#monarchy au

[didderd]

You don't have to accept this request but can you draw a fell?

:3 a Prince Red for you <3

[miryum]

Foundling Villa- Chapter 15

Royal!Charles Leclerc x Reader. Princess Y/n is arranged to marry Prince Charles. There will be many ups and downs that the author hasn’t planned out yet, but read along to find out more! (Yes, I know that sounds super cheesy) Warnings per chapter. Hope you guys enjoy!

Tag list: @notleclerc @sunsumonner @saturnsrinqs @livster @chonkybonky @eau-rougee @champomiel @justyouraverageeverydaysimp @multifandom-loser

Warnings: smut 18+ minors dni (p in v, nudity, f receiving oral and fingering, masturbation, unprotected sex) and swearing

This chapter can be skipped if you’re uncomfortable- no major plot points other than the smut will take place. (That’s why it’s literally just the smut)

Okay, I know I just posted a couple hours ago, but I had ideas for this chapter and I just had to write it and here we are... Hope you guys like it! 😁 😅

ao3 link  next chapter>>

Charles raised a brow. “Would you like to continue the wedding night?”

Your heart started beating a little quicker. “Lead the way.”

Charles scooped you up and carried you over the threshold of your room. You laughed loudly, hitting him lightly in the chest. “What?” he winked. ”I have to make up for what we missed.” You rolled your eyes, a fluttering erupting in your stomach. 

Charles set you gently on the bed, pressing kisses down your collarbone. You pulled his face back towards yours, needing to feel his lips. Charles discarded his shirt, hissing at the cut along his arm. You stilled. “Are you sure we should be doing this? You’re hurt, Charles.”

He shook his head. “I wouldn’t stop this for all the riches in the land. It’s just a small graze. Nothing I can’t handle.”

Your hesitations were cut off with another kiss. Shrugging your robe off, you were desperate to get rid of the layers separating you and Charles. Already, you could feel heat spread along your body, circulating at the bottom of your stomach.

Your husband helped you take off your sleepwear and soon you lay to him bear, save your underwear. “Beautiful, cherié. Simply gorgeous,” Charles uttered, taking you in. 

You ran your hands down his chest, feeling the muscles and curves that you had the sole pleasure of exploring. “I could say the same to you.” 

“May I take care of you?” Charles whispered. You nodded in reply, not trusting your voice.

Charles’ mouth trailed down your body, mumbling worships and reverence. He paused at one of your breasts, glancing up at you before taking it in his mouth and swirling his tongue over the sensitive bud. You gasped as he pulled at it softly, the feeling of his teeth unexpected. He repeated the action with your other breast, putting as much care and love as he had the first. 

More open-mouthed kisses trailed down your stomach stopping right above your underwear. “Y/n, are you sure? I need you to be positive you want this.”

“I want this, Charlie,” you insisted. “Honestly, your need for consent is making you more attractive.”

Charles chuckled, eyes darkening. “Call me that again.”

“What?” Your lips curved into a smile. “Charlie?” Charles groaned, hips jerking forward, desperate for friction. A spark ignited in your chest, now knowing the power you held over him. “Or… would you like me to call you… My Prince?” 

“Cherié,” Charles warned, lifting an eyebrow. “Be careful. You have no idea what you do to me.”

“Show me.” 

A moan filled the room, Charles’ head falling back. You admired the curve in his neck. “As you wish, my wife.”

His fingers curled around your underwear, tugging it off. You felt the cold air hit your bare skin and Charles murmured in appreciation, hands gracing over your hips. 

“Please, Charles.”

“Anything you want, cherié.” Charles slowly swept a finger up between your folds. You whined, wanting more. “So wet for me, hm?” Charles muttered, “so ready for me.”

His finger smoothed a faint circle over your clit and you begged, “Please, Charles, please!”

“No, princess, that’s not my name.” Charles shook his head, growing hard at the sight underneath him.

“Fine,” you conceded. “Charlie, please touch me.”

“There we go.” Charles went and licked a stripe around your bundle of nerves, moving down to tease your hole. You gasped at the sudden contact, hips bucking because you needed more. 

Charles continued to suck along your clit and you grabbed at his hair, tugging slightly. Charles let out a moan that vibrated along your folds and your breaths became shallower as you felt your heart rate pick up. Your walls clenched around nothing and you said, “Ch- Charlie, I think I’m almost there!”

You started to complain as Charles moved away from you, wanting the feeling of his mouth back. “Not yet,” he said. “I want you to come around me.” You realised what he meant when he started undoing his pants. 

During your wedding night, you had been too embarrassed and shy to look Charles in the eye when he was handling his cock. But now, Charles lifted your chin up to meet his gaze. “Do you want me to continue?”

“Yes,” you licked your lips and Charles’ gaze was drawn to it. “But shouldn’t I return the pleasure?” 

Charles’ chuckled. “Y/n, you don’t have to ‘return the favour’. Today is about you. And besides, if you truly want to, you can take charge next time.”  

Next time. A promise. It made you smile. 

You let out a desperate sound as Charles’ tip brushed your entrance. It didn’t hurt as much as last time, but adjusting to his size still stung a bit. He waited until your hips started rocking against his to match your pace. He could barely hold back a groan as he increased the speed. Using one hand to grip the headboard, Charles thrusted deeply into you, making you moan. You inhaled sharply when you felt his other hand glide down to your clit and start rubbing small circles onto the bundle of nerves. You cried out and your walls clenched around him. 

“Shit, Y/n, I don’t know how much longer I can go if you keep doing that,” Charles sucked in a breath. 

“Charlie, I think I’m about to come!” You felt the tight coil of pleasure in you build up, finally snapping, and you came around Charles. His breathing became irregular and his hips jerked back and forth. You could tell he was on the verge of joining you in ecstasy. You reached up and placed a kiss right under his ear, gently sucking on the tender spot. Charles shivered and let out a loud moan and with one last thrust, he filled you up. 

Slowly, he pulled back from you, panting. Your chest rose and fell and you tried to calm your heart. Charles didn’t pull back immediately, instead, he rested his head upon your shoulder. 

“I- I liked that a lot better than before,” you commented. 

He let out a chuckle, dragging a finger along your jaw. “You’ll get to experience it whenever you want, cherié.”

Instead of agreeing, you simply said, “I love you.”

“And I love hearing you say that,” Charles kissed your cheek. “I love you too, my princess.”

[yakuly]

Gente 👉👈

Se por algum a mcaso eu apagar a publicação de "monarchy" e postar em outro momento, vcs não ficam bravas, nem tentam me matar? E se eh apagar e postar de novo, vocês prometem que vão ler de novo?

Pq assim...NÃO ERA PRA TER POSTADO! Mas o timblr me tombou, e tô desde esse dia em completa agonia por que não foi no meu momento (eu sei que é loucura, mas sinto q não era a hora de postar). Aí eu só queria saber mesmo a opinião de vcs sjnsj

[dimneo1010]

Oughh sorry for being dead for SO LONG I've gotten really into MP100 recently so I didn't really draw so here's my frist ever real fanart

(bonus Monarchy AU doodles + an edit)

[nite-eyes]

today my bf (bookseller) told me that someone came in looking for a book called "killer student" and he was like "uhhhh...no I don't think we have anything with that title??" and they were like "hang on, that's not it..." and looked something up on their phone and came back and said "actually it's called assassin's apprentice"

[peppymintdreams]

Faithful to the King

Lord Diavolo x MC

The kingdom you called home had been nothing more than a hollow shell for as long as you could remember. The palace gleamed with wealth, each opulent room a monument to corruption, while the people who toiled in the fields and villages were starving, dying under the weight of the royal family's greed. The king and his court were cruel beyond words, their hearts blackened by decadence. It was no secret that they lived lavishly off the sweat and blood of their people. The royal family's cruelty was the very foundation of the kingdom’s decay.

You had grown up in the kingdom’s shadow, a "peasant" by status, though you carried blood that was tied to the higher ranks of the village. Despite your position, you had watched as your people were ground into the dirt. The kingdom needed a savior—a liberator. But who would dare to challenge the monarchy? Who could even hope to do so?

The answer, you found, lay in the realm of the unknown—the Devildom.

You had learned of dark magic, of ancient rituals whispered by those who had dared to walk the forbidden paths. Your desperation had pushed you to study these lost arts, to summon an entity powerful enough to topple the evil that reigned in your kingdom. There was only one being you knew of who could accomplish such a feat: Diavolo, the King of Hell himself.

You knew the price. You had heard the rumors. A deal with a devil was never free, but what choice did you have? If you were to free the kingdom, you would need power—unimaginable power.

On that fateful night, you stood alone in the deepest recesses of your cottage, the air thick with the scent of burning herbs and candles. You muttered the incantation, your voice trembling but determined. The symbols etched into the floor began to glow as a low hum filled the air. With every word, you could feel the air grow colder, darker, as though the very fabric of reality was bending to your will.

And then, before you, a rift tore open in the fabric of the world. The ground trembled, and from the darkness, he emerged.

Diavolo.

The King of the Devildom. A figure that was both mesmerizing and terrifying, his presence commanding and undeniable. His golden eyes fixed on you with an intensity that made your heart race, his lips curling into a smile that was both sinister and entrancing.

"Ah, so you’ve summoned me," Diavolo’s voice was rich, deep, like thunder rolling in the distance. "A mortal, no less. You must be desperate, to reach out to me."

You didn’t flinch. "I seek your help," you said, your voice steady despite the shiver running down your spine. "The royal family in my kingdom is evil. They care nothing for their people. They live in decadence, while the kingdom crumbles beneath them. I want to see them fall. I want to see my people free."

A glint of amusement flashed in Diavolo's eyes, but there was something else—a dark interest, a spark of curiosity. He tilted his head, regarding you with a mixture of admiration and caution.

"Bold," he mused, stepping closer. "And what do you offer in return for my help? The price is never small when dealing with someone like me."

"I offer you my soul," you declared, your voice unwavering, though your heart ached at the weight of your words. "In exchange for your aid in bringing down the royal family and claiming the kingdom for myself. I am willing to bind my fate to you, Lord Diavolo, if you will help me."

Diavolo’s smile widened, his sharp fangs glinting in the dim light. "A soul for the fall of a kingdom," he mused, as though testing the weight of your words. "I find your offer... tempting. But are you certain? The cost of such a pact is not one easily undone. You will be mine—body, soul, and everything in between. You will belong to me forever."

You took a deep breath, knowing that the moment you sealed this deal, there would be no turning back. "I would rather be yours, Diavolo, than live in a kingdom ruled by monsters. I will make them pay for their sins."

His laughter rang out then, rich and dark, a sound that sent a shiver of both fear and excitement through you. "Very well, mortal," Diavolo said, his voice soft but laced with power. "Your soul is mine. And in exchange, I shall grant you the power to destroy the royal family and claim the throne as your own. But know this: you will have no other master. You will walk by my side, as my consort, my partner in both power and desire."

You felt a surge of energy, a sudden rush that left your senses reeling as the pact was sealed. The magic crackled in the air, binding you to him in a way that left your very soul trembling. The weight of your decision settled over you like a cloak, but it was not one of regret. It was a cloak of purpose.

Diavolo's eyes gleamed with dark satisfaction. "When you claim the throne, remember this moment," he said, his voice low and dangerous. "Remember who made it possible. And remember that it is I who holds the strings of your fate, mortal."

As the rift between the realms closed, you were left standing alone in the aftermath, your mind racing with the enormity of what had just transpired. But the excitement, the anticipation of what was to come, burned brighter than any fear you had. The royal family would fall, and you would be the one to deliver their doom. The kingdom would be free. And once it was, Diavolo’s kingdom would have its own place in your heart, and you would have no regrets.

But as the darkness of your pact settled in, you knew one thing for certain: nothing would ever be the same. You had given your soul, and now, you would be bound to the devil himself. And yet, despite the price, a strange thrill coursed through your veins.

You would bring them to their knees. You would bring them all to their knees. And in the end, you would rule by Diavolo’s side.

The throne would be yours, and the kingdom would be free—forever.

[llitchilitchi]

played around with some monarchy restoration Karl designs

[c-kiddo]

scottish au caduceus implies that ludinus daleth took part in the highland clearances (instead of doing fantasy chernobyl)

[kindred-spirit-93]

au-niverse expansion

hello had a thought this morning (i need to stop having them lol) abt a potential new angle of the oikoi au where hermione is sent to live with penelope when helen is abducted!

she knows her 'auntie' penelope and refuses to let anyone else be her primary caretaker. her father tries to reason with her to stay at home where she grew up, where its familiar, and where everyone knows her and will seek to protect her, but she refuses.

he cant stand seeing the tears that well in her eyes, just like helens. he arranges a convoy to send her and a very apologetic letter to the king and queen of ithaca, who have their own newborn to worry about.

shenanigans ensue. idk i really want to explore the 10 years of troy from penelopes perspective esp ruling a kingdom while raising her son (and now niece) and keeping herself together. and also another 10 years that is much darker and heavier and tackles her trauma bc she too became a monster rawr rawr rawr at some point, just differently.

--

and then hermione is sent on her merry way home when menelaus and helen send for her after writing a letter confirming their victory and shipwreck i think it was (diomedes had kindly written to her telling her the war was over and the ships had set sail homewards but she hadnt heard from anyone and the horizons were empty).

anyway now with newfound hope odysseus is merely having sat nav issues lol. she loads hermiones ship with gifts to welcome helen home including plenty of fabric and pieces of her own design

(something i reeeally want to add lol is that telemachus goes with her after winning a bet with penelope to let him go, and well he is his fathers son so he trots off and has a grand week with his aunt and uncle. menelaus tells him of his fathers cunning blah blah tele is even more pumped to meet his dad omg poor bby).

and then when he returns he suddenly finds several guests?? penelope is shook and trying to handle the situation with grace. tele is half hiding behind her and holding onto her robes, a hand is on his head and the other over he heart.

the 'guests' only increase in number and nothing is quite the same. at least his aunt ctimene and cousin eupehmia are still here. only a few years down the line they too are forced away and it really is tele and pen against 108 horrid men whos audacity only grows with their appetites.

AND THEN when tele goes to search for his dad the gut punch is the parallel of menelaus being like son ur father is the most badass lil shit ive ever known to son idk how to tell you but but hes not coming home. idk lots of crying here

the point is its all told through penelopes perspective and several external povs bc those are fun and give u, well, new perspectives XD

currently toturing all my blorbos. let them weep (harder)

@notsolonedesert hi >:3

[rainrayne]

They are here! Malum Monarchy! Civilians + Royalties (click for higher quality)

(⁠人⁠ ⁠•͈⁠ᴗ⁠•͈⁠) Close-ups and some messages underneath!

Just to be clear from the start! If you are planning to make fanart you can absolutely insert your headcanons! Like changing their eye colors, body types (excluding the characters that are canonically fat, DON'T make them skinny.) (ahem ahem Buggs), adding moles, freckles, scars, I really don't mind! Have fun!

The adults and the hall monitors will have reference sheets too but not for now.

Close ups (higher quality):

This took me two weeks to finish and I'm so happy it's finally finished!! Please tell me your favorites (if you want to) I'll be really happy!

Also Happy April fools! even tho I don't have a joke to make.

[kit-screams-into-the-future]

Okay I saw more of your art and had to come back (if it’s okay)

Maybe this time….King Marty? Like in a kings outfit with the septor

and crown and stuff? Idk

no problem at all! i'm just happy you enjoy :D

anyone with any remote knowledge of historical dress from any vague period or region please avert your eyes.

[didderd]

May I smooch prince red 😳

Red will happily give out smooches. :3

[miryum]

Okay okay okay I feel like a genius and I know this is a lot and I’m so so sorry I just think it’s make a really compelling story!

Princess!reader is betrothed to Arthur. Neighbouring kingdoms with palaces very close together (this is important I promise). She’s like six months younger than him and it’s been set up since she was born. So she arrives at the palace, looking absolutely stunning, and she’s terrified. To his credit Arthur is very nice, very sweet. He shows her around, introduces her to people, makes sure she’s comfortable, etc..

But how could she possibly be looking at him when the middle brother is the same young boy she would secretly meet over the summer, the first boy she ever liked, kissed, and danced with around the forest before they both grew up? The boy she always thought she’d marry? The boy who is now sneaking into her chambers to kiss her absolutely breathless.

The same boy she still loves…

@bright-shiningstar I am SO SORRY that this didn't come out sooner, but every single time I looked at this request it literally made me squeal out loud, so I had to make sure it was perfect!! I think I rewrote it at least five times, so I hope you like the finished product! Thank you so much for requesting!

Buddies in the F1 world: @hey-kae @vinvantae

Warnings: Some swearing, probably some grammatical errors

Day 0

“Y/n, do you remember the Leclerc’s?” Your parents had sat you down after dinner. 

“Yes, has the agreement gone through?” Your parents had spent most of your life drafting a treaty with the Leclerc’s, offering your hand in marriage as a staple. Prince Lorenzo was married to a young queen of a neighbouring kingdom, joining the two realms. Prince Charles was deemed too old for you. So that left the youngest. Now that you were old enough, the treaty was solidified.

“We got confirmation today,” your mother said, smiling proudly. She was so pleased to see her eldest daughter married off. “Prince Arthur is officially your fiancé!”

Your younger sister leaned into your side, trying to be a rock of comfort. You weren’t completely angry about being forced into marriage (the few times you had visited the Leclerc patriarch and matriarch, they had been kind and enchanting to you. You had no reason to think that their sons would be any different.) but you were petrified. You would be moving away from your family and home. You didn’t know what lay in front of you.

“And you’re leaving tomorrow…” your mother tied the strings of your distress.

“What?” Your sister, Megan, cried out. She latched onto you, pulling you close. “That’s not fair! Why can’t she stay for another week?”

“Because the wedding is in a week,” your father explained. “The Leclerc’s have it all set up. Luckily, they’re kind enough to give you a week to acclimate yourself to their family. Chin up, darling,” he said to you. “This is a joyous occasion.”

“I mean, I would’ve preferred the middle son,” your mother whispered. “More status and closer in line for the throne, but the youngest is acceptable.” Your father rolled his eyes. 

“Why don’t you retire for the night?” your father prompted you. “You need to look your best tomorrow.”

“I can’t believe you’re leaving so soon!” Your sister dragged you away from your parents. “I thought I would get more time with you.” She hummed sadly.

“Megan, it’ll be alright. I’ll make sure you’re invited to the wedding.” You felt odd reassuring her, wondering if it should be the other way around. 

“Oh, that’s right,” Megan groaned. “You’ll be Princess Y/n Leclerc in a week. That doesn’t sound right at all.”

“Why don’t we have a sleepover, hm?” You needed to distract Megan with something else, otherwise her worries would double your anxiety and stress. “Just like old times.”

“Yes!” Megan squealed and ran ahead of you. Her slippers padded down the hall. “I’ll grab my pillow!”

You grasped at this moment of silence to try and calm your racing heart. Unbeknownst to your parents and sister, the marriage to Prince Arthur wasn’t the biggest of your concerns. Your breathing was uneven and you palmed your eyes, getting rid of any semblance of tears. 

Were you ready to see Charles again?

***

You couldn’t breathe. Tears and snot obscured your face and clogged your airways. The rational part of you that would’ve been saying, someone would realise you were missing and come find you, was drowned in your fears of, oh my gosh I’m going to die alone and have to spend my few remaining days eating tree bark! 

You weren’t sure how you had run this far, but you were sure it was to be your doom. If only you had stopped by the stables to grab your pony, Newt. If only you hadn’t strayed from the path. If only you had turned around once the sun started to set. 

Internally chastising yourself, you sat down at the base of a tree. You knew that yelling would be no use and you should probably conserve your energy. You wished that you had paid more attention to those survival lessons the knights had taught you. 

“Um, excuse me?” 

Your head shot up at the sound. “Who’s there?” you called out, jumping to your feet.

“My name is Charles,” the young voice explained. You couldn’t see the owner. “Are you alright? I heard someone crying.”

“Where are you?” you demanded to know.

A boy, a couple years older than you, maybe seven or eight, stepped out from behind a tree. “Hi,” he said, smiling. He wanted to show he wasn’t a threat. “Can I help you? You seem lost.”

“Yes, I am!” You couldn’t help a new onslaught of tears. “I was walking and I guess I took a wrong turn? Are your parents somewhere around here? It’s almost dark and I need to get back.”

“My parents are at home.” Charles prompted, “but I can walk you home?”

“I don’t want you to get lost, too.” You shook your head. “Can I come with you back to your village? I’m sure there’s transportation I could find.”

“Oh, no.” Charles shrugged, causally leaving out the part that he was a prince, and if he wanted, could snap his fingers and order a ride home for you. “It’s alright. I know this forest like the back or my hand. Where do you live?”

“Uh…” You wiped your nose on your dress. “I live at the L/n castle.”

“That’s not far away at all!” Charles smiled and you grinned back, already infected by his charms. “Did you know this forest is actually the border of Enza and Haas? I don’t live that far away, either. Do you know about the Leclerc’s?”

“Yeah, my- the King and Queen,” you corrected yourself quickly. “They’re friends with them.” You weren’t sure why your five-year-old self wasn’t telling this new friend that you were royalty. Maybe you didn’t want to scare him away? 

“My family’s house is right next to their palace,” Charles said.

“We’re practically neighbours!” You stood up and beamed.

“Can I walk you home, neighbour?” Charles giggled at his joke. You nodded and grasped his hand in the trusting way only children can. 

It turned out that the Enza palace and the Haas castle weren’t far away from each other. Once the pair of new friends realised this, they made plans to meet up more often. At the Haas gates, you made sure Charles would be safe and get home quickly. He reassured you that he had explored the forest for hours and would never get lost. He promised to meet you the next day at the clearing where you had met so you knew he wasn’t being mauled to death by a pack of wolves. 

Little did you know that a great friendship and a great love was suddenly born.

Day 1

“Y/n. Y/n.” Megan placed a hand on your bouncing leg. “You're practically shaking the whole carriage. I know you’re nervous, and this is an awful thing to say, but maybe try to hide it?” 

“Sweetheart, what I believe your sister is saying, is ‘calm down’.” Your father held a piece of parchment and peered over it at you. “This is nothing to worry about.”

“Your father and I had the exact same disposition when we were your age,” your mother smiled softly at you. “I know the uncertainty you’re feeling, but trust me, it will get better.”

No it won’t, mom! You wanted to scream at her, how will it get better if the boy I used to love is living in the same palace as me?!

“I’m sure it will,” you said. A minute or so passed with Megan trying to fill the space with meaningless conversation. 

“Wait, wait!” The carriage passed a grove of trees that looked eerily familiar. “Stop! Stop the horses!” Your cries turned frantic and banged on the side of the carriage. Sticking your head out the window, you repeated your demand. The driver yanked on the reins and before it came to a complete stop, you jumped out. 

“Y/n! Where are you going?” Megan shuffled to get out after you, tripping on her dress. 

“Y/n, get back here!” Your mother cursed, yelling towards Megan, “get her back here, Megan! We’ll be late!”

You wanted to rip off your dress. It was scratching at your body and snagged on branches and twigs as you ran. You needed to make sure it was still there. Then you would go back to your family. But you just had to be sure.

“Y/n!” Megan groaned in frustration as her high-heel got caught on a tree root. She tugged on it and cried out, “You cannot simply leave!” 

“Please, just give me a moment!” you called back. The forest easily came back to you. It felt like a force was pulling you towards the clearing. 

“Do you wanna play hide and seek?” You sat on the grass, watching a nine-year-old Charles throw a ball up into the air and catch it. And then throw it back up. And catch it.

“Really?” Charles groaned. “That’s such a baby thing to do.”

“Hey!” You kicked him in the ribs. He yelled out and squirmed away. “First off, I am not a baby! And second, you’re not being very entertaining right now. I’m trying to think of things to do.” Other than having to sneak away from the castle, a hard thing about being friends with Charles was the age gap. He was entering a stage in life where he was determined to be cool and stoic and you sometimes wondered if he regretted his friendship with a little girl.

“Yeah, yeah, sorry,” he mumbled, offering a pitiful apology.

“Well, if you’re not going to talk to me, then I’ll just go back home.” You stood and slowly shuffled over to Newt, who was tied up by Charles’ horse, Scuderia. 

“Y/n, wait.” Charles suddenly appeared behind you and grabbed your arm. “I’m sorry, really. It’s rude of me to ignore you. We can play hide-and-seek.”

“No, you’re right,” you conceded. “It’s a little too childish. Wanna just talk?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m cool with that.” Charles couldn’t help the smile that overcame him. He didn’t know much about Y/n L/n’s personal life, but he definitely knew that you were one of his best friends. 

“Y/n, what the hell are you doing?!” Megan plucked a twig out of her hair. 

“I can’t do this,” you whispered, collapsing to the ground. The tree stood in front of you and the clearing still looked picturesque. It was where you had met with Charles all those times all those years ago. You wondered if you initials were still there or if the tree had scabbed over them. You didn’t want to check.

“What do you mean? Y/n, you can’t back out now. Mother will not allow it. Think of the Enzan royal family. This will ruin our relationship with them.” Megan crouched down next to you, sweeping your hair out of your face. You silently wondered how she matured so quickly.

“Megan, it would be better if this was a faceless prince that I had no connection to.”

“Is it not?”

“No, I-” You sighed. “Nevermind. Let’s go. I’m sorry.” 

After a tense carriage ride that consisted of your mother berating you for running off and you apologising profusely but not giving any explanation of why, the Enza palace came into view.

“Stand tall, good posture, don’t speak unless spoken to, and let your father and I handle the political aspects,” your mother reminded you. She swept your hair back into place and ran her fingers along the creases of your dress. She huffed at the dirt stains courtesy of the forest floor. “It’ll have to do. Now, come along.” A footman sprung open the carriage door and your father stepped down to victorious trumpets. He helped your mother down and the footman offered his hand to Megan who took it graciously. You refused the footman’s hand, jumping down on your own. 

“Y/n, you look dejected,” Megan whispered to you.

“And that’s because I am.” You clutched your dress and Megan huffed, wrestling your hand away. You understood her gestures and held out your arm. Megan took it and led you closer to the Enza royal family. 

“Look up,” your mother whispered. “At least look at your husband.” But it wasn’t your husband that drew your eyes. There, on the steps, was Charles Leclerc, or Charlie.

“Do you like anyone, chérie?” Charles felt odd asking this. Wasn’t it always the girls who had to be obsessed with crushes and who-liked-who? Why was he bringing this up?

“Uh… why do you ask?” You were eleven and it was weird to discuss this with a fourteen-year-old boy.

You weren’t sure how your feelings for Charles started. You guessed that because he was the only boy even remotely close to your age that you saw, it was bound to happen. 

“I don’t know,” Charles mumbled. “My older brother’s seeing someone and my younger one is now obsessed with girls. I wanted to know if you’re also caught up in this lovey-dovey stuff.” 

“Is it bad if I am?” You were afraid that Charles would ridicule and tease you for being swept up in the romance that was apparently ruining the continent. Even your sister gushed about a stable boy that she was infatuated with. 

“No, chérie,” Charles said slowly. “I just need to know if there’s another guy I need to compete with.” 

You laughed and said, “Don’t worry, Charlie. You’ll always be my number one.” 

“Good,” Charles tried to hide his smile. The butterflies in his stomach made it harder. Charlie. You called him Charlie. It was like you were trying to intoxicate him in this new thing called love.

***

When Charles heard your name for the first time in three years, he froze. And to hear it directed at his younger brother, no less. 

But when he saw you, time stopped. 

You hadn’t changed much over the three years, albeit your hair was a styled different and the way you carried yourself had stiffened. He desperately wanted to run up to you and kiss you until you both saw stars. He wanted to fold you in his arms and never let you go. He had lost you once and he wasn’t going to let that happen again. At least with you marrying his brother he would be able to see you. If he couldn’t touch you, seeing you would be enough. It would be torture, having you just within reach but unable to hold you, but it would be worse to not see you at all. 

It had been torture all these years. 

He cursed Arthur for being the youngest. If Charles had been born just after his youngest brother, he could’ve had you for himself. He cursed his heart. It wasn’t fair to fall for someone he could never have. He wondered if his parents would try to marry him off too. He wondered if he could marry someone while you were in his home. For certain, he could never love anyone as much as he loved you. Would he stay single his entire life, watching you and his brother grow old together? Would he marry someone in a loveless marriage? Or could something else happen that changed it all….? 

And then you looked at him.

Sparks ignited in his body. Then you looked at his brother. His heart was cleaved in two. Right. You weren’t there for him. He had to remember that or he would torture himself into oblivion. He already was torturing himself. Charles didn’t know if it would be better to avoid you or indulge himself in your presence. 

His father started talking to your father and Charles noticed Arthur stepping forward to greet you. Your mother pinched your side and Charles’ jaw clenched. From your stories, he didn’t like your mother, but this only solidified his opinion. 

Charles felt Lorenzo’s stare on him- the only person who knew about his rendezvous with you. Charles plastered on a smile and stayed stock-still. 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” he heard Arthur say to you.

“You as well.” Your voice was just as he remembered, if not more formal. You never spoke that way to him. Your words were always filled with laughter- not diplomacy. 

“May I give you and your sister a tour of our home?” Arthur proposed. 

“That would be lovely, thank you.” Megan detached yourself from your arm so you could walk with Arthur, your sister trailing behind. You brushed past him, holding your gaze forward. It would only pain you more to see him. 

“Charles, you need to talk to her,” Lorenzo whispered harshly to him. “It won’t do anyone good to have you sadly avoiding her. Arthur can’t have his wife and his brother looking lovelorn without knowing the cause.” 

“Arthur can never know,” Charles growled. “It would make things worse.”

“He doesn’t need to know if you and Princess Y/n work things out before the wedding,” Lorenzo persisted. 

Charles took a breath and finally said, “I’ll think about it, alright?”

Day 3

Arthur had spent yesterday showing you around the Leclerc palace and luckily, it was of similar design to the Haas castle. Megan had left with a tearful goodbye, promising to visit a day before the wedding to help you prepare. Your mother left you with a kiss on the cheek and your father had hugged you tightly.

You had spent the third day in your new room, handmaidens helping you unpack and commission new dresses for you. The Steward and Housekeeper had sat you down, giving you an overview of what the wedding would entail and the customs of Enzan marriages and politics. Of course, you already knew most of it as your mother had begun drilling it into you at an early age. 

You had collapsed into bed after they had gone, too tired to join the Leclerc’s for dinner or even change out of your dress. Yet you still couldn’t find purchase in sleep. It just wouldn’t come.

It was late at night when a knock resounded on your door. You slowly peeled yourself off the bed- which didn’t feel at all like your own- and said, “Come in.” 

“Hi,” Charles softly said. 

“Oh. Hi.” You straightened up and bowed your head in a form of a curtsy.

“Don’t- don’t do that.” Charles shook his head. “I was never your superior.”

You stood silently for a while, the awkwardness resounding. It seemed like a chasm was between you two. 

“I’ve missed you,” Charles admitted carefully. 

“I missed you too,” you said. “It’s been a while, huh?” 

“Yeah,” Charles chuckled uncomfortably and you joined him. “And to see you with my brother, no less.” Your laughter stopped immediately and you looked at the ground. “Right,” Charles swallowed harshly. He couldn’t seem to unstick that lump in his throat. “Sorry. I’m sorry. For it all. I should’ve never ended-”

“I forgave you a long time ago, Charlie,” you admitted. A wave of relief passed over his face and it looked like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. In one sudden movement, you tumbled forward and engulfed the boy in a hug. Charles swept his arms around you, reciprocating immediately. It felt nice to have you in his arms again. It felt like home. He pressed you closer to him, inhaling. Charles placed a soft kiss to your hairline, mumbling about all the times he missed you.

“Charles? Can you promise me something?” you asked. 

“Anything.” 

“Can you promise to never leave me alone again?” Your voice sounded so small and for the third time today, you unintentionally broke his heart.

“I’m sorry, chérie. I never meant to leave you alone in the first place. But yes, I promise to always stay by your side from now on.” 

“Even though I’m betrothed to-”

“Don’t talk about that, please.” Charles shook his head. 

“Okay,” you conceded. “But what will we do? Charlie, I still love-”

Charles cut you off with an Earth-shattering kiss. His hands circled around your lower back, gripping you even closer- if that was possible. You circled your hands around his neck, running them over his shoulders and down his torso. Every dip and curve was like you remembered. His kiss was just like you remembered.

“Charles?” The newly eighteen-year-old hummed in response and you glanced over at his figure. He was laying on a soft pitch of grass that was illuminated by a stream of sunlight that broke through the trees. His eyes were closed and a small smile graced his lips, showcasing one of his dimples. He had obviously been working out, and he had nicely grown into his body. He was wearing a loose tunic that highlighted his arms. The curve of his muscles made your heart jump a little quicker. You loved these moments with him alone, and you would be damned if your title of royalty got in the way. “Have you ever thought about growing up?”

“Sure I have,” Charles said. “What about it?”

Your brows settled into a frown. “My parents have started talking to me about marriage.”

“Already?” Charles opened one eye to find you already looking at him. Your hands were clasped over your stomach and fiddled together with anxiety. “You have a few more years.”

“Yes, but they want to lock down a husband before it’s too late,” you explained. “Apparently, I’m already betrothed. I just don’t know to whom.”

“You’re already married?!” Charles sat up on an elbow, looking incredulously at you.

“No,” you scoffed. “It’s synonymous with being engaged.”

“Geez,” Charles exhaled and laid back down. “I didn’t realise I was pining after a practically married woman.”

“Excuse me?!” 

Charles smirked. “Honestly, I’m surprised you didn’t figure it out sooner, chérie. I thought you were supposed to be the smart one in this relationship.” 

“Charlie.” The nickname made his facade drop and his heart rate rise. Was it all a big mistake? Did he just throw away this coveted friendship that he had worked so hard to cultivate? “Are you serious?” 

“As serious as death,” Charles whispered. 

“Death?” You couldn’t help but let a laugh escape. “Couldn’t you choose another word? Death sounds so cruel.”

“What other word would you like me to use to express my love for you?” Charles joined in your laughter, and once again, you relished in the sound. 

“I don’t care.” You rolled onto your side and Charles copied your actions, taking your hand in his. His fingers tapped over yours as if planning out the wedding dance. “Just so long as I can say it back.” 

It was all you could imagine for a first kiss. 

You gasped, pulling back from the boy you loved. “Charlie, I can’t do this. I- I’m about to marry your brother, for goodness sake! I can’t be kissing you and- and-”

“I know, chérie, I know,” Charles stepped back and he instantly missed your touch. “But I love you too. And I can’t bear seeing you so close, but knowing I can’t feel and love you. It hurts. It hurts being away from you.”

“Charlie… we can’t.” It pained you to say it, but it was true. You weren’t about to be the type of person who cheated on their husband with their brother. Even if it was for love, you still had morals.

“You’re not married yet,” Charles tried to smile. “Let me come to your room at night. Just to talk to you. Just to be around you. We’re still best friends, are we not?”

You chuckled sadly. “You always find a way to bend the rules, huh, Charlie?”

“For you, I’d do anything.”

Day 4

“I wish we could have met under better circumstances,” Arthur admitted. “You’re an incredibly nice girl and I have a feeling we would’ve made good friends. I mean, we’ll still make good friends, but what I’m trying to say-”

You let out a light laugh. “I get it, Arthur. I think we’ll make good friends too.” 

“How are you adjusting?” your fiancé asked. “Are you comfortable? How’s your room? We can repaint it, or redecorate if you wish?” 

“Arthur!” You chuckled at the boy’s concern. “Everything is perfectly fine! Thank you. You’re making this transition much easier.” 

“Well, I want to make sure my future wife enjoys herself,” Arthur shrugs. You stilled at his words. “And I wanted to introduce you to some of my friends. Maybe they could become your friends too?”

“Sure,” you agreed. Arthur proceeded to lead you around the palace, presenting you to a series of guards, dukes and duchess, butlers and maids. You met Earl Carlos, Duke Pierre, Baron Daniel, Knight Max, Lady Carla, and attendees such as Lily, Lewis and his daughter, Lando, Sara, and Esteban. They all seemed extremely accommodating and pleased to meet you. Everyone promised to help you through your time in Enza and to be loyal to their new princess. Arthur hovered a hand over your lower back the entire time, and as much as you appreciated the gesture, it didn’t feel the same as Charles’ touch.

“Arthur?” Like you had summoned him, Charles appeared behind you. “Mother and Father are requesting your presence in the throne room. It’s about finalising the formalities for… your wedding.” 

“Yes, of course,” Arthur nodded. “Can you keep Princess Y/n company, Charles?”

“Anything, brother.” Charles clapped Arthur on the shoulder. “Did I ever congratulate the two of you?” 

Arthur’s brow twitched and you wondered if he could also see the buried sadness in Charles’ eyes. “No, but I’ll gladly take it now.” 

“Well, congratulations. You’re lucky Maman and Papa found you a good one.”

“Yes, I am.” Arthur pressed a sweet, chaste kiss to your cheek before rushing off to his parents. Agonous jealousy was splayed on Charles face the moment Arthur turned away.

“I don’t know how many times I can say this in four days, but I’ve missed you,” Charles said, a sweet, awkward smile on his face as he shoved his hands in his pockets, stepping towards you. “Whenever I’m away from you I miss you.” 

“And I don’t know how I’m going to stay away from you if you keep proclaiming your love for me.” You reached out and touched his forearm.

“Then don’t stay away.” Charles wrapped you in a hug and you felt yourself giving in. “I can talk to my parents and I’m sure if we just explain the situation, they’ll understand. We could get married and be together. Arthur could marry a princess from Wolff or whoever he wanted! Y/n, we could-”

“Charlie, my love, what of my parents?” you asked. “They signed an agreement about me and Arthur. Not me and you. As much as I love the situation you’re describing, as much as I love the possibility of being with you, it’s impossible. Unless you can convince my parents otherwise, which is impossible, it’s not going to happen.”

Charles hummed, slowly separating himself from you in fear of someone seeing your embrace. “Then the least I can do is try.” 

You tied up Newt, silently counting down the minutes until Charles arrived. The seconds ticked by and you sat down at the base of the tree that had your initials carved into it next to Charles’. You traced Charles’ initials with your finger, still in the euphoria of love. It was only a couple weeks ago that you and Charles had confessed your love for each other and he couldn’t seem to stop saying it whenever he had the chance. It became greeting, conversation starter, and goodbye. 

But for some reason, Charles seemed to be late today. As time ticked by, a light mist coated the air. Normally, he was early, even getting to the clearing before you, but you tried not to worry. He probably had some duties to attend to, like you had had a couple weeks ago. You had apologised profusely to Charles, but he had forgiven you with the price of a kiss.

Newt started to get restless after twenty minutes and the mist turned into drizzle. You, now eighteen, fished out an apple to calm him down. It was another fifteen minutes before Scuderia showed up, Charles practically standing in the saddle, rain dripping down his body. “Charles!” You stood up, waving him towards you. Instead of the brilliant grin that usually graced his face whenever he saw you, a frown was burrowed into his brow. “What’s wrong?” 

“Chérie,” Charles didn’t even bother to tie Scuderia up before bundling you in his arms and peppering kisses to your forehead, temples, cheeks, and nose. He twirled you around so his arms were crossed in front of you, cradling you, and started kissing your neck, collarbone, and earlobes. 

“Charlie,” you laughed lightly. “What are you doing?”

“My chérie, mon amour, I’m sorry. I didn’t want it to end like this.” 

“Charles,” you spun around in his arms, taking his face in your hands. You gently caressed his cheek in an attempt to calm him down. “You’re scaring me. Please, tell me what’s wrong.” 

“I love you, you know that, right?” Charles assured you. You nodded along. “Then you have to believe me when I say it pains me that I can’t meet you here anymore.”

“What?” Your heart dropped and your stomach twisted. “Why?” 

“My mom and dad are getting suspicious, chérie. I think they know I’m meeting a girl out in the forest,” Charles tried to explain it to you but you just became more confused with every word. “I’ve already turned down one marriage proposal and they’ll get frustrated if I turn down another.” 

“You’ve done what?” You stepped back from him and Charles’ hands reached out, trying to keep you close to him. You backed up, away from him, until you could feel Newt at your back. “You never told me about that.” 

“I didn’t think it was important,” Charles argued. “But what I’m trying to say is that I think it’s best if we take a pause on the meetings for now. My parents are already breathing down my neck and it doesn’t help that you’re betrothed. Lorenzo found out about you and I’m worried what will happen if someone else does too.” 

“Charlie, you turned down a marriage proposal?” You couldn’t wrap your mind around it. “You could’ve had a wife by now? And who cares if Lorenzo knows about me?! I almost- it feels like you’re embarrassed about me?” It came out like a question. You tangled a hand in Newt’s mane, hoping for some sort of stability. “You never cared about my betrothal before this. Why now?” Charles swallowed and you could see a war debating in his mind. “Answer me, Charles,” you demanded. “What happened that made you bring this up?” 

Charles took a deep breath and said, “you’re the princess of Haas, aren’t you? It all makes sense. Your betrothal, your outfits, your manner of speaking. I thought you were just a duchess or countess, but no. You’re the princess.”

You weren’t sure how to answer. How did you find out? seemed too accusatory. I thought you knew? was too deflective. What does it matter? was too aggressive. You settled on saying, “yes. And you’re Prince Charles Leclerc. I’ve kind of always known.” 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Charles whispered.

“I’m not sure,” you admitted. “It never really came up. Some part of me thought you knew- thought you had connected the dots and just accepted it. I didn’t intentionally hide it from you. I’m sorry.”

“Y/n,” Charles started. “I can’t hang out with you anymore.” The beginning of tears pricked at the back of your eyes and your face grew hot. You opened your mouth to say something, but Charles beat you to it. “It’s not proper for us to visit each other outside of the court. If people found out they could…” He trailed off and shook his head. “I’m sorry, my chérie.”

You couldn’t meet his eye, instead focusing on a patch of wilted flowers. “Okay,” is all you could say. “Goodbye, Charles.” Newt’s mane was slick with rain as you climbed on. Your horse seemed to sense your urgency and quickly wove through the trees, leaving Charles behind. You wiped at your eyes, letting Newt take full control. You regretted it when a branch snagged on your arm and you cried out, a line of blood starting to appear. When you returned to the Haas castle, Megan didn’t question it when you collapsed on your bed, instead opting to help you change out of your rain-soaked dress before curling up with you under the covers. 

Little did you know, Charles was still sitting in that clearing, silently crying. Scuderia bumped his nose against Charles, but the prince just pushed him away.

Day 6

“So, what’re you going to do about it?” Megan asked.

“Absolutely nothing,” you admitted. “There’s nothing I can do. The treaty has been signed, the preparations are underway, and Arthur…” You sighed before continuing, “he’s really nice. I could envision a future with him.”

“But what about Prince Charles?” Megan sat on your bed, the night before the wedding. You had given in and told her everything. “Can you envision a future with him?”

“I want a future with him.”

A deeper voice whispered, “I want a future with you too.” Charles stood at your door, and peeking out behind him was Arthur.

“Shit,” Megan muttered.

“What are you doing here?” You stood up, eyes flickering to Charles before sheepishly locking eyes with Arthur. “Prince Arthur… I’m sorry! I didn’t mean-”

“No, no,” the boy reassured you, his small, anxious smile seeming almost… hopeful. “You’re a wonderful girl and an even better friend, but you’re not who I would’ve chosen to marry. No offence,” he quickly added. “We just don’t click. We don’t have that same spark that you and Charles do. And, well, I kind of have my sights set on someone else. Charles explained it all to me.”

You laughed. “Guess we really are the perfect pair, huh? Both pining after other people.”

“And you after my brother?” Arthur joked, gasping dramatically. “How unfaithfully devious of you.”

“Oh, shut up.” 

“What does this mean, then?” Megan asked for you. “We can’t just swap Charles out for Arthur at the wedding.”

Arthur grinned and said, “Why not?” He slung an arm around Charles, clapping him on the chest. “Guess you’re getting married, big brother.”

Charles laughed loudly before turning to look at you. “Y/n L/n, will you marry me tomorrow?” 

Your lips separated in half shock and half elation. “I- I… yes! Though I admit, I expected something a bit more extravagant.”

“Chérie, I’m just upholding my promise.” Charles opened his arms cheekily and even though you were confused by his words, you fell into them, happy to be able to hold him in the presence of others.

“Hmm?”

“You don’t remember?” He lifted an eyebrow, throwing you his signature smirk.

You tossed a ball to Charles who threw it back.  “Anything new in your life?” he asked.

“Nope. You?”

“Nope.”

After a minute of silence Charles said, “Let’s make a deal.”

“Alright, what is it?”

“If, in ten years, we still have the same, boring lives,” You scoffed at his words. “then we get married and make our lives un-boring, together.”

After a moment’s deliberation, it didn’t seem like a bad deal to an eight-year-old. “Okay,” you readily agreed. “But I doubt my life will be boring in ten years.”

“Sure…” Charles snickered at you. “I’ll let you believe that.”

“How can you not remember my completely legitimate marriage proposal?” Charles scoffed quietly, leaning down to bump his forehead against yours.

“Well, pardon me for not remembering something you said thirteen years ago,” you tapped him on the chest.

“How could you not remember a proposal?” Charles asked. 

“I would like to know the answer to that as well,” Megan spoke up. 

“Well, does it matter as long as I say ‘yes’?”

“No, I guess not,” Charles beamed as he bent down to kiss you.

Day 7

Charles kissed you again, but this time it was in front of an altar, before a crowd, and with you wearing white. 

Surprisingly, it hadn’t took much convincing for your parents to understand the situation. Apparently, Charles had stayed true to his word and contacted your parents, explaining everything. Your father was just relieved you were still marrying someone and your mother had always preferred Charles anyway. King and Queen Leclerc, after hearing of the years of meetings you and Charles had shared, were more than thrilled. They were eager for you to join their family and a marriage of love always went better than a marriage of politics. 

The wedding was already planned, the chefs already prepping, and the priest already booked. All they needed was to switch out Arthur’s name for Charles’.

“May I present Prince and Princess Leclerc of Enza!” The priest announced to thunderous applause.

“Hello, chérie,” Charles whispered and his nose bumped against yours. “Or should I say, Princess Leclerc?”

“I like that name best,” you grinned.

“I do too,” Charles admitted.

[yakuly]

Gente 👉👈

Se por algum a mcaso eu apagar a publicação de "monarchy" e postar em outro momento, vcs não ficam bravas, nem tentam me matar? E se eh apagar e postar de novo, vocês prometem que vão ler de novo?

Pq assim...NÃO ERA PRA TER POSTADO! Mas o timblr me tombou, e tô desde esse dia em completa agonia por que não foi no meu momento (eu sei que é loucura, mas sinto q não era a hora de postar). Aí eu só queria saber mesmo a opinião de vcs sjnsj

[dimneo1010]

A small rush of inspiration for my Monarchy au Dragon Samurai Dimple

Reigen allowed Dimple to choose a host since Dimple does all the magic work. Unfortunately, the closest person by was Samurai Yoshioka. He gained the dragon traits after the possession which led to his body shifting. (He has a tail it's just hidden also he's missing a horn instead of his ear being slightly chipped).

[wnbnny]

the blood crown. (chapter 1.)

pairings: prince!chan x reader, prince!minho x reader, prince!changbin x reader, prince!hyunjin x reader, prince!jisung x reader, prince!felix x reader, prince!seungmin x reader, prince!jeongin x reader

warnings: mentions of blood, death, poison, suggestive jokes but no smut, competition amongst noble families, ot8 are princes

author's note: hellooo:) welcome to my first series on tumblr! i wanted to go with a sort of dark theme for this fic:> please please do leave likes and comments, it truly makes my day!

You grew up in a household made of lies, deceit and poison. 

Born with a silver spoon in your mouth, you were born to an ordinary village girl, and your father, a high-ranking noble. Your mother had been training you since you could barely walk; always smile politely, always walk gracefully, always greet your guests. Each time you would get something wrong, the feared cane would come down upon your hands, enough to hurt but never enough to leave bruises. Your mother had grown up in a poor village, using her charm and wit to seduce your father and charm her way into the ranks of high society. She was ruthless, cunning, and most of all: ambitious. She dreamed of ascending to the very top- the royal family. It was no surprise that when you were at the mere age of ten, your father was pronounced dead on a Thursday afternoon in his quarters, being assassinated by a thief who had supposedly snuck into your house. 

But you knew. 

You knew when the corner of your mother's lips curved up ever so slightly, at the funeral ceremony of your father. Barely there, but it was the smirk of a triumphant winner of the chess game. All your father's assets were transferred to your mother, and she became head of the household- never remarried and never gave birth to any more children. 

Your kingdom was governed by the Bahng's, who had eight sons and a daughter- Christopher, the heir to the throne and the king's sole legitimate child, Minho, the second, born to a concubine in the king's harem, just like the rest. Changbin was the third, along with Hyunjin, then Jisung, Felix, Seungmin, and finally Jeongin. And then there was Princess Areum, the king's beloved daughter and second legitimate child. 

Your mother heard from the gossip circles amongst the ladies at the tea tasting ceremonies she hosted often, that there were talks of Princess Areum being engaged to Duke Choi's son, Yeonjun. The Choi's were a rival family, always competing with your mother for power. 

One day, when you had just crossed the age of eleven a few weeks ago, your mother called you to her study. You sighed, getting up gracefully from where you had been perched on a chair reading, and walked to her study, knocking first, three sharp raps.

"Come in," she called.

And so you put on a demure smile, hands clasped in front of you, never tripping or stumbling on your way. Clothes neatly ironed, not a single hair out of place, the pinnacle of perfection.

"Y/N." her perfectly shaped brows rise, scrutinising you, before smiling softly. Your mother was always strange like that. You knew she loved you, but in wanting what was best for you always pushed too far.

"You know of Princess Areum's engagement." 

You nod, brows furrowed.

"She is not the heir to the throne and poses no danger to us as she is a girl, but her future husband does, unfortunately. The Choi's will surely use their newfound power to gloat over us and trample us underfoot if their son was to be married to the princess. However, we must target the girl this time, it is far too risky to target the boy. Weeds in a garden have to be pruned, ripped out by the roots, to maintain the beauty of the garden. Surely you understand. Tell me the number one rule in chess again." her once soft expression hardens, and she leverages you with a stare, piercing through you.

"Always predict your opponent's next move." you reply, unsure of where this conversation is going. 

"Yes. The Choi family will immediately suspect us if something happens to their precious firstborn, meanwhile the princess will be easy to manipulate and target." your mother sighs, folding her hands neatly on her lap.

"I want you to make friends with Princess Areum, invite her to our house if possible. We'll see from there." 

You nod, hesitant yet confused. What did she mean by target the princess? Was she going to manipulate her to cancel the engagement? 

It turns out, the outcome was far worse.

Princess Areum had become fast friends with you quickly, both sharing common interests. Soon, she began to invite you and your mother to the royal palace, your mother becoming close with the queen too. 

You should've known. 

Years later when you were older, you finally understood what had happened. A tiny bottle of liquid your mother had claimed to be a restoring health tonic, carefully tucked into your mother's sleeve as she made her way to the palace together with you for your weekly afternoon tea sessions with just the four of you.

Princess Areum's rigid body falling to the ground when she took a sip of her afternoon tea, the cries of Queen Bahng echoing out throughout the room as the princess drew her last breath. 

You knew.

The King was heartbroken, his only daughter buried in a grave six feet under the ground. No one even suspected your mother.

One year later, Queen Bahng departed from the realm. The people claimed she died from the heartbreak of losing her only daughter, but only two individuals ever knew the truth. 

Your mother pretended to be inconsolable at the funeral, sobbing as she watched the casket, and you almost wanted to applaud at how convincing her acting was. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw the Crown Prince, Christopher Bahng, standing beside his father who had a tight hand clasped on his shoulder. The prince's eyes were clearly red from having cried the night prior, yet he remained stoic throughout the ceremony. He never let his emotions nor his grief consume him, you supposed it was how you were like with your mother. Never allowed to show your imperfections to the world. Though you wouldn't admit it, deep down you felt sorry for him, a broken child just like you.

The Choi's never rose to power, and your mother's plan worked. 

"You must take what is rightfully yours," she had said on the carriage ride home. "And you must do what it takes."

"But at what cost?" you asked.

"Everything."

-years later-

You stared out the window at the bustling city, feeling extremely uncomfortable in the many layers of silk and fabric you were clad in. 

"Remember," your mother turned around to look at you, her sharp voice cutting through the silence. "Keep your head up and your eyes trained upon the goal. Charm Prince Christopher.”

“Become the next queen."

~part 2 coming soon~