inflict such cruelty onto you. You don’t deserve that. But I can’t run away with you, no matter how much I may want to. The wants and desires of a woman, even a princess, are irrelevant.”

As much as he hated it, he understood and reluctantly respected your decision. You and Erik were so in love. You saved him from his solitude, you were the light in the darkness of his existence, but you seemed to be kept apart by forces beyond your control. Still, the maestro gave you, his Angel of Music, a bundle of red roses with a fake one nestled inside, and told you that you'd be with him until the last one withered.

One winter’s night, an old beggar woman came to the castle and offered a single rose in return for shelter from the bitter cold. You, the mistress of the castle, showed kindness to the old woman as she let you feel the petals. They were so soft, softer than any flower you held before, and it smelled sweet, far sweeter than any other rose. You simply asked what color the rose was since you couldn’t see. When she told you it was red, you were amazed. Erik had told you about red when he gave you your first bouquet of roses, how it symbolized love and passion. He described it as the color of the sun or fire, bringing warmth to the hearts of men. Your kingdom had been cursed to only grow black roses that reeked of death, so to have a rose of such a vibrant color in full bloom, especially in the depths of this freezing winter, seemed like magic. You were about to let her inside and have a servant show her to a spare bedroom for the night so she could warm up and settle in, but your husband stopped you, cruelly snatching the rose from your hand and pulling you away from the old woman.

Repulsed by her haggard appearance, the prince sneered at the gift and turned the old woman away. But she warned him not to be deceived by appearances, for beauty is found within. And when he dismissed her again, the old woman's ugliness melted away to reveal a beautiful enchantress. The prince tried to apologize, but it was too late, for she had seen that there was no love in his heart, and as punishment, she transformed him into a hideous beast and placed a powerful spell on the castle, and all who lived there - even you, the princess who showed her compassion. She spared you as much as she could, not wanting your kindness to go unrewarded, but the prince and everyone else in the castle had to learn a lesson. She let you keep your human form, but erased your and Prince Adam’s memories of each other after your marriage so that you’d both have the chance to find true love in the future. However, by doing this, she inadvertently erased your memories of Erik since you only met and started your love affair after you and the prince were married. The enchantress had good intentions and thought she was doing you a great kindness, but her gift was a curse.

After the enchantress placed her curse upon the castle, turning Prince Adam into a beast and everyone else into household objects, he thought that you'd learn to love him since you were still blind and couldn’t see him. He thought you were disgusted with him because of his beastly appearance. In turn, you called him out on this, saying the real reason had to do with his arrogance and cruelty. You still despised him anyway because he was cruel, selfish, and unkind, with no love in his heart. Ever since then, the Beast showed nothing but shame for his actions and hated his cruel father for raising him to be a tyrant, even tearing up a portrait of himself out of anger. Even the servants themselves were in full regret of their reluctance to speak out against the king, implying that they truly despised him for his cruel nature. To you and Beast, you had never married and were only betrothed. Your fathers were both dead by this point, so you didn’t see any reason to go through with the wedding. You left him, claiming that people don't hate him because of his appearance, but because of how he acts, and that he's not some terrifying beast or powerful prince, but a pathetic human named Adam.

After you left, enchantment was the only good thing that happened to Erik. He was turned into a pipe organ and could use music to move nearby objects, but couldn’t move himself, as his new form was far too large and bolted to the wall. But he found himself more useful to his master as a composer and was willing to do everything in his power to stay in that new form. He developed powerful abilities, which he could release through his own music, and became obsessed with it. He wanted more. To possess this forbidden magic, Erik had to sacrifice a memory of equal value. His thoughts about you might’ve given him pause in the past, but you were gone and it didn’t seem like you were ever coming back. He no longer cared about losing his memories for a spell. Falling in love with you while you were married to his brother was painful enough, but his nights with you offered him some respite. He took solace in knowing neither you nor Adam were aware of this family secret, though this comfort was cold and tainted with bitterness. Your miserable marriage to his brother combined with your memory erasure and leaving was too much for Erik to bear, so he erased all his memories of you in exchange for these dark powers. His father was right after all! Ignorance was bliss.

The Beast considered him much more valuable as an advisor and confidant, and found his depressing arrangements of notable classical music somehow made him feel better. It was said that music soothes the savage beast, and they couldn't be more correct. Erik kept the Beast isolated from everyone else in the castle, and close to himself in order to prevent the spell from breaking, which had remained for 10 long years. Erik was a good talker, as he was able to captivate the spirits, to insinuate his hypnotic music, to convince everybody with honeyed words and a soft voice. He appeared to the Beast as his "best friend", but he was actually manipulating him because he wanted to remain as a pipe organ forever and sought some attention. However, this attitude was only displayed because he was quite afraid to fade in the background, afraid that he’d be forgotten. He wasn’t appreciated by anyone as the inhabitants of the castle seemed to ignore him at the least, except for the Beast. The Beast came to him often to hear his soothing music, which would ease his tormented soul.

“Your music is the only thing that helps me forget.”

“Don't worry, old friend. I'm here for you, just as I have been, just as I always will be.”

The more magic Erik used, the more he deviated from being human, not just in body but in mind as well. Moreover, the type of magic he used influenced the changes that occurred within him. He slowly became corrupted by his own desperate desire to be loved. Without you by his side, Erik became arrogant, evil, sarcastic, manipulative, acrimonious, obstreperous, and somewhat paranoid. Under the curse, he composed tirelessly his next opera, “Don Juan Triumphant”, whose sole purpose was to make the castle collapse.

“Erik! Stop the noise!”

“Noise? Noise?! This is my masterpiece.”

You’d lived in castles and palaces among the richest people of any age. But never, never had you stood in greater luxury than when you moved into this quaint little town and lived the life of a simple peasant, surrounded by townspeople who didn’t know who you once were. You loved the hustle and bustle of running errands and doing daily chores, you loved being part of a community and helping others, you loved wearing much simpler dresses, you loved getting dirty and feeling tired in a good way from a hard day’s work. You befriended a lovely woman named Belle, who was about your age, and her father, Maurice. Though they both seemed to be the talk of the town and considered “odd”, you came to love them like family.

Maurice was a musician who was traveling to a music festival to perform. But since the curse, the world had lost its music and melody. All composers in town became superstitious, believing in a “Curse of the 9th Symphony”, its origins unknown. Maurice was a skeptic and, having premiered his 8th symphony last night on stage, a mysterious hooded figure handed him a letter after the performance. “After your 9th,” it said, “I will return. He has a job for you.” Maurice then went missing while on his way home, shortly after his 9th symphony. Philippe returned alone. When Belle went in search of her missing father, you insisted on going with her, not wanting her to get lost in the woods like Maurice might’ve. These woods were dangerous, especially at night when the wolves came out. When you came up to the tall iron gates and Belle found Maurice’s hat, you cursed to yourself. Of course you’d be brought back here. Escape was an illusion, it seemed. Oh, cruel fate, would this nightmare ever end?

While in the castle, Maurice had come across a silver music box. The music box was empty, the cords cut yet, somehow, a song started playing when he opened it. How was this accomplished? He fiddled with the music box and wound it up, making the princess figurine spin in a dance. Unbeknownst to him, it was something never seen in at least a decade. It had been a wedding present for you but, after the curse was cast, the Beast’s heart stayed dark from that moment on. Its melody brought back the Beast’s bad memories; all his mistakes, all his regrets, and all his pain. For the master of the castle, it was a Pandora’s Box that contained many horrors. Each note of that lovely melody seemed to deepen the Beast’s anguish. He couldn't bear to hear it. When Maurice opened it, the Beast could hear it from the West Wing and flew into a rage. He picked up Maurice, carried him out of the room and slammed the door, plunging the den into darkness. For daring to trespass and open your music box, Maurice was Beast’s prisoner, sentenced to rot in the dungeons forever.

When Belle took her father’s place as the Beast’s prisoner, you insisted on staying with her and the Beast let you, giving you your old room back. While the Beast had destroyed his own room, yours remained untouched and was just as you left it 10 years ago. You didn’t tell Belle about the curse nor your complicated history with the Beast because, as much as you may not have seen eye to eye in your past turbulent relationship, you still believed he could change. He deserved that chance to love and be loved in return. You worried that Beast's psychological state would become increasingly feral the longer he was under the curse, such that he would eventually lose his last vestiges of humanity and become completely wild if the spell couldn’t be broken. You wanted the spell to be broken, if not for his sake, then for everyone else in the castle. Everyone, even you, played against Erik, trying to provoke love between Belle and the Beast to break the spell. But Erik wouldn’t be deterred so easily, and continued plotting and scheming in the shadows of the West Wing.

“Trust me. Humanity is entirely overrated. Before the enchantment, there was no need for my particular brand of genius. But now, the master needs my melodies to feed his tormented soul. I am his confidant and his best friend...and I won't let some peasant girl ruin it for me! I will see to it that this blossoming love withers on the vine.”

Neither you nor Erik could remember each other, but you both had this indescribable feeling that wouldn’t go away. You weren’t sure what it was exactly. Even before you officially met again, it almost felt like a pull, a thought trying to break out from the back of your minds, or a strange sense of Deja Vu. Erik hated it with a passion and played his music loudly to drown it out, while you were just confused. While exploring the castle and reacquainting yourself with everything, You could’ve sworn you heard a man’s voice hypnotizing you, seducing you, urging you to enter the West Wing. The Beast’s room. But you couldn’t possibly! It was forbidden! The Beast had warned both you and Belle! And yet…

“Yes, my dear. Come to me.”

You felt like you’d been in this room before. A strange sense of familiarity washed over you as you felt around the walls to guide yourself, but for some indiscernible reason, you hated this room and everything in it. Avoiding broken furniture and other obstacles in your way, you felt fresh air coming from an open window and approached the balcony. You felt around a small table until your hand brushed against something cold and made of glass. A bell jar. When you touched it, you felt warmth and light emanating from underneath it. Next to it, you picked up something cold and heavy. You felt the engravings and markings decorating the frame and handle, and your fingers tapped against the glass of its face. Your handheld mirror that your father once gave you. But it was glowing just like the bell jar and you could hear strange crackling noises coming from it, almost like lightning. What had the enchantress done to it?

You were about to inspect it further, but you could hear music coming from an adjacent room. The door was left ajar and, when Erik noticed you were looking at him, he immediately doused his candles and fell silent. Wandering over to the organ, you spotted a half-finished set of sheet music set aside, complete with inkwell and quill. Curious, you sat down at the organ and began reading it.

“Don’t touch that!” Erik’s voice snapped, seemingly coming from nowhere and scaring you half to death as you were chased away from the organ. You looked around frantically and reached out your hands, confused when you felt no one around you. You thought maybe it was a ghost or ventriloquism, until you realized it was the pipe organ itself that was talking to you, towering over you with a scrutinizing glare that you couldn’t see but could feel. Right. Enchanted castle. You’d never gotten used to it back then, and you still wouldn’t. Not now, not ever. But you felt a strange sense of longing when you heard his voice. He scoffed in disgust whenever you mentioned love or breaking the spell.

“A daring woman, cursed with such beauty but never able to see it, a pity even. A beauty such as yourself, meets beasts in dark hallways and forbidden rooms? An act of love or lust, so you say? Beasts know nothing of the sort. Empty your heart, cast it aside, I say. Dreadful beasts we are, no less? Beauty may fool a blind man, but no beast!”

Months passed. The enchanted rose continued to wilt. Christmas was coming. The Beast, wanting to get a present for Belle, ordered Erik to compose a song for her, much to Erik’s disgust. The girl was evil. She held the master from Erik’s grasp. She filled his head with dreams of love and hope! Yech!

“I want you to compose a song. It's a present…for Belle. And make it happy!”

“Oh, but happiness is so depressing! What's next? Love songs?! Wedding marches?! It's all that girl's fault.”

He had fabricated another curse, a false one to orchestrate distrust within the nearby villages so that the townspeople would either ban music and/or turn on each other. If he instilled fear and superstition so there was no competition, then he’d definitely be the best musician in the world! His plot to get Maurice killed had failed, but he could still go after his daughter. She was a threat to his plans. He twisted Belle’s words and emotionally manipulated her so she’d want to get a Christmas tree in the Black Forest beyond a frozen lake. He lured her away from the castle, and did everything in his power so she’d never come back. While she was away, Erik told the Beast that Belle had abandoned him, thus stoking Beast's anger. He then tried to goad the Beast into destroying the enchanted rose, the symbol of the curse, but the Beast ultimately decided not to when a rose petal landed on the storybook from Belle, thus allowing him to regain his senses. Erik’s plan to drive Belle and the Beast apart almost worked, but was ultimately foiled by the Beast.

“So, Beast gets girl, and it's a happy ending for everyone. Enchantment lifted...and Erik fades into the background. No longer important...no longer needed…I THINK NOT!”

Enraged at the failure of his plan to break up Belle and the Beast's relationship, Erik lost what was left of his sanity and gave into his destructive and suicidal thoughts that had plagued his mind for years. He had no regard for his own life as he was willing to take everyone's lives in the castle along with his own to ensure that the spell remained intact. With the Beast having broken free of his hypnotic control, Erik believed he had nothing else to live for and attempted to bring the castle down with his loud music, playing “Don Juan Triumphant” more intensely to rupture the walls and shatter the windows. He shook the walls to pieces, debris fell, the floors began to separate and created perilous chasms.

“Maestro, stop! What do you think you're doing?”

“Don't you see? They can't fall in love if they're DEAD! You could've joined me, but I see my triumph is a solo act! We can remain as we are, FOREVER AND EVER!”

“ERIK! ENOUGH!”

Erik was finally defeated when the Beast ripped out his keyboard from him, which ceased his contact with his pipes. In a blind rage, Erik tore himself free of the wall and began to collapse, effectively killing himself as he crashed to the ground, destroyed. Despite Erik’s true colors being exposed and his diabolical plans foiled, the Beast mourned Erik’s demise, as he still considered him to be his closest friend.

After the curse was broken, everyone was turned back into humans, and yours and Prince Adam’s memories were restored. You both remembered that you were technically still married and thus had extramarital affairs - you before the curse, and he during the curse. But this realization wasn’t awkward. What was there to forgive? You and Adam were forced into marriage by your fathers and each fell in love with another, it happens. You just considered yourselves even. It took lots of paperwork, but with his signature here, and your signature there, you and Prince Adam officially dissolved your marriage, much to both yours and his relief. You let bygones be bygones after your divorce and considered yourselves friends, no hard feelings. The prince assured you that you’d always be welcome here in his castle, and it was your choice whether you wanted to stay, return to your kingdom, or go elsewhere.

While everyone was downstairs celebrating in the ballroom, you went back to the West Wing, to the prince’s room where Erik was. You remembered him. Oh, your poor darling! Your dear Erik had suffered so much sadness and so much pain, surrounded by people yet completely alone in the castle for all those years. He was human again but he laid deathly still, face down on the floor. You took out the music box and it played that familiar melody, your song. The enchantress appeared one last time and used her magic to resurrect Erik. She couldn’t condone his abuse of forbidden and evil magic, but she’d seen for herself he’d been punished enough. She asked for your forgiveness. She only ever wanted to give you a chance to find true love and happiness, but she didn’t realize you already had it. Consider this parting gift from her her repentance for inadvertently cursing you. She wouldn’t bend or break the laws of life and death for just anyone, but true love was the most magical gift of all, so she did it once for Belle and Adam, and again for you and Erik. She would no longer interfere with either yours and Erik’s or Belle and Adam’s happy endings. You needn’t do anything to repay her, just go on and live happily ever after.

When Erik woke up, his memories of you were restored. You were discovered by the prince, and he was so relieved and ecstatic to see his best friend alive. Erik finally pledged his love for you in front of the prince, not caring that you were blind and married, unaware you had already ended your marriage contract moments before. The prince gave you to Erik with his blessing, not that you ever needed it, but you and Erik appreciated it. Erik moved into your bedchamber where he would often awaken to the sun streaming through the curtains and the lark singing, just like he had always dreamed. No more hiding under the cloak of night, no more sneaking through secret passageways. He relished in finally sharing your bed, but he had a difficult time adjusting to being human again. He still experienced trauma from the curse, and was plagued by nightmares at night. He confided in you his guilt and regrets, his fears and anxieties, and all his insecurities while you gently rubbed his back, drew patterns on his chest, or held his hand. He felt like he maybe didn’t deserve to be this happy after all he had done.

“It's just...it was different when we were all cursed objects. When we could move around freely and act however we wanted to. When I could just play my music. When I knew exactly how to get the master to smile and relax with my music. Even if it meant we'd be cursed forever, I was happier as a pipe organ." 

“And it’s going to take time, my love, but we can learn to be happy again, as humans. As husband and wife, if you’ll still have me. I’m sorry for all that I’ve put you through. I’m sorry for making you wait so long.”

“Now that I finally have you in my arms again, ten years didn’t feel long at all. I would wait a thousand years more and still take you to be my bride.”

The four of you eventually held a double wedding in the castle. As soon as the rings were exchanged and Erik kissed his bride, the curse placed upon him at birth was finally broken. But when the bright light encompassing him had dissipated, instead of a handsome man, his face was still that of a living corpse. His eyes were so deep that one could hardly see the fixed pupils, just two big black holes, as in a dead man's skull. His skin, which was stretched across his bones like a drumhead, wasn’t white, but a nasty yellow. His nose was so little worth talking about that one couldn’t see it side-face; and the absence of that nose was a horrible thing to look at. All the hair he had was three or four long dark locks on his forehead and behind his ears. But you saw nothing ugly in your husband at all, he was absolutely perfect. He was beauty itself, and you didn’t need your eyesight to see that.

“My love, are you okay?”

“Well, yes. But I don’t understand. I’m supposed to be beautiful.”

“Oh, Erik, but you are beautiful.”

The double wedding was a grander celebration than the one that was held after the curse was lifted. The festivities lasted an entire week, and you all sang together of the magical new world now visible to you as the court and townspeople rejoiced.