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crystallinestars · 8 months ago

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OMG thank you so much for your response 😭 You always answer very kindly and in a detailed manner ahahah it is always fun to read your posts ! For rant, where to begin… I’m straight up typing this on a document so that it’ll be easier to organize gyahahah. I hope the readers do not see this as an assault on certain people, just an exchange of ideas 😁This is like 1250 words, enough for a uni essay, I feel that at some points it may be rather incoherent…

So I guess I will start with the shipping thing ! So when it comes to Kaveh ships, I see that it is like 99% with Alhaitham. I guess it is because of the way the game sets them up. Not only do they live under the same roof but iirc they have extensive voicelines about each other. I won’t deny that they play an important role in each other’s lives! Like back from their Akademiya days when they were still friends and collaborated with each other, and then when they had their falling out, and then Kaveh falls into financial ruin and inevitably ends up turning to his former friend for help (much to his own shame and chagrin). If they’ve known each other for this many years, it is natural that they would have many things to say about each other.

However, I guess this also opens up the way for BL fans to interpret this in a romantic manner. Ofc they could feel free to ship as they’d like, but just taking into account the ones who are so insistent that any other ship must be wrong, I will detail the following…

For people who have been in each other’s lives for a long time (I’m thinking 10+ years for these two), it isn’t out of the ordinary to talk about each other. I talk about the people in my close circle a fair amount, same with the people I know. It doesn’t need to imply a secret crush. And regarding their interactions, they often throw shade at each other. This is also interpreted in a romantic manner by many fans. If we look at this in a more positive light, I remember a guy player noting that their kind of interaction is similar to IRL male friendships. Guys dissing or making fun of each other with no deeper meaning to it. Bros being bros kind of thing. But if we look at it critically, I would say that a relationship where they’re arguing all the time… is not ideal. Like a commenter on Reddit said something that stood out to me, that Kaveh just looks so stressed when he’s interacting with Haitham. 😅 Looking at it from this angle, it makes it difficult to romance the two ahahah (not because of a “problematic” aspect but rather because it isn’t fun watching them just constantly arguing and Kaveh being miserable from this).

To digress a bit, my ideal Kaveh ships would be either Kaveh+Lumine or Kaveh+Nilou. The former because Lumine in his hangout quest helps him a lot, like helping him deal with his past and with many of his issues. Also I like the idea of Kaveh accompanying Lumine during her travels, nice way to keep her company. 😁 And for KavehLou their romantic+artsy personalities and their shared cultural connection!!! I feel like Kaveh would legit treat Nilou like a goddess ahahah and Nilou would definitely cheer him up when he’s struggling, and both of them have super good vibes so it’s 💯 green flags all around. I also want to see them celebrate Nowruz together… ahahah.

And this kind of ties into my next point that because of the whole shippy thing, Kaveh is rarely seen as his own character. This is evident when you look up his name on Twitter. Most of it will be him with Haitham; the fandom treats him like he is Haitham’s add-on. For comparison, when I look up my other fave Scaramouche/Wanderer, I actually get art of JUST him. Not with Kazuha, Childe, or even Lumine. Just straight up Scara. Kaveh doesn’t get this solo treatment because much of the fandom just sees him as an extension of Haitham. The thing is that Kaveh is one of the most human and relatable characters in the game: he wants to be a good person, yet he does struggle with having his own personality flaws. He has financial struggles that he’s barely clawing his way out of. If we disregard his genius and extraordinary academic record, I think most people could see themselves in him. In other words, I’d say that he is a very solid character. I think it’s about high time we give him his own chance to shine, without feeble scholar getting in his way ahahah (no shade to you, Alhaitham !). Let Kaveh be his own person!

And another point I would like to make, it is something that is of interest to me because it does involve different cultural perspectives. Kaveh is commonly interpreted as “feminine.” There is no shame in being a feminine man. However, the basis of this interpretation is 1) his appearance and 2) his expressive behavior. Regarding his appearance, I think it is because he styles himself in a particular manner that people automatically assume he is “___-coded.” To address this, I’ve seen Iranian Genshin players explain that historically, it wasn’t uncommon for Iranian men to wear jewelry, dress flamboyantly, and enjoy the fine arts. But to outsiders’ eyes, doing these makes him “less of a man.” It is like how some male k-pop idols are seen as “girly” or even “gay” by many in the West, but for women in many east+southeast Asian societies they are perfectly acceptable men. Just that when they see him as “feminine” it often verges into fetishization territory… I’ll try not to play pixel activism here, but ngl it gets really gross and weird at times. A few weeks ago I had the misfortune of laying my eyes upon a Haitham+Kaveh fanart where Kaveh was basically (sorry for the description in advance) Haitham’s belly dancer/slave?? Of course fanartists have the freedom to draw whatever they want but this image was pretty much a symptom of how the fandom views Kaveh. 🙁 Even one of the well-known Iranian Genshin enjoyers called this out as fetishistic and orientalist (the latter term is often thrown around with regard to Sumeru, but I think that this instance actually warranted its use).

In addition to his appearance, Kaveh is a very emotionally expressive man. He wears his heart on his sleeve. Because of this, this further contributes to fans thinking of him as “girly.” So I guess men aren’t “real men” if they are open with their emotions, if we go by the logic of the fandom? Haitham and other characters seen as “masculine” e.g. Diluc and Childe are given the “masculine” treatment because they demonstrate far more restraint with their emotions, while Kaveh gets the “uwu I’m a lil bbygirl in need of saving” treatment simply because he doesn’t hold back when it comes to his feelings. So from this there’s like so much stuff of him as “ohhh submissive prettyboy 🥺🥺🥺” instead of taking into account other aspects of his personality, like he could actually be assertive especially when dealing with annoying clients. It does him a true disservice…

I feel that I’m missing many more points that I’ve considered before, if I ever remember them I will probably send them in… I hope it does not come off as some sort of crusade call, but rather just an outpouring of thoughts. And hopefully this is a decently entertaining read ^^;;;;

WELCOME BACK!!! I have been waiting for your lovely essay on how Kaveh gets done dirty by the fandom, and it made me so happy to see you and I share a lot of opinions in common on this! (That's a lot of text though. I don't mind the length at all, but I'm surprised the word limit let you hahaha)

To your amazing analysis, I respond to you with an essay of my own.

I completely agree with your points that people who have known each other for a long time would naturally have a lot to say about each other. Even if they haven't known each other for long, when people live in close quarters together, they definitely have things to say about one another, especially negative ones. The bickering Kaveh and Alhaitham have is expected since they're roommates, and on top of that, roommates that had a falling out as friends. Their relationship is a bit strained since neither wants to admit they were wrong in the past due to their pride.

I work 5 days a week with a coworker of mine, and I have a lot to say about her because we work closely together. Does that mean I'm romantically attracted to her? No, not at all. Quite the opposite. Unfortunately, this logic doesn't apply to fiction quite so easily, and I'll cover why in a bit.

The point about them acting like real-life guy friends is also very true, although I think their relationship fits a sitcom more closely. I know someone who said Kaveh and Haitham's relationship reminds them of Leonard and Sheldon's from The Big Bang Theory. Two guys living together, constantly bickering and throwing shade, but caring about one another deep down.

Lord, I can write a whole separate essay on why I think Kaveh and Alhaitham don't work as a romantic couple, but I won't do that here. This post is already gonna be long. Maybe another time.

However, I do want to say that while you make excellent points on how Kaveh and Haitham's relationship isn't inherently romantic, there is a very big BUT to all this. And that's Mihoyo.

As an anime game developer, Mihoyo knows all about the anime community. After all, the founders were all otakus, they know what kind of audience they have. They know what is popular, and what's popular is BL. There is not a single excuse anyone can give me that can convince me otherwise that Mihoyo didn't know exactly what they were doing when they wrote Kaveh and Haitham to be roommates. They didn't have to write them to live together. They didn't have to write all the extra dialogue where they mention each other. They didn't have to do the matching key idles, the references to the other in their birthdays, or introduce Kaveh through Alhaitham TWICE. They knew how their audience will interpret their dynamic, they had the option to structure it differently, but they still went through with it. It was deliberate.

Kaveh was introduced with Haitham, and ever since, they have consistently been shown together. It's as if they are literally glued to each other. Can't go a single birthday, event, quest, or otherwise without the other being present in some way. It is all intentional. Their interactions and cameos carry intent behind them that shippers pick up on, and that intent is to appeal to their group. So while it's erroneous to claim that Kaveh and Haitham are canonically in a romantic relationship the way a lot of toxic shippers are doing, there is a good reason why they think so. Mihoyo is actively encouraging this mindset by not allowing either character to shine on their own, but rather as a pair because they know this appeals to a subsection of their fanbase, and a large one at that.

As for your Kaveh ships, I agree 100%! Lumine is a good choice for sure (I say this as a kavelumi shipper *gets shot*), and while I don't ship it, I understand the reasoning behind Kavelou, and think it's cute. Nilou would be a really good influence on Kaveh. He always laments about how nobody understands his passion for the arts, but Nilou would. They're both artists that are trying to eke their own path in a society that doesn't appreciate art. Nilou, as you mentioned, would cheer him up, and I think Kaveh would also find peace of mind through her dancing. Kaveh needs someone optimistic and kind like Nilou.

While we're on the topic of Kaveh ships, I would also like to suggest my own that I really like. Kaveh x Candace. Please don't shoot me. Candace is strict and no-nonsense, so she wouldn't let Kaveh get away with constantly self-sabotaging himself. And unlike Haitham, she is gentle and almost motherly, so she'd be more successful in getting through to Kaveh and soothing him. Or so I like to think. Kaveh would also help her see the outside world more, maybe have her accompany him through the desert and show her beautiful sights she'd never see by staying cooped up in her village. Plus, he's literally helping to construct a library for her village! There is so much potential for them to bond over Aaru village yet Hoyo keeps pushing the same relationships, I am so tired-

But of course, for me, the best ship of all will forever be Kaveh x You/Reader. On my blog, every guy I write for loves you, and only you. Please don't kill me.

Carrying on, you are right in that Kaveh isn't seen as his own person. You'd be hard-pressed to find (popular) art of him that doesn't imply Haitham in there somewhere. Is it so surprising, though, when even the game developer treats them as a package deal?

I feel you, it's a pity. Kaveh's character is very complex and one of the most realistic. When I read his backstory, I couldn't help but think as if someone in Mihoyo put a part of themselves in his character. The struggles he goes through are realistic, painfully so, even. I've also seen lots of artists say they relate to Kaveh. He has so much to explore about him, but I fear that outside of the Darshan event and his hangout, we'll never get to see more.

Okay, so. I have mentioned before on this blog how I am annoyed at how Kaveh is viewed as feminine and submissive due to his appearance and emotional nature. You've already touched on all the points, so excuse me for sounding like a broken record, but I have A LOT to say about this.

There is nothing wrong with being feminine. There is nothing wrong with being a feminine man. What is wrong, however, is associating femininity with submission.

Kaveh has traits that are often associated with femininity, which, as you pointed out, are his neat and pretty looks and emotional expressiveness (the bit about Iranian men traditionally wearing jewelry is super interesting, btw. I didn't know, so this was enlightening!). To this, I also want to add that lots of people think he acts like a nagging wife with Alhaitham. That's basically all it takes for people to slap him with the "feminine" label, and treat him as if he's a submissive, blushy, uwu bbgurl I want to delete this term from existence

I know that men the West views as "feminine/girly" are often popular among women in Asia, and it really just comes down to culture and a matter of taste. I share their taste in men because I also find K-Pop idols and smooth-faced, slim anime guys more attractive than muscular and rugged men, and by no means do I think they're girly. But alas, each culture has expectations for how men and women are supposed to look and act, and it's led to more harm than good.

It's also unfortunate that Kaveh gets compared to Alhaitham a lot. Alhaitham is what one would call traditionally masculine. Muscular, stoic, reserved, aloof, etc... But especially the muscular part. Kaveh isn't muscular, and as we saw in the Darshan event, isn't athletic. This difference in physique is also a reason people call him feminine. I saw someone say (in a shipping context) that they prefer Kaveh to be submissive because Alhaitham is taller and bigger than him. Nothing wrong with wanting a sub Kaveh, but I find this reasoning very flawed. Fetishistic, if you will.

And yes, the "one man is a dom/top while the other is a sub/bottom" mentality follows a lot of BL ships. People literally fight with each other over who they believe should be the top or bottom. There are even specific emojis for it. Don't know why people are so hung up about who tops or who bottoms, but what do I know. I don't understand the appeal of BL at all 🫤

Gosh, I'm sorry you had to see that belly dancer art... I once saw a ship art where Kaveh wore a wedding dress while Haitham wore a suit. It wasn't a silly context, either, but a serious and romantic one. I really dislike seeing art of Kaveh being feminine or acting submissive because that's not him at all.

Please look at this official art. Look at how Kaveh casually stuffs his hand in his pocket, at how he sits with his legs spread wide without a care in the world, at how he slings Mehrak over his shoulder. Look at how confidently and casually he carries himself. His body language screams "masculine".

Kaveh is confident, prideful, assertive, bold... I could go on. These are also traits usually associated with men. I mean, look at how he talks about one of his seniors in his hangout!

He's got quite the mouth and a temper.

He's not shy, far from it, actually. He's not submissive. He's not a dainty damsel in distress than needs someone stronger to help him, because in actuality, he's resourceful and intelligent.

Kaveh is self-assured in his masculinity. Sure, he's not a big, buff man, and he wears his heart on his sleeve, but that doesn't make him less of a man or weak. Maybe physically a bit, but I don't think he's below average in terms of strength. He makes up for it with his smarts and invents things to circumvent his shortcomings. This part of him gets overlooked, because he gets compared to Alhaitham. It doesn't help that the two are always seen together lately.

In my humble opinion, Kaveh is more of a dom than Alhaitham will ever be. Haitham gives me vibes of being someone who's too lazy to put in the work in bed, so he'd rather lie back and let his partner lead. Meanwhile, Kaveh isn't afraid to go after what he wants, and will pamper his partner.

In conclusion, you are very right about everything. If Mihoyo wasn't purposely throwing ship crumbs at every opportunity, then Kaveh potentially wouldn't have had his character assassinated by the fandom. Every character gets mischaracterized to some degree (I weep for Childe), but unlike most, Kaveh's mischaracterization is largely in part due to shipping.

Apologies for the massive tangent. I had a lot of fun reading your analysis and mentally screaming "YES! YES! SHE GETS IT! I'm not the only one!", so thank you for sending this in. Don't worry, it was very well put-together, probably better than my rambling. I found out some new points, and had a few of mine validated, so feel free to send another essay if you think of more things. I love deep and thoughtful discussions like these haha!

#Lunaria answers #gosh this got way longer than I thought it would #my brain is fried #Why can't school essays be this easy to write?

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jayzfort · 8 months ago

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Remember that time? || Panville

A/N- I've decided to embark on a series of short drabbles centered on non-canon ships, such as Panville, Fremione, Harmione, and Druna. However, my main focus will be on Panville/Fremione. These drabbles will each have a specific theme. For example, in 'Remember when?', we'll take a trip down memory lane with Pansy and Neville, tracing their journey throughout the years. As for Fred and Hermione, I'm contemplating a similar approach. Perhaps we'll witness them navigating the complexities of married life, with Fred as the proprietor of a joke shop and Hermione serving as the Minister of Magic. Also, the pictures I have used, are not mine. Credits to the original artists. If at all anyone wishes for me to tag the artists, please let me know. Thank you.

Remember when we met accidentally?

Pansy observed her husband, Neville, tending to the plants in their backyard from the kitchen window. Setting aside her dishwashing duties, she abandoned the dishes and the drying cloth and made her way to the backyard greenhouse. Leaning against the door frame, she watched Neville potting a Belladonna plant with his back turned to her. It had become a habit for Pansy to twist her wedding band around her finger, a silent reassurance that despite the trials they faced after the war, everything had turned out alright. She had transformed into a better person.

Smiling at the sight of Neville engrossed in his botanical pursuits, she decided to playfully comment, "Nice arse you've got there, Mr. Longbottom." Startled, Neville turned to her, his face flushing red. Despite his heroics during the war, Pansy loved how her remarks could still make him blush. "Why thank you, but please, keep your comments to yourself. My wife won't be too happy; she's very possessive," he replied with a chuckle.

"That I am, and perhaps you should relay that message to the young women who flirt with you every time you visit Diagon Alley," Pansy retorted matter-of-factly, earning another laugh from Neville as he wiped his hands on a rag. "I'm going to miss you, Nev," she murmured, resting her head on his chest.

"Don't worry, love. I'll only be gone for a month, and then you'll join me," Neville reassured her, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "A month is a long time. You're choosing your Hogwarts plants over your wife. I'll remember that the next time you come asking for plant-growing potions," Pansy joked softly.

"Parkinson, who taught you to be so dramatic? Aren't you supposed to be the independent pureblood woman you were raised to be?" Neville teased, gently tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear. "Shut up, Longbottom," she replied, rising on her tiptoes to kiss him.

"Baby, Remember when we met after the war?" she asked softly, her gaze lingering on their wedding bands, which gleamed in the sunlight filtering into the greenhouse.

"Please have a seat, Pansy," Headmistress McGonagall instructed as Pansy entered her office, her mind swirling with apprehension. After clearing up the potions desk following her last class with the fourth-year Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws, Pansy had received a summons from the Headmistress via her patronus, leaving her feeling uneasy throughout dinner. With the recent capture of ex-Death Eaters, even those who had previously been granted leniency, Pansy couldn't shake the feeling that she might be called in for questioning as well.

"May I come in?" Pansy politely knocked on the door before entering the office, where she greeted McGonagall before taking a seat opposite the headmistress.

"Pansy, I have some news that I would like to discuss with you first," McGonagall began, her tone serious. Pansy nodded, her nerves evident as she fidgeted with her nails, a habit she had developed during the war when feeling anxious.

"I hope you remember Mister Longbottom, Neville Longbottom," McGonagall began, and Pansy couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt at the mention of that name. It was a name that haunted her, stirring up memories of regret and remorse every time it crossed her path – in newspapers, in crowds, anywhere. She had often fantasized about approaching him, falling to her knees, and pleading for his forgiveness for the countless reasons that weighed heavily on her conscience – from the taunts she had subjected him to during their school years to her inability to intervene when the Carrows tortured him during the war.

"Yes, Professor," Pansy replied, her voice catching in her throat. She felt an uncomfortable lump forming, rendering her speechless as she could do little more than nod in response to McGonagall's words.

"I have decided to appoint him as the Herbology professor after the Christmas break. Pomona took immediate retirement after she broke her leg going to the greenhouses last week." The revelation that Neville would be taking on the role caught Pansy off guard. It was an unexpected twist.

"I hope you have no problem, considering you'll be colleagues with an ex-classmate," McGonagall concluded. Pansy felt a mix of emotions flood over her. On one hand, she was relieved to be spared from questioning. On the other, she was apprehensive about facing Neville, the person she owed so many apologies to. Masking her true feelings with a practiced smile, she replied in a professional tone honed from years of navigating the intricacies of pureblood society.

"Of course, it will be delightful to have a colleague with whom I've shared seven years of classes," she said, rising from her seat and exiting the room.

Fast forward to the Christmas break, with most students having returned home for the holidays, Neville had arrived and was settling in. He easily mingled with the other teachers, who quickly warmed up to him. Even the few students staying behind during the break found themselves drawn to Neville's friendly and amiable demeanor.

However, it seemed that Professor Parkinson, Head of Slytherin and Potions Master of Hogwarts, was the only one giving the new professor the cold shoulder. It wasn't intentional; she simply couldn't bring herself to approach him and pretend that the past hadn't happened.

Rumors began circulating among the sixth and seventh year girls, the ones known for their mischief, suggesting that Pansy and Neville had attempted to date in their seventh year but had a falling out. Little did they know, their seventh year was overshadowed by the war.

One day, a deep voice interrupted her thoughts, a voice that belonged to a tall, broad-shouldered, handsome man. Neville Longbottom stood in her office, a sight that caught her off guard. He exuded confidence, with his sharp jawline, disheveled sandy hair, and muscular arms straining against his rolled-up sleeves. My god, he was going to be the death of her.

"Neville—sorry, Professor Longbottom? Uh, how may I help you? Please, come in," she stammered, trying to compose herself. But facing Neville, now transformed into a confident and striking man, was proving difficult. His presence seemed to fill the room, and she found herself unable to meet his gaze.

"Sorry, Professor, I was caught off guard. How may I help you?" she continued, turning away to busy herself with potion ingredients.

"Pansy? You know there aren't any students around. You don't need to be formal. We're classmates," he remarked casually, sensing her discomfort.

"I believe formality is necessary, especially during work hours. What is it that you need?" she replied, her tone more curt than intended. Instantly, she regretted her sharpness, reminded of how she had treated him during their school years.

"Plant growth hormone enhancement potion, please," Neville requested, keeping it simple. But then he realized that his recent interactions with the Potions professor had been a bit tense, so he decided to take a chance.

"Professor, I've noticed that I've been warmly welcomed by the students and all the other professors, except you. Is there another way you'd like to welcome me? Perhaps a late-night rendezvous at the greenhouses?" he added, flashing a playful wink.

Pansy found herself at a loss for words. Was Neville Longbottom flirting with her? As much as she wanted to feel flattered, guilt consumed her. She couldn't ignore the fact that she had made his life miserable during their seven years at Hogwarts. She had been a terrible person, allowing him to be bullied and tortured. If she were in his shoes, she would never forgive herself. In fact, she might even take legal action to keep her away.

"Flirting? You have the audacity to flirt with me after everything I put you through?" Pansy burst out, her voice rising with each word. She couldn't contain the surge of emotions flooding her, the guilt, the regret, and the self-loathing.

"How can you pretend that the seven years at Hogwarts didn't happen, that I didn't make your life a living hell? I was cruel, Neville. I let you be tormented, I stood by and did nothing. If I were you, I wouldn't even want to look at me, let alone flirt!" Her words came out in a rush, fueled by years of pent-up remorse and shame.

Neville's expression softened, his eyes filled with understanding. "Pansy, that was a long time ago. We were kids, and we've both grown since then. I don't hold any grudges, and I certainly don't blame you for what happened. We've all made mistakes."

But Pansy couldn't shake off the weight of her past actions. "No, you don't understand. You were always kind, always brave, even when I didn't deserve it. I'm sorry, Neville. I'm so sorry," she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion.

Neville approached Pansy slowly, his gaze gentle as he reached out to place a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "Pansy, it's okay. We were both different people back then. We've all made mistakes, but that doesn't define who we are now."

His touch was comforting, a warmth spreading through her as she met his eyes, seeing nothing but sincerity and compassion reflected in them. "You were just as much a victim of the circumstances as I was. We were all caught up in something much bigger than ourselves," he said softly.

Pansy nodded, a sense of relief washing over her at his understanding. "Thank you, Neville. For being so understanding, for forgiving me," she murmured, her voice choked with emotion.

They sat in silence for a moment, the weight of their shared past hanging in the air between them. Then, with a tentative smile, Neville suggested, "How about we start over? Leave the past behind us and focus on the present. Friends?"

Pansy returned his smile, feeling a glimmer of hope blooming within her. "Friends," she agreed, knowing deep down that their bond would only grow stronger with time.

As they shared a brief moment of camaraderie, both Pansy and Neville couldn't help but sense the unspoken connection between them, a silent acknowledgment that perhaps, just perhaps, their journey together was far from over.

The warmth of their embrace lingered for a moment longer, enveloping them in a cocoon of shared memories and unspoken promises. But just as quickly as it had begun, their intimate moment was interrupted by the sound of three loud shrieks, echoing through the greenhouse.

Neville and Pansy turned towards the source of the noise, their children rushing towards them with boundless energy. August, their son, reached out eagerly for his mother, while Alice and Francesa clamored for their father's attention.

"Well, we had a good 15 minutes to ourselves, didn't we?" Pansy remarked with a playful grin, scooping up August into her arms as their daughters enveloped Neville in a tight embrace.

Despite the interruption, there was a sense of contentment in the air as they gathered together as a family, the love and warmth shared between them serving as a reminder of the precious moments they cherished together.

#panville #fremione #panville smut #harry potter #harry potter next generation #harryginny #marauders #hogwarts legacy #hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry #hogwarts oc #hogwarts houses #slytherin #gryffindor #sorting hat #albus dumbledore #minerva mcgonagall #professor snape #marriage au

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katiefrog217 · 6 months ago

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10 Questions for Fic Writers

Thanks @eviebane for the tag!!

No pressure tagging: @bellisima-writes @knifeforkspooncup @thatskindarough @nik-knight @onceuponapuffin @quoththemaiden

1. How many works do you have on AO3? |

Currently two!

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

8,934 if I added right. I've written well beyond that but it's not published or published to AO3.

3. What Fandoms do You Write For?

Currently Good Omens! Back about 10 ish years ago, I used to write a lot of Hetalia and Pokemon (if you were on DA/Quotev and read reader inserts in the 2010s, I'm sorry) and also had a short stint with Yuri on Ice. If we go for never published stuff, Inuyasha.

4. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I do! I try my best to at least - I really like interacting with comments and seeing what people have to say!

5. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Actually yes - quite a few times! Tbh I wouldn't be surprised if they are still being stolen to this day by random Wattpad users (it was always fucking Wattpad). My fic "Just the Way You Are (BTT X Reader) [yes I was that songfic author - again I'm sorry] was stolen quite often, along with a few others. As a result I'm quite protective over my fics - used to do line editing so I could put my name extremely small in the text so when it was copy pasted my name showed up multiple times haha.

6. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

No! I haven't actually - did some creative writing prompts between people in discord before and am part of an ongoing project but as of this moment I haven't. Have helped my girlfriend with her own stuff but that's for the most part her own thing.

7. What's your all-time favorite ship?

Fuck I have to pick ONE? Sweating rn uhhhh... I have two of equal measure I can think of off the top of my head: AziraCrow (Aziraphale x Crowley - Good Omens) and Hualian (Hua Cheng x Xie Lian - Heaven Official's Blessing).

8. What are your Writing Strengths?

If I go off what people tell me: heavily immersive and visual writing. And characterization. And short form story writing.

9. What are your Writing Weaknesses?

My inability to focus on a single project, along with my terrible habit of starting fics on a whim before abandoning it because I have no idea where the story was going in the first place. My ADHD makes my motivation come and go like the wind so I can go months without updating anything, and led to a lot of my old ones getting abandoned. I also have a terrible habit of dragging scenes out because I tend to want to explain a lot of things, which leads me to procrastinate a lot when I can't think of how to describe what I want. I'm trying to get better at it. Oh, and a personal pet peeve of mine is not being able to write a fic under 5k words, because I don't like publishing shorter fics, especially self contained ones. I admire people who are able to publish shorter stories a lot, I just personally get really anxious over putting out something that wasn't at least 5 word document pages long as a chapter.

10. What was the first fandom you wrote for?

If we count unpublished and never seen the light of day, it was Inuyasha. It was a fic called "The Golden Arrow", which was based off a dream I had somewhere in the early 2010's. The only one who saw anything for it was a school friend of mine, and while I generally remember the gist of it, it's been lost to time for the most part, as it was written on an app on an old phone I have but lost the cord to.

If we wanna talk actually published to the internet, I'm pretty sure it was Pokemon.

#about me #katiefrog217 #tag game #fic writing #this was fun!!

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devilsainz · 1 year ago

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First, Thank you @watercolor-hearts for tagging me! when i saw it i knew it wouldnt be an easy task (mostly because i love to talk a lot lmao) but i liked the concept and felt that it would be interesting way to dive more into the ships i am fond of.

Pairing/Shippy list!

Here are the rules:

1. List your top seven ships.

2. Put them all in order for your love for them; 7 to 1, 1 being your favourite.

3. Name the fandom.

4. Put a picture of the guys in question.

7. Ziam (Zayn/Liam Payne) (One Direction)

weird way to start this list, since its not f1 related, and i very much believe it's a dead ship now. But honestly they deserve this honorable mention for being the first ship i adopted, and i didnt even care about One Direction or their music around that time (in fact i cant remember even how i stumbled upon this ship lmao). These two together just had so much chemistry for me, either on stage, interviews, or anything really. also they were my introduction to this whole idea of "ship" (Larry was the absolute more popular one obviously, but it was Ziam that really SUCKED me in like a vacuum cleaner). Unfortunately, Liam's distasteful comments last year bursted my bubble about them (even though he has explained this year he wasn't in a good place, and i personally think they are okay with each other, even though still distant), but i still like to watch their compilation videos on youtube sometimes, it's quite bittersweet :')

6. Martian (Sebastian Vettel/Mark Webber) (Formula 1)

honestly i feel i just dont put these two higher because they feel somewhat new to me, like i need to dive into them more. I just think its such a fun ship in the sense that it has a looot of things going on at the same time, their very public rivalry and the famous multi 21, mark's angry face at that one press conference, it could be so so angsty but they just make me laugh (also, the making love on track quote is now burned into my brain so in no way they could be out of this list).

5. Christian horner/Toto wolff (Formula 1)

okay okay this is the part yall realize im actually crazy. but... they DO have chemistry when they are interacting, even in their non-amicable moments, and i do love myself some good enemies to lovers. Obviously it helps that i think they both are very actrattive, sexy middle aged men that have hunger for victory and i believe they hold so much respect and admiration for each other, considering they are the two most sucessfull TP's at this point. Also, HEIGHT DIFFERENCE.

4. Versainz (Max Verstappen/Carlos Sainz) (Formula 1)

(i wanted to find that ONE gif where he lifts carlos a little so bad but this one will do) Oh, this one really rocketed fast into my favorites. I just think they are just so wholesome. I always feel Max is warmer towards a certain number of drivers, and Carlos is one of them. And i dont even ship them in a ... kind of way, even tho it makes sense in my head the narrative that both were each others "first's" before going into bigger ships. Its just that it feels so special that both debuted together as teammates and, both took different trajectories in the way their career planned out, but theres still a genuine connection between them, at least in my view.

3. Maxiel (Max Verstappen/Daniel Ricciardo) (Formula 1)

I know its weird because i dont really post about them. But this falls into the same category as versainz for me, except that here there's a kind of dynamic that it makes me go "hmm... interesting". I always like to see max smiling and being happy because this boy went thru so much in his childhood, and oh how Daniel knows how to bring this side of Max. If Max can be warmer to certain drivers, for Daniel he has a whole SOFT SPOT, and i think that's very endearing. IMO, Daniel feels like the person that changed him in deeper ways we know, that one person that was indirectly a "life teacher" to him maybe, and thats special to me.

2. Brocedes (Lewis Hamilton/Nico Rosberg) (Formula 1)

Oh, the ANGSTY in this one. yes, this one deserves the ANGSTY in all caps because to me that's them. Oh to have lived through their divorce must have been heartbreaking but what a freaking cinematic ship this one is. I just can't ignore it. How it feels to me that Nico is the one who wears his heart on his sleeve, while Lewis has that chilling Capricorn control over his emotions is so. just so. And the fact that Nico's legacy is forever entangled in Lewis' name. If a movie screenwriter would come up with this, i'd think it would be overdramatic, but no, theyre actually this unhinged.

Charlos (Charles Leclerc/Carlos Sainz) (Formula 1)

how do i even start talking about these two idiots? Okay, so obviously i think they're both very attractive and that definetely helped me to ship them lmao. But thats kind of reductive, because these two have sooo much chemistry in my opinion, even before their ferrari days, there was so much potential waiting to bloom, and it did. I love their banter, their competitiveness, how they can get childlike around each other sometimes. How they are so physical, how they make each other laugh (let me not talk about their gazes to each other or i will not end this today). I love how Carlos doesn't hide he wants to compete with Charles (which brings him unnecessary hate sadly), and how both respect each other in this stance. There's a bit of angsty underneath this soft/fluffy surface too (more from Carlos' perspective imo - but lets not forget Charles and Silverstone 2022 too - this is my charlos angsty origin story), but they still find their way, and that kind of compels me even more into them. I just think theres so many layers, multitudes, in the way we can create, write and read about them. Absolute favorites.

Tagging @schumiatspa and @sainzjpeg 😊

obviously, feel free to ignore if you dont want to play, no hard feelings around here ❤, and also 7 ships are quite a work! if you're not tagged but want to make your list, feel free to do it and consider yourself tagged by me 😘

#tagging game #charlos #maxiel #brocedes #martian #versainz #christian/toto #ziam

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golden--doodler · 1 year ago

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Geneuary Day Eleven: Keyboard/Candy

Linda: Ohh, Bobby, it's perfect!! Our Geney Zucchini's going to love these gifts for Christmas. You did so well. 🥰

Bob: Thanks, Lin. But, uhh, was it a good idea to give him both a noisy keyboard and a bunch of chocolate for Christmas?? I don't think we'll remember quiet for at least two weeks.

This is it. We made it guys. It's officially the last day of Geneuary!! This might be the most emotional I've been posting a piece of artwork. For this last piece, it *gasp* doesn't have Gene!! 😱 Crazy, I know. I decided to draw Bob and Linda along with Gene's signature keyboard and favorite candy, just to show how he got a love of Chunky Blast-Offs and his keyboard in the first place.

What a wild ride this month has been. Geneuary could not have been possible without the incredible support of everyone involved. I'd like to shoutout @drawthethingdoppelganger for making that beautiful, gorgeous graphic of all of the prompts for this month. And also for making that amazing Gene as Dolly Parton art.

I'd also like to shoutout @babsvibes, because her huge document on how to run a Ship Week was crucial in helping me run this month. I don't think I would've been able to do it without her document guiding me along (the only thing I wasn't able to do was have a separate blog, but we all know how that went ☠️). Babs was also technically the one who came up with the concept for Geneuary in the first place (both the name and having eleven prompts because of Gene being eleven).

I also must shoutout @unclefathersantateddy for being an absolute boss and making an extended Geneuary by making an entire page of Genes!! The final product is gorgeous, and I'm just in awe of their talent.

@br1ghtestlight was able to make two of the cutest fics for this month that everyone should go read!! One of them was a (sort of) collab with me.

@ratguy-nico reblogged almost all of my art with the sweetest comments, and his art for this month has been insane and beautiful. My favorite might still be the one with the Hot Dog family.

@dianadeadwing has also produced some of my favorite art this month. One of my favorites was the ballerina Gene she just posted yesterday. And of course, the one where Gene is hugging Bob 🥺❣️

I might've forgotten a person or two, but these are all of the main people I wanted to mention!! Thank you all!!

[ID]: Digital fanart of Bob and Linda from Bob's Burgers. Only their heads can be seen, and Bob looks more nervous, whilst Linda looks happier, with a huge grin on her face, and a heart next to her. A rather large keyboard is above them, along with a brown box with a spaceship on it. It reads: "Chunky Blast-Offs! Out of this World!"

#geneuary2024 #i AM sad this month is over but happier that it happened #i'm so happy that everyone has shown incredible amounts of creativity #nothing is more rewarding than seeing people create because of an event i put together #i don't think i'll ever get over how insanely talented this fandom is you guys rock #and none of this could've been possible without you so once again thank you❣️

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art-of-firefly · 1 year ago

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Hi there! I saw that you commented that the Japanese and Korean parts of the KnB fandom are still really active on Twitter - I was wondering if you had some hashtags / accounts on there to recommend to get started? I recently got back into KnB after years and have been so dejected at the lack of content (that I can find). Thank you so much for your time and help!

Of course, i'll be delighted to share them with you !

Little tip, if you follow several of them, you can be sure to discover new KnB artists every week thanks to the fanarts they retweet ! And I've probably forgotten a lot of those I follow.

Warning to anyone reading this : DON'T REPOST THEIR ART ANYWHERE ! Some people on Tumblr feel a little too comfortable reposting fanart on their blog, without the artists' permission and without giving credit. You must do both to be allowed to repost someone else's creation. And most of them don't speak English, so it won't be possible.

I'm on a crusade against art thefts i hate them so much you can't imagine.

Many artists delete their accounts and stop posting their works online when they notice it has been reposted. So if your morale isn't enough to stop you, remember that.

Now the fun stuff !

Links to their twitter accounts and some infos on what they draw the most. Personally, while I have a few favorite ships, none of them bother me and I love seeing new fanart, regardless of the ship featured. But if some of them aren't your cup of tea they'll be easier to avoid with the infos i added. Plus, I'm bad at organizing, so it's messy but it still took me waaay too long so I don't have the energy to change it.

NijiAka

m_wmin : Mostly Nijimura, Haizaki & Akashi. Also a lot of NijiAka and some NijiHai I'm in love with their artstyle i could cry looking at it

PG173AB : NijiAka, Akashi and Nijimura. Their art is beautiful and they post so often, So shiny and pretty <3 <3 <3

hhcf060419 : MayuAka, NijiAka, NijiAkaMayu, Their art is soooooo adorable

ninama_ak : NijiAka, MayuAka, NashAka

kasuge

MidoTaka

te_01r

mny__0

Tmr_yzr

0r0r_0r0r

an92679738

OhAasaNANO

yu_zu_cka : MidoTaka MuraHimu

moisama23

Mostly 1 character but they draw everyone

AKAXKB : Akashi

puyn888 : Shutoku

eijo_q : Aomine

1223_cbf : Akashi

omotikonetemasu : HAIZAKI ! No joke this is probably Haizaki N°1 fan and their art is so beautiful (also NijiHai)

kaiak425 : Akashi

qhshqhd : Akashi

TT_am618 : Kuroko

frappuccino_168 : Kuroko

P1EAS3 : Everyone, moslty GoM

hibi_krbs : Kise

kiriri_prsk : Akashi & Kuroko

otya_11071 : Kuroko, Kise and Akashi

14lumlum : Akashi

pipimo_m : Murasakibara & Kuroko

Akakuro

dazeee749

Vanilla_kurx17

home_otonari

inutaro63

SpearMint1412

MayuAka

Rouns_

kamiyama08k

mizunoseam

otasa_1203

cNsDSS5UY8vZlWd

Others

kur0413 : NijiHai

zncjo : KagaKuro

shi___o__ra3 : MuraHimu

chiyo_mr : AkaFuri

capGcap : KiKasa

ki_chiaa2 : Izuki & Hayama (HayaIzu ? IzuHaya ? IzuKota ? i don't know their ship name sorry, but the art is gorgeous)

gami_zm : Kagakuro

#knb #knb resources #kuroko no basket #kuroko's basketball #kuroko no baskeru

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dreaming-marchling · 11 months ago

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fic writer meme

Thank you @smilebackwards for tagging me!

1. How many works do you have on Ao3? 33

2. What's your total Ao3 word count? 1,855,326 per my stats page - it's kind of wild!

3. What fandoms do you write for? My current two mains are Shadowhunters and Fast and Furious. I have in the past posted stories for Daredevil, Merlin, Harry Potter, Torchwood, The Defenders, Sherlock, Four Brothers and Suits. I have other fandoms I've started fics in but not finished/posted

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos? Day Forty Seven [7055] Set Free [4285] Marked in Trust [4132] Listen [3934] Four Centuries and Also Nineteen Years [3876]

5. Do you respond to comments? I respond to all comments while the story is in progress and then for probably a couple of months after it ends before I stop. Unless someone asks a specific question, then I always respond. I wish I could do all of them ever but life makes it hard.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? I almost answered none of them before I remembered Addicted, which is about Brian and Dom hooking up during the first movie which I mostly wrote to prove to myself I could do smut. I'm pretty sure it ends with Brian realizing Mia (who he's supposed to be maybe getting together with as per the movie) heard them do that and Dom knew she would and from there Brian understanding that they're imploding even without him and the FBI.

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? Literally all the others, lol. I'm a happy ending girlie.

8. Do you get hate on fics? Yes, in the Shadowhunters fandom if I write Jace as a good parabatai. Occasionally for if I write Isabelle as a good sister or Clary as not a total piece of shit. Also sometimes if I write Alec in a way that suggests maybe Magnus isn't the greatest in the world who has suffered more than Alec ever will.

9. Do you write smut? Yes but I generally prefer the fade to black approach

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you have written? I've never written a crossover.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? Not that I'm aware of I don't think. I don't even know if I would want to know, like that would consume me in the worst way

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? Yes, but not as Marchling. All of the comments were telling me that the translator was changing things and it was a bad translation and the person doing it was getting really weird. It was just like a nightmare kind of so now I request no one translate my fics. I'm sure someone would do it better and I'm just being all oversensitive because I got burned once but I'd rather just not go down that road again.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? Yes, but also not as Marchling.

14. What's your all time favorite ship? I honestly don't think I have one, it really depends on my mood.

15. What is a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? Oh absolutely. I have a couple of Shadowhunters stories that I doubt will ever be finished because they just don't want to be written I think. I love the ideas but the ideas don't love me

16. What are your writing strengths? I think I write dialogue well. I try to make sure that I include some sort of realistic recovery even if the story is shorter. I like to experiment with formatting to help tell the story and I think it's generally effective

17. What are your writing weaknesses? I can't write drabbles. I am not good at action scenes. I don't do enough description.

18. Thoughts of writing dialogue in another language in fics? I've been corrected in the comments more than once, lol. I like to do the dialogue in another language but write the English in italics so even if I'm wrong everyone still knows what it was meant to be.

19. First fandom you wrote for? I was like 11 or 12 and I posted my first two stories at the same time. One for a fandom I won't name because they're still out there and it's small enough you could find them and I'd rather die. The other for Angel the TV series. I got more comments on the other fandom one and so I was embarrassed that the Angel one got way less and I deleted it lmao. Did I mention I was in middle school?

20. Favorite fic you have written? I am so proud of so many of my stories but I think the Marked in Trust series is always going to be just the tiniest bit extra special in my heart.

tagging literally anyone who wants to play

#My Writing

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acetypeface · 6 months ago

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3, 10, 20, 23

Salty Ask Game Answers, Pt. 1

For the sake of these questions, I will be talking about The Umbrella Academy, The Owl House, and Percy Jackson, as those are the three fandoms I care the most about ^.^

I'm going to get pretty salty (at least by my standards) so remember, these are just my opinions. I do not define right or wrong, and I don't claim to. Please don't come for me :)

3. Have you ever unfollowed someone over a fandom opinion?

Heh, I have. If you've hung around my blog for long enough (or gotten me yapping in your DMs), you might've cued in to the fact that I feel pretty strongly about the way some parts of the Umbrella Academy fandom treats Five. More specifically, the way he's sexualized and reduced to a dom daddy. It makes me very uncomfortable, as until recently (namely Season 4) he was in the physical body of a minor and being portrayed by a minor. Yes, he's technically in his late 50s, I fully understand that. But it personally really weirds me out, so yes, I've unfollowed others in the fandom over differences on that topic.

I can excuse murder, but I can't excuse pedophilia. /ref

10. Most disliked arc? Why?

Let's do a Percy Jackson answer for this one! I'm sorry, but Caleo. I do not like Caleo. That whole romance arc felt very unnecessary to me, not to mention Calypso is an immortal goddess?? And Leo is just a teen?? The age gap was a bit funky for sure. I love Uncle Rick, I'm so thankful to him for his unabashed inclusivity in his books, but I have such beef when it comes to his need to put all of his characters into romantic relationships. Yes yes they're teens, that's what teens do, but also! They don't all need romance! *sobs in aromantic*

*checks notes* No comments on The Owl House, 'tis a work of art and I have no complaints there, yes yes.

20. What is the purest ship in the fandom?

This answer comes from a place of pure bias, but Huntlow. I absolutely love Huntlow, and they're honestly so sweet and pure in my opinion. Plant girl and her tree boy; Willow, who struggles with self-image, and Hunter, who thinks she's the coolest thing since sewing machines; Hunter, who's used to taking orders and living to serve someone, and Willow, who helped teach him how to fight back and love himself. I could talk about these two for hours, I love them so so much.

Not to mention I love the bi/pan representation!! It's an excellent reminder that het-passing relationships aren't always heterosexual. Bi/pan erasure is uncool, me and the homies hate bi/pan erasure.

23. Unpopular character you love?

Coming full circle back to The Umbrella Academy, I'm going to say Viktor. He definitely isn't the most hated character in the fandom (that would probably be poor Allison) but I've seen a lot of negative opinions on him. And while I get where many of them are coming from, I could never hate Viktor. He's the character I relate to the most in The Umbrella Academy, and I see myself in a lot of his trauma. I may be a Five main, but Viktor has a very special place in my heart.

#the umbrella academy #tua #the owl house #toh #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo #vanya rambles #vanya has opinions

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stormblessed95 · 2 years ago

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Hi stormy!! You once told us that you watched bts contents with your partner and you just implied that two members of the group are may be romantically involved and he somehow guessed the members you're talking about? 😂 I'm not sure if i remember correctly but i remember reading that post intensely and with huge envy 😭 i so relate to that tweet: "my love language is watching bts contents together" i always tried to watch bts with my mom and sister (because I'm single af duh) but they sometimes indulged me but it's quite rare. They just don't like seeing me in hyperfixation mode. I'm also lucky enough to have got one of my friends to watch gcfintokyo with me but she was not that impressed 😌. She has the same reaction when i excitedly rambled to her JK LENT HIS STUDIO FOR JIMIN TO DO HIS BIRTHDAY LIVE, but then i guess maybe because she didn't know jk and jimin like us and why is it significant. So far, she only has watched bts bon voyage with me. Even with her calm reactions, I was so thankful to have at least someone to talk about my favourite boys. Sometimes I'm clearly aware none of them will have the same reactions as me and i know it's not their fault. They just were not interested. So I'm terribly jealous of you 😭 you both are so cute btw and I'm more than interested if you talk about your personal love story. I'm just rambling my immature feelings 😂 sorry if this is annoying and sorry for my english too. Also stormy, if you can, will you suggest some old contents that i should watch? Whenever i have free time to watch bts contents I'm always indecisive. Which concert or shows do you think is a must-watch for army?

I do watch some concerts with my partner! Not all, sometimes when I say I'm waking up at 3 am to watch the BTS concert he looks at me like I'm crazy and is like "okay babe, well I love you. Enjoy. Wear headphones please" 🤣 but if it's a rewatch (like PTD on Disney+ or just older concerts and he is free at the time) he will sit and watch with me and so will our kids. Same if the concert is happening at a more reasonable hour our time. Lol or will we all sometimes watch MVs, or Dance practices or run bts together. Not all the time, but it's nice when it happens!

And yes, lol I don't remember at all now what we were watching when it came up, since it was a long time ago. I hadn't mentioned before anything about shipping at that time, but i remember saying something about how even though shipping is so weird, sometimes it seems like there could be something there between 2 of the members. And he just went "oh yeah, you mean Jungkook and Jimin right?" And I said "why did you say them??" And he just made some off hand comment about how it seems like they act around each other from the little he has seen in ways that make it seem like they love each other the way he loves me. So for him if someone in the band was dating each other, it only made sense (in his head) for that to be jikook. For extra context, he is a Hobi bias, JK bias wrecker. And Jungkook was the first member he noticed and paid attention to in the group too. The hickey sealed the deal for him. He is pretty darn convinced at this point lol

Absolutely watch all of Bon Voyage or Run BTS if you haven't already! As for shows or concerts, you should go back to the beginning and see those if you can too! Their red bullet tour! The live Trilogy tour from 2015 too! Literally pull a concert tour name out of a hat for them and you can't go wrong honestly. LYSY concerts are INCREDIBLE. Any of those would be a really really good watch. 5th muster was EXCELLENT and should definitely be watched in full. I mean like honestly, pick ANYTHING and you'll have a good time! If you need help finding links to anything let me know and I'll try to help!!

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wander-wren · 2 years ago

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there’s always comment tips floating around tumblr but today it’s MY TURN BABEY i’m not covering Every Possible Comment, just my personal tips and tricks

pick a few default phrases. write them down even if you want!! my go-tos are “i love this so much” and “thank you for writing/sharing!!” and “omg this is perfect.” sometimes all of them together! i’m an overachiever so i usually go more in-depth, but just these sorts of things is great too

straight up just describe what you’re doing. “it’s 2am and im going to be so tired tomorrow but it was worth it i love this so much” (look theres a default phrase!!) “i’m sitting here crying into my chicken nuggets oh my god” “i laughed so hard reading this i woke up my dog”

if its a multi-chapter, try to predict whats coming! in a nice way, not demanding or “if xyz does/n’t happen i’ll riot” (unless its something guaranteed to happen, like “if [tagged pairing] dont get over themselves and kiss soon i’ll scream.”). esp if the fic is ongoing!! i’ve changed directions of longfics slightly bc of what readers predicted!! fanfic is a communal activity!!

speaking of ongoing fics: feel free to express excitement for future chapters but dont demand them, and DEFINITELY don’t let that be the only thing you say. “update soon!” is different from “oh wow i loved this bc xyz, cant wait to see what happens next!” the former makes it feel like a thankless chore, they latter feels like encouragement.

if a fic is not usually up your alley but you liked it, say so! just be polite. “i dont usually read [ship] but i was curious and i liked this bc xyz” is cool!! “i usually hate [ship] bc its gross/weird/toxic/etc and Other People always write [insert common trope] but this one was good” is less cool. you dont need to trash on the thing the author clearly likes, but it IS nice to know i could open you up to a new idea or something!

pick a line, any line, that made you laugh or “aww” or cry or get angry or ANYTHING. paste it in the comment box. write “this made me [insert emotion/reaction]” or “YESS/NOOO [character name]” or “oh my god i love this” or whatever floats your boat

if you want to go above and beyond, if i’m reading a longer work that i can already tell is gonna be a favorite, i just open the notes on my phone and copy paste all my favorite lines with my reactions as i go, then bam, ready-made comment

can guarantee (source: me) it will make a writer’s WEEK bc its like, barely any extra effort but it shows what made the most impact, and sometimes it makes someone see their stuff in a new light bc maybe they didn’t expect the line to hit that way! but woah! its so cool how different people experience art!!

also, comment when you reread. comment on older fics. if authors ask for suggestions or take requests, ASK. you get a thing you want, authors get interaction and cool fun ideas, it’s a win-win! everyone else is just as awkward and anxious and starved for human communication as you i SWEAR

also leave nice things in bookmarks bc that EXTRA makes my day when i remember to check once every six months. plus it helps future me remember why i bookmarked it

#wren wrambles #ao3 #comments #fanfiction #fandom #fandom etiquette #comment etiquette #i havent been getting bad comments or anything i only got one hate comment in my life #i just felt like putting this out there #and i kept thinking of stuff to add whoops

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eddisfargo · 2 years ago

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Not a day will go by (9/?)

Hello my patient friends! Sorry for the wait! It won't be this long again (for real this time)! This is a Christmas fic for last year's Secret Santa, and I've given myself a deadline to finish it before this year's secret Santa. Specifically, I'm trying to finish before December 18, which is mine and @cosette141's birthday! Thanks so much to everyone who's still reading and leaving comments--they keep me going when my brain refuses to write! Thanks especially to @MotherKat for being the best beta EVER! I'm going all out in November, and I've actually already got Chapter 10 written!! So it won't be too long!

Tagging: @resident-of-storybrooke, @everything-person, @teamhook

AO3 Ch 1 Ch 2 Ch 3 Ch 4 Ch 5 Ch 6 Ch 7 Ch 8 Ch 9

Summary: He may not remember his present, but she doesn't know his past. If she did, she wouldn't have married him… right?

Let’s go home .

She’d said it so simply, leading him back to the yellow machine, as if the concept of home was a given. A home they evidently shared. With a boy who he supposed was his… stepson. Because that had gone so well for him in the past.

Home .

The Jolly was his home. Perhaps he should start staying there, rather than in that house he didn’t remember. Should he suggest it? She’d probably be relieved. Or perhaps she’d worry that he’d simply sail away. Perhaps she’d be right.

“Babe?” Her voice jolted Hook out of his thoughts, and he realized he’d hesitated outside the door of the building.

He looked at her, working out how to phrase his intention to return to his ship without arousing her suspicions. “I don’t –” he began.

She’d started talking at the same time, her face falling. “Sorry, I shouldn’t – Killian. Probably not Babe right now, right?” she laughed awkwardly. Truthfully, he hadn’t been called by his given name for so long that it felt more familiar than any pet name, but he elected not to correct her. Leaning against the wall, she let out a breath when he didn’t finish his thought. “Is something wrong?”

Hook tried to find the words he’d come up with, but she looked so… tired. “Nothing,” he said finally.

Emma looked at him for a long moment, searching. Hook had been prepared for the suspicion in her eyes. He hadn’t been prepared for what else he saw there. It was nothing he could easily name, but it made his lips go dry. Breaking eye contact, Hook started walking in what he hoped was the correct direction, if he’d oriented himself correctly – being instantly transported what seemed to be at least a mile was testing the limits of his sense of direction – but he had a feeling that this was the right way. To his relief, Emma began to walk beside him.

They walked in an uncomfortable silence for a time, until Emma cleared her throat. “So… I guess we’re going to have to tell Henry.”

Hook frowned. He’d thought he was doing alright at deceiving the boy. “Are we?”

She looked at him like he was talking nonsense. Again. “It’s a little big to keep from him, right? And maybe… maybe he can help.” She smiled fondly. “This kind of thing is kind of right up his alley.”

Hook opened his mouth to ask what exactly qualified under this kind of thing . But he couldn’t stop seeing the looks directed his way in that little room just now – the significant glances as certain things went unsaid. He… owns the local pawn shop .

So he asked a different question. “What are you going to tell him?”

She looked a bit pained. “ We are going to tell him the truth.” Shooting him a sidelong look, she added, “An… age appropriate version, if you don’t mind.”

Ahh, after his slip-up, she’d lost any faith in his ability to regulate his mouth. That had been an error, but clearly she had no idea just how much he had managed to keep to himself. And that, of course, was how it would stay. To demonstrate, he only grunted his agreement.

“And hey,” Emma added after a moment. “Maybe you’ll remember much you – how fond you are of the kid.”

Hook grimaced. So it was true, his future self had been playing at fatherhood. And here he thought he’d learned from his mistakes.

Suddenly, the woman beside him took his hand.

“Hey,” she said, pausing in their walk. “What are you thinking?”

He was thinking that trusting him with a child’s well being was ill-advised, but he wasn’t fool enough to say it, so he remained silent. It was only when she squeezed his hand that he realized that, almost of their own accord, his fingers had laced through hers. This betrayal by his own remaining limb shocked him into honesty. “That I’m not exactly stepfather material.”

Her mouth opened in surprise. Fool , he chided himself. He removed his hand from hers and started walking again, faster.

“Killian,” she said, arresting him. Facing away from her, he didn’t have to see her face. Instead, he saw another face. It had been so long since he’d indulged in this particular remembrance that the face in his mind seemed to have changed, attaining a marked resemblance to Emma’s boy. He felt a wave of grief he hadn’t allowed himself to acknowledge for longer than he could recall.

“Killian!” she said again. He turned to face her. “You’re a wonderful stepfather.” She radiated sincerity, but she didn’t know . She looked so bloody sympathetic . “I can see why you might… doubt this, but you’re actually a great role model.” She smiled mischievously at him. “Most of the time.”

He felt the strange urge to reveal a part of his past that would doubtless make her question this strange opinion she seemed to have formed of his suitability. To unburden himself – no , to make her see why whatever perfect man she thought she’d married was a lie. Then perhaps she’d let him go.

“There are things…” he said, keeping his voice steady with more effort than it usually took. “In my past… things you couldn’t possibly –”

Incredibly, her face cleared. She reached out to touch his face, and he managed not to pull away. “Oh,” she said, as if she understood, although there was no way she could. “You’re thinking about Baelfire.”

Hook froze.

Impossible.

“How…” he breathed. “How do you…”

“Killian,” she said gently. “Do you really think I married you without knowing the significant events in your life?”

He found himself unable to answer. How could he open his mouth and say yes, of course he thought that. Why would a woman like she seemed to be have married him otherwise? “I…” he managed to say, with effort. “I told you?”

“You told me all of it, eventually,” she said. But she couldn’t possibly know what all of it entailed, not if she was looking at him with such… sympathy in her eyes. She bit her lip suddenly, taking his hand. “But some of it… I heard from Baelfire.”

The words knocked him breathless for the second time in as many minutes. He was vaguely aware that he was being led into the relative privacy of a small alley behind a shop, but his thoughts were a jumble.

“Baelfire?” he rasped. “You… you’ve met him? He survived?” Hook had always wondered what became of the boy after his escape. When he’d let himself think about it at all, he’d feared the worst, and laid the blame… where it belonged. The guilt hung heavy around his neck–guilt he allowed himself to feel for precious few of his crimes.

She looked very sad, suddenly. “He survived Neverland, yes. He got out. But…” As Emma trailed off, closing her eyes, Hook could see the truth in her face. He started to ask something – anything – but found himself unable to speak.

Emma took his hand and held it to her face, which he found strangely comforting. Softly, she continued. “He forgave you, you know. Before the end.” Hook shook his head, denying the possibility. “It’s true, you made up,” she continued, quietly but firmly. He tried his damndest to maintain his skepticism, but the sincerity in her eyes left no room for doubt. Still, he kept shaking his head, because it was all he could do. Baelfire . Milah’s boy.

Somehow, without realizing she’d drawn towards him, he was in Emma’s arms, utterly disgracing himself. He had never shed a tear over Bae. He’d used the last of his tears up after Milah, he’d always believed. But perhaps the grief had always been there, just waiting for somewhere safe to be expressed. Safe . With this woman? This stranger ? She was probably repulsed by his show of weakness, in broad daylight behind a shop that sold shoes.

He couldn’t bring himself to look at her, but as his senses filtered back, he could feel one of her hands rubbing his back, feel fingers running through his hair. Could hear soft words, gentle words, whispered in his ear. No one had ever… no one had ever tolerated such a display from him. Nor would he have given anyone the chance. Not since he was almost too small to remember… Not since he’d realized his father wasn’t coming back.

Hook jerked up suddenly, mortified. What had possessed him to take leave of his senses that way? He had never, never let himself break down like that in front of another person–if he ever had at all. He couldn’t bear to look at her, to see the expression . A grimace, surely? No, somehow she didn’t seem the type. Pity, then. Any revulsion, she’d be kind enough to hide. Steeling himself, he straightened. With more reluctance than he’d like to think about, he pulled out of her arms, and finally looked her in the eye.

And found he couldn’t look away.

There were tears in her eyes too. Not pity, no. But sympathy. Even… understanding. Perhaps even… well. Something more.

He cleared his throat. “I… apologize,” he said stiffly, “for–”

“Hey,” Emma said softly. “You have nothing to apologize for, sweetheart. I should’ve realized you’d have to grieve him again.” She took his hand yet again. “But you know… in a way, he’s not really gone.”

Hook frowned. “What way is that, precisely?”

“Well, Henry’s his son.”

Hook staggered back. Just when he’d thought the earth-shattering revelations were done for the day. “He’s what?” At Emma’s small smile and nod, he shook his head, unable to process. “But how ?”

“Hoo boy,” Emma said gravely. “I kind of thought at your age you’d have figured out the facts of life. Okay, so sometimes, when a man and a woman–”

“I know bloody how! ” Hook said quickly. Did she really think–no, of course she didn’t. Her eyes were twinkling at him. Catching himself about to smile back, he frowned instead. “But he was… he was a child! ”

“Umm, yeah. He was a child. Like twenty through two hundred years ago. The thing about not being in Neverland is… you grow up. By the time we met, even physically, he was older than me.”

Hook tried to readjust some things in his head. Of course Baelfire was older than Emma–Bae had likely been older than anyone else alive, saving himself. And perhaps the Crocodile, if he somehow still walked the earth. But it still felt strange to think of him with a son . A son with… Hook’s wife? He put a hand to his head, trying to understand. Realizing he’d started to pace the alley, he used his nervous energy to resume their walk.

Perhaps it was a lie? But no… he’d met the lad. The resemblance was there, now that he considered it. Gods, but he’d even mistaken the boy for Bae – for his father – at first glance.

A sudden realization hit him. “Did I… steal you from him?” The thought of it bothered him more than he would’ve expected. It wasn’t as if he’d considered a married woman off limits, but breaking up the same boy’s family twice seemed rather bad form. Especially after everything else he was responsible for, where Baelfire was concerned.

“No,” Emma said firmly, “you did not. We didn’t formally get together until after he was gone, but even before that… Neal and I weren’t together. There was a lot of baggage between us, and… it would never have worked out anyway.”

Hook walked silently for a moment, trying to figure out what he’d missed. He’d heard that name recently… He finally placed the context in which he’d heard it, but that just created more questions... With a sigh, he finally asked. “Who’s Neal?”

“Oh! Sorry! I meant Baelfire. Neal’s the name he went by when I knew him.”

“Ahh,” he said. But no, that didn’t solve the puzzle. “And why was he… teething?”

There was a moment in which Emma looked as confused as he felt, before she burst out laughing.

“Okay, that’s a different Neal. The little munchkin my parents were holding? Baelfire’s namesake.”

It took him a moment to connect those particular dots, the unfamiliar word “munchkin” not particularly helping, but it was clear enough what she was telling him. Evidently his wife’s first husband was beloved enough by her family that they named their son after him. That was a lot to live up to.

Not, of course – he reminded himself – that he was going to try. He was going to get on his ship and sail away. Leave this town that did nothing but confuse him. Leave this woman who kept looking at him in that infuriating way, as if she understood him. As if he mattered to her. She didn’t know him. Regardless of what shameful secrets she apparently knew, had apparently forgiven him for.

She’d be fine if he left. He was beginning to think she might cry for a while, but… He walked faster, as if to escape the idea. Beside him, Emma sped up, staying by his side. She gave him a warm smile as they reached the door to their house. Hook started. He hadn’t even been thinking about where he’d been going, but he hadn’t been following Emma, either. Once again, his feet had led him straight here.

The word home entered his mind, unbidden. Shivering, he walked inside.

#Captain Swan #Killian Jones #Emma Swan #OUaT #once upon a time #fanfiction #Not a day will go by

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gaypirate420 · 3 years ago

Text

Twenty first century// James Hook

Captain James Hook x male!reader.

The captain woke up on the docks, the last thing he remembers is almost being swallowed by the crocodile, he sat down still a little disoriented but he quickly realized that he wasn't on the island anymore, he was back on London but it felt different. It looked almost the same.

You were taking some pictures with your phone when you spotted a man on the docks, clearly confused, you decided to go and help him.

"Are you alright?" You asked softly, the captain turned around and looked at you up and down, you did the same, he was wearing some 17th century clothing.

"I do not think I am." He said, you nod confused and got a bit closer.

"Do you need medical attention?" You asked him, he inspected himself for injures he patted his chest and hissed.

"I'll take that as a yes, I will take you to the nearest hospital, Follow me, my car is over there" You said kindly, the man was confused but he wasn't on a state to refuse, you waited to see if he could walk, then you realized the hook we used, you decided not to comment and keep walking to your car, the captain saw the machine and stopped and so did you.

"Is something wrong?" You asked, he shakes his head and get into the car, you started to drive and occasionally looked at the man.

"And what's your name?" You asked him, he has been looking from the window all this time.

"James" He said, his voice sounded a little raspy.

"My name's (y/n)" you said and there was silence again, you got into the hospital and help James to get inside, he was quickly attended, you were filling some papers.

"Are you his family or partner?" A nurse asked you.

"No I found him on the docks and gave him a ride" you said, the nurse nod and told you that you could left, you waited outside on your car, you didn't know if you should go already, you keep looking at your phone for a while when your friend texted you.

Boy, where you at???

We were going to the club!

You read the message and didn't know what to answer.

I found a man on the docks, I'm outside the hospital.

You said and decide to ignore your friend a little, you ended up thinking it was best to go but when you were going to turn your car on you receive a call.

"Is this (y/n) (l/n)" the voice of the nurse that you talk to earlier was heard.

"Yes"

"I think you should return, the man you bring.." she stopped and lowered her voice.

"I don't think, he has a a family...or at least not here or um, alive, we asked him but he didn't answer most of the questions, he only mentioned your name" she said, you sigh and got out of your car.

"Alright then, I'll see what can I do for him" you said and hang up, you got into the hospital and got were he got attended, you stood Infront of him, he looks at you.

"Do you have somebo-"

"No"

"Alrighty, I think I could give you a ride to dunno...maybe have a meal or something" you said, he nod unconvinced, you got him out of the hospital and again into your car.

"I am truly ashamed about my behavior, I should have thank you earlier for helping me" James spoke, you smiled at him.

"It's alright, I'm glad you are fine" you said kindly.

"And what's your story?" God, where you really asking some stranger about his personal life!?.

"What ever do you mean by that?" He asked clearly confused.

"Um, where are you from? How old are you?" You said.

"I cannot recall a lot about my life" He said a little down, he looked very affected by that.

"Oh, well..." You said awkward.

"I used to be the captain of a ship only moments ago, and now I am back on England" he said, a sailor, right, now this is the time were you call the police right?.

"I see you so haven't been on England for a while, how much?" You asked curious, now getting your eyes out of the road, you didn't know where to go honestly, so you just unconsciously drive to your home, there where some restaurants near.

"That depends" He paused.

"What...year is it?" He asked unsure, he knew you would call him crazy or something, your eyes widen in surprise.

"Um, 2021" you said, the captain seem to have a big realization, he disassociated a little bit.

"Hey are you alright?" You looked at him conserned, he come back to reality and look at you.

"I-I am, the last time I was here...it was 1850 if I remember correctly" he said, you gasped, now it's time to call the police, but you didn't.

"And how old where you in that time?" You asked, he sigh, he understood the curiosity.

"I was probably on my forties.." he said, you nod.

"Wait, no, I was thirty seven years of age" he said, he looked like the memory just came back to his head, huh, he was just a couple of years older than you.

"And then, me and my crew got into an island, I never knew how I got in there and being honest, I don't know how I got out and ended on the docks" he said, you passed the restaurants and decided to get to your home, he didn't seem ready to the modern word, yes, you decided to believe him.

"You were there all this time?" You were parking the car.

"Yes" he answered.

"Fuck, that's messed up" you said, he quickly looked at you.

"I think we should order something, you know to let you rest, and all that" you said, he nodded and got out of the car, you grabbed your keys and opened the door.

"Welcome to my home, it's a little messy" you said with a smile, the captain inspected your home, it didn't seem very modern, after all your home was an old victorian house.

"Do you want, um, Chinese or maybe some tacos?" You asked him, he was inspecting the tv.

"I do not think I own the right to choose the aliment in your home" he said, you nod and decided to order some mexican food.

"And what's like your full name?" You said, getting into the kitchen and grabbing some water for him, he was sitting on the couch.

"James Hook" he said, first of all, that's definitely not a real last name and, was it because of the hand? You though.

"Sounds like a the name of a pirate" you said, he looks at you and grabs the glass of water.

"But with the current events sounds right" you said jokingly, he nods, he didn't seem to understand your humor but at least he didn't ignored you.

"I always wanted to be a pirate" You sat besides him and turned on the TV, the captain seem to be very interested in it.

"Did you go to school?" Was it offensive to ask a pirate about their education? You asked too many questions, the captain notice that quickly, but he appreciated the kindness in them.

"I attended the Eton on my youth, and later to Oxford" he said proudly, you looked at him.

"well damn, that's some good and expensive education you got going on" you said impressed.

"Indeed, I came from a wealthy but tragically unloving family" he said, you nodded.

"I didn't attend a fancy school, but I make clothes pretty good if I say so myself" you said.

"The job of a tailor is always appreciated" he said sincerely.

You keep talking with him while you waited for the food, he did have some missing memories, but the many years of adventures were intact, you decided to search his name on the Eton site after looking between the many James's he spot himself.

James Morris Barrett

It looks like he was a very dedicated student, by that you got information about his family, not a lot but at least you could confirm that he was infact from the 1800's, he keep asking about the modern word and you kindly answer all his doubts.

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

Someone knocked on the door it was the food delivery, you paid for it and leave it in the table.

"Want some tacos?" You asked him, he looked at the food.

"No thank you, I am not hungry" he said, you sigh.

"I think you should eat something, you are injured and you need the nutrients and shit" you didn't comment it, but he looked very damaged, like he didn't sleep or eat.

"I am in not need of food, thank you" he said but he did make you company on the table, you decided not to push it and you began to eat your tacos.

You finished and you didn't know what to do with the captain, you obliviously weren't going to leave him on the street.

"I have another room, with a bed and all that" you commented.

"Thank you, I do not have a place to stay" he said, you smiled and guided him to the guests room.

"The bathroom is over there, you can use it, If you want I can look throught my closet to find you some clothes, I think I own some piraty shit" you said, he nodded and you bring him a towel, you got into your closet and began to search, you find some of your pirate shirts, and some old medieval pants that you used for a costume years ago.

"Here I think those would fit" you said, the captain was inspecting the pride flag that hung on one of the walls, you sigh please don't be homophobic.

"That's a pride flag, you know the gayssss, wait no , gay had a whole different meaning in your time, um" you said, he looks at you in confusion, a little smile on his face, he seem to find your humor adorable but he didn't show it.

"The homosexuals" you said, he looked a little fruity, but you obviously didn't want to assume anything.

"Is the flag a form of rebellion against the queen?" He asked.

"I mean, not the queen herself, the whole word, the flag is to show the pride we have of being ourselfes" you said, he was shoked and you knew it.

"I never thought there will be a time where I could be publicly prideful about being a fairy" he said, you smiled.

"Now you can" you said kindly, you let him shower, while the captain was trying to now how the shower worked you were texting your friend.

He is hot and gay!1!1!1

Man, you disappeared all day and that's your answer after telling me you were with a stranger on the hospital!

You chuckled and explained a little o f the history to your friend, you obviously didn't tell them that James was from the 1800's.

The captain got out of the shower and he looked a little better, you tried to convince him again to eat something but he denied, he checked his injury and it looked like it was healing properly.

"I will be on the room upstairs, so if you need anything you can call me" you said.

"I once again, thank you for your patience and kindness, I am truly grateful for your actions" James said his eyes fixated in yours, he got a little closer, he was taller than you, he got a shower and now his confidence was back, you smiled.

"Don't worry, Cap" you said and got upstairs, the captain got into the room and sat on the bed, it was so soft, way softer than the one on his cabin, he sighed, he knew he wasn't going to rest a bit but at least he was comfortable, he remembered that the doctor gave him medication, he took them and swallow the pills, the pain got away after some minutes.

The hour passed by and the captain's mind was filled with thoughts, he never thought about his family, but know everyone is dead, family and friends, he doesn't know what happened to his crew, he is all alone in a place that is basically new, he felt tears on his eyes, his breathing was getting out of control, images of past events in his head.

You got up, it was 3:00 am, you sigh and got downstairs for some water, you passed your guest room and heard some sobbing, you knocked in the door but didn't have an answer you opened the door.

"Hey, what happened?" You asked softly, still a little sleep, the captain was on the floor and had his hand on his face and his hook was cutting him on his leg after it made a cut on his cheek.

"Oh my god, let me bring some stuff for that" you moved quickly, the captain tried to calm himself but nothing worked.

"I'm back, hey, it's alright, what happened?" You asked, your tone was still soft, James was struggling to explain his state.

"Alright, It's alright, James" you comfort him, you cured the wounds, the captain successfully took off his hook and put it on the floor, you sat besides him and tried to help him, he was shoked after he realized that you actually knew what to do.

"there, felling better?" You asked you put your head on his shoulder and with your hands grabbed his.

"Y-yes" he said.

"Alright, what made you feeling like this?" You asked softly, the captain sigh.

"You would think that I am completely crackers, love" he said, you laughed a little.

" you think? Not when you told me you were a pirate or when you told me about the 1800's, I think I'm the one who's crackers for believe you and let you stay on my home" You said, he giggled a little.

He told you about everything, the island, Peter, the crocodile and other stuff of his past that were still tormenting him.

"And know I'm cursed with those memories, I cannot rest one night" He explained, you didn't know what to say.

"You need a hug" you said, he looks at you confused.

"And a therapist" you stood up and help him stand, he sigh and you hugged him.

"But I can only give hugs" you said, he corresponded the hug with a little smile, he felt warm, he was crazy for accepting the hug, but you were crazier for giving it.

"We can watch a movie if you want, uh haha, we should watch pirates of the caribbean" you said giggling, the captain agreed and got to the living room with a blanket, he stayed all night seeing the movies.

#captain james hook #captain hook #peter pan 2003 #james hook #jason isaacs #pirates #x male reader #lgbt #captain hook x male reader #captain hook x reader

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miraculouscontent · 3 years ago

Text

Hi, Adrien is handed things on a silver platter whereas Marinette has to work for them.

First thing’s first is just the concept of the love square. Chat Noir gets to interact with Ladybug no matter what because they’re heroes. Ladybug - who carries the weight and responsibility of heroism without getting benefited from it - is required to go to every battle due to her purification ability, and Chat Noir of course is going to show up because he loves both flirting with Ladybug and the freedom of being a superhero.

In addition, Adrien got his miraculous by helping Master Fu up (something that would be expected out of any semi-decent person; by the way, yes, I know the “””significance””” of the action, and it’s silly), whereas Marinette saved him from being hit by a car.

Adrien was allowed back in school with still no explanation from Gabriel (especially since he’s Hawk Moth) as to why he thought it was a good idea to send his son to a school where the very first akumatization had happened. It was Adrien’s goal for the episode alongside making friends, and Nino offered him friendship out of pity when Adrien sulked about how Chloe was the closest thing to a friend he had.

Chat crushes on Ladybug because she stood up to Hawk Moth in a speech dripping with confidence, caught what seemed like hundreds of akuma, and came up with a plan quick enough to save Mylene and Ivan from falling to their deaths from the top of the Eiffel Tower. Marinette (who Chat fell in love with one side of first, mind you, so already this is to his benefit), meanwhile, crushes on Adrien because the narrative gave her a falsehood about him never having any friends (i.e: no Chloe) and he gave her an umbrella while he was ten meters away from his actual ride (like with Fu, again, any decent person--).

Chat’s crush on Ladybug makes things harder for her because it causes him to throw tantrums mid-battle, get distracted and distract her because he’s busy flirting, all of which make her feel guilty for not returning his feelings. Marinette’s crush on Adrien makes things hard for her again because it causes her to embarrass herself while virtually everyone who knows teases/mocks her for it, their opinions of her even being dragged down due to the crush (see Alya with the Lila situation).

Chat is shipped with Ladybug by Parisians everywhere and Alya delighted in taking a picture of them kissing (that got posted on the Ladyblog without Ladybug’s consent). Likewise, the other LadyNoir kiss (that Ladybug had to do to free Chat from Dark Cupid’s control) was shown on live TV for all watching to see. Marinette’s kisses with Adrien, however, were either wiped from the timeline (in which Adrien got to keep a secret from her so he could date “””Ladybug”””) or used to humiliate her because Adrien was attempting a prank.

Ladybug realizes that Chat is in serious about her, not because he told her himself, but because he relayed it to Marinette who happened to be Ladybug. Marinette, on the other hand, has spent 3+ seasons attempting to confess her feelings to Adrien or make advances on him, all of which ended in some form of failure and some of which through no fault of her own.

Chloe shoved her in “Bubbler” (Adrien didn’t even check on her) and then Nathalie crushed the note she’d written on a scarf that Marinette put tons of time and effort into, leading to Adrien thinking it was from his dad.

“Copycat” was accidental and came on too strong, requiring its deletion.

She got distracted by Alya and forgot to write her name in “Dark Cupid,” her letter only further solidifying Chat’s crush on Ladybug.

She kept getting interrupted in “Gamer” after Alya chided her for using the event to get with Adrien (despite Alya doing the same thing for Marinette during the film in “Horrificator” while Mylene was MIA).

She wasn’t able to tell Adrien about Lila’s thievery in “Volpina” because the grimoire had to remain a secret.

The hat in “A Christmas Special” got given away within minutes and then not even brought back on-screen by Miraculous Ladybug (Adrien never even thanked Marinette personally for it).

Kagami came out of nowhere to take the fencing spot in “Riposte.”

Deciding not to make schemes only led to her embarrassment in “Gigantitan.”

She got made fun of and the notes all conveniently looked the same in “Backwarder,” leading to her mixing them up.

The macaron for Adrien (that Marinette would prepare every week) never got eaten by him and ended up causing the akuma after Chloe had emotionally manipulated Marinette into scheming with her.

Practicing on a statue (as per Tikki’s advice) in “The Puppeteer 2″ humiliated her when Adrien revealed himself as the statue.

She was embarrassed during the party in “Party Crasher” because she was pressured into dancing without her consent.

The timeline had to be reset in “Chat Blanc” and she had to lie to her friends that she hadn’t given Adrien the gift even though she’d actually succeeded, while the hat she made just for Adrien got written off as a gift from a random fan (which is an even worse fate than the scarf).

The confession in “Felix” was deleted by Felix himself before Adrien could see it.

And Adrien, meanwhile? Ohhhh boy, lemme tell you about Adrien.

He gets put into suggestive/close positions with Ladybug on many, many occasions, all for “free.”

He got a kiss from Ladybug in “Dark Cupid” that, remember, got photographed and put on live TV.

He got to goad the audience without consequence about he and Ladybug potentially being in a relationship eventually - gaining the knowledge that all of Paris was invested in LadyNoir to thoroughly stroke his ego - and then Ladybug had to act like they were a couple in “Prime Queen” to the point of holding Chat’s hand and saying that they were in love.

Likewise, “Glaciator” featured Ladybug having to act like a couple with him again, now to the point of kissing his cheek, and then Chat got a blush from her after he’d spent a good chunk of the akuma battle pouting that Ladybug didn’t come to the date he set up (that she hadn’t even known was a date because he purposefully withheld that information) despite her telling him that she’d have to see about it because she had plans.

He was reassured in “Anansi” on being “irreplaceable” after he made an unnecessary comment about being replaced by a turtle (Carapace).

He got to carry Ladybug around bridal style and also save her in “Sandboy” and “Reverser” respectively because she was rendered essentially useless without him, then got to save her again in “Frozer” after giving her the cold shoulder for rejecting his feelings.

He’s the one who got told by Marinette’s own parent not to apologize for how he feels in “Weredad” (note that Marinette herself never got this talk from Sabine, nor Tom, which very much could’ve prevented “Crocoduel”).

He got a cheek kiss from Ladybug in “Desperada” after getting to undo the very-much-against-the-rules identity reveal he made to her via Second Chance.

He got to look good in “Gamer 2.0″ when Ladybug was seeking advice from him despite the fact that her and Chat’s situations hero-wise are absolutely, completely, 100% different and he didn’t even try to take that into account.

He got Ladybug resting her head on his shoulder because of what she saw in a deleted time in which he - unbeknownst to her - lied by omission.

A fake Ladybug tried to kiss him on two separate occasions, “The Puppeteer 2″ and “Ladybug,” much to his delight (something to note is that the fake Adrien who went after Ladybug in both “Chameleon” and “Felix” tried to force themselves on her).

He got the “jealousy” moment from Ladybug in “Heart Hunter” and then a hug from Aquabug in “Miracle Queen.”

He received no repercussions for taking Ladybug out on a date (that she wasn’t aware was going to be a date) in “Gang of Secrets,” at best having to apologize for her behavior to the people around them.

He got reassured that Ladybug “couldn’t do this without him” in “Guiltrip,” even to the point of being told that she “probably doesn’t tell him enough.”

He got told by Ladybug that she would never abandon him in “Hack-San” because he was guilting her sulking about how his not knowing her identity would mean that he’d never see her again if she left him somehow.

And before you think this only extends to the romantic aspects of love square, let me tell you now that it definitely doesn’t.

Marinette entered the bowler hat competition and had to defend her own work to the judge.

She ran for class representative and had to earn the trust and faith of her class in “Darkblade” when put up against Chloe’s bribery.

She did whatever she could to make sure Juleka got her picture taken in “Reflekta.”

She had to actually craft a pair of glasses suitable for Jagged Stone in “Pixelator” and then make a gorgeous album cover for him in “Guitar Villain.” (note that this partially led to “Troublemaker” where she was just happily wanting to advertise her parents’ business, and the writers multiplied her Adrien pictures for the sake humiliating her when it was caught on live TV)

She had to work to get ungrounded by improving her attendance in “Simon Says,” because she had been busy being a hero.

She worked to try and get Nathaniel and Marc to get together on a project, knowing it would be good for both of them.

She set up an entire celebration for her bully to try and make said bully feel good about herself in “Malediktator.”

She did Kitty Section’s designs and costumes in “Silencer” and then had to go protect them from being stolen, along with her friends’ music.

She had to wear multiple miraculouses in “Kwamibuster” in order to go against Kwamibuster and get back both the ladybug earrings and the cat ring.

“Gamer 2.0.” Just... “Gamer 2.0.″

She made a whole complex lockbox to protect the Miracle Box in “Gang of Secrets.”

She worked to reach out to Zoe in “Sole Crusher” even after Zoe trashed her in front of the school, going as far as to try and comfort Zoe’s akumatized form.

She had to stand up for the movie to be fixed in “Queen Banana” because no one else would.

She has to work each and every akuma battle as Ladybug, figuring out Lucky Charms that can range from simple to complicated, while simultaneously dealing with a partner who relies heavily on her plans and will occasionally make things harder by either throwing tantrums mid-battle or distracting her.

And meanwhile...

Chat Noir got to throw the blame onto Ladybug for Theo’s akumatization in “Copycat.”

Marinette covered for him in “The Collector” when he was the one who recklessly lost the grimoire by not being careful with it.

He got handed Fu’s identity in “Syren” after whining to Ladybug, throwing blame on her and trying to bribe Plagg so they’d tell him, threatening to quit while Paris was underwater, and all of this while Marinette herself only got to meet Fu because she had the grimoire on her.

He was given the moral high ground in “Malediktator” despite not having to actually care about Chloe enough to call/check on her.

He got to sit back in “Chameleon” and not concern himself with judgment or comment on the situation with Lila, even going into “Ladybug” where he continues to inform no one about Lila (including Marinette, who briefly believed that Lila came to her senses and was willing to make amends) after Lila got Marinette expelled, despite the complete lack of risk on his part considering who his father is and how harshly Lila would be dragged through the mud if she dared to trash his reputation.

He clumsily trips in “Captain Hardrock” in a fashion that reveals an instrument he happens to play, leading to him getting invited to join Kitty Section within seconds of being on the Liberty. (so when Adrien is clumsy, it’s to his benefit, and when Marinette is clumsy, it’s to her detriment)

He never got called out for distracting Ladybug and digging for details that could relate to her identity in “Kwamibuster” (which, again, forced Marinette to do all the work to fix things).

He got a party thrown for him in “Party Crasher” by Nino, and also guys that Adrien had never put forth effort into interacting with or befriending (Marinette had also been through more with all of them sans Nino).

He got to force Ladybug’s favorite traits of his out of her in “Truth” because she was under the influence of Truth’s powers.

He got off the hook for sacrificing himself in “Lies” by flirting about Ladybug’s “irresistible angry little pout,” and also never got repercussions for flirting with another girl while dating Kagami.

He never had to face consequences for smashing a chimney in “Sentibubbler,” even as he was dismissing the gesture because he knew Miraculous Ladybug would fix it.

He didn’t have to apologize for his behavior in “Hack-San,” whereas Ladybug "had to” for telling someone else her identity (the details of why - i.e: that she was having a mental breakdown and needed a release from it - being completely left out) and not telling him that she was leaving (when she literally hadn’t had time to tell him anything; do note as well that Adrien didn’t have to do the same in either “Backwarder” or “Startrain”).

He received no consequences and was in fact rewarded for allowing the akuma in “Wishmaker” to hit him, a choice that Viperion has to live with because it caused him to see both Ladybug and Chat’s identities (meaning now Luka - someone who, like the guys in “Party Crasher” - Adrien has done virtually nothing for - can support Adrien since he knows).

And I could go on, I really could, but my point is that Adrien is given all of the sympathy and sad points while Marinette basically never is. Just like how he was born swimming in money, fame, and adoring fans, the show hands out praises and all the things he’s ever wanted because he’s sad.

He doesn’t have to try. He can whine and complain and vent to Plagg about how “replaceable” he is because the show will mollycoddle him to the moon and back. They’ll put his crush on Ladybug’s shoulders to make her feel guilty while Marinette is over here having to bust her butt just for a chance at Adrien recognizing any semblance of her feelings, and he goes on being blissfully ignorant of them so he doesn’t have to suffer like Ladybug does.

In addition, Marinette has to either be “““making mistakes”““ or embarrassing herself in order to get screen time because the burden of lessons fails upon her, whereas Adrien can be name-dropped without even doing anything.

It’s not just the love square that’s unbalanced, it’s everything between these two. Ladybug is scolded and punished for the slightest act of selfishness while Adrien is encouraged and rewarded for being selfish and demanding things. Marinette has to work to be noticed (and sometimes won’t even get that much) while all Adrien has to do is put on his best sad face and the show will bend over backwards to either give him exactly what he wants or make him the sympathetic one through the narrative.

Even if Adrien had known about Marinette’s crush at the time that Ladybug knew about Chat’s, it wouldn’t matter, because the tipped scales in how they’re treated would still make it so Marinette is the one at fault for “dumping her feelings onto Adrien” while Ladybug is still forced to interact with Chat even if his advances make her uncomfortable.

#((It's a good day to choose violence.))#category: salt #salt: adrien agreste #salt: chat noir #salt: love square #((I probably should've done this in video format.))

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nationalharryleague · 4 years ago

Text

Diplomacy

Pairing: Harry Styles x Reader

Genre: Enemies to Lovers Royal AU

Word count: 12K (I may have gotten carried away)

Warnings: Parental Death, an American writing about monarchies she doesn’t understand

A/N: Hi everyone! I have been working on this one for a while and it’s by far the longest thing I’ve ever written and I am so proud of it (please be nice)!! I also made a Pinterest board with all the outfits from this if you want to check it out here!! SO SO SO much love to @meetmymouth @bfharry and @hardcandy-harry for helping me out when I needed it and being the most wonderful people in general :) As always, thank you so so much for reading!! More of my writing can be found in my masterlist and feedback/reblogs mean the world!!!

****

Y/N knew from the day she could understand the concept of marriage that she would one day be married to the little prince with wild brown curls her mother always forced her to play with. She still vividly remembered the first time he told her that she was ugly and that he hated her. She was only five years old at the time.

Fortunately, she hated him just as much as he hated her. He was rude, somehow always sticky, and seemed to have no filter or manners, letting every nasty thing he could think of fall past his lips in daggers aimed at his future wife.

As they grew older, their animosity only grew, from petty to school yard quarrels to attacks on their personalities and who they were as people. Despite her pleas to her mother to be sent to a different boarding school than the one he was already attending, she was shipped off.

She studied judiciously, what was expected of every future queen, while she watched Harry meander through his schooling. He never seemed to listen in class, never studied, and seemed to only care about football and girls. She watched with jealousy and contempt as he flirted with every girl at their school, every girl except the one he knew he was to marry; while every boy in the school knew Y/N was off limits, direct orders from the crown.

It made her uncomfortable how much she disliked him. She was not a hateful person, having been trained well to treat everyone with dignity and respect, she was a princess after all. But something about Harry just got under her skin. She barely was able to control the instinctive eye roll whenever his name was mentioned and she often pretended to gag when discussing him with her friends, especially when one of them would inevitably call him ‘dreamy.’

The happiest day of her life was the day she watched him graduate, knowing she had been awarded years of peace without having to listen to his taunts or watch him flirt with everything that breathed. During those years, she flourished. She grew from a timid girl in line for power to a confident young woman preparing for the crown. She knew her country through and through, her constitution front to back, and had even begun studying Harry’s country as well. Whether she liked it or not, she knew she would have to pick up his slack in governing his kingdom eventually, she might as well be good at it.

Four more years of education at Cambridge, brought four more years of growth and being free from Harry, but the deal she had made with her mother was quickly coming to a close. As soon as she finished her education, their engagement would be made official and wedding planning would commence. While she was tempted to beg for some sort of delay or escape, she understood this was her duty. She owed this to her people, and soon to Harry’s as well; her mother was counting on her.

For the first time in too many years, she stood inside her former and future home. She remembered running through the halls of the massive palace under the ornate ceilings that now hung above her again; reality was sinking in. Through the massive wooden doors that sat in front of her, she knew her fate awaited; a fate named Harry. With a deep breath she steeled herself and smoothed the blush pink lace skirt of her dress, preparing to see the face that had haunted her for so long.

The first thing she noticed was the playful smirk that she associated so closely with his taunts from when they were children. It was the smirk that made her stomach drop; she could only imagine the nasty things that could come past those lips now. He had years to practice.

He stood confidently next to her mother, who had a bright and triumphant grin on her face. He was dressed in an impeccably tailored forest green suit, decorated with his coat of arms pin on the lapel. She wished for the vibrance of his green eyes to lessen but the tone of his suit only made them more intense than she had remembered.

“Harry,” she breathed, as diplomatically and with as much confidence as she could muster. “It’s good to see you,” she lied, reaching her hand out for him to kiss in the antiquated custom that always made her deeply uncomfortable. He delicately grasped her hand and slowly brought it to his blushed lips, the kiss lingering longer than what could have been considered friendly. His snake-like eyes locked with hers, still containing the mischievous glint she had nightmares about. She couldn’t help but notice the hysterically hopeful smile on her mother’s face as she watched them interact.

“It’s always a pleasure, your highness,” he hummed. He must have remembered how uncomfortable that title made her. She was honestly impressed at how he managed to lie and antagonize her in the first sentence he had said to her in over six years.

“Please call me Y/N,” she instructed as politely as possible.

“As you wish,” he said with a conniving smirk on his face. She had been with him no more than two minutes and she already wanted to run for her life. But this wasn’t about her, her country would need a leader soon, and unfortunately, that had to be her.

Her mother rushed over excitedly between the two, breaking the contemptuous silence that had built between them. “Oh children, it’s so nice to see you two back together again. I remember when you used to play when you were little. Always teasing, like you had the biggest crushes on each other.” ‘Teasing’ is a nice way to refer to torture, Y/N thought to herself, never daring to verbalize a thought like that.

“We did always have fun didn’t we, Y/N?” Harry asked her, a thin glaze of politeness coating his malice.

“Oh yes, we did. I still have a scar on my thigh from when you pushed me off the monkey bars.” Her tone was tight lipped and curt, her politeness beginning to give way to the verbal lashing she was dreaming of giving him.

“You’ll have to show me sometime.”

Y/N’s jaw nearly hit the ground. She knew he was a dirty good for nothing flirt, but in front of her mother? If her mother hadn't gently grasped both of their hands, she would have stomped out of the room. Her mother’s gentle touch brought her mind back to what this was all about once again.

“Harry is going to be staying with us from now on,” her mother interjected, clearly sensing the animosity between them. “Oh, and I nearly forgot! Harry, I believe you have something for Y/N, correct?”

“Of course.” He flashed his charming smiles at her poor mother, “How could I have forgotten about that?”

She watched him intently as he reached for the pocket inside his suit jacket, pulling out a small indigo colored velvet box. He opened the box with delicate hands to reveal one of the most gorgeous engagement rings Y/N had ever seen. A deep green emerald sat inside a ring of crystal clear diamond florets, all placed meticulously with care into a gold setting, the color of the velvet intensifying the emerald stone. “It was my grandmother’s,” he spoke softly, the first time she had ever heard him speak with any emotion or genuine feeling. “Before she died, she said she wanted you to have it. She was the mastermind of this arrangement afterall,” he said with a slight chuckle. “For formality’s sake,” he began with a sigh, “will you marry me?”

No, passed through Y/N’s head, but “Yes” fell from her lips. While her heart broke for herself and any chance she had of finding true love, the smile and happy tears in her mother’s eyes reminded her why she was doing all of this. She needs me to do this, Y/N thought to herself, my country is going to need a leader.

Their engagement was announced later that day by royal decree and their wedding was scheduled for the next month. There was no going back now.

The palace was in a flurry of planning and plotting for the big day. Y/N was rushed from meeting to meeting, instructed to make decisions about everything and anything she wanted for the wedding. She stared at floral arrangements until her eyes hurt and flipped through magazines looking at bridesmaid and flower girl dresses until her fingers felt like they were about to fall off. Unsurprisingly to Y/N, Harry was there for almost none of it. Although, she wasn’t exactly complaining about his absence.

He only surfaced when food or his suit was involved. In one vile incident, he arrived at the cake tasting with a wad of gum in his mouth, which was not only strictly prohibited for royals because it could be perceived as being too casual, but Y/N almost called off the entire wedding when she watched him stick chewed bubble gum to the bottom of a 200 year old handcrafted dining table.

“Were you raised by wolves?” she asked through gritted teeth while scolding him and desperately trying to remove the mess.

“Nannies, actually.” She knew by the smirk on his face that he wasn’t done with whatever antagonistic taunts that were planned to fall from his lips. “I’m pretty wild in the bedroom too, wifey.”

His crude comments were meant to hurt her and make her uncomfortable. He knew from their time in school together that she was constantly watched and kept far away from the gaze of any peaking boys, shining a spotlight on the massive double standard between the pair of future rulers. She wore a cloak of inexperience and innocence given to her against her will that embarrassed her to no end, and he knew that the easiest way to pinken her cheeks was to mention sex in any way. He aimed to fluster the poor girl and he got away with it anytime he flashed his dimples in a devilish smirk.

Y/N’s cheeks flushed red in embarrassment and furry before she got up from the table and stormed out of the room, muttering “pick whatever fucking cake you want,” before flying down the hallway to her bedroom and slamming the door behind her.

She felt frustrated tears pricking at her eyes as she slid down the back of the heavy wooden door to the floor below her. She let the fabric of her once perfectly steamed dress crumple beneath her and before she let the floodgates of tears open, she looked down at the dainty silver watch that sat on her wrist. You have five minutes until your appointment with the dressmaker, she thought to herself. Three minutes to cry, two minutes to change into a new dress and fix your makeup.

For three minutes, she let all her anger, frustration, and heartbreak fall out of her in loud sobs that anyone on the other side of the door was sure to hear. For three minutes, she let herself feel every angry emotion she had ever felt towards Harry. For three minutes, she didn’t care about her country or her mother needing this wedding. For three minutes, she didn’t care about anything other than her hurt. But only for three minutes.

Then she wiped the tears away, picked herself up off the floor, dressed herself in her favorite navy blue dress, fixed her mascara, and pressed a cool cloth on her cheeks to quell their angry heat. And then she went to see the dressmaker.

The only joy Y/N got out of this whole ordeal was getting to see her dressmaker, Agnes. Agnes was a kind and quiet old woman who was one of the most talented people she had ever met. The pair would sit together for hours discussing styles, the only time her schedule allowed her to relax, and the woman was in the middle of crafting the gown of Y/N’s dreams. It was a lace long sleeved gown with a cathedral length train. The top portion of the lace was sheer, making a strapless neckline visible, before the delicately crafted lace moved crawled up Y/N’s neck into a high collar neckline. It was reserved, but elegant and unique; “just like you,” Agnes once said.

The first time Y/N was able to try the dress on was bittersweet. The dress was stunning and it made her feel like the princess she was, but she did shed a tear thinking about how this moment was tainted with Harry. She wouldn’t be wearing this dress while walking down the aisle to marry the love of her life, she was marrying someone she would consider an enemy.

She bowed down reverently when her mother placed a veil and tiara on her head. The tiara was encrusted with diamonds and speckled with emeralds that happened to match her engagement ring. The tiara was an heirloom and every woman in her family had worn it while getting married for the last two hundred years.

Her mother wept softly before her, a proud smile on her lips. “I’m so happy I get to see you in the wedding tiara before I go, sweetheart,” she said leaning in to press a gentle kiss to Y/N’s cheek. “I know you and Harry aren’t always a perfect pair and neither were your father and I, but we made you.” The queen’s eyes flashed over her face trying to take her in, “And you turned out to be my proudest achievement and the savior of a nation.”

“Thank you, Mama.” She hadn’t called her mother by that name since she was a young girl but it just felt right at that moment. She felt like a child, needing someone to take care of her while she waited for a country to fall on her shoulders.

“I will always guide you through whatever I can,” she said tenderly. “Even when I’m not here, I will always be with you.” Y/N watched as her mother’s eyes welled with more tears, excusing herself quickly before they grew more intense.

Not more than five minutes later, she heard the obnoxious whistling that she had begun to hear in her nightmares from down the hall. What she didn’t expect was for Harry to burst through the door, not only interrupting her fitting, but seeing the dress before the wedding day.

Like all members of traditional royal families, Y/N was extremely superstitious. Her heart immediately broke as she watched his eyes look her up and down, like there was a little piece of her that thought if they did everything right and didn’t break any traditional rules, maybe they would work out. What hurt her even more was that he didn’t even try to leave. He just sat down on a chair, smacking his gum, and stared at her like he was doing nothing wrong. Her eyes were still filled with tears from the emotional moment with her mother and they continued to flow, no longer out of love, but out of anger and frustration.

“Agnes,” Y/N finally spoke, voice cracking as she tried to hold back her tears, “will you excuse us for a moment?”

“Yes, your highness,” Agnes took delicate steps backwards like she was expecting a bomb to go off, before turning around and scurrying out of the room. Her instincts were correct, because at that moment, Y/N exploded.

“What did I ever do to you Harry?” she questioned angrily. “Why are you so determined to absolutely ruin my life? It’s bad enough that I am having an arranged marriage, not even one that I have the tiniest bit of say in.” She watched Harry’s eyes grow wide, like he had never expected her to stand up to him. “I have spent my entire life being watched and guarded, and avoided by every man I’ve ever gotten close to because I was already claimed by someone who wanted nothing to do with me.” She couldn’t remember the last time she had raised her voice like this at someone; she wasn’t sure if she ever had before. “You can’t even pretend that you like me or that we won't be miserable for our entire lives.”

“Y/N, I don’t want this either,” he spoke after a moment of silence, the quiet only broken by Y/N’s heaving breath. “Why can’t you just calm down?”

“Why can’t I calm down?” she repeated. “Maybe because my country is looking to me to become it’s queen. I can’t give myself to my people when I am worrying about you and your incompetence. You may not become king in your country for another 30 years; you have time to learn and grow into a ruler because you’re in my monarchy and you get to learn here first. You’re playing king with my people. Millions of people rely on us the second I am crowned and you act like your irresponsibility doesn’t have far reaching consequences.”

“I’ll be perfectly fine,” he spat back at her, rolling his eyes with his arms crossed in front of himself as he sat back in the chair. “I can’t believe I have to marry you and into this family.”

Y/N felt like she had been punched in the gut. She was stuck with this man for the rest of her life and here he was, disrespecting her, her people, and her family. “Get out,” she said under her breath. When he didn’t move from his seat, she began to yell once again, “Get out! I mean it!” She dropped her voice once again, and spoke more seriously than she ever had before. “I have never hated anymore more than I hate you, Harry. I am doing all of this because I love my country and my people, but I want you to know, I will never be happy because of you.”

For a moment, through her tears, it looked like he had been hurt because of her words, but he was gone from the room before she could confirm it.

She fell to her knees on the dress platform, surrounded by the piles of pure white fabric. She was a perfectly dressed ball of furry and sobs, angry at the world and her predicament. Leaning over and putting her head in her hands, she felt the tiara as it began to slip off her head, falling into her lap.

Y/N picked up the tiara, using gentle reverent hands, examining it closely. The tiara represented the monarchy and every female ruler in her family that had come before her. It shined and dazzled in the bright lights of the room, its crystal clear and emerald stones reflecting multi colored light onto the crisp white of the dress below her. “I’m doing this for you,” she whispered quietly to the tiara like it could answer, tears still silently rolling down her face.

***

They didn’t speak again for almost a week. They communicated solely through their royal secretaries, sending the poor men back and forth with angry messages, almost gossiping about what was happening with each member of the pair when they returned to the sender. Y/N hated Harry, Harry hated Y/N; the same sentiment sent back and forth over and over. The two were driving fast towards a brick wall, and the brick wall was their wedding.

When she woke up one morning about a week before their nuptials, there was a small envelope sitting on the ground like it had been slid underneath her bedroom door. We have to talk, was all it read. It was not lost on her that the stationary had a small olive branch illustrated onto the page.

Later that afternoon, they met in the garden. It felt like a neutral place to talk, the palace obviously being her territory. She had worn a casual flowing white dress, like she was raising a white flag; and she carefully walked with a mug of black coffee, a peace offering of sorts, careful not to get any of the dark liquid on the fabric of her dress.

She found him along a bed of purple Hyacinths, their sweet perfume enveloping them both, sitting on the soft ground dressed in the most casual clothes she had ever seen him in. He was wearing a simple lilac button up and a pair of jeans. He seemed more approachable this way, without the tailoring and the coat of arms that always sat on his lapel. The golden highlights in his curls came out in the sun and his tanned skin seemed to glow. He held a rose colored leather bound notebook in his hands.

“Hi,” she said softly, a sharp contrast to her screaming the last time they spoke. “I brought you a coffee. The nice ladies in the kitchen say you take it black.” The corners of his mouth turned up slightly and he gave her a friendly but unenthusiastic smile.

“Thank you,” he breathed, as she handed him the hot mug.

“Can I sit?”

“I’m not in charge of you,” he mumbled into the cup taking a sip. It wasn’t until she noticed how his eyebrow shot up and how his eyes had a playful gleam in them, that her offence washed away. “Of course, you can sit down.”

“What’s the book for?” she asked gently once she settled on the ground a safe distance away from him. She decided a few grass stains were worth being on speaking terms with the man she was supposed to marry.

“Um, it’s actually for you.” He reached over and placed the book in her hands. She ran her hands over her initials that had been embossed onto the leather cover. “I’ve been meaning to give it to you for a while,” he said quietly, “I remember you used to write a lot when we were in school together. I thought you would like it.” She felt a confusing mixture of thankfulness for the book, guilt for her outburst, and all the frustration that she still held towards him.

“Thank you, Harry. That was really thoughtful of you.”

A silence hung among them, neither of them sure of the next steps this conversation had to take.

“Can we talk?” Harry asked, finally breaking the tension between the pair.

“Yes, please,” she answered just as quickly as he had asked.

“I wanted to apologize for interrupting your fitting like that. I didn’t know all the traditions meant so much to you and I never meant to make you so upset.” She had never heard Harry apologize before, to anyone else, and definitely not to her.

Before that moment, she had always thought of him as an impenetrable force, wondering if there even was a soul or a conscience in his body. But here he was, vulnerability and all, offering an olive branch and an apology.

“Thank you,” she said cautiously, wading into the almost friendly waters she had never been in with him. “I’m sorry for screaming at you like that. I said some very hurtful things to you.”

“So have I.”

“I want you to know that I don’t hate you and I shouldn’t have said I did. But, I don’t necessarily like you either, Harry,” she said, deciding now was the time they needed to open the line of communication. One of them would eventually combust if they continued on with their hatred like this. “You have tortured me since we were little kids and it’s going to take me some time for me to get over that.” She watched as he nodded his head along with her words, seeming to listen intently.

“I feel like that is also something I should apologize for. No offence, but I didn’t want to get married to you either- still don’t, but I was much more of a dick about it then,” he let out a light laugh, flashing one of his famous dimples before releasing a sigh. “I took out not having control of my life out on you and I’m sorry.” She never thought she would receive validation for all the hurt he put her through for so long.

“Listen, we are getting married as part of a diplomatic partnership,” she began, “I feel like we should at least act diplomatic towards each other.”

“Does that mean that we have to be friends?”

“Definitely not. Just not enemies.”

“I think I can do that, wifey.”

***

The next week passed in a surprisingly civil blur for them both. Y/N was still in the throws of getting ready for a wedding and Harry was off doing whatever Harry usually did. She didn’t expect him to be doing much but she was just glad he was out of her hair. But when they did run into each other, usually at some sort of meeting surrounding the menu, they had a new found respect for the other.

The pair hadn’t been fighting which was nice for a change, even though it did raise some eyebrows in both of their staff. At her final dress fitting two days before the wedding Agnes had asked her if she was ready to be a married woman. “Absolutely not,” Y/N had laughed, “but it’s my responsibility to my people and my country. I have lived the most privileged life imaginable up until this point, it’s time for me to begin my duties.”

“You’re a good girl, your highness. You’re going to make a great queen when the time comes. Even with a husband you may have to wrangle sometimes.” She ended her compliments with a giggle as she zipped Y/N into the dress, and she felt her heart warm. Agnes placed the final touches of the veil and tiara on top of her head, giving her a nod of permission to finally look at herself in the mirror.

The dress fit her like a glove. The delicate lace ran the expanse of the dress, starting at the very back of her immensely long train and crawling its way all the way to Y/N’s throat, and the fitted top half gave way to a full ball gown skirt. Y/N’s eyes followed the intricate lace patterns down her arm, eyes eventually landing on her hand and the ring that sat upon it. For the first time since it had begun to sit on her ring finger, she didn’t want to throw it across the room in frustration. It really was gorgeous and the tiny inkling of respect she had for Harry now made it much less painful to look at.

Staring at the mirror, she noticed the blurring of her vision and the wetness on her cheeks.

“I really am getting married, aren’t I?” she asked with a disbelieving laugh.

“Yes you are, your highness.” Agnes looked up at her through her thick lensed glasses with a proud smile on her face. “Now, let’s get you out of this contraption so you can go rest up for the big day.” Anges’ skilled hands freed Y/N from the beautiful layers of fabric and tulle and sent her on her way back to her bedroom.

Y/N was finally almost asleep in the early hours of the morning when she heard a gentle and almost timid knock on her door. She could have ignored it, rolled back over and let her dreams take her, but for some reason it felt important for her to get out of bed and answer the door. Her bare feet hit the cold wood floors and she tip-toed her way to the door.

When she grabbed the knob to open it, she heard a familiar voice say “don’t open the door! I don’t think I’m supposed to see you,” in a hurried and hushed tone.

“Harry?”

“Yeah, it’s me.” His voice was gravelly with exhaustion and had an apprehensive, almost nervous quality she had never heard from him before.

“Why are you here?”

“I just wanted to talk to you.” He said it so softly she wouldn’t have been able to hear him if her ear wasn’t pressed up against the doorway. The sentiment brought a smile to her lips and she wasn’t completely sure why. She was quiet for a moment, deciding if she wanted to turn him away or not when she heard him sarcastically ask, “What? I’m not allowed to talk to my wife?”

“I’m not your wife yet,” she reminded him with a tired chuckle. “But we can talk,” she assured him. “I’m going to sit down, okay? My legs are tired from my heels all day.” She kneeled down and leaned herself up against the hard wooden door.

She had been in this same position only a few weeks before, angry at the world and wanting to kill the man on the other side of it; but here she was, speaking to him willingly, even joking with him. She listened close as his own body rested against the floor and leaned on the opposite side, mirroring her own position.

“Those heels really hurt, don’t they?” he asked, voice still hushed. If she wasn’t so tired, she might have even said she heard a smile in his voice.

“Yeah, they are like little death traps for your feet and legs.” He let out a small laugh on the other side and her lips pulled into a smile that she hadn’t given them permission for.

“How many pairs do you have? You always match your dress to your shoes so you must have a ton.”

She was gradually learning that he was much more observant than she had originally thought. He apparently wasn’t the dumb boy that she remembered from school anymore.

“Too many,” she said with a soft laugh and a shake of her head. “I’m wearing my favorites tomorrow.”

“And which ones are those?”

“They’re white, obviously; they have to match,” she smiled. “They have a green gem at the toes. They match the tiara I’ll be wearing.” She stopped for a moment before continuing on. “And your grandmother’s ring.” She played with the gold band that sat on her ring finger, still somehow dazzling in the very limited light of her dark room. “Thank you, by the way. It’s gorgeous.”

“You’re welcome. She wanted you to have it.”

“Did she really?”

“Oh, yeah,” he said confidently on the other side of the door. She imagined him nodding along with his words to emphasize his point, as he often did while speaking. “She kept tabs on you while we were growing up. She was always talking about how smart you seemed and that you would be a good queen one day. If I didn’t know better, I would say she liked you more than me growing up.” Y/N felt her cheeks heat up with the information. She was flattered by his grandmother’s opinion of her, but her heart also ached for Harry.

“I’m sure that's not true.”

“I think it was. I was always screwing up in one way or another; always creating messes that her and my parents had to clean up.” He paused for a moment and she heard him let out a long sigh. “Always running around with other girls and making the one I was supposed to marry feel like shit.”

She wished she could see his face. She wished that she could get a read on his emotions. But there was, literally and figuratively, a wall between them.

“Y/N,” she heard his voice squeak out through a voice crack, “I really am sorry for everything I’ve done to you.”

“I know. I forgive you, Harry.”

Saying those four words, lifted a weight she didn’t know she had been carrying off her shoulders. This moment felt like an absolution, a time to wipe their long and complicated slate clean. There was no better time for them to start anew than the night before they began the next chapter of their lives. But this chapter would be together, as a pair and a team.

“Thank you.”

“I’m sorry too, Harry. I know this all had to happen so fast so I could take the throne, but I know you thought you had more time. I thought I did too.”

“What do you mean? Why did it have to happen so fast?” he asked.

First, Y/N was confused. There was a very obvious answer. Then her heart began to break for him. He wasn’t ready at all for what was coming. No one must have told him.

“Harry,” she said softly, “Do you know about my mother?”

“What do you mean?” From the tone in his voice, she knew he genuinely didn’t know.

“My mom-” she began gently, swallowing the lump in her throat that always appeared when she began to talk about this, “My mom is dying, Harry.” She heard a soft gasp through the door before she went on. “She’s been sick for a while, but things are getting really bad. Her doctors think she only has a couple weeks left.”

She listened to his breathing stop, like his mouth was hung open searching for something to say. He was quiet for a few moments before he landed on what seemed like the only thing he had said over and over these last few weeks, “Y/N, I’m so sorry. I’m here for you if you need to talk about all of this.”

His offer was not lost on her. The idea of Harry being someone she could confide in was a new one, but one that she would consider.

“It’s okay.” She choked out, wiping a few stray tears that had found their way out, off her cheeks. “I have had enough time to come to terms with it. But in our archaic constitution,” she said with a biting distaste in her voice, “a woman cannot become the sovereign of the country if she isn't married. That’s why this all had to happen so fast.”

“I see.”

The pair were quiet, both curled up on opposite sides of the wall; simultaneously experiencing a unique type of loneliness that only the other could understand. In less than 12 hours, they would be married, linked by an oath that neither of them had signed up for, in circumstances with responsibilities that neither of them were ready to handle.

“Harry,” she peeped, breaking a silence that hung heavy over them both, “you should go to sleep. We have a big day tomorrow.”

She listened through the door to the rustling of him getting up off the floor beside her. “You should get some sleep too.”

“I’ll try my best.”

“So will I. I’ll see you at the altar, wifey.”

She let out a strangled laugh at the nickname he had adopted for her, her throat still tight from crying. She listened to his foot falls until they disappeared down the hallway before she mustered the strength to drag herself back to bed. Her staff was on strict orders from the wedding planner to have her woken up at 8 to begin getting ready and she wanted to get some rest before the sun came up.

And like clockwork, her curtains were thrown wide open at 8 am, sunlight blinding her as she woke up. Her eyes took a moment to adjust to her rude awakening, but soon she could make out the bustling room around her. Hair stylists, makeup artists, bridesmaids, flower girls, her mother, and some lady with an ear piece and a clip board fluttered about her bedroom with an excited chatter. Taking in the chaotic scene, it really hit her. Holy shit, I’m getting married today, she thought.

Her stomach twisted and turned in knots as the gaggle of women fawned over her, instructing her to stay still and “stop shaking” as they applied layers of makeup and fussed with her hair. Her hair was pulled into a delicately crafted low bun and her eyes were painted with neutral tones and a little bit of shimmer. Diamond and emerald earrings were threaded through her ear lobes and her fingernails were inspected to see if they needed any touch ups. Her shaky body was zipped into her dress and her feet slipped into her heels while her cathedral length veil was pinned meticulously into her hair. She was only missing one last thing.

“Your tiara, your highness,” her mother joked through the happy and proud tears welling up in her eyes. The tiara was the one last thing she needed before she was sent on her way to the cathedral. She bent down slightly, her mother delicately crowing her; when she rose, she couldn't help but grab onto her mother and hold her tight. It was hard for her not to think about the next time she would be crowned, a time when her mother wouldn’t be there to offer the guidance or support Y/N needed.

“I love you, Mama,” was all she said. It was the only reason all of this was happening. She loved her mother too much to let her down.

“I love you more, my princess,” her mother said gently, before turning away and scurrying off to do something else. Y/N tried to ignore the wince on her face when she moved too fast and the slight wheeze she made when she was speaking.

Surveying the scene around her, Y/N felt like she was about to die. Her heart was pounding hard in her ears, her palms were slick with sweat, her breathing was labored, and her chest felt tight. She had never been so overwhelmed with anxiety before. She had known today was coming her entire life, but the fact that it really was here was too much for her brain to wrap itself around.

It was like she had blacked out from fear, an hour of her life completely unaccounted for. She didn’t remember the last minute checks and touches to her hair and makeup. She didn’t remember her mother delicately resting her veil over her face. She didn’t remember getting in the car bringing her to the cathedral. She didn’t remember someone shoving a bouquet of flowers in her hands. She didn’t remember the music starting up or walking down the aisle of the giant imposing and ornate cathedral.

She was only brought back to reality when she reached the imposing altar and Harry delicately took her hand into his. His green eyes were painted with concern when he saw the worried crease between her eyebrows and the way she was chewing on her bottom lip under her sheer veil, swiping his thumb up and down her skin in an attempt to soothe her. It was the first time he had ever touched her voluntarily; it was a gentle and tender touch, full of care. She gripped back tight onto his hand, holding on for dear life as she thought over everything that was about to happen.

They were instructed to stand forward, watching the officiant as he droned on about love and duty to one’s country and spouse, but their hands stayed clasped tight onto each other, like they were being thrown into a stormy and unpredictable sea and the other’s hand was their only life line. And in a way, they were.

When they were told to turn towards each other to begin their vows, their eyes locked and she began to really look at him for the first time. She watched his plush lips closely as he recited the words fed to him from the officiant, although she didn’t hear a single word of them. Her eyes traced his strong cheekbones and landed on his adorable button nose before returning back to his eyes. She noticed the slight blue bags that sat under them, signaling he had just as much trouble sleeping as she did.

His eyes brought her a calm that she hadn’t felt in years, silently telling her that she wasn’t alone in all of this, his warm hands still holding on to hers punctuating that sentiment. There wasn’t anyone else in the massive cathedral but the pair of them anymore, just two scared kids trying to make it through the demands weighing on their shoulders together.

Shaky hands exchanged rings, her heart stopping for a moment when the ring caught and didn’t slide onto his finger gracefully. But her heart regained it’s rhythm when she heard a light chuckle coming from the man across from her, a gentle smile that was just big enough to flash a dimple at her, signaling that it would be okay.

She recited her vows without much thought, letting ‘I do,’ slip past her lips while still entranced by Harry’s intense yet comforting gaze. She watched his strong hands disconnect from hers as he lifted the lace trimming on the veil covering her face, dark lashes flickering down to her glossed lips. She let her eyes fall closed as he leaned in towards her and rested a hand on her cheek, prompted by the officiant and clapping coming from the pews, bracing herself for a feeling of disgust she hoped wouldn’t come.

He carefully connected their lips softly with a sweetness that felt gentle, tender, and caring. But there was more to the kiss than a softness, there was a respect there as well. His hand felt secure and protective on her cheek, and he pulled away with a smile after a short time, sure not to overwhelm her. The feeling of disgust in her belly that she was waiting for never came; if she didn’t know better she would say she felt an excited flutter.

They stood on the altar for a moment and just stared at each other, excited and relief filled smiles creeping into their lips, his dimples prominent. “Shall we, wifey?” Harry beamed with a sigh, extending a hand to lead her back down the aisle, now as a married woman.

“We shall, husband,” she giggled back, cheeks still a fiery red from their contact. Calling him her husband felt foreign, but not unwelcome.

Harry held her hand tight, keeping her in the moment by the warm contact. He held her hand down the aisle and all the way back to the palace, all throughout the signing of their marriage license, and all throughout the many, many photos taken of the two and their wedding party. She found comfort in his warm touch, continuing to ground her through the chaos that unfolded around them. Even when they had briefly disconnected from each other, he was always close by, only a call of his name away.

She was shocked by how careful he was around her giant dress, taking calculated steps to avoid dirtying the crisp white fabric. He was playing the role of a dutiful husband, and was seeming to enjoy it.

They spent the next hours just following orders from wedding planners, shuffled around from place to place, constantly surrounded by people. All she wanted was a moment to speak to him alone, but it seemed far out of reach.

That moment finally came in the middle of a dance floor, with hundreds of eyes staring at them as they danced. They swayed together slowly, a gentle rock to the delicate sound of strings. “Thank you for staying by me all day, Harry,” she said quietly, hoping that no one could hear them over the music.

“No need to thank me, wifey,” he said with a chuckle, his lips grazing against her ear as he spoke. She chuckled like always at the name and shook her head.

“I mean it. I don’t think I would have been able to get through all of this,” she said looking out at the crowd watching them and the giant ornately decorated ballroom they were in the center of, “if you hadn’t been by my side.”

“I quite like it, actually. I could get used to standing with you.” He said nonchalantly, like it was no big deal, while her heart just about stopped.

She wasn’t able to answer before the music slowed to a stop and they were pulled apart by their mothers and dragged off to speak to “very important” people. He seemed just as disappointed as she was when they were separated.

When they finally found each other again, Y/N had changed. She had abandoned her massive conservative skirt of tulle and lace for a creamy silk gown that she could actually move in. It was a simple a-line v-neck dress with cap sleeves, but the back held a deep V that ended at the small of her back coupled with a loosely tied bow.

The cool breeze on her back made her feel sexy. She knew she was pushing the boundaries on what was appropriate for a princess and she loved it.

“My darling, you look gorgeous,” he said, taking her hand and spinning her so he could fully take in the new dress, mindful of her tiara and trying his best not to knock it off. Her cheeks burned at his flattery, something he could surely feel when he pulled her close and pressed a delicate kiss on her cheek.

“You’re just saying that,” she said bashfully staring down at the floor, deflecting the compliment easily.

“Wifey,” he singsonged the teasing nickname that had evolved into a term of endearment. He lifted her chin to look up at him and he looked down at her with the most honest expression she had ever seen him wear. “You look beautiful. You have all day.”

“Thank you, Harry.” She spoke quietly, barely audible, unsure what to make of her husband’s compliments. He leaned in to her, layed a tender kiss on her forehead, and dragged her across the room to the dance floor.

They stayed on the dancefloor most of the night, almost always touching in some sort of way, while dancing and celebrating with their friends and family.

And Y/N was happy; a genuine type of happiness that she hadn’t felt in a very long time. Obviously, this wasn’t ideal. She was now married to a man she knew virtually nothing about, who had been a sworn enemy of hers only a few days ago, and had only begun enjoying his company last night. But happiness isn’t linear, she thought to herself.

Their night had passed in a joyous and opulent blur that went late into the night; full of food, dancing, and a swimming pool's worth of champagne.

Eventually both of them were led, by dutiful staff as they were both quite drunk and couldn’t exactly be trusted to make it on their own, to their new bedroom, or bedrooms depending on who you asked. They were led into the massive room consisting of two separate suites connected by a dressing room of sorts in a cloud of giggles, finding themselves in a fit of laughter after passing a portrait in the hall of some distant ancestor who had an amusing mustache.

“Thank you for leading us back,” she said, trying to gain a sober composure to the men who had flanked them on their way back, “you can go now.” The men shared a look between themselves that seemed to say ‘someone should be watching them,’ but followed the princess’ orders anyway.

“I just can’t understand how he got it to curl like that,” Harry cackled, beginning to wheeze from his hysterics and slightly stumbling as he was doubled over.

“Maybe it was natural like your curls,” she suggested, through her giggling hiccups that she let return when their staff left the room. “I quite like your curls, ya know? I like it when you let them grow a bit.”

They were still holding hands, despite being alone in their new found privacy, no longer needing the support from the other to shield them from the pressure of looking eyes.

“Then I’ll have to grow them out a bit,” he said, a smile still beaming at her with droopy drunk eyes. He tugged on her hand softly, bringing her body into his and setting his hand on the exposed skin of the small of her back. His hands were warm and soft and in the moment, she never wanted his hand to move from that spot again. “I can’t refuse the princess’ orders.” His voice had dropped low, not to a whisper but to a soft and lazy volume that made her feel safe.

Their faces were close and she could smell his strong vanilla and sandalwood cologne coming off him that she wanted to envelop herself in. He looked back down at her with a face that was loving, but she attributed it to the alcohol in his system. For a moment, she was overwhelmed with adoration for this man who she had spent so much of her life violently hating. Admiring and adoring him was much easier on her soul than harboring the hatred that had eaten at her for so long.

“I have another order,” she spoke quietly, letting the words tumble from her lips without her usually logical brain’s permission, “I want you to kiss me. For real this time.”

His lips were on hers as soon as the words left her own. It was sloppy and sweet, but with a passion behind it that Y/N felt in her bones. Their lips moved in a drunken rhythm, with Harry’s aimless wandering hands sliding up and down the silk of her dress before resting on her waist and pulling her impossibly closer to him. Her hands found and twirled the few of Harry’s curls that remained after they had cut his hair shorter than usual for the ceremony at the base of his neck and sunk her fingers into it, pulling him further into the kiss by his hair.

It was not long before their tongues found each other and the kiss deepened into a desperate dance of gasping for breath and soft moans into each other’s mouths. Harry’s mouth left hers and began to press sloppy open mouthed kisses down her neck while fiddling with the bow at the back of her gown that would release it from her frame.

Feeling him fuss with the bow made her pounding heart shift from one of excitement, to one of panic. This was too soon, she didn’t know him well enough. She didn’t know his favorite color or any of his hobbies. She didn’t know how he liked his tea, or if he drank it at all. She didn’t even know his middle name.

Her fuzzy mind couldn’t deny how much she didn’t know about him or the anxiety that made her want to pull away from the man and run.

“Harry,” she breathed, voicing the apprehension and anxiety that had begun to rise in her chest, “please stop.” She had squeaked out the words, a mix of embarrassment and panic taking over her slightly slurred words.

His hands froze, pulling himself back quickly from her, a mix of worry and guilt on his face. “Did I do something wrong? I just thought…” he let his words drop off, his own fuzzy mind not sure of what to say either.

“No, you didn’t do anything wrong. I’m sorry, I just can’t.” Her cheeks grew hot and her eyes became glassy.

She was embarrassed to admit it, but the kiss on the altar that morning was the first time she had ever had another pair of lips on her own. Her entire life she had been shielded from men with any interest in her, her affection already spoken for and claimed. No man had ever held her hand romantically, or danced with her, or kissed her with the passion Harry just had.

Harry had lived a life with freedom that she had never been granted. She remembered all the times she had watched him interact with various girlfriends at school, and remembered the shame she had felt when he had ended up on the cover of tabloids after he was photographed naked and kissing a random woman on a yacht. Every article had ended with the same line that she still knew by heart.

“The prince is arranged to marry Princess Y/N when she comes of age in an effort to unify their countries.”

They had lived very different lives, with very different freedoms up until this point. It was sexist and archaic and unfair, but she couldn’t deny the impacts it had on her while she was around Harry. Even though she couldn’t deny that she was beginning to feel something real for him and she believed that he felt the same; she didn’t fully trust him like that yet. She couldn’t.

“I’ve never done any of this before, Harry. This morning was my first kiss.” Her cheeks burned in a mixture of embarrassment and shame as she spoke the words. “I like you a lot, but today has been nerve wracking and scary enough. I just can’t add another new thing into the mix, especially that. It’s just all too much. I’m sorry.”

Her sheltered and delicate heart couldn’t even bring herself to say the word ‘sex’.

As he listened to her explanation, his features softened. They were no longer fearful that he made a mistake or crossed a boundary, but they moved into a soft and caring smile.

“Y/N, my darling,” he began in a soft and sweet voice, “come here.” He beckoned her with open arms to rest up against his chest again. She had curled her arms in front of herself, holding them close to her body, as she walked into his arms and let herself be enveloped by them while resting her head on his chest. “You are my wife now, but I think we both understand that we are not exactly in this position by choice. I would never ask you to do something you are uncomfortable with and I am sorry that I crossed a boundary.”

“Thank you,” she peeped before he continued on.

“Also, I heard that part when you said you liked me a lot,” she could hear the smirk in his voice, making her cheeks inexplicably hotter. “And I like you a lot too.”

The pair stood in that hold long enough for them to lose track of time, just resting against each other in silence, listening to the other’s breathing. The silence that enveloped them was comforting, but Harry eventually spoke again, inexplicably soft and gentle in tone.

“Y/N, I really want to try to make us work.”

“So do I, Harry.”

The pair stood together in their stillness and peaceful quiet, until she let out a small yawn.

Harry released her from his grasp and began walking around the room, opening wardrobes and dressers searching for something. He breathed a small triumphant noise when he opened a drawer, spinning around with a light pink and baby blue nightgown in his hands.

“Do you need any help getting out of your dress? Would I be allowed to help?” His face was so thoughtful, carefully navigating the boundaries she had made him aware of but not set in stone yet.

She took the nightgown from his hands and slipped it over her head, the silk dress beneath it. “I just need help untying the bow.” Her voice was still low, a quiet and delicate murmur.

His hands carefully untied the bow, turning around for modesty’s sake, only turning back around when he heard the silk hit the floor.

She had begun carefully removing the bobby pins that still held her bun together, causing them both to giggle when her hair was finally released into a giant poof of curls and hair spray.

She looked so sweet to him. This was the first time he had seen her relaxed like this, no longer in a fancy dress, heels, and her hair and makeup done to perfection. She looked like a real person to him, not a princess who would soon become queen.

He moved gingerly towards the door of her room, but not before pressing one more soft kiss to her lips.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, wifey.”

“Can’t wait, my husband,” she called from under the covers, watching him close the door behind him.

***

The two were sitting on a hot beach, baking in the sun when the call came.

It was day four of their honeymoon and a week after their wedding, spending their time alone together on a small island in the sun neither of them could remember the name to. It was a paradise straight out of a movie, and she swore nothing could ruin it.

They spent their days learning each other well, often joking that they should make up trivia quizzes for each other to see who knew the other best. She had learned that Harry’s eyes lit up like a child when he saw any type of animal, especially the small lizards that would run across the deck hanging off the back of their small beach house. It was also a surprise when she found out he loved to cook, whipping up a meal that could rival some of the chefs at the palace for dinner one night.

But her favorite thing she had learned about him by far, was how he sang in the shower. He had a low and melodic voice that he didn’t know traveled into the house from the outdoor shower. She would sit by the window closest to him, often pretending to write in the pink notebook he had given her in the garden, close her eyes and appreciate the man’s voice. She swore if he wasn’t a prince, he would be a singer.

In the time since their nuptials, the pair had become lovers. Always attached at the hip and sneaking kisses; they were blissfully and unstoppably becoming increasingly obsessed with the other. The word ‘love’ often played at Y/N’s lips, seeming to always be only a drink away from letting it slip out towards him.

Every day, they would walk down a short path from their house to a pristine white sand beach, picnic basket in hand, and sit. Sometimes they would sit in silence, just staring at the clear blue ocean, and other times they would talk about everything and anything that came to mind, or they would read silently next to each other. But they were always holding onto each other; sometimes it was a hand placed gently on the other’s thigh, or fingers intertwined between them.

The shrill ring of Y/N’s phone broke their fantasy while sitting on the beach on the fourth afternoon. Her heart dropped as soon as she heard it, knowing that the palace had agreed not to bother them unless the worst case scenario was happening.

She closed her eyes and braced herself, tears already threatening to breach her eyes, as she answered the phone with shaky hands. “Hello?” she choked out.

“Your highness, you need to come home.” She immediately recognized the panicked voice of her mother’s secretary on the other end. “It’s happening.”

“Okay,” she said, trying to remain as composed as possible. “We’re leaving now.”

Harry’s face held a furrowed brow and concerned eyes as she spoke. He immediately began rubbing his thumb back and forth over the back of her palm like he had done on their wedding day, but today, it did nothing to soothe her pain and anxiety.

She hung up the phone before letting out a heart wrenching cry. “We have to go home,” she sobbed. “She is dying.”

The entire journey home was silent after Y/N had composed herself on the beach.

She sat emotionless, staring straight ahead, flinching away every time Harry moved to touch her. She spoke only when absolutely necessary, but her voice brought no tone with it. She had become a shell of herself, losing the warmth behind her eyes that had begun to appear after the wedding.

She felt empty, like she had lost the ability to think, while simultaneously feeling so overwhelmed, by thoughts of her future as queen and the loss of her mother. She had become blank, inside and outside, the happiness she had begun to build for herself with Harry, melting away and leaving the hollowness of grief and dread.

It took them about twelve hours to reach the palace from the time she hung up the phone, but it wasn’t fast enough. The second she stepped out of the car, she saw the guards outside the palace dressed in their black uniforms that were reserved only for the passing of the sovereign. She closed her eyes silently, as if when she opened them up again their uniforms would turn back to their usual blue and maroon; but they didn’t, their clothing still black as night.

Her heels clicked the pavement, maintaining her immaculate posture and steely blank expression as she entered the palace, the loving man she had been excited to have a life with trailing mournfully behind her. She watched as if she was out of her body when she passed people, all now dressed in black, in the hall. They all acted the same.

First, they would give her the saddest look, silently extending their sympathies to the daughter who just lost her mother, and then bowing their heads in respect to the now reigning queen.

“I need to see my mother,” was all she said, before being led into her bedroom.

She hadn’t remembered when her father had died, too young to understand. All she could wrap her head around was that her Daddy had an accident and wasn’t coming home. But she remembered her mother’s cries, loud and earth shattering sobs that traveled up and down the hallways of the palace for all to hear.

She looked like she was just sleeping; arms peacefully crossed over her chest and eyes shut gently. But she was cold when Y/N reached for her hand. She tenderly brought her mothers hand to her lips, and pressed a final kiss to her hand, before walking blankly out of the room.

Her mother was gone. And the country fell onto her shoulders.

She heard Harry saying something as he followed close behind her. While she heard him, she didn’t process a thing he said. She stalked towards their bedroom which was unfortunately on the other side of the palace, locked in her daze. He trailed close behind her the entire way, trying to say anything that could break through to her, and stood dutifully outside the door of her side of the bedroom for an unknown amount of time after she had shut it in his face.

***

She didn’t speak, or show emotion, or allow anyone at all to touch her for three days. Only nodding or shaking her head in response to the rapid firing of questions she was asked about planning her mother’s funeral. Harry only saw glimpses of his wife, or the shell of Y/N that she had become, usually while she shut the door to her bedroom between them.

He left his door open all day everyday.

When he awoke the morning of the funeral and found her bedroom door open, his heart jumped. He slowly walked inside to find her in a room full of black dresses. Dresses had been laid carefully over every surface for her to choose from; the dress she would wear to her mother’s funeral and her first public appearance as queen.

“Good morning,” was all he said, quiet and careful.

The person that looked back at him was someone he didn’t recognize. The light was gone from her eyes, and she wasn’t the woman he was head over heels in love with anymore. She looked like her, but emanated sadness and anxiety like nothing he had ever seen before. Dark blue bags held under her eyes from not sleeping, her hair was tied behind her head in a messy unkempt ponytail, and she was dressed in a giant and ill fitting nightgown, shoulders bent down in a fashion that made her look small. The only feature of the put together, confident, and commanding woman he was married to that remained was the bright emerald ring that sat on her ring finger.

“I can’t decide what to wear,” she said without expression, but the tears started to fall down her face before she could finish the sentence. Harry moved quickly across the room to her when he saw her knees began to shake, catching her just in time as they gave out and she fell into his arms, settling them both onto the soft carpeted ground. That was when her heaving sobs began. It was a bone rattling cry that consumed her wholly and her exhausted and hurting brain could only put together two thoughts: she missed her mom, and she didn’t want to take on all this responsibility alone.

She sobbed into his shirt, holding onto the soft and worn fabric of his t-shirt for dear life, and he held her close to his body, slowly rubbing her back and letting all of the emotion fall out of her. She cried for a long time, giving herself a pounding headache, and when the tears finally began to slow she connected her tearful ones with Harry’s ever vibrant green eyes and mumbled, “I just thought I had more time with her. And I thought we had more time to just be us.”

“I know you did, darling.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead and reveled in being able to touch her again, as his heart broke a little every time she would pull away from his touch.

“I’m not ready, Harry. I can’t do this all alone. It’s too much.” She spoke softly, shaking her head from side to side, still choking back sobs as she tried to regain her composure.

“You’re not doing anything on your own. The second we were married, your problems and responsibilities became mine too,” he assured her. He moved to grab her left hand in his own and showed her the rings that sat on their hands. “Remember these?” he breathed with a light chuckle. “You’re stuck with me for life, whether you like it or not.”

He watched as she processed the realization that he was there to lighten the load. It was like a lightbulb had gone off for her, slowly nodding along with what he said. She let her eyes fall to the dresses that surrounded her, but he gently took her chin and directed her eyes back to his. “Y/N, we are a team. I am always here for you and I always will be.”

He took a deep long breath before continuing on, “I love you.”

She didn’t think when she pressed her lips to him, she just did, desperate to be close to him again. A coldness had swallowed her for days, and his words brought back the smallest feeling of warmth, a glimpse of hope she had been desperate to find.

She had known the passing of her mother was coming for years, her illness getting progressively worse over time. She had always believed it would bring more pressure, weighing down on her heavier than ever before. But looking at their rings and the man before her, she was hit by the fact that she never had to carry the weight of the country all by herself. She had Harry the whole time. He was her partner; in life and in power.

“I love you, too,” she said after breaking the kiss, salty from all her tears. She was quiet and her voice was still shaking and unsteady from her sobs, but he was there, holding her and keeping her safe.

He held her hand, slotting their fingers together as he picked them both up off the ground and helped her pick a dress. It was a black blazer dress that fell below her knees with three crystal buttons going down the left side. Harry carefully helped her into the dress, his warm and respectful hands sliding up her bare skin as he pulled it up over her shoulders. He then sat her on her bed, and began to carefully brush out her hair, doing his best to work through knots without hurting the girl who was already hurting enough. And he held one of her hands gently while she sat at her vanity and did her makeup with her free one. He refused to leave her side.

Harry stayed firmly planted by her side throughout the entire day, not daring to leave her while she needed him. He knew that photos of him holding her hand tight during the funeral would make the press, and the photos of him wiping away her tears as they left would make the front page, but he didn’t care. She might be the queen, but she was also his Y/N.

***

Their fingers were always locked together, Harry’s thumb passing back and forth over the back of her hand in the steady rhythm he always used when she was stressed. He was there whenever she needed him, gently taking hold, to remind her that he was there and they were a team.

He cradled her hand as she crushed his, gritting through the most excruciating pain she had ever experienced. It felt like her entire body was being ripped apart from the inside out, but Harry’s hand was the light at the end of the tunnel. She was screaming and crying in the small crowded room, feeling like a science experiment as all the doctors looked on at her pain.

But it all stopped when she heard the smallest little cry.

Then shouts of “It’s a girl!”

Exhausted and elated tears flowed freely from her eyes that were locked on the slimy little baby a nurse was burredly placing on her chest. She was so small, delicate and breakable, with strong lungs that screamed out to announce her entrance into the world. And when her eyes opened for the first time, they revealed the same bright sea glass green tone that matched her father, the green she had been falling in love with and swimming around in for years.

This baby was so much more than just a little girl, not only to them, but to their countries. She would forge a kingdom united in the future, a product of peace and partnership. She was a symbol of unity and a future of kindness between their countries. She was the future.

But for right now, the tiny baby was just theirs.

She felt him press a proud kiss to her head before she connected their lips together in a tear filled kiss before they both looked back to their new pride and joy who was still screaming for all the attention.

“She’s beautiful, darling,” he whispered quietly though tears next to her, hand still grasped tightly onto hers. “You did such a good job.”

“Literally couldn’t have done it without you,” she chuckled, still staring down, entranced by the little girl who looked like her daddy.

The pair stayed with their baby, quiet and just being, long after the doctors and nurses left the room. They learned she liked to scream and sleep, about as much as you could learn about someone only hours old. But she didn’t have a name. They had been debating for the last nine months over what the little princess would be called.

“I think she should be named after your mother,” Harry would say.

“But I think she should be named after your grandmother,” She would reply.

Their roundabout banter never left the pair, only changed; from malicious and teasing, to one of loving partnership.

“So neither?” he quipped with a small smirk while holding the little girl tight to his chest.

“I guess we have to compromise; diplomatically,” she said with a giggle, alluding to how they got to this position in the first place.

“I feel like a loving marriage and a new baby is pretty good for diplomatic relations.”

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