#prince hal fanfiction

[smolvenger]

My Lord (Prince Hal x fem! Reader Oneshot)

Summary: After you dance with another man, Prince Hal, your royal intended has a confession to make...

Warnings: SMUT! 18+ (fingering, p in v sex, doing it on a desk), historical inaccuracies for the sake of vibes, grammar and spelling mistakes, angst and fluff.

Dick-tionary: Smut starts at “Kiss me again, my dove,” and ends at "You pressed foreheads, feeling his warm breath and how soft his skin felt- comforting, gentle. "

Word Count: 3K

A/N: From @muddyorbsblr's request! It ended up being longer, oops. But enjoy!

A03//My Ko-Fi//My Etsy Shop//Masterlist//Wattpad

Taglist: @asgards-princess-of-mischief @jennyggggrrr @five-miles-over @fictive-sl0th @ladycamillewrites @villainousshakespeare @holdmytesseract @eleniblue @twhxhck @lokisgoodgirl @lovelysizzlingbluebird @raqnarokr @holymultiplefandomsbatman @michelleleewise @wolfsmom1 @cheekyscamp @mochie85 @fandxmslxt69 @skittslackoffilter @mischief2sarawr

Despite your fine dress and the rich wine flowing, you felt somber at your betrothal ball. Not that the ball itself was a sad event. No, you were not merry from everything around you. It was all merry with the throne room decorated with flowers and jigs being played by the musicians. Your melancholy was due to your intended.

 Of all the good lords and gentlemen on this green isle, only one was destined to be the next king. And that was who you were going to marry. Your parents were thrilled when the king agreed to the marriage. They smiled and embraced you as an artist hugged their painting. They managed to sell you to the highest bidder.

His Majesty Prince Henry the Fourth of Lancaster. The highest bidder indeed.

 Or Hal, as the taverns ruffians called him. Hal. Riotous, dishonorable, pranking, thieving, tavern hopping, wench chasing, sack drinking Hal. Beautiful, princely, decadent Hal. Every time his brothers had to tell their father the truth of Hal’s layabouts…the king would turn red with fury. Not that you were surprised.

Even if the scoundrel you were going to call your husband had been kind to you these past few months. He would be by your side. And trying to win you over or get you to smile. Flirt with you- he did to hundreds of women at this point! No doubt! Your inner giddiness was mixed with a silent rage and you weren’t sure which would pop out first each time he got your hand and kissed it gently. Hal was beautiful. A handsome, handsome man who wore his doublets tight on his lean frame and walked with a swagger, his auburn curls freed about his head. There was a charm to his manner, and feelings were in you when you looked at him. Feelings you didn’t like. Feelings you didn’t dare name. 

For that, you remained polite. Never forward. Nice, but nothing more. For what else could you do? The world of court could be deadly and dangerous. The world’s eyes were on you. You couldn’t afford to make a reckless move.

Despite the garden walks and meals, there was that sliver of distrust. If you didn’t see him, he could be on the floor of the filthiest bar in Eastcheap passed out on the floor from drink. Or in a room with two tavern women in positions that would make a sailor blush.

And the last picture of him in bed with other women- it made you want to scream and sob and throw your goblet at the wall until it smashed into a hundred bits and then pick your skirts, march to the other end of the room, and slap him hard across his beautiful face.

You took a deep breath. 

It was just your imagination. Nothing actually happened. One inhale, then another exhale. The walls were grey stone, the candlelight yellow, and the music from a flute was playing something fast.

Why were you like this, you had to remind yourself! You didn’t like him! Why should that matter? You had to remember how much you didn’t care and didn’t like him.

 He could have every woman in England on their knees for him every night and you would not care. You would go about your merry way and when you didn’t have to squeeze out a son, you would enjoy the monetary benefits of servants, fine dresses, horses, gold, jewels, money to buy whatever thing you wanted, and the freedom to do as you pleased as queen.

You held your chin up. Only glad it was a lovely party. All were taking gentle sips of wine, sampling the roast boar, listening to lutes, and laughing over nothing. You felt like doing none. In a whole crowd of people, you felt alone, isolated, and cut off. Like a foreigner trying to make a friend but never knowing how to speak the language. They gathered and talked…and here you were. The most wanted and yet also the most unwanted.

Taking a deep breath, you continued to walk in to try to get your mind off of things.

There were dances as well. But you felt as if your soles were made of lead. For all were celebrating your marriage to this scoundrel.

This beautiful, delectable, leather-clad scoundrel. Looking at him across the room, something inside you churned. And you were frightened to name it.

 He was in the corner, talking to his brothers. You turned your eyes down. For the party was in swing and in a way, as if they forgot you were its purpose. They wanted to laugh and gossip and drink. Forget their worldly cares and be merry.

You brought your eyes up to search for him. Your heart beat a little harder seeing Prince Hal at the other end of the room. How delicious he looked. His tight leather jacket was the color of the wine. He preferred rougher, bawdier parties- that was why he was frowning as his father went up to talk to him.  And here you were, just to be tolerated as his bride. It seemed queenhood was a lifetime away, as was your marriage. For all of this fuss over you both being joined,   you couldn’t help but feel separated.

Taking a deep breath, you put both hands on your cup and took another sip, resisting the urge to gulp down your wine and let the alcohol take its effect.

As you walked in, the Lord of Warwick went up.

“My lady- here is my nephew, Thomas! He’s going to appear at Court more often!” the lord introduced.

You curtsied and gave a smile.

The Lord of Warwick’s nephew with his own blonde hair and blue eyes and skin that tanned. He was a polite, warm friendly boy. For having just met him, he left a good impression on you. The uncle even stepped aside to let you talk. Then Thomas held out a hand.

“They’re having dances. Would you give me a dance, my lady?”

“I would love to,” you replied.

You enjoyed his company as you danced. He was very good too- Hal himself had no “strength in measure” and was inches from always stepping on your toes the grand total of two times you danced. Passing between couples, joining, parting, and reasoning hands to the lute music. You felt at peace.

Little did you know Hal’s eyes were on you.

They were on you every time you the whole evening.

Prince Hal scowled. He was practically red with anger. The second the dance ended, he marched up to you. Thomas looked sickly pale and you felt your stomach drop. You never saw Hal himself have any anger and part of you was terrified. They always say it’s the ones who are never angry you watch out for. 

“My lord, what is the matter?” you asked after your curtsey.

“I would like to speak with my lady intended,” Hal ordered.

Thomas handed you over quickly. 

Amidst the ball, Hal grabbed your arm. Fie, his hand- large, beautiful hands taking a whole of your arm and dragging you to the hallways and through a door. Jesu, was he going to hurt you? Hal never once did anything that would harm you. He seemed too mischievous and cheerful to seem capable of raising his hand to a woman, much less you. There was a fierceness on his fast that made your heart race. You didn’t know if you were feeling lust, terror, or both at once.

The room was a study. The night sky shone outside, though there were lights from the torches and candles. None were inside-perhaps at the party. With tall bookshelves and desks, it would have been a comforting room had your heart been beating wildly against your ribs. 

He looked at you up and down. He saw your dress, how it formed you well, and hugged you in the right places. A warmth flushed over you, and you realized you were panting a little to deepen your breaths. But his face was still angry. Beautifully, beautifully angry.

“What, what is the matter?” you asked. Hoping to get this over with quickly.

“Quite a bit, that is the matter!” Hal replied, ruffling his curly hair.

You gestured at the door.

“My lord, they will notice we are gone. We have a party to attend to…”

Hal reached up a hand that he held in the air. You looked back at him. His voice remained soft, matter of fact, right to the bone.

“My lady, we have to discuss young Warwick. The way you were dancing at him, smiling at him.”

“Oh, him!” you said. You had deduced it. He just had to say it himself. 

“Yes! The look he was giving you like he would be falling before your feet any minute! Your smile at him! And you were encouraging him,  and I-”

“Are you jealous, Harry?” you interrupted, blurting out the obvious.

He turned a little pink.

“Yes, well- what if I am? Should I not be if a gentleman dances with my lady?”

“A lady can rarely turn down another man. My mother told me it is impolite to refuse a man’s offer to dance!” you reasoned.

Hal leaned closer to you.

“You have promised yourself to me, not him! You’re engaged to me!”

He paused and his mouth hung in mid-air. You saw his eyes were shining bright, he was…on the brink of tears. The jolliest scoundrel in all of England and…he was crying. When you imagined him with other women earlier…was that the very feeling he was having as well?

You closed the distance to him, you offered your hand and he took it.

“Hal, I am sorry. I didn’t think you would be upset or even care that I danced with him…” you consoled.

He brought up a hand and wiped a tear off with his palm.

“I forgive you, my lady. Only….That the way you were beaming at him, and not at me, I…I don’t even have words for it and- YN- it makes me angry because…because…I wish it were me you were smiling at…me and only me. That one smile. Then I’d know for sure that you’d love me and we could be find a way to-”

You gasped.

“What did you say?!”

Your face was closer to his, your voice even softer. He paused. His tears stopped.

“You…you love me?”

He flushed, hung his head low, and then back up.

“I do, my sweeting. I love you so much. I don’t know how else to say it or what speeches or things to give. If I am under your spell, I never wish to be out of it. I don’t ask you to love me back at all…I only ask you…you… pity me.”

His face was right before words. Your own mouth began to speak of its own accord. The music was softer, and distant, as if the ball was a world away.

“Hal…even with everything in Eastcheap, I…I… I…I cannot help but…but want to see you, and speak to you, I think of you and wonder what you are doing when you’re away. And I…I worry about you. I want you happy- more than happy, safe.”

He closed the distance and kissed you. The first kiss you ever had other than chaste pecks on the hand. You shuddered at it as he wrapped his hands around you, one hand crawling up your back. He knew his way around a woman’s body. And he knew what would make your knees tremble.  You melted into his arms, collapsing into the kiss, into the embrace. He tasted of wine, of freedom.

He let go. But it was as if something awoke that was long asleep. You let him keep his hands on you, to feel your body beneath your dress—one on your hip, fingers inches away from the most private, precious of places on you. You kept on babbling despite yourself.

“All the battles your father sends you on and… and…I was worried, worried you would die…worried something would happen to you- and then, the Eastcheap visits….I was worried…worried you and Doll would.”

“There were no whores. Not since we’ve met,” he replied.

You kissed him again, and you leaned closer to him, wrapping your arms to feel his back. Dizzy and drink on him. You heard his moan. 

He leaned back on a chair and had you straddle him. You gasped, feeling your legs come apart. Places between you were starting to dampen and it was just over where his most secret places were. You were never this close, this intimate with each other

“Kiss me again, my dove,” he commanded.

You kissed him again, his fingers crawling, up your leg. He found your hip and then moved you. You moaned from the friction, the touching and brushing of your bodies. 

But you wanted it, you didn’t stop him.

His hands were over you, greedily touching since you were all his now-his betrothed, his wife, and soon his queen- and he would make sure you never forgot it. He gave you a last grind of your hips. 

His hands desperately searched your clothes, trying to find the seams. But you were aching, going up for him, needing him.

“Hal- Hal!” you whispered

“And what if I do? I can’t bear it- the longer I’m with you, the more desire overcomes me- You drive me mad- I can’t, I can’t take it, my dear, my love-I-I have to ravish you, here-now-”

“Yes, you may…”

He slid aside the papers and books so the desk was clear. You swallowed, getting incredibly wet but excited with his flushed face. But his eyes determined, an animal after his prey. And nothing could tear him from his prize.

 He kissed you, prompting you to sit. He undid a bit of your bodice, pulling it down, finding your breasts. The cold air touched it as his pupils darkened over the sight of you. 

“You’re exquisite, darling, and you’re not his, you’re mine-”

Once they were revealed, he fondled them, thumb grazing over the hard nipples. You moaned appreciatively. All while he kissed your neck.

“Say it, say you’re mine,” he whispered.

“I’m yours,” you replied.

He then freed a hand. It moved up your leg.

“All of this, this beauty, it is all mine-and I’ll drive you there, until you cry out for all of them to hear.”

slid a finger inside and you gasped, feeling it stretch you. You gasped as he curled up- surprised his long finger could go so deep, and find a spot that brought so much pleasure and pain as he discovered the little nub inside you. 

“My- my lord!”

He kissed your neck again, then looked at you, smugness spread on his lips.

“Yes….yes, call me that.”

He gathered your skirt up and then undid his codpiece and released his pants, standing at full attention. You gave a small gasp at the sight of his size. He looked at you darkly, a new tone in his voice- deadly and commanding, a king to his whore

“You will be good and make it fit, every bit of it. And you will call me my lord.”

His hands made your legs come wide apart, he moved you up. He was slow, entering you, so you got used to it. You let out a moan, tugging onto him.

“Yes…take it…like a good girl…take it.”

He forced your legs further apart, sheathing you in with a grunt. You let out a sound, your insides penetrated, clutching onto him, feeling your bare breasts against his leather. Your blouse fell lower, exposing both. He then gave a first, sloppy thrust. Then he was seated inside you.

“My lord!” you cried out.

“There-there- I will make you scream it louder,” he growled.

Then he began thrusting—his moans in your ear. You dug your fingers into his shoulders and grabbed your hips, keeping tight. The desk made a sound as you did. It began slowly.

“My-my lord, oh- gods- yes, there, my lord-gods-gods blood-”

It then picked up, your breasts bouncing and your heart racing. All you knew was him, felt was him. You were moaning even louder. It was a desperate, animal. Pounding his hips into yours.

He released one hand. It found your nub between. You gasped. He then strummed it with each deep, forceful, desperate pounding.

“H-My-My lord I-I-there-oh-oh god-I’m-I’m going-going to-to die, but- don’t-don’t-don’t stop-”

“You’re close, you’re-you’re close, darling-call me that-yes-now-fuck,yes-yes-

“Say it, say it when you cum-I’m-I’m going to cum-cum inside- cum, fie, lady- fie, it’s on me now- cum, fie, lady -cum!”

He picked it up incredibly fast, you held onto him, your pleasure spinning out of control. 

“Yes- close, close- come on now, give in- let go-”

With a grunt, his seed shot into you and the release of pleasure broke inside you. You didn't say his title but gasped. The light had hit you and made everything duller, things spun, and you felt as if you were in oblivion. 

In a final whisper, you only whispered once more “My…my lord…” Your nails dug into him- your lord, your intended, your prince, and your husband. A marriage not sworn but already consummated.

He pulled out, and then cupped your face, “as you are my lady.”

You pressed foreheads, feeling his warm breath and how soft his skin felt- comforting, gentle.

He helped you off and then readjusted your dress so all was well. Making sure the blouse covered you up and that your skirt was in place.

“Are you not hurt?” he asked.

“Not a bit.”

He wrapped a protective arm around you, leading you out. 

“Here…we must return to the party…I will fetch us some wine.”

“And…you can have the next dance, my lord,” you said.

He smiled at you- not a naughty smile, but a kind, genuine smile that burst with love.

“As you have all of mine, my lady.”

His smile shone brighter than any candlelight. He gave you a last kiss before you were on his arm, returning to the party. 

#smut #carrie writes #prince hal #prince hal x reader #tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston characters #angst with a happy ending #the hollow crown #prince hal fanfiction #prince hal x you #prince hal x y/n #prince hal smut #prince hal imagine #prince hal the hollow crown

[five-miles-over]

Can you write a one shot about Yandere Prince Hal where he became obsessed with a servant in his castle please?

Thanks for the request and for your patience, anon! Hope you like it :)

You Will Be Mine

Warnings: yandere behavior, forced kissing, obsession

Attempting to outdrink Falstaff was never a brilliant idea.

Like a fawn learning to walk for the the first time, Prince Hal staggered through the halls of the palace. The rays of the morning sunlight stung his eyes like pointed needles, and his head was filled with an all-too-familiar pain It felt as if someone had been striking the insides of his head, a bell ringer inside his skull. His arms and legs were as heavy as bread dough, and his throat was more parched than a barren field.

"Uhh…." Hal winced, trying to wish his hangover away. As soon as he stumbled upon a bedroom that looked like his own, the prince flopped onto the bed face-down. A female - presumably a servant of some kind - chirped immediately, asking if "His Majesty" would like some breakfast. 

How the hell was she so cheery at this hour?…Was it even time for breakfast? Hal wondered, having no knowledge of the exact moment he fell asleep at the tavern. His stomach churned. "No, just something edible," he muttered.

As soon as he could hear the sound of the servant's footsteps leaving his chamber, Hal groaned into the pillow while his head throbbed. This was not the first time the prince of England found himself in such a state after a wild night. After this ordeal ended, Hal would probably meet up with his friend John Oldcastle in the forest, and play a prank upon some unfortunate travelers that happened to be passing by. And after that, they might sweet-talk Falstaff into singing something pretty, and they might be able to enjoy some more of that special, far-too-expensive-for-you wine Falstaff kept bragging about…actually scratch that, wine was probably the last thing that Hal wanted to think about now, let alone drink. 

Holding a tray with slices of rye bread, aged cheese, a pitcher of mead with low alcohol content, and some honey reserved for the royal family, you made your way to the entrance of the prince's chamber. "Your Grace, I've brought you breakfast. May I come in?"

Who was this? Hal knew this voice was different than the voice of the maid who approached him earlier. But there was something inviting about the way you spoke, something…that made him wish for more. "Come in." 

The prince rolled onto his side, catching a glimpse of you as you made your way to a wooden table. All of a sudden, Hal no longer found himself concerned with his headache or his upset stomach. A new energy filled his once-fatigued limbs and his eyes were no longer afraid of the light, all because you entered his chambers. What sort of sorcery did you have that made him feel this way?

Hal's gaze followed you as you placed the tray on a table and fixed your hair. "Tell me your name," the prince commanded. 

You politely replied, telling him the name you were born with as well as the name that most people used to refer to you.

With a nod, Hal studied you. He couldn't quite explain why, but the more you spoke and the more he looked at you, the more…beautiful you seemed to him. Actually, beautiful was but a mere shallow word to describe the way that Hal saw you. Enchanting might be more suitable; your voice was luring him like a siren's call, and the nimble movement of your fingertips along your hair enticed him more than any half-naked tavern wench.

"Come closer. I feel fatigued to eat much," the prince lied. At this point, he was only looking for an excuse to bring you closer to him. 

You obediently sat on the edge of the bed with the tray in your lap, save for the pitcher of mead, which remained on the table. Carefully, you ripped a small piece of rye and the prince caught it in his mouth. 

Hal continued to enjoy your loveliness while he chewed each morsel, thoughts of kissing and touching you filling his mind. But this was far different than the lustful liquor-filled impulses Hal felt when he locked eyes with a wench or a prostitute in a bar. No, his feelings for you were more. He couldn't quite explain why he felt so much desire for you, and neither did he truly want to. All he knew was that you belonged by his side, that there was something that felt right about the rather-intimate position of sitting on his bed so close to him. 

After the prince cleaned the plate, one bite at a time, you bowed to the prince with a smile and promptly left…too soon for his liking, of course. Before he could protest or call your name, you had already disappeared from the room.

Naughty little fairy, Hal laughed under his breath. You did not even asked if you had his permission to be dismissed. Not that it mattered anyways…you already stayed long enough to leave a permanent imprint in his mind. And now, you left him with no choice but to find you, and to get you all for himself. 

Filled with a new energy and the hangover now long-forgotten, Hal roughly threw aside his bedsheets - not even caring that he was still wearing the clothes from last night - and strode into the hallway like a hunter entering a thicket. The servants present immediately halted their conversations and bowed as soon as they caught sight of him, but he barely regarded any of them. All Hal could think about was finding you. 

As he traversed throughout the palace, his pace grew quicker and his patience grew thinner, causing him to curl his fingers until his knuckles were white. He could not bring himself to stop moving until he knew for sure where you were in the palace. Nothing else mattered - not the flabbergasted looks from courtiers expecting him to be in some dirty tavern during this time of day, and not the the gossip among the old maids about which noble girl had been deflowered before her wedding date. All he needed was you, your dulcet voice, and your enchanting beauty. And when he found you, Hal would ensure that he would be the only one who could run his fingers through your soft hair, the only one who could wrap his arms around that lovely body of yours.

"Your majesty, some ale?" A male, young servant shakily approached him. Already aflame with his desire and exasperated at his inability to find you, Hal glared at the servant and threw the pint in the servant's face before continuing his hunt.

Hal finally found you out on one of the palace balconies, hanging a bedsheet to dry, surrounded by other laundresses. Your hair was tied back, save for a few strands outlining your delicate face. He wanted to approach you, dismiss the others, and passionately embrace you…but he did not. If he held you now and kissed your lips, he would not be able to stop. The desire to consume you would overwhelm him, like a drunkard with an unopened bottle of wine. So, he leaned against the entrance to the balcony, crossing his arms while eyeing you from a distance. 

He took in every detail of you, memorizing each and every curve, every detail upon your body that wasn't hidden by your loose dress. He watched you laugh without a care in the world while you went about your washing and cleaning, talking to the other laundresses. Yes, you looked to be enjoying yourself even while you toiled, but Hal knew that when he made you his, you would never have to lift a finger for anything. He would provide you anything and everything you needed, all for your unflinching loyalty and your undying love in return. For that, Hal would be ready to do anything, anything to keep you by his side.

Eventually, you and the other laundresses finished your work on the balcony and begin to chatter amongst each other, making plans for the night. Holding the empty baskets that once held dirty sheets, you all turned around and made your way to the doorway…only to silently curtsy as soon as the prince caught your eye.

"Ladies," Hal smirked at you all before courteously stepping out of the way so they could leave. But when you came forward, the prince blocked you with his arm.

You flinched, holding the large wicker basket. "Your Majesty…"

Hal commanded you to put the basket down, and clasped your chin so that your eyes were looking into his. He murmured your name like a prayer before asking, "What were you talking about with them?"

"We…we were talking about our lives…"

"And?"

"We had plans to go to the local bathhouse tonight…,Your Majesty"

"No," Hal sharply said. "I cannot let you go there."

Your eyes widened. "Why not, Your Majesty?"

"Because those places are filthy, and terribly unsavory things take place in those dreaded bathhouses." He stroked your cheek with his thumb. "I only want to protect you, my dearest."

"Your Majesty…"

"Hal," he corrected you. "Perhaps I can give you a bath, one far better and more deserving for a beautiful lady like you."

"Hal, you flatter me," you blushed, pretending to laugh at what seemed like banter

"The way you say my name is beyond perfect." The prince whispered in awe before crashing his lips onto yours. With one hand cupping your cheek, his other hand snaked around your hip and tightly held you. That was all it took for Hal to give into his desire for you, to venture past a point of no return. 

A whimper escaped your lips and your body tensed in his eery embrace. Yet somehow it only made the prince deepen the kiss until he could no longer breathe.

"The world is a scary and dangerous place," Hal gently said, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. "If you stay here, you'll be safe. In my arms." 

"I can't, I h-"

"I need you." The prince insisted, wrapping his large hand around your wrist with a deathly grip. "You don’t understand...I need to feel your small hand in my own, I need to hear your voice, touch your lips…you cannot turn away from me."

"I need to -" You tried to leave, but the prince maintains his firm hold upon you.

"We have a bond, my dearest. No one can ever imagine to know what our love is like.” Hal pulled you in for another, more passionate kiss. "And I will make you love me. I'm willing to break any rule for you, to burn the world for you, my everything," he whispered against your lips. "You will be mine."

#prince hal #prince hal fanfiction #prince hal x reader #prince hal imagine #the hollow crown #tom hiddleston characters #henry iv #tom hiddleston imagines #tw: yandere #yandere male #male yandere

[bittersweetstargazer]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Justice League - All Media Types, Batman - All Media Types, DCU Rating: General Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Diana (Wonder Woman) & Clark Kent & Bruce Wayne, Clark Kent & Bruce Wayne, Hal Jordan (Green Lantern) & Bruce Wayne, Barry Allen & Bruce Wayne, Diana (Wonder Woman) & Bruce Wayne, Justice League & Bruce Wayne Characters: Bruce Wayne, Clark Kent, Diana (Wonder Woman), Hal Jordan (Green Lantern), Barry Allen, Justice League (DCU) Additional Tags: Identity Reveal, Secret Identity Fail, Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, Attempt at Humor, Humor, Based on a Tumblr Post, Bruce Wayne is So Done, bruce identity reveal gone wrong basically lmao Summary:

"As I was saying, I've decided it was high time that you all learned who I was. We've known each other long enough, and we've fought by each other's sides for all that time. I trust you all equally with this."

Silence reigned as Bruce reached up, grabbing the base of his face covering, and pulled off his cowl.

Nothing. And then—

Hal relaxed once again, taking a deep breath. "That was kind of anticlimactic, if you ask me. You're honestly just some guy."

And because he really didn't have anything else to say, he blurted out, "Do you not recognize me?"

~ Bruce reveals his identity . . . It doesn't go as planned ~

@bbbbbbbbatman i wrote it 

#yeahhh whooo #bruce wayne #clark kent #diana prince #hal jordan #barry allen #batman #superman #wonder woman #green lantern #flash #the flash #fanfic #fanfiction #dc fanfic #inspired by a tumblr post

[lazy-anxietyinfectedzombie]

Chapters: 11/? Fandom: Justice League - All Media Types, DCU (Comics) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Billy Batson/Courtney Whitmore, Billy Batson & Justice League Characters: Billy Batson, Clark Kent, Bruce Wayne, Diana (Wonder Woman), Hal Jordan (Green Lantern), Barry Allen, Arthur Curry (DCU), Victor Stone, J'onn J'onzz, Freddy Freeman (DCU), Darla Dudley, Mary Batson | Mary Bromfield, Pedro Peña, Eugene Choi (DCU), Rosa Vasquez (DCU), Victor Vasquez, Tawky Tawny, Courtney Whitmore, Zatanna Zatara Additional Tags: Family, Identity Reveal, Identity Issues, Misunderstandings, Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Billy Batson Needs a Hug, Billy Batson-centric, BAMF Billy Batson, Let Billy Batson Swear, Good Sibling Billy Batson, Billy Batson is Captain Marvel | Shazam, Homeless Billy Batson, Drabble Collection, Some Humor, Families of Choice, Protective Justice League, Injury Recovery, Blood and Injury, Not Beta Read, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Captain Marvel and Billy Batson are two separate beings in the same body, like Hulk and Bruce Banner, Demigod Billy Batson, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Shazamily (DCU) Summary:

Collection of unrelated half cooked drabbles centering around Billy Batson.

I saw people dump their ideas on Ao3 so I decided to do the same, they are up for taking, anyone who wants to use them is free to do so, but if you do use them leave me a link so I can read it! ⚡⚡⚡

#dc comics #billy batson #captain marvel #drabbles #justice league #fanfiction #clark kent #superman #bruce wayne #batman #diana prince #wonder woman #aquaman #flash #barry allen #hal jordan #green lantern #shazam #dcu #dc #shazamily #stargirl #zatanna

[asgards-princess-of-mischief]

Last Updated: 2024-02-02

Disclaimer: I am not the author of these stories, just sharing my favourite Prince Hal/Henry V stories. Find the authors' links below. If you want your work removed, message me privately.

Legend: 〔E〕 ⇢ Erotic/Steamy | 〔F〕 ⇢ Fluff | 〔A〕 ⇢ Angst/Hurt 〔M〕 ⇢ Minor Angst/Hurt | 〔C〕 ⇢ Comfort | ♥︎ ⇢ Established Relationship | 𑁍 ⇢ Pregnancy/Children | 🚫 ⇢ Content Warning

✠ Claimed￨Prt. II￨Prt. III by yespolkadotkitty • 18+ • 〔E᜶M〕 • 🚫 •

Summary: When an unknown man claims ownership of your home, you determine the best course of action is to gain his favour by using your feminine wiles.

✠ Arise Fair Sun by smolvenger • 〔F〕 •

Summary: "One night, Henry appears under your balcony to confess his feelings to you."

✠ Army of King Henry V, the by frostbitten-written • 18+ • 〔E᜶C〕 • ♥︎ •

Summary: "King Henry V will be departing for battle on the morrow. He and his queen share one last night of passion, with hopes of conceiving"

✠ Her Prince￨Prt. II by omgrachwrites • 〔F᜶A〕 •

Summary: "The man that comes to visit you at your woodland cottage —the man that you're falling in love with —is a mystery. When you discover what he's hiding from you, it turns your... world upside down."

✠ Nursing the Prince by smolvenger • 〔F〕 •

Summary: "You tend to Prince Hal's wounds after the Battle of Shrewsbury."

✠ Prince and the Servant, the￨Prt. II by angelkurenai • 〔F〕 •

Summary:

✠ Queen's Abduction, the by smolvenger • 16+ • 〔A᜶C〕 • 🚫 •

Summary: "Shortly after your secret marriage to the king of England, Henry V, a nefarious villain abducts you to be his..."

✠ Second Floor, the by shiningloki • 18+ • 〔E᜶F〕 • ♥︎ •

Summary: "Prince Hal has been visiting the ale house for as long as he could remember. He met you there —a woman employed by the tavern to pleasure its customers. After taking you for the night, Hal [demands you] be reserved for his personal use only... Six months later, Hal [returns after leaving for war three weeks early] later to indulge in [you], but this time, he has come with a shocking revelation."

✠ Shy by high-functioning-lokipath • 〔F〕 •

Summary: "[Like] many nights, Hal finds himself in the Eastcheap taverns… [However,] this night, he notices something different — or rather, someone. Blending into the background... [you keep your] head down... as [you clean] up... occasionally [you glance] their way, meeting his eyes a few times but never lingering in his gaze. [So] as any cocky, self-assured Prince would do, he saunters over to [you], his head held high... with a charming smirk painted on his lips."

✠ Tavern Prince by smolvenger • 〔F〕 •

Summary: "You are shocked and unhappy to find out you are betrothed to notorious rake, Prince Hal. But one evening, he sneaks you into the Boar's Head Tavern... and your mind about him starts to change."

✠ Used Goods￨Prt. II by smolvenger • 〔F᜶A〕 • ♥︎ • 🚫 •

Summary: "While betrothed to... Hal. But The Law of Contract states that you must be a virgin to marry into royalty. You are not; you didn't choose to...and to escape arrest and treason, you must seek the Prince and tell him your dark secret of being sexually abused as a child. Is the betrothal over? How will Hal react?"

✠ Wedding of the King, the by smolvenger • 16+ • 〔F᜶C〕 • 🚫 •

Summary: "Henry consents to an arranged marriage to [you, a noble woman]. He is enthusiastic about [the marriage] upon meeting [you]. [Nevertheless,] as the wedding day arrives, he learns that [you are] not."

✠ Wordless by megthemewlingquim • 18+ • 〔E〕 • ♥︎ •

Summary:

✠ You Will Be Mine by five-miles-over • 〔E〕 • 🚫 •

Summary: Hal takes a special interest in one of the palace servants.

✠ Beautiful by angelkurenai • 〔F〕 •

✠ Beautiful as Always by lady-rose-moon • 18+ • 〔E〕 • ♥︎ •

✠ Fairytale by five-miles-over • 〔F〕 •

✠ Fight by angelkurenai • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ • 𑁍 •

✠ His Queen by smolvenger • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

✠ Prince Charming by jewels2876 • 〔F〕 •

✠ Shamless by megthemewlingquim • 18+ • 〔C〕 • ♥︎ •

✠ Waking Through the Forest by high-functioning-lokipath • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

See Also: Navigation || Prince Hal/Henry V Master Index

See Also: @angelkurenai || @five-miles-over || @frostbitten-written || @high-functioning-lokipath || @jewels2876 || @lady-rose-moon || @megthemewlingquim || @omgrachwrites || @shiningloki || @smolvenger || @yespolkadotkitty ||

#Prince Hal x Reader #Prince Hal x Y/N #Prince Hal x You #Henry V x Reader #Henry V x Y/N #Henry V x You #Tom Hiddleston x Reader #Tom Hiddleston x Female Reader #Tom Hiddleston x Y/N #Tom Hiddleston x You #The Hollow Crown Fanfiction #The Hollow Crown Fanfic #Tom Hiddleston Fanfiction #Tom Hiddleston Fanfic

[thepineconelord]

Summary:

The JLA encounters an old friend of Batman's while on a mission. The Ghostmaker is an eccentric man, but when he gets hit with some unknown magic it only gets worse.

(ghostmaker gets hit with magic that 'cures' his psychopathy and superman has to deal with it)

Thanks to @pinksilvace (and one other dear friend who doesn't have ao3/tumblr) for helping with my editing <333

#minhkhoa khan #ghost-maker #ghost maker #ghostbat #superman #bruce wayne #batman #clark kent #ghostmaker #fanfic #batman fanfiction #dc #dc comics #justice league #wonder woman #diana of themyscira #diana prince #john constantine #hal jordan #barry allen #pinecone moment

[eliemo]

Somniphobia

Summary: Somniphobia: The irrational fear of falling asleep Bruce has to protect them. It doesn't matter how long he's been awake, it doesn't matter how exhausted he is. He's never safe when he shuts his eyes. No one is. Why can't they understand that? Notes: Superbat, Justice League as a family, tw for panic attacks, nightmares, and Bruce having lots of issues also this got deleted but it's back now!

If Bruce was in a better mood, he might have teased Clark over his choice of car. Really, it would have been less ridiculous if they’d all just taken separate vehicles. 

As it was, Batman driving a minivan full of exhausted superheroes through the desolate countryside wasn’t something anyone was finding a way to make light of right now. It was a testament to how grim their situation was that Barry hadn’t even cracked a joke when Bruce had kicked Superman out of the driver’s seat, and Clark had slid over to the passenger side without a word. 

Flash had, however, complained for the first fifteen minutes of the drive, fidgety and restless where he was sat in between Green Lantern and Aquaman, insisting that it would be safer if Bruce gave him the address so he could scope the place out before the rest of the league arrived. 

“Absolutely not,” Clark had said, clearly run ragged with the weight on his shoulders, voice tighter than he usually would have allowed. “Like Diana said, we need to limit using our powers as much as we can. We have no idea how they’ve been tracking us, we can’t risk it.” 

“But we can't just–” 

Batman had met his eyes in the rearview mirror, leveling Flash with a steely glare, and Barry had immediately shut his mouth without further complaint. 

Really, as if Bruce would ever bring them somewhere that could be compromised. 

He’d lost track of how long they’d been driving for, the world outside of the road in front of him blurring dangerously, but he knew the way to all of his safehouses like the back of his hand. It had to be pushing six hours or so by now, the sky darkening to a sea of orange and gray as the sun sank behind the endless scenery of dark forest.  

Bruce hadn’t been this exhausted in a long time. He was used to going days without sleep, night after night spent patrolling Gotham’s streets, but the last week had taken a toll on all of them.  

The Justice League had been kept on their toes, running from battle to battle for four days straight, their enemy always two steps ahead, never giving them a chance to rest. The Watchtower had been compromised and the founding members of the League had been sent running, left on the defensive without a solid plan of attack. 

They needed to lay low as long as they could, gather their bearings and come up with a plan before someone got killed. Nobody was thrilled about it, sitting back and waiting when a hostile force could change tactics and start targeting innocents at any moment, but there wasn’t much of a choice until they figured out what it was they were up against. 

Hence the minivan with tinted windows, and Bruce driving them to one of his remote safehouses. He’d done everything in his power to ensure they weren’t being tracked or followed, and the roads were desolate, but he hadn’t let himself drop his guard for a second.  

Clark and Diana had both offered to drive several times, worry lacing into their tones as they tried to coax him into pulling over, but he’d barely offered them a word of response, shrugging off their concern and keeping his eyes fixated on the road, stubbornly ignoring the way the right one had begun to twitch. 

Most of the others managed to doze off a bit during the car ride, Bruce able to breathe just a bit easier each time he saw one of them sleeping soundly, even if it was only for a few minutes. Even Clark managed to rest his eyes when it became clear Batman had no intention of willingly giving up the wheel.

Bruce was used to running himself this thin. He’d been burning the candle at both ends his entire life, he could handle a few more days. He’d rest when the Justice League was safely back in the Watchtower where they belonged. 

“We’re here,” Bruce said, turning the van onto the dirt road. He ignored the spike of guilt in his chest when Hal jolted awake at his words. “Get in as quickly as you can, then check and make sure every door and window is locked.”

They all went without argument, Clark and Arthur moving around to the trunk to bring in what little supplies they’d managed to grab. Bruce slowly made his rounds along the outside of the cabin, scanning the walls and the ground, double and triple checking for any signs of life. 

There shouldn’t be anyone around for miles, the cabin one of his more secluded safehouses, and everything seemed to be just as untouched as it was when he’d left it last. They hadn’t been followed, he’d been doing this long enough to know when he was being tailed, and they had a decent vantage point in case anyone did try to ambush them. Still, it never hurt to be wary. 

The rest of the team was already inside by the time he slipped through the front door and locked it behind him, (Three locks. All of his safehouses had three sets of locks.) all of them doing exactly what he’d said and checking every window latch and every back door. Bruce could feel Superman’s eyes on him, scanning his movements for any sign of fatigue, but he refused to waver under Clark’s gaze. 

He was fine. He’d been hiding his entire life, disappearing in order to survive, weaving lies and shadows to everyone who laid eyes on him. A situation like this wasn’t something that was entirely unfamiliar. 

He just wasn’t used to having other people to worry about. 

He should feel better this time. There were people here he trusted with his life, people who had proven time and time again that they had his back as much as he had theirs, capable heroes who could hold their own no matter what the world threw at him. 

Instead, it was only sending his thoughts spiraling farther downward than they would have if he’d been alone. Too many things could go wrong. Too many people could get hurt. One wrong move could mean he loses a teammate. One bad decision could get his friends killed. 

This was exactly why he worked alone. 

“We should be safe here for a couple days at least,” Bruce said . Should be. They had to be. “I’ll keep an eye on things and make sure we don’t have any company. The sooner we come up with a plan the better.” 

“Nice place,” Hal commented, plopping onto the flimsy armchair in the corner of the main room. Bruce didn’t think that thing had ever been sat on before now. “If it wasn’t for the impending doom, this might actually be a nice getaway.” 

“It is a nice view,” Wonder Woman agreed. Bruce rubbed his temples, barely registering their words through the mush his brain was quickly melting into. “Right now all we can do is wait for J’onn to get back to us with more information. Until then, we all need to get some rest. We’ll be useless in battle run ragged like this.” 

“She’s right.” 

Bruce did his best to tune back in as Superman voiced his agreement, a shudder of relief falling over the rest of the team, but his mind was stuck elsewhere. 

This was one of the largest safehouses he had access to, but there was still the question of having enough room for everyone. The manor would have easily been able to house all of them, but putting Alfred or the kids at unnecessary risk was out of the question. 

It would be a bit cramped here, but it was far better than wearing themselves thin staying on the run, or dead on the battlefield. Though he’d never willingly admit it, he was beyond grateful to be out of that damn car, his stiff legs still protesting every little movement. 

They’d need to take shifts throughout the night. Bruce had no plans to leave his post or drop his guard anytime soon, but he could admit to himself that he wasn’t running at full capacity. He could use a second pair of eyes tonight. Not to mention he still needed to take stock of what supplies they had left, and gauge whether or not it was safe enough to make the drive into town to pick up more food or water or tools.

Bruce knew how to remain unseen, blend into a crowd and slip in and out unnoticed, but the idea of leaving the cabin for even a few minutes sent a rush of alarm shooting down his spine. 

Then again, sending someone else would mean one of them would be alone and defenseless, and Bruce wouldn’t be able to have eyes on a member of his team. They could be followed or hurt or captured, and Bruce would have no idea. 

He could send Barry, he’d be in and out in the blink of an eye and nobody would even notice, but that would mean using his powers, running the risk of being tracked down, and they couldn’t take that chance either. 

Which meant they’d need to hold off on making the trip for now, and hope they had enough supplies for all of them. Bruce always kept his safehouses stocked, always prepared for the worst, but he only ever planned on one person using them at a time. Two at most, if he and Dick managed to get caught up in something together. 

There were countless other things to worry about, whirling around his scattered mind like a torn up checklist. He should make another round of the house, double and triple check his security, maybe even scan the surrounding woods again just to make sure they weren’t being watched. After that, he still needed to–

“Batman?” 

Bruce blinked, careful not to make it too obvious that he’d completely lost track of the conversation. They were all staring at him, expectant and a little concerned, and Bruce ignored the frustration threatening to rise up in his chest. He’d usually never let himself zone out like this, and he felt a spark of panic flicker to life in his chest. He couldn’t afford to be off his game, not when the situation was so dire. Not when he had so many people relying on him. 

“There’s two beds,” he explained, taking a wild guess as to what they were asking him.  He had the odd sensation that he was floating, his voice far away to his own ears. God, he was so tired. “One in the bedroom down the hall, one in the loft upstairs. You can all work out who’s getting the couch. I’ll keep watch for the first few hours, but after that I need you to start taking shifts so I can handle some work around the house. I’ll need at least one of you to help me go over–” 

“Batman,” Clark said again, more forceful this time, and he almost looked surprised when Bruce snapped his mouth shut. He didn’t have the energy to try to talk over Superman right now. “You’re sleeping first. We can handle the rest.” 

Bruce hoped the way his panic skyrocketed wasn’t as obvious as it felt, silently grateful he still hadn’t removed his cowl. Not that it would do anything to deter the alien who could hear his heartbeat from across an ocean. “No.” 

“You need to sleep,” Diana said, the princess leaned far too casually against the kitchen counter, like she didn’t expect this to turn into much of a debate. “We can handle whatever it is that needs to be done, go on and get some rest.” 

“You all need to sleep more than I do,” Bruce argued. He was the one who was used to pulling all-nighters, running himself into the ground, being pushed forward by nothing but fear and spite. “I have work to do.” 

“What work?” Clark asked. His voice was soft, treading carefully, and Bruce was quickly becoming sick of being treated like a cornered animal. His skin was crawling, but snapping and creating an unnecessary argument was the last thing any of them needed. “Checking inventory and keeping watch? Any of us can handle that, it doesn’t have to be you.” 

“It’s my safehouse.” 

“This isn’t our first rodeo, Bats.” Hal was smirking at him from across the room, but his smile didn’t reach his eyes, shoulders held far too tense for his nonchalance to be genuine. “Seriously, man. We got this, go lay down. You look like shit.” 

“I’m fine.” 

“You are not fine,” Diana said, voice tilting towards something that teetered dangerously between affectionate and authoritative. “All of us managed to sleep in the car, and I know you. You didn’t get a chance to sleep before any of this started, did you?” 

And Bruce… didn’t have an argument for that. Because she was right. Just before the League had called him in to deal with what turned into an endless week of dodging extraterrestrial attack after extraterrestrial attack, he’d been trapped in a game of cat and mouse with Joker, keeping him on his toes for two nights in a row before he finally sent the clown back to his Arkham cell. 

He’d managed to snag maybe an hour and a half after that, dumping himself unceremoniously on the couch in the early afternoon sun before Alfred shook him awake to inform him of Superman's distress call.  

But that was his job. He was supposed to be able to handle this. 

And he could, he was fine. They’d stay here a day or so, two or three at the most, and Bruce would keep himself occupied watching the treeline and working on a way to understand their new enemies and locate a weakness. 

It would be over soon enough, and then he could go home and… and maybe try to find time for a nap. Maybe. He was sure he could spare a couple of hours at most before his next patrol.  

“I’m fine,” he said again, but it sounded weak, his strength fading. The exhaustion was finally catching up to him now that attention was being called to his less than ideal sleep schedule, weighing him down, every little movement making his chest ache. The pressure behind his eyes was building, his throat tight, and Bruce quickly bit back the helpless frustration.

 He was supposed to be able to handle this. How was he supposed to keep his team safe if he couldn’t even handle a little fatigue? 

But they were all still looking at him, unrelenting, and Bruce knew he wasn’t going to get off that easy. He took a steadying breath, blinking a few times to clear his tilting vision. “I can’t… I can’t risk it. You’re not used to this like I am, you all need to sleep. We don’t have time to argue like this.” 

“Nobody here is sleeping until you do,” Flash said, and Bruce’s heart sank. “If you’re staying up so are we.” 

“That’s not fair.” 

“And it’s not fair for you to stay up and do all the work,” Diana said. “You already drove us here, we wouldn’t have a safe place to go if it was not for you. You’ve done enough today. Please. Before you collapse.” 

Bruce wanted to argue, wanted to point out every little danger, everything that could possibly go wrong, everything that he needed to stay awake to prevent. He wanted to throw every worst case scenario in Wonder Woman’s face, the probability of them being attacked while Batman was asleep and unable to help, until she relented and let him get back to work. 

He wanted to fight, because the idea of letting himself be defenseless in a house full of people with danger looming in every corner, the next attack inevitable, made his vision hazy with a new wave of uncontrollable fear. 

But he was so tired. He couldn’t find it in himself to even open his mouth again, his entire body lethargic and slow. 

There was a hand on his shoulder, gently gripping the heavy material of his suit. Bruce flinched before he could stop himself, shoulders hunching under the other’s stares, blinking as he registered Superman now standing at his side, refusing to pull his hand away. Bruce found himself silently grateful for the steadying warmth. 

“Hey,” he said, achingly soft as he gestured to the door at the end of the hall. “Come into the bedroom with me for a second, okay?” 

Bruce averted his gaze, staring stubbornly at the wall. “You can’t order me to sleep.” 

“I’m not ordering you to do anything.” Clark’s grounding touch was somehow making Bruce feel more weightless, but he couldn’t bring himself to shove him away. “I’m asking you to come sit down with me.” 

He’d like to think that if he was more awake, if his head was clearer, he would have refused, twisted out of Superman’s hold and stalked out the door until everyone gave up and just left him alone. 

But he’d never been able to deny Clark Kent anything, had he? 

He grumbled a barely audible “Fine,” adamantly not looking at any of them as he pushed his way past Superman, making his way down the hall and into the small bedroom as quickly as he could. 

Clark was right behind him, gently shutting the bedroom door as Bruce hovered in the middle of the room, glowering at the double bed up against the wall like it had personally offended him, like it was laced with traps or poison. 

Which was stupid. It was his bed. 

Clark didn’t say anything for the moment, carefully crossing the room to put a gentle hand on the small of Bruce’s back, never forceful or unwanted, guiding Batman towards the edge of the bed like he was trying to coax a wild animal into a crate. 

“Clark,” Bruce tried, hating the way his voice broke. “I can’t—

“Just for a minute,” Superman said, and Bruce didn’t fight when he was eased down onto the mattress. “You look like you’re about to fall over.” 

“I’m fine,” he insisted, even as his vision tunneled the second he made contact with the bed, the longing to lay down and close his eyes forever nearly overwhelming. “I can’t… Clark, I have to keep watch. We don’t know if we’re safe here.” 

“We’re as safe as we can be for now,” Clark said. “And the rest of us can handle it. We’re a team, B. It doesn’t always have to be you.” 

“Something could happen.” Bruce’s heart was racing, breathing coming too fast as every possible outcome flooded his mind, every bloodstain and cry of pain and gunshot he’d be too slow to save them from. He knew Clark could hear it, the wild racing in his chest, knew he was honed onto Batman’s rising panic, but there was nothing he could do to stop it. “While I’m asleep they… something could–” 

“Then we’ll wake you up,” Superman said, steady as ever. Bruce never would have let himself fall apart like this in front of anyone else. “I think we’ll be alright for the night, Bruce. But if we’re not, you can’t help us if you’re dead on your feet. We need you sharp.”  

Bruce closed his eyes and let out a shuddering breath, feeling almost childish, small and vulnerable. “I know.” 

“Then you need to rest,” Clark said. “Let me help you, Bruce. Please.” 

Bruce didn’t agree, not out loud anyway, but he didn’t stop Clark’s hands from slowly removing Batman’s cape, gloves, and boots, carefully undoing the belt and chest piece, his movements gentle and steady like he was handling a delicate piece of glass. Bruce’s face burned, shame and frustration waging war in his sluggish mind, but he just clenched his jaw and refused to look up from the floor, well aware his own hands were far too shaky to undo his suit right now. 

It was only when Clark moved to pull off the cowl that Bruce jerked back, gripping Clark’s wrist before he even registered he was moving. 

“No,” he growled, tugging protectively at his mask, his hold trembling and weak. “No, I… someone- someone could–”

“I understand,” Superman said, and Bruce dropped his hand. It was terrifying sometimes, just how much he trusted Clark. “You can keep it on, that’s alright. Just lay down for me, okay?” 

He didn’t have the energy to protest anymore, even as that frantic voice in the back of his head screamed at him to get up, get up, don’t you dare drop your guard for a second. You’ll get them all killed. You’ll lose someone again. 

“There you go,” Clark said, and Bruce definitely would have had something to say about his coddling if he had the strength. “I’ll keep an eye on things, I promise. Nothing’s going to happen, you can rest.” 

Bruce hummed, lips pressed into a tight line as he was eased back against the blessedly soft pillows, a thin blanket draped over the remaining armor on his chest. “Ten minutes. Then wake me up.” 

He felt more than saw Clark hesitate, his vision more than a little hazy now. “Bruce, you need at least a few hours.” 

“Ten minutes.” 

“Give yourself three hours,” Clark said. “I promise you'll feel better if you do.” 

“I can’t be gone that long,” Bruce argued. Then, because Superman clearly wasn’t going to budge, “Twenty minutes.” 

“Batman–” 

“I’ve survived off less.” 

“But you shouldn’t have to.” Clark sighed, visibly composing himself, and Bruce fought to keep his eyes open. “You have a team of people watching your back now, and we can look after ourselves. Nothing bad is going to happen, Bruce. We’ve got you.” 

Clark didn’t get it. He didn’t understand that Bruce couldn’t. He couldn’t let go like everyone else, couldn’t drop his guard for a second, couldn’t be stupid enough to let himself rest when so much was at stake.

One wrong move would get someone killed. Just a second of hesitation could rip his world apart. Letting himself rest could mean he loses everything all over again. Someone could sneak in, get past their defenses, and incapacitate the rest of the League while Bruce was helpless- useless. Someone could hurt him in his sleep again- 

“Bruce,” Clark said, in that horribly soft, understanding tone that Bruce always selfishly wanted to bask in, as if someone like him deserved that kind of comfort. “Just a few hours, okay?” 

“Clark, I can't.” But he was so tired. Maybe… maybe it would be okay. Just this once. “I… half an hour.” 

“Two hours.” 

“Clark–” 

“Two hours,” Superman repeated, but it sounded more like a plea than an order. “That’s all I’m asking.” 

Two hours. So much could happen in two hours. “One hour.” 

“Bruce–”

“One hour,” he snapped, surprised that he still had the strength, even as the force of his own words made him dizzy with exhaustion. “Please.” 

He couldn’t handle more than that. He couldn’t–

“Alright,” Clark agreed, still sounding painfully hesitant, but Bruce let out a trembling breath of relief. “One hour. But you have to close your eyes and relax.” 

“I know how sleeping works.” It would have been more effective if his words didn’t come out heavy and slurred, eyes already drooping shut despite his best efforts to level Clark with a glare. 

Clark rolled his eyes, but there was a smile tugging at his lips. “Sometimes I’m not sure you do.” 

He didn’t give Bruce the chance to respond, not that he could have formed a coherent sentence if he tried. He heard Clark stand, Superman keeping his movements intentionally loud so Bruce would be able to track them, and he adamantly ignored the flutter in his chest at the patience he was being shown. Most people wouldn’t have bothered. Clark turned off the small lamp in the corner, shrouding the room in darkness as the moon rose outside, and slipped into the hallway, quietly shutting the door behind him. 

-

Bruce could count the number of times he’d woken up slowly on one hand. He was sure there were more when he was younger, simpler times when he was safe and unafraid that he could hardly remember anymore. 

But ever since that gunshot in the alleyway, waking up was something that came suddenly, bringing a wave of panic and adrenaline when he gasped awake, distant screams from whatever nightmare that had been plaguing him following him into the conscious world before everything swam back into focus, plunging him right back into a familiar state of racing paranoia and uneasiness. 

Today was no different. 

He’d dreamt of the League, of a losing battle, of the stench of blood and the faces of dying friends. He’d dreamt of being useless, weak, trapped on the sidelines, forced to watch his team fall. He’d dreamt of his safehouse soaked in blood, trashed and demolished from the attack they hadn’t been ready for. 

It was a dream he’d had countless times before, just another nightmare he’d added to the list after the Justice League had become something important to him. 

The only difference this time was that Bruce didn’t wake up in his own bed. Or anywhere in the manor, for that matter. 

He jolted upright, tangled in unfamiliar blankets, heart beating so hard in his chest it was painful, gasping for air as he fought to piece reality back together, the nightmare still seared into his mind, lingering screams drowning out his own ragged breathing. 

He was in his safehouse. He recognized it, gradually, the dark wood floors, the bare walls, the tan comforter strewn across the bed, the flimsy curtains parted just enough to let the first rays of the dawn’s light seep into the room. 

Bruce froze, breath catching in his throat. 

It was dawn. The sun had just barely set when he’d closed his eyes. They hadn’t woken him up. Nobody had woken him up. 

What if there was no one left to wake him? 

He was out of bed in the blink of an eye, the room spinning dangerously the second he was on his feet, body still fighting to adjust to the waking world. He’d slept through the night. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been allowed to do that. 

The house was empty. The house was covered in blood. He’d slept through the battle. There was no one left to scream for him. 

He grabbed for what the armor he’d allowed to be removed, suiting up in record time despite his shaky hands and tunneling vision, foregoing the gauntlets and utility belt as he yanked on his gloves and fastened the weighted cape over his shoulders, already running for the door in a panic. 

There wasn’t time. There wasn’t time, everyone was dead and he needed to… he needed to assess the damage, save who he could, and find a way to protect himself. He’d have to run. He’d have to be on the run alone again, lost in guilt and grief with nothing to pull him out again, and he couldn’t–

Batman practically crashed into the adjacent wall as he flung the door open and burst into the hallway, shaking so badly he almost couldn’t get a proper grip on the door handle. His legs were unsteady, nearly sending him tripping over his own boots as he stumbled into the main room, eyes watering at the overwhelming stench of blood–

All eyes turned to him when he screeched to a halt in the doorway. 

There was no blood, no broken dying faces, no sign of a struggle. The team was staring at him, all of them awake and alert, albeit a little confused. Clark and Diana were at the dining room table, Barry and Arthur were on the couch, and Hal was slumped across the armchair in the corner, clearly having been woken up from his doze by Batman’s uncoordinated entrance. 

Bruce froze in his tracks, reality fighting to make itself known, his panicked mind still clutching to the images of the nightmare, his blood like ice in his veins. 

“B?” Superman called, brow furrowed in concern, exchanging a worried glance with Wonder Woman. “Are you okay?” 

Bruce blinked, scanning each of their faces in frozen silence, fighting to convince himself that this was real, that they were alive, that he hadn’t been too late to save anyone. 

But there was sunlight shining through the kitchen window, it was morning, and he was supposed to be back hours ago–

“What happened?” he demanded, voice rough and far too quiet, turning back to Clark almost frantically. “What… what’s going on?” 

They were all still staring at him, unmoving, like their lives weren’t in danger, like Bruce hadn’t been too late to protect them. Clark just blinked at him, shifting slightly under Batman’s stare. “Wh-? Nothing happened, Bruce. What’s wrong?” 

“You didn’t wake me up.” It was the only thing he could manage for a moment, throat unbearably tight. “You said you’d wake me up in an hour.” 

Clark blinked, but something in his eyes softened. “Bruce–” 

“You said you’d wake me up,” Bruce repeated, swallowing thickly when his voice shook. He couldn’t lose his composure like this, couldn’t showcase his fear so plainly. Not in front of the team. “You… you didn’t wake me up, I thought- I thought something happened.” 

“Everything’s alright,” Diana spoke up, her expression unbearably soft as she watched him from the table. “Everyone’s safe- we’re all safe. We only thought it would be good for you to sleep through the night.” 

Sleep through the night. He’d been asleep all night. 

“You said one hour,” Bruce practically snarled, his eyes only for Superman. “You said one hour.” 

Clark’s face shifted into something that perfectly resembled a kicked puppy, and if Bruce wasn’t spiraling so violently he might have felt guilty for snapping. “B–” 

“One hour wasn’t gonna do shit,” Hal piped up, clearly still groggy from being startled awake so suddenly. “You were barely standing, and we would like to have you lucid enough to get us out of this mess. And god knows you’re too stubborn to sleep normally on your own. So yeah, we let you sleep through the night. You’re welcome.” 

Bruce only heard about half of what Hal was saying, breath catching in his throat when he turned to Green Lantern, ice cold dread flooding his lungs. 

All he could see was blood. The living room was coated in it, splattered across the walls, the floors, bodies strewn across the cabin. All he could see were Hal’s lifeless eyes, the wound in his chest, the battle he’d slept through–

“Spooky? You with us?” 

He couldn’t latch onto Hal’s voice, reality slipping through his fingers, the world coming apart by the seams only to be replaced with the nightmare he couldn’t shake, not when the panic was fueling his worst fears, the putrid stench of blood making his eyes water behind the cowl. 

He backed into the hallway before he retched, a hand clamped over his mouth, stumbling to the bathroom before slamming the door shut behind him and dropping to his knees in front of the toilet. 

He hadn’t eaten in days, Bruce recalled suddenly, and there was nothing in his stomach to throw up. It didn’t make the dry heaving stop, didn’t make his throat burn any less as he hunched over the toilet bowl, gripping the porcelain with trembling hands, gasping for breath around the sickening panic. 

It felt like an eternity before he stopped, slumping in an exhausted, breathless heap, chest still unbearably tight, head fuzzy with confusion and fear. He was dimly aware of the commotion outside, the knocking on the door, diligently ignoring it as it faded to a background hum, drowned out by his own heartbeat and labored breathing. 

Bruce scooted backwards, legs far too unsteady to support his weight, and found himself pressed into the bathroom corner, his back against the wall and his knees pulled up to his chest. His hands found the ears of the cowl, yanking the mask off so hard a few hairs were pulled along with it. 

Everyone was dying, everyone was dead, and he hadn’t been able to save them because he’d fallen asleep. 

He’d been asleep for hours, alone and vulnerable and defenseless all night, where anyone could have walked in, someone could have–

“Bruce, hey. Breathe, just breathe. Deep breaths, you’re alright.” 

He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t catch his breath, shaking and gasping in a pathetic pile on the bathroom floor, choking on the smell of blood. Hands flew to his hair, dark strands a tangled mess after being under the cowl for so long, yanking hard enough to make his eyes water.

“Hey, careful.” There were hands on his wrists, gentle but firm, coaxing his fingers away from his hair. “None of that. You need to breathe, B. Come on, look at me. Copy my breathing, Bruce.” 

Bruce blinked in the direction of the voice, pressing himself further back against the wall. Superman was crouched in front of him (In a puddle of blood, his chest caved in with Kryptonite. Unmoving. Dead) his hands warm against Bruce’s skin, eyes brimming with concern and confusion. 

“Clark,” he choked out, the sound nearly lost to his own hyperventilating. “I was- I was too slow, I was too slow to help, I–” 

“Nothing happened, B,” Clark said, dangerously close to feeling real. “You fell asleep, and the rest of us took shifts throughout the night. Everything was quiet. We would have woken you up if it wasn’t.” 

“You were supposed to wake me up,” Bruce snapped in between gasps, but there was no room for anger anymore, his voice nothing more than desperate wheezes. “Everyone- everyone died because I wasn’t there. You’re dead and I couldn’t help, I- I slept through it–” 

“Bruce–”

“I don’t know what they did. I don’t… I don’t know what they did to me I don’t know who… I... I was asleep, I don’t–” 

“Bruce.” Clark's hands were torn away from his wrists, only for the warmth to be replaced a second later on his face, that indestructible steel grip now carefully cradling his face finally free from the confines of the cowl. “I’m alive, I’m okay. Everyone’s safe, Bruce. They’re all just in the other room, they have been all night. J’onn is meeting us as soon as it’s safe. I think… I think you just had a nightmare, B. I think you’re confused.”

Bruce squeezed his eyes shut against the phantom screams lingering in his ears, the stench of blood he knew wasn’t there, the image of his teammate’s lifeless eyes, of the grief he couldn’t bare to live through again. 

“You didn’t wake me up,” Bruce said again, for what felt like the hundredth time. “I thought… I thought it was real. I thought you were gone and there wasn’t… there wasn’t anyone left to wake me up.” 

“I’m so sorry,” Clark said, barely a whisper, and he sounded like he meant it. “We just… I just thought you needed more rest. We were keeping watch and one hour didn’t seem like enough to–” 

“It’s not,” Bruce said, focusing on his shaky breathing, forcing himself to copy the Kryptonian’s steady breaths. “I know it's not. I’m not stubborn just for the hell of it, Clark. I can’t sleep.” 

This was real. Superman was alive- the team was alive. There was no blood, no death, no lost battle. He’d slept through the night for the first time in years, undisturbed, and everyone had made it to tomorrow.  

“The world isn’t going to end if you let yourself rest,” Superman said. “You can’t be expected to watch everything all the time, especially when you have people who want to help. That’s not fair to you.” 

“I can’t risk it.” The fading panic had apparently loosened his tongue, the words leaving his mouth before he could think about them. “Something always happens when I close my eyes. Someone… someone always needs me.” 

Clark was silent for a moment, two superheroes still crouched in a heap on the tiny bathroom floor, practically on top of each other, and Bruce belatedly realized Superman's hands had never left their position cradling Batman's face. He didn’t make a move to pull away. 

“I know how you feel,” he said softly, and Bruce didn’t doubt that. “I promise, I do. But you can rest, B. Nothing happened last night. No one was hurt, no one was in danger. We just needed you to sleep.” 

Bruce hesitated, one hand wrapped around himself, the other fiddling absently with the material of Clark’s suit. “I know. I do, it just... I always have nightmares when I sleep. I always think they’re real.” 

“We’ll work on something to help with that,” Clark said, eyes softening when Bruce scoffed. “There’s always something, and I promise I’ll help you find it. You deserve a proper night’s sleep.” 

It was a hopeless idea, as nice as it was to imagine, even just for a moment. Bruce hadn’t slept properly since he was eight, since he’d had everything ripped away from him in that alleyway. Even before that, he’d always had a hard time falling asleep, always restless, always plagued by an overactive imagination.  

“And for the record,” Clark added before Bruce could voice his doubts, one hand moving to gently tilt Batman’s chin up. “Nothing will ever happen to you in your sleep. Not ever. I swear on my life, I won’t let anyone even get close.” 

Bruce blinked, chest heavy, struggling to comprehend the meaning behind the words, the weight that promise held. 

Because he knew Clark meant it. Superman had his heartbeat memorized, a secret he’d sheepishly admitted months ago, Batman’s life a noise he could pick out from a crowd thousands of miles away. 

If Bruce’s breath so much as hitched, if there was an intruder or an unwelcome guest, Clark would know. Nobody was going to get to him, as long as Bruce allowed him to listen. As long as he trusted him enough to believe he would. 

“Thank you,” Bruce forced himself to say instead of the million other things he couldn’t find the words for. “I’ll… work on it.” 

“I know you’re scared,” Clark said, and Bruce quickly pushed down the defiant protests already rising up in his throat. “I’m not asking you to change overnight, B. But you don’t have to be dead on your feet all the time. You can trust us to look after you.”

Bruce just nodded, dropping his hand to pull the discarded cowl closer to him, not yet making a move to put it back on. “I still have work to do. And I want to keep watch this afternoon.” 

Clark watched him closely for a moment, almost like he was studying him, picking apart the look in his eyes. He must not have minded what he found, because he smiled softly as his shoulders relaxed, just a little, slowly pulling his hands away from Bruce’s face. 

“Breakfast first,” he declared, not quite an order, but not something that left room for argument either. “The kitchen's stocked, we've got enough food for a while. I was planning on pancakes, if you want to help.” 

Bruce moved to stand, still unsteady on his feet, face still stinging with dried tears, his body violently protesting the sudden movement. He didn’t shove Clark’s hand away when he quickly moved to help, steadying him without a word. “Alfred’s had me banned from the kitchen since I was sixteen.” 

Clark barked a laugh, warm and grounding. Real and alive. “How about you just brew a fresh pot of coffee, then?” 

His hands hadn’t quite stopped shaking, the anxiety still settled deep in his gut, but it was manageable now. He knew it would fade by the time they all sat down to eat together, when he could really see for himself that they were all alive and well for the time being. 

“Alright,” he agreed, letting Clark lead him back to the main room. “Coffee first."

#batman #dc #dc comics #bruce wayne #superman #clark kent #angst #diana prince #wonder woman #j'onn j'onzz #martian manhunter #hal jordan #green lantern #barry allen #flash #superbat #superbat fic #writing #fanfiction

[witchywomanrunningupthathill]

Hello and welcome to the Witchy Woman's Library! I write mostly for Harry Potter (Marauders Era), but will probably be branching out more in the near future.

Take your time and browse around! - Iz

Regulus Black

Strangers

Read Me

Veritaserum

Of Quidditch Cups and Crystal Caves

Nights Like These (Room 11)

Borgin & Burkes

Grim, Old Place

Prelude to a Pounding

Blurb #1

Prince Hal/Henry V

Burn the Witch

Presume Not That I Am the Thing I Was

Paul Atreides

Will You Hold Me?

Dreams (series)

My ask box is always open, so feel free to come chat :)

#iz writes #harry potter fanfiction #marauders fanfiction #the king 2019 #the king netflix #dune fanfiction #masterlist #regulus black x reader #prince hal x reader #paul atreides x reader

[mandatory-blog-stop-asking]

Hi, this is an experimental post to see how far this can go on a blog with no follows.

Title: Trust

Summary: Batman and Alfred arrange a dinner for the Justice League so that everyone can reveal their secret identities to one another.

Warnings: Some swearing.

If you like it, drop me a comment saying you came from tumblr! Genuinely curious about whether or not this will even reach anyone.

#dc comics #fanfiction #ao3 fanfic #batman #alfred pennyworth #superman #diana prince #wonder woman #green lantern #hal jordan #barry allen #the flash #j'onn j'onzz #martian manhunter #justice league #fanfic #archive of our own #arthur curry #aquaman

[smolvenger]

The Tavern Prince (Prince Hal x fem! Y/N Oneshot)

Summary: You are shocked and unhappy to find out you are betrothed to notorious rake, Prince Hal. But one evening, he sneaks you into the Boar's Head Tavern...and your mind about him starts to change.

Warnings: Smut at the end!! 18+ NSFW! (thigh riding, fingering, loss of virginity, dirty talk, good ol' p in v). Reader is super Proper and Prim and has a stick up her butt just because I wanted her to in this fic for the drama and tension of paring her with Hal (and I'm sick of Pick Me Girls in Historic Fiction. So Much) Mentions of sex and cheating (but no actual cheating, our boy would never. Trust me, I'm a Shakespeare expert). Not believable, but we're running on vibes, not accuracy so forget that couples were chaperoned or whatever. References to Shakespeare's plays and words (like "Die"= slang for orgasm and "wag"= boy).

Word Count: 9K (get some water, besties, and whores)

Taglist: @huntress-artemiss @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @evelyn-kingsley@jennyggggrrr@five-miles-over @fictive-sl0th@ladycamillewrites@villainousshakespeare@holdmytesseract (smut starts at "sweetest of ladies" and ends at "Hal...I have no words.." btw bestie for your comfort) @eleniblue@twhxhck@lokisgoodgirl@lovelysizzlingbluebird@raqnarokr@holymultiplefandomsbatman@michelleleewise@wolfsmom1@cheekyscamp@mochie85@muddyorbsblr

“Y/N, we have something very exciting to announce. The king has given his consent. You are going to marry the prince…” your father announced to you at the table. Your mother nodded her head beside him. 

You let a smile spread across your face. You were so thrilled you held your breath for a second. This was an honor beyond anything you could comprehend of what he would say. How many would want that honor? What woman didn’t want to be a princess? There were many princes in the world, but it had to be one of the English princes. They couldn’t mean some other country. The English king had four sons- which one was your groom? Likely not the youngest two- Humphrey and Thomas. They were boys, far too young for marriage. 

That meant- the second eldest son! You interrupted in your excitement.

“Oh! I am to marry John of Lancaster! Oh, mother-father! How wonderful! He’s the sweetest youth- and he is always at each meeting with his father, the king! Oh, what a good husband he will be! I am so hap-”

“Y/N, I believe you misunderstood us,” your mother cut in. 

You froze, blinking quickly.

“What do you mean?” you asked. “I’m not marrying a prince?”

“No, you are…” replied your mother.

If not Humphrey, if not Thomas, if not John…that left one English prince.  

They smiled and took your hands across the table. 

“The one who matters. The one who will make you one day queen of England through your union…”

Oh no, you thought, God’s blood, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, please, please oh Lord Above- please not him please not-

“You betrothed to his grace, the Prince of Wales, Henry Lancaster…”

It felt like a punch. You blinked, and your voice got smaller.

“You mean…Prince Harry?”  you asked.

“Oh, yes, dear girl! Our daughter- Princess of Wales and then Queen of England!” your mother cooed. She went up and hugged you. Not that she could see the frown growing on your face.

Your father kissed your forehead. You put on a small smile. A practice one when they were looking. You swallowed it back. 

You should have been thrilled to find out you were marrying the prince of Wales, the heir to England, to Bolingbroke, to the Lancasters. Your rational mind knew it was a huge honor.

But married to Prince Harry- no, Hal! That was what his vile friends all called him! Seems fit you should think of him as such!

Hal, the rake. The riotous son. The dishonorable son. The one with a dozen prostitutes at his heels! He even wore a glove from one to a joust once!  The rebel. The drunk. The prankster. The scoundrel. The son his father wished could be swapped for another- everyone knew that. The reason why John of Lancaster was always in court? Because Hal was so little seen in the castle and at events and never appeared! Shirking his responsibilities to hang around bars! With seedy thieves and criminals and who knows what else!

You were not strangers. You had spoken with him the few times he had been in court. Your parents were good friends and old allies of Henry Bolingbroke before the chaotic events that crowned him.  The few banquets Hal appeared, you were there. He only appeared at that ball a few days ago. You did have a dance with him. He spoke some, no more than polite subjects and small talk. But he seemed bored. Perhaps his father was breathing down his neck not to sneak out. 

This was to be your husband?!! And this was to be the king?! The one not even his own father could be proud of?!  Bound to until only Death did you Part!?

When you went to your private quarters, and no one was around, you went to your bed and screamed into your pillow. 

You could already see your married life. Picture it in your head. Princess Y/N and Prince Hal, soon King Hal and Queen Y/N. The banquets would be a mess. Late into the night, there would be crowds of dirty, smelly people. Laughing with food still in their mouths and spitting and pissing all over the banquet halls. There would be thieves trying to reach to grab the jewels on you. Or try to grope you, only there would be no protection. So many drunkards vomiting all over the pretty stone hallways and throwing rocks through the tall windows. 

Your waking vision of your future spiraled further in your head. You knew you would have separate quarters. You would have to go alone- you knew your husband's bed would have one if not two if not four ladies of the night to pleasure him until dawn. Or he would go into your room, bold and drunk with liquor and lust. He had the right to barge in when he wanted now. 

It made you want to cry.  

Three days later, there was a celebratory dinner at the castle for the betrothal announcement. All of you sat down. You were decked in a dark green dress and some jewelry given to you. To make you seem more regal. Not that it made you feel that way. You sat with your family, the King of England wrapped in his dark furs. The three younger Lancaster brothers all looked at you with small smiles- perhaps looking forward to having a sister-in-law. There was just one very crucial seat next to you left empty.

Of course, once the wine was poured and dishes were just set, in strode in, red leather jacket, hat, and all, none other than your intended.

You hated that he was the most beautiful man you had ever laid eyes on. An ivory face with tall cheekbones, a high forehead, and blue eyes. Tall and lean. He waltzed in with a slight smirk. His arms dangling back and forth so casually. A slight smile on his face.

“I apologize, I am late, I know!” he announced.

The king stood up, his hands over his thick, dark robe on his hips. Following him, everyone else rose up 

“Harry-where have you been?! We were just about to dine at your betrothal dinner!” he chided.

“Only getting ready, father! I wanted to be more presentable-” he insisted, still standing.

“You will be punctual in the future, especially to show respect to your bride!” the king added on, gesturing to where you sat.

You only looked down at your plate. Bride, bride, bride. Once you thought of the word like a dream, like the word “fairy.” Something light and lilting- surreal and beautiful. Something you could attain too. But it only made your stomach curl.

 You could feel Hal’s eyes, already on you. Then he walked forward and pulled out the chair next to you.

As the king sat down, all sat down. 

Everyone began to eat. You barely could look at Hal. When you did, you found his eyes would drift up to see you. Then at once, you pulled yours down. Then your mother boasted of you.

“Our daughter- she was raised in a convent as any lady should be. The nuns all praised her as a good student- so quiet, ladylike, and diligent in her studies. She is learning all the dances done at parties. Oh- and her needlework is wonderful!”

You stood up, nodding.

“Yes! I sewed on little strawberries on my handkerchief! And I am making some new needlework of a pink rose, like the ones in the springtime-”

Your voice cut you off. Aware you were gushing so much. It wasn’t just the fact that the king watched. He was so used to his sons that a younger female presence was fascinating. King Henry the Fourth himself looked at you with a smile and soft eyes.

No- because Hal was listening and watching. you swallowed and looked next to you. Hal’s face was neutral. He leaned on the table, a mouth over his lip, scratching his chin. You saw him swallow a little and then look back down at his meal.

He didn’t like you. Didn’t even like you, you knew it. He was already thinking of how boring you were! You did have a cousin named Beatrice. She was the one who was climbing trees, and talking saucily to everyone and rebelling and speaking and laughing wildly. If only she wasn’t married by now! Then your family would throw her Hal’s way and they would be happy! If he had to marry at all, it should be someone like her! Not like…not like…not like you…He wouldn’t like you, either. You were sure. Calling you boring just because you prioritized manners and decency. Laughing at your sewing and the dresses you cherished so much. 

“Oh, I am sure they are quite pretty, Y/N. And what think you, Harry?” the king asked.

Hal perked up.

“They…they should be.” he replied. 

Copying what his father said .Of course.  He took another bite and then he put a hand over his mouth again.

“Now- we must set a date for these children. What dates shall you say?” the king asked.

You and Hal shared a look and then perked up.

“We want enough time to prepare a decent wedding, of course. And to prepare them. Yet…the new Lancaster family must be secured through another heir, we know…” your father replied.

You could have thrown up the wine in your stomach. You looked down, not daring to see the look on Hal’s face. 

“I agree. And my son must settle- therefore, I say two months from now shall give us enough time,” the king confirmed.

Two months?! It seemed so short. Not even time to come around to it. 

You always wanted romance. To be wooed and won and courted. You dreamed of the day love would finally shine in some man’s eyes as he fell to his knees and begged for your heart and hand. Not thrown away to a scoundrel who didn’t like you.

“Now- don’t you be so worried, dear daughter,” the king consoled.

You looked up, and you saw him smile kindly at you.

“I remember the days I was nervous about my nuptials, too. Do not be afraid, lady Y/N- you will leave your family, but you will have a new one. Think of me more of a father here than king. You shall have me and three brothers who will look after you and be sure you want for nothing, my dear. And therefore…”

His eyes shot to Hal.

“If this rapscallion does anything to you before the marriage- hurts you. Breaks your heart-anything. You shall come to me and ask to end the betrothal, and you will have my blessing.”

Hal’s jaw dropped.

You gave the king a smile, a genuine one.

“Thank you, your grace.”

You went back down to your food, eating with more of a flourish. Hal then turned to you. It was the first few words he spoke directly to you that night. You braced for a bawdy joke about your wedding night from him, but there was none.

“We do have confits, here, my lady- would you like to try some?” he asked.

He offered you a golden bowl full of little sweets. They were tiny white spheres. He pressed the bowl your way as you peeked in.

“I’ve never had any,” you remarked.

“They are well, after dinner.“Here- try some,” he said,

You popped one in your mouth. And let out a sound of appreciation. They were very light and sweet, you nodded your head.

“Hm- very nice. And they are…sweet, my lord,” you commented.

You took another one as the servants arrived to clear your plates.

The next day was a formal announcement. It would be put on the doors of every church. And all of the court was gathered to watch with their rich cloaks and jewels glinting in the sun. 

In Hal stumbled. How pale he looked- no doubt still hungover. He looked at you and he stopped. Then he stepped forward. You felt as if it was a wedding ceremony already and it made lightning 

“We hereby announce an engagement- his majesty, Henry of Lancaster and the Lady Y/N will be married in two months time. Though they are already married in our eyes- we shall congratulate them on their union and the nuptials to follow,” announced the king to applause.

He turned to you both. He gave his son strict instructions, his eyes stern.

“Now Harry- kiss her and call her your princess,” ordered the king.

Hal looked down on you. He licked his lips, looking down at yours. Dear lord- was he about to kiss you before everyone! You instintually jerked a little away. He froze. Hesitated. He lowered his mouth and then set it tight shut again. Then your intended whispered in your ear.

“The cheek?”

You paused. It didn’t sound as bad as the lips.

“Yes,” you answered. 

He gave you a chaste kiss on the cheek with it seemed half of England to witness. 

This is began. Four long weeks of learning everything one had to know of being a princess. Learning French to converse with ambassadors, the history of the throne, the order of the servants, current matters, in addition to etiquette (which you took to very well) and so many things your head spun. Numerous formal public events where you had to stand by Hal and pretend you were a smiling, happy bride. Swallowing back what you really thought of him.

 Only talking to him when required. 

You didn’t doubt tha the didn’t like you.

No doubt he wishes he was off in Esatcheap, you thought. He doesn't even tolerate me.

All of your life, you did what you were told. It kept the peace. You never asked for much- just to be safe and content. Hopefully one day, maybe one day, fall in love with some nice gentleman and  marry him. A nice, peaceful, happy life. But instead- you had him?! Why couldn’t it be John instead? Or some foreign prince! One who didn’t get drunk constantly!

One day, you had time to yourself. You sat there with your embroidery, putting the pink thread in and out of the white cloth. Glad it could relieve the stress of your mind. In walked Hal, he was a member of the family now and was welcome in and out of your home. You only looked up, acknowledging him. 

“How are you, my lady?” he asked.

“I have been quite busy.” you answered.

He didnt have his cap, but kept on his red leather jacket and dark pants. His auburn curls that shone like amber when he walked by a ray of sunlight. And how…well fitting his jacket was on him. There was something stirring on you when you looked at him that you didn’t like. Attraction and yet also disgust.

“What did you…do this morning, my lady?” he asked. He fiddled with his hands placed on his lap.

He was forcing himself to spend time with you- you knew it. Just trying to be nice, pretending to be nice.

“Said my prayers, Ate breakfast. Wrote a few letters. I had a walk about…” you reported.

“That sounds very nice, Y/N,” he replied.

He sat up. Folding his arms, he leaned against the wall. He gave you a smile as he looked down on you, licking his lips. You had a guess as to what his thoughts were now. But here, without a thousand eyes watching over you, you could indulge in bluntness. 

“And you, no doubt, enjoyed your morning with your whores from the London streets,” you sniped, pulling the pink thread through again. “We might as well be honest with each other if our parents want us to marry, Hal. Expecting fidelity from you is like expecting a fish to sprout wings and feathers. I’m saving myself the disappointment.” 

You  kept your eyes down. Ready to stitch in the next one when Hal said-

“I have not lain with whores…”

You turned your face to meet his, and found his eyes hardening. His smile dropped. He stood up from leaning against the wall. You found your own mouth opening a little, though the words struggled to come out.

“What…what did you say?” you asked. You weren’t sure if you heard it right.

“I…I have not lain with a whore in…five months, Y/N. I will tell you that…”

Guilt burned inside you. You turned your eyes down.

“Oh…I’m sorry…my mistake…” you wished earnestly. “I just know how your…reputation of…you know…”

“I cannot blame you that…” he commented.

You kept sewing, with a bit more fervor. You saw Hal out of the corner of your eye get closer to you, sitting beside you. 

“You are always busy, my lady. Always doing something. Don’t think I do not notice how you study everything one must know to…to… I hardly see you smile.” he said. 

You looked up at him.

“I have serious matters to bear- and I for one, take this upcoming marriage seriously…” you said. “If I must adapt to life in the castle, life as a princess-your princess- I will know how…”

“It is all you do…”

“It’s my duty to…it’s what…what it means to…to marry you…” you sputtered out.

You didn’t know why you suddenly felt so anguished, so sad. You saw the imprint of hte needle on your fingertips. They felt sore- how long had you sewn?

“You think I don’t…don’t take this marriage seriously?! That I don’t take you seriously?!” Hal asked.

You tossed it down and went to the window to look outside to the green trees and grey sky. Unable to face him, wrapping arms around yourself. Feeling tears in your eye ducts.

“Hal…you know I am not the kind of person you’d choose to be your wife…you know I am not the kind of lady you fancy…just go…I don’t care if you’re betrothed to her or buy her for the night, at least you’ll be happy with some other woman. Just…just admit it…You don’t like me, I will…I’ll just make you miserable, I’ll…spare you the disappointment. I’ll speak to your father- ask him to end it… just- go and end the betrothal and leave me in peace…”

You felt a few tears in you. 

“My lady…you’re…you’re crying…” he commented. 

You heard him walk behind you. You finally confessed it all.

“Hal…I wanted…I just wanted to..to have a good life. A normal, peaceful life. I dreamt of…of love and of being wooed and courted and romance…and now here I am, but…but…I’m…”

You thought of it. The upcoming days. Everything. Your life upheaving. Married and made royalty in months.

“I’m just…overwhelmed…” you confessed.

You felt tears go down your eyes. You flinched. You expected him to laugh at you. To scoff at you. He didn’t.

You turned around to him. He found your handkerchief, white with strawberries sewn on it, and handed it to you. You wiped off your face.

“Do you want to know a secret?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“The reason father wanted me to marry you was that you were always so good, so rule-abiding. He believed you would tame me. But I see you…you’re so afraid of pleasing others. You forget your own pleasures in life-haven’t you ever wanted to see life? Life outside of manors and castles? See real people? Not lords and ladies- What it is like?” he asked, leaning closer to you.

You looked up. He opened his hand. You accepted it.

“You look like you have never relaxed a day in your life! And for all your assumptions about me…have you ever seen a tavern, my lady?” he asked.

“I…I…uh…no. No, I haven’t,” you confessed.

“Then…how about a change of scene?” he asked. He gave a small wink. It made you a little breathless.

•❅──────✧❅✦❅✧──────❅•

You were dressed in some peasant clothes that fit you- a simple blue dress over a white shift and a brown belt and long sleeves. Simple, but pretty. You liked pretty things and wanted to feel a little even as a peasant. Hal in his usual red leather. You both rode out on his black horse He took you out to those streets. It buzzed with flies. You could smell meat and see the butcher’s wares of dead animals hung out everywhere. A tall dog wagged its tail and sniffed the ground. It went up to you and you petted it. He felt scruffy and soft and panted with a smile. Then he went about sniffing. Hal turned to you. He looked out. It was a steady crowd of people going about. You couldn’t help but look about you.

“Here, my lady…take my hand,” he offered, outstretching his.

“How come?”

“I don’t want you to get lost,” he explained.

You accepted it. Feeling it’s warmth as he walked you through. Many turned to see him and bowed to him. It amazed you. He looked around- you never knew so many just ordinary people. All about. Lvinig their lives- how fascinating they were.

He then smiled.

“This…this is the one. The one that’s my favorite!”

It was called The Boar’s Tavern. He helped you in. Already it was crowded with people. Wooden and smelling of roasting, rich, savory meats and of ale, of wine. People chatted everywhere. Children played about with balls made of cloth. Ladies sat on the laps of men and laughed.

In was a woman with an apron, a hat over her head, and fingerless gloves. She was short and had grey hair and bright, red cheeks from her bustling about. 

“Aye! It is his grace, our Hal!”

He went up to her and kissed the side of her head.

The woman turned over and peeked at you, merely folding your hands before you. 

“And my-who is this lady?”

You curtsied out of habit and placed your hands before you. Suddenly shy.

“Mistreress Quickly-this is the lady Y/N. She is…she is my betrothed. Lady Y/N, this is Misteress Quickly-she owns and runs this tavern.”

You looked about. To think- she, a lady, ran this whole business! It was hers! She wasn’t a whore or a wife, she was a woman of business!

“All of this is yours?” you asked.

“Aye, it is. A right and good establishment, if I say so.” Mistress Quickly boasted.

“It’s…it’s very…it’s cozy…and it looked fun!” you said.

“Oh, we do have some fun. Hal-pour her some sack. We will give her some and a meal, on the house! Especially one about to be Lady Hal- oh, to think I’d see the day!” she remarked. 

She went over to gather up a fire for your meal and drinks. Men went about to lounge and laugh with each other. And about were women. Their shoulders exposed, and dresses cut to show more of their decolletage. Would they laugh at you? No…they were focused on drying their laundry. Or their eyes would turn up to you, nodding heads in acknowledgment before returning to their business. Misteress Quickly arrived and handed you both cups of wine or “sack.” It felt cheaper than what you drank at home-but stronger, burning down your belly. 

Then, finally, one approached you. Her head tilted in curiosity. She had unbrushed blonde hair and a dirty dress that revealed her shoulders. She put her hands on her hips.

“Why- you’re the lady Y/N, ain’t you?” she asked.

“Yes, yes I am. Pleased to meet you. What is your name?”

“Eh, call me Doll,” she answered. 

It was obvious-A whore! A real one! Flesh and blood! But even if she was one…you still owed her good manners. She looked down and then up at you.

“Why then- good to meet you too. I can tell already you’ve never had to put a toe here- but need not fear. We’re a merry bunch. Harmless. Everyone’s all laughter and drinks and all.,” she advised.

“That…that sounds nice…” you replied.

She went up to you, gently slapping your arm to hold it. Speaking already as if you were an old friend. 

“But you don’t have to be so all ‘yes my lord’ and ‘no my lord,’ here. Some old goat bothers you, you shove ‘im off. Here…have yourself a drink…”

“I…I’ve never met a…a whore before…” you commented.

“Why, now you have. Don't be scared- I don’t bite,” she said.

Mistress Quickly handed you a cup. Hal was already teasing a serving man named Francis with how many times he could run about. 

“Do you…like what you do?” you asked Doll.

“When the man’s nice, like my dear old Jack here” she gestured to Falstaff. “You get enough to get by.”

“Are you scared of having a baby?” you asked.

“You learn all the herbs and tricks to stop that. Most men want you to pleasure them with your mouth, anyways- can’t have a baby there,” 

You looked down at your cup, warm with embarrassment. Then you asked further, lowering your voice.

“Have you…been with Hal?”

She let out a little a small smile. She didn’t lower her voice. 

“Course I have! Yes-some of the women say he visited them. He’s a regular!” she told you.

“Doll, What was he…he like? Does it…does he hurt you?” you asked agian in a quite voice. 

“Hurt! Oh no! He’s sweet as can be! He won’t hurt you- unless you ask him to give you a good slap as he’s ridin’ you!”

She laughed at your embarrassed look.

“I’m…I’m his intended so…I wanted to know, to be ready…” you explained.

“Oh! Nervous for your duty and all that!? Well, I’ll tell you- he is a good man. And he’ll be good to you when it’s your turn. Now…what do you think of the sack?”

You took another sip of your cup. 

“It’s…it’s so good!”

“Try it with honey-it’s even better!”

 She showed you a honey jar and poured a little in your cup. And yes- it was even better. 

Then in stumbled an old man. So bulbous and a face so red he reminded you of a tomato. His white hair and great white beard, boasting to a crowd. 

“Three men! Oh no- I tell you- it was five men, hm yes! Five men I defeated there!” he bragged to the dirited companions surrounding him, all with amused looks. 

Then his eyes lit up, seeing you. 

“Falstaff…this is Y/N”

“Yes, and when I saw those six men, I-”

The man called Falstaff paused his bragging and turned to see you. He put his hands over his hips to look at you.  You curtsied again.

“Pleased to meet you, sir.” you said. 

The old man, plumper than a peach with a long grey beard and a red face went to you. He looked you up and down. Then he talked-talked so much you didn’t have time to reply. 

“Hmmm, ah, yes. This is the Y/N-the famous Y/N, lady Y/N. Yes-how much I see already. Her hands positioned to hold- the little smile, her posture-mmph, can tell already where she’s been. One of those convent girls. But if that is who will make Hal die on his wedding night, he will die smugly… I tell you, sweet wag-”

You turned  your eyes down before the floor. Falstaff was talking so boldly of…le petit mort in a public space! But you should have guessed from the whores how open everything was here. Hal blushed and put his head down. You looked away. Falstaff released a large laugh at your reaction. 

The old knight turned to Hal and patted his shoulder. 

“I’ve conquered many a heart in my day. Oooo, old Jack Falstaff has ways with women. Hmm- the letters I’d send them. There is a Lady Ford and a Lady Page and with one letter  to each, I’ll cuckold their husbands easily! So- here’s my advice, wag. Give her a sweet word, a letter -and she’ll be yours. I can show you the format- yes, yes. No woman can resist the love of the knight, Falstaff…I doubt even less this-”

He pinched Hal’s cheek.

“-Handsome, young prince here!”

He handed you the letters he planned on sending them. To your immense surprise, it was the same one only the names were switched. Before you could comment he got them again and folded them up, putting them in his pocket.

“Hmm- this calls for celebration- for Hal’s marriage and my seduction! Francis! Come over, lad! Give some sack before I die!”

He waddled over to where the cup bearer sat.

“Should we tell him? The letters are the same?” you asked.

“I would rather sit by and watch and laugh at him!” Hal replied. 

Then in came a young man with dark hair and dark eyes-slender and with a triangular nose.

“Oh here! A lady is here?! A new lady-” he said. 

“Why, Poins-here-I would like you to meet her. This is Lady Y/N.”

You made your curtsies again. He only gave you a cheeky smile. 

“Oh, well- tis time!” he muttered.

Hal shot to him with wide, nervous eyes. 

“Poins I-”

Poins then swooped you into his arms. You let out a little shreik from the feeling. 

“Hal! I have your maid! And now she is mine!” he teased.

So light and fun, you did not feel any fear. He caught you and lifted you above him with his strong arms. You were surprised at his strength- he hoisted you up and began running through the tavern. People laughed as Poins ran about with Hal chasing him and even you couldn’t help but laugh too. 

“Oh, Poins, you dog! Let me have her!” Hal cried.

Quickly he ran, you squealed from the feeling. Up high and dangling as Poins ran off. He went to a quick corner in one end and set you down. After seeing that he was hidden, he turned to you. 

“He will never admit it-but the man adores you, Y/N!” he confided.

Your jaw dropped.

“He…he what! Since…the bethrothal?” you asked.

“Before that- for several months since he met you! Won’t even touch Doll anymore!”

Shock flooded your system. The words earlier- they made sense.

Poins put up a hand. 

“ I swear he’s like some doe-eyed lover in a romance for you! He could hardly speak to you in your bethrothal- you make him nervous, Y/N! He wanted nothing more than you since when you first met! And now he sighs and pines. He blushes like a maiden! And seems half a man whenever your name is brought up! Y/N- And I must tell you something!”

He leaned closer.

“Long before the betrothal was a whisper…there was one night. It was dark and four in the morn. My sweet honey lord was quite drunk. He would sigh into his cup. I had to be fetched to drag him to a bed. Do you know what he was muttering? He cursed into his cup, lamenting “Y/N- sweet creature- Oh, Y/N! Curse the day Fate gives you to another!’ before he fell to the floor. Dear lady-show him a little mercy! Or be clever- Turn this prince into your servant when you can!”

You had no words. Your eyes are wide. Of course…this could be a lie. Just something he was making up to flatter you. To prank you. But, something inside of you was telling you it was truth…if so, why would he lie to you? What would Poins gain?

Then Hal swept in, his face bright red.

“Please, enough! Are you hungry, my lady!? I think you should to dinner- there’s going to be music you might like.” he suggested.

“Of…of course,  Hal,” you replied.

He turned around, his eyebrows going up as you used his nickname. The one his friends here called him. 

As you reached over, you clasped his hand. Hal went still for a moment, seeing that you eagerly put yours in his. Feeling your touch. Then he went on.

As you ate, you noticed women left with men. They held the hands of their customers and led them to their rooms. Then the moans and grunts and the rhythms of something hitting the walls not long after. Wet sounds, too- without shame of their volume.  You swallowed the urge to gasp and looked down in embarrassment. Hal only gave a smirk as he ate on.

“Are they…” you turned to Hal.

“They aren’t reading, I can tell you that…” Hal laughed as he picked up some meat and chewed it in his mouth. 

“They’re so…so loud…so…so shameless, I never….Wouldn’t they be embarrassed?” you asked.

Yet part of you…you would never admit it…the sounds also…you liked them. You…envied them. And with Hal so near. His leather just brushed against your arms. 

“When one finds pleasure here, they don’t feel ashamed of it. They just enjoy it.”

“Isn’t it…sinful?” you asked.

“Sinful for how their bodies react when they touch each other? How God made them? If they agree to it, it cannot be, I think…”

 Both of you finished your meals. The sounds of their pleasure became dimmer. You heard people get out instruments and play them. There was starting to be laughter. A gentleman with a large and red nose- Bardolph, went up and greeted Hal. As Hal went up to welcome his friend, you suddenly felt a tug on your arm.

There was a gentleman at least ten years your senior. He had sharp eyes and his strong arm pulled you closer. He gave you a wide, lascivious smile as he handed you several coins.

“Here, girl…” he said.

“Sir…what is this?” you asked, looking at the coins.

“This, this is for you, of course, my dear.”

“For me?”  you repeated.

 It then hit you why. 

He grabbed your arms.Panic surged through your system. He tried to drag you off to the nearest dark corner, but you forced your feet still. Tugging at him, struggling to break off. You managed out of his arms, and then he grabbed your hand. But you stayed still. A glimpse at Doll Tearsheet and your heart was racing. 

“Sir- there’s been a mistake! I’m a lady! I am not a whore!” you stated.

“Ah, the whore thinks she can refuse, eh?! Why else would Misteress Quickly bring a new beauty to The Boar’s Head!” he asked.

“I’m just visiting, sir! Doll is right over there! And plenty of others could use it more than me!” you cried. Glancing towards the other women.

Doll’s head perked up and she sensed something amiss. Even the whores looked among each other in seriousness once they realized what was happening. 

“This money’s not for Doll, it’s for you. You would be a delight in bed tonight!”

Doll touched the arm of the prince by Bardolph, alerting him. 

You were ready to fight him, ready to run, then in came Hal. He whipped out his dagger and pointed it to the man’s nose. He jumped off. Doll ran forward and pulled you away, pulling you into a protective hug.

“Leave her be- you miscreant!”

The villain held up his hands and backed off slowly.

“Why, your little grace..what else have you to do with this woman? I was about to pay for her, like any other man here. Why do you act thus?”

The music paused and eyes turned. Amused and worried, as to what would happen next. Would a fight break out? Would there be more men who thought they could be your “customers?” You cowered further into Doll, clinging to her. Oh dear God, how bad this was getting!

Your heart raced. Hal glanced at you. You looked at Hal with wide eyes. He then unsheathed his dagger and looked at the man. Then Hal made his reply.

“Because she is my whore for tonight!”

The earth stopped turning. You could hear your fast heartbeat and your jaw dropped. Hal went up to you. With great strength, he pulled you from Doll’s arms to his. In a second, before you could process it, he sat down on the nearest surface and pulled you to his lap. You made a small gasp at the feeling. He wrapped an arm possessively around you.

Then he looked thunderously at the tavern. They were silent as he made a declaration. 

“I bought her company all this evening. Tonight, she is mine. And if any man here thinks they can dare touch what is mine, their head will be lobbed off under order of the Prince of Wales- is that clear!?”

He nodded his head, and the other wide-eyed men swallowed and took note.

Mistress Quickly scurried towards the musicians.

“Play! Play! Oh- give us a song! Something merry!” she insisted. 

They played and the tension relaxed. People went back to their drinking and their business. But you remained sitting on Hal. 

“Play along,” he whispered into your ear.

But sitting on his lap… It was making you…feel something. Something you couldn’t quite name. Your heart was beating even harder. Your body felt like it was with fever. And as for between your legs, it was stirring, something, something you had never felt before-and you wanted more of it. He was right there, beneath you. You felt his hands go around to your back.

Others were siting at Hal’s table. You both glanced to see whores with their customers- they were kissing. 

He eyed you and them. Then, he touched touched your chin. He asked.

“A kiss for me, my beauty?”

Enough so that no one would suspect anything. 

“I, uh-yes,” you replied.

 Then he pulled you in for a kiss. A deep, passionate kiss. Feeling his soft lips, the wine on his breath and tasting rich, like you could become drunk from him-his touch alone was making you feel intoxicated already. You tugged at him, and he kept a hand at your back to secure you. You sighed from it. Groaning from it. Then he released. His pupils were wide and both of you were catching your breaths. 

“Hal…”

You then gathered your skirt in your hands and looked down. What scared you was how much you liked touching him. How…how wonderful this felt. How…nice. Something between your legs was stirring. It was getting wet and you sensed it was not with urine or menstrual blood.

Hal then smiled at his companions at the table and raised a glass to them. 

“Y/N…my pretty whore…to the jewel of the Boar’s Head, Y/N-and a jewel she will be in my bed tonight.”

They cheered as they raised their cups. They had a deep drink. You were handed one and drank too.

“Yes-uh, yes, my lord, I will be-uh, very happy to pleasure you tonight,” you muttered in agreement, before having a sip.

He reached his hand down yours. Then he lifted up your hand to his lips and kissed you on your pulse, keeping a steady hold on it as he lowered.

Then they began to boast of how the wine caskets were being opened and how much they could drink in one go. Laughing, they ran over to sample it. 

Hal turned over to you. He had a half-smile

“My lady…your pulse is racing very fast…are you afraid of me?” he asked, though with a touch of cheekiness.

“No,” you answered. But you were afraid of how much you liked this. 

“It’s only when I touch you, is it?” you asked.

“Yes…yes it is…” you confessed breathlessly.

He made a small laugh and you could have sworn he was blushing. 

“It’s only your body reacting to me. It’s how God, how nature made us- nothing more… Can you continue the pretense? For a little bit?” he asked.

“Yes, Hal, I can,” you said.

He then slid you off of his lap to be on the seat next to him. Once when you thought you could cool your senses, he turned close to you, touching your leg as you were near and wrapping his other arm around you.

“Do you like the wine here, my lady?” he asked.

“I’ve…I’ve never had better, sweeter wine…I haven’t drank too much of it, have I?” you asked.

“If you’re still walking safely, then the answer is no, Y/N,” he replied. 

Then the music got to a gig. People got up, getting partners.

“Are they going to dance?” you asked.

“Yes, they are!” he confirmed.

“You took his hands, smiling and getting up.”

“Dance with me Hal- do you know how to?” you asked.

“Yes, yes I do!” he answered.

You led him over as couples gathered around. They managed to kick their steps in time and though he still had trouble with his feet, he was smiling- relaxed. Far more relaxed than he was at any court ball.

At one point you had to turn around. But all you could see was him. Your bodies moved so well together- almost in sync here. You could look at him and do the steps fluidly. Feeling his touch, looking into his eyes. He held your hand…something was different. He kept a hand to your back warm and splayed. It never felt this nice.

Then…it ended. And he was still holding your hand. Catching your breaths and looking into each other's eyes. Hesitantly, he let go.

“Did you like that, my lady?” he asked.

“I…I liked it. Very much.”

You wanted him. You wanted his touch. More of him. He placed you back on his lap as he sat down right next to a table. He nestled into your neck.

“I’ll tell them I’m taking you with me to the palace and then escort you home,” he whispered. 

“People are…are leaving more, now…” you commented. The crowds were thinning. The noise was calming down. 

“Why…it’s getting late…a tavern has two lives. The celebration and then the dimming, the seriousness, when all is dark and gloomy.”

“It’s still…it’s peaceful… I do like it Hal…”

His lips moved to speak and then froze. He touched your cheek tenderly.

“Y/N…” he muttered.

“What is it?”

His softened to you.

“You’re…you’re a beautiful woman…and…and a good woman, too…” he confessed breathily, earnestly. 

“I am your…your whore…” you said aloud, aware there were others. You nervously glanced around and then he held your chin back to face him. 

“Y/N, I don’t care what you are now. I just want you to kiss me again.”

You did, feeling him. His mouth. His touch. He pressed himself towards you- to keep you close again. You heard him sigh into it. Then lips releasing- yet it felt too soon. He whispered your name. His voice. And it was not pretense. 

“Sweetest of ladies…my dearest…”

Before you knew it, he laid you down on that table. Your breath was knocked out of you. You felt your back hit the wood. He crawled on top of you on the table. Your bare legs peeking from your skirt being hiked up from your position, he touched them, feeling your skin up and down. But his weight didn’t touch you and his hands feeling your thigh made you feel even dizzier. He laid another kiss on you. You couldn’t catch your breath. You couldn’t believe How…good all of this felt. And your folds were wetting already, and not with urine or menstrual blood. He kissed you again. His hips touched yours and you felt your legs go up in instinct. A truly whorelike moan escaped you. You never felt…like this before. This climb up, this ecstasy.

This…need. 

He let go of his lips. Then pulled off of you. But The cold air hit you like a shot. But it was still stirring inside of you. This desire…screaming, turning inside you.

You wanted him.

“I’m sorry- I was carried away,” he muttered. “Y/N…I’ll…I’ll stop,”

“No!” you hissed.

He paused, his eyes wide. You went to him and touched his face. You swallowed deeply.

“I…I didn’t want you to stop,” you confessed.

“What?” he mumbled, tilting his head.

The words flew out of you. You gathered yourself on his lap. Feeling your legs wide, the cool air against your soaking, throbbing arousal. You wanted it complete- you wanted him. You touched his face, speaking softly. 

“Hal…I don’t want you to stop…what…what is it like? When you lie with a woman? With a whore? How does it feel? I want to know Hal…I want to…I want you to…to do the act on me. Take me…you are my husband already they say…then show me what is it like to bed you. What will it be like to be your wife? Please Hal-they think I’m your whore anyway- so bed me. Tonight. Now. Show me what it is like…” you begged quietly.

His jaw dropped. He pulled you closer. Another hand wrapping around you close. His voice was husky and his eyes gentle.

"Y/N...tonight...You want me... and you trust me?” 

“Yes,” you answered.

You felt his breaths shudder. Then he took your hand. He downright pulled you to Mistress Quickley in a corner counting money.

"Is there a spare room?" he asked.

She pointed upstairs. 

"For you? The second one you see up there," she explained with a nod.

He paid her. Then, he took your hand and led you up. Your heart was racing, going right up. He opened the door and let you in.

It was a wooden room. Cozy with plenty of space. Humble chairs. A window with brown crossed latched. And a large bed with a feathered mattress and four posters right when you opened the door. Moonlight shone through the windows. There were a few lit candles. Enough to see, but enough it was dim, private, romantic. 

Hal, far too tall for the doorframe, ducked under it with a fluid ease.

“Now…at last, we can be alone…and at last…you will be mine in every way…” he husked.

He pushed the door shut as he kept looking into your eyes. Then He grabbed your face and he kissed you. Then he took his hands and put his hips to yours. It caused friction that made you gasp. It nudged a sensitive part of you and you shuddered.

"Is it locked? If...if someone walks in?" you muttered, remembering yourself.

"Will they disturb the Prince of Wales, now? I will send them away..." he whispered.

You felt his fingers going up from your sides, then to touch your waist, gripping it. 

"I have someone more important with me now," he said with a smile. 

He sat on the bed and pulled you to sit on his leg. You let out a small sound at the feeling. His hand went up your skirt, finding your thighs.

“Spread your legs my dear…let me help you…I will make you ready…” he whispered.

He bunched up your skirt, so you felt it gather around your hips. His hands opened your legs so that you felt his knee right against your bare folds.

The smooth leather of his pants hit against your most private area- wet and sensitive. You felt it…brush against him, the material of his pants. You let out a gasp. So sensitive- stimulated. But you wanted more. 

“Do you like this feeling?” he asked.

You nodded. He guided your hips. It moved back, and then forth- making friction and a chill ran against you. You let out a small gasp.

“H-Hal! That…that feels…feels so good…”

He moved your hips to grind against his thigh.

“There….now darling…ride it like a horse-there,” he said.

He guided your hips to grind against his leg. You placed your hands over his broad, strong shoulders. It was pulling you close. The tension- it was making you gasp. Sounds coming out of you that you never thought you could make-touching him. Even with his codpiece on, you could tell something was stirring inside him too. He gave you another kiss as you rode his leg. Then his hands went over to your blouse. He touched your breasts, giving them a gentle squeeze.

“Are you alright, my lady?” he asked with a smug smile.

You let out a moan as an answer. He grabbed you. He kissed you more as if he was drunk and you were ale. Still clothed entirely and already a mess for each other. His voice low, he said into your ear.

"When I join with you, I'm going to make you cry out louder with pleasure than any whore here ever did. And they will know who gives this to you- your lord. And when I'm inside you, there will be more blessings between your legs than any church could give me…”

He kissed you again. His hand moved up to cup your breasts. He moved them around, feeling them. He moved, a finger playing with the string tie that held it together- your shift beneath he began to unlace the strings of your bodice. You paused, the cool air of your chest as it was lowering for him.

“I didn’t say you could stop…keep going. I’m going to undress you slowly- I want to enjoy every inch of you revealed to me…” he ordered.

You kept grinding.

Your blouse was loose, showing your shoulders. He pressed a kiss onto them that made you sigh out another little groan.

His hands greedily remove your garments. He took off your belt,. The little fingerless gloves joined it’s pile. Then finally his hands went to the collar of your dress and shift, already loose. He pulled your dress over your head. Then, in only your shift, he tugged it down until it pooled over your hips. Your bare breasts and stomach before him. You felt his eyes see you, all of you. You chilled from the cold. But he only smiled. He wrapped both arms around your waist and cupped your cheek. He looked down-seeing your breasts rising with your excited breaths. He licked his lips at Your stomach and Your hips. 

“Beautiful…just beautiful…how lucky I am to enjoy you for all of my life now,” he said.

Then he kissed you at the nape between your neck amd shoulder. You sighed into it.

"H-Hal..." you voiced out. 

You held onto him.

“What are you thinking, my love?” he asked.

“That…this duty feels…feels nice…That I…I’m going to be your wife and…I should…perform my duty to you…” you voiced out. 

He put his hands on your hips and stopped your grinding. Then he took and you half threw you on the bed. He went over to you getting on top of you. You felt his fingers then reach one digit to your folds. You let out a small cry. 

"You should know of passion, not duty, in our bed. You should know the ecstasy I can give you every night from now on. would you like that?” he asked.

"Y-Yes...my lord, yes Hal.."

You gasped feeling it. He removed his fingers, slick with your juices. He began to undo his jacket- your wetness grazing the leather and making a small stain. Then removed his black shirt. He went up to you. 

He took your hand. He traced the wrist gently with his finger. Then he kissed it. 

"There is my little sweetling...such a good little wife she will be…doing everything for her husband…and she will be rewarded…”

 You got him, your nails digging into his warm back. He slid a finger back into you. He got it out, then back in. You clutched onto him- feeling him against the lips between your legs as he swirled around. You ground against it, finding even more pleasure.

"Oh...oh Lord....Hal…your fingers are so…so-!”

"Do you like that, my sweet lady, do you enjoy being ruined this way?"

"Yes...yes...more, Hal- I want more!"

“Sweet little bird…so eager, so willing. Willing to please- to let me corrupt her. What would those nuns think of you now, hm? What would they know of what we have here, now?  I will enjoy having you- and I will have you every night. How does that sound for Duty, hm?”

He kissed and slid a tongue over yours. He slid another finger, pumping in and out.  Your legs had to widen to accommodate him. You made so many noises. 

You felt so hot, you felt his weight, shifting on top of you. To kiss you. To adore you. His snaking body grinding against you-he kissed you like you were food. His need. His ache. His hair fell softly through him. He cupped your cheeks and kept kissing you again.He groaned as he kissed

He let go with a smirk on his face. You felt something bubbling inside you- going up.

"I should have…should have taken you on the table...before all of them to watch-"

“Better late than never,” you breathed out, both of you melting into small laughter. 

But right before it climbed too high up, he removed his fingers, slick with you. You took his body in. His beautiful, lean body. How soft yet strong he was. So many muscles in just his arm alone. His chest- how beautiful it was. How…broad he was, too. And not just his chest that felt large. 

He removed his codpiece and slid off his pants easily. Your eyes went down to that cock-hard and eager and huge. Twitching. You had to swallow a moan from it-how was it going to fit in you? He then slid you down the bed-and he remained standing.

“Yes- look at me, darling. It might hurt a little, sweet wife. I will be slow,” you voiced.

But you were so eager-so desperate-you had to be with him. How warm he felt now- skin against skin. He kissed you once more time, his hips teasing what was to come.  Yet he was still remaining standing.

"Here...are you ready, my dear?”

“Yes, yes I am! My lord, please! Please take me!”

You felt his cock teasing against your entrance. He began to graze his hands up and down your thigh. touching up and down them. He looked at your pussy and smiled. Then, positioning your legs already to be between his head. He began to trust in you by sinking in. Inch by agonizing inch, he slowly vanished in.  

You let out a cry-a whimper. You had never been filled like this.

“ Oh my god-Hal!”

He groaned, easing him last bit of his cock inside you. The slight pain then began to melt.

“Do you want me to stop?”

The pain was gone-fizzled to pleasure. You were…getting used to him.

“No…no…please…please keep going. Please-”

He backed and then thrust.

“Oh! Oh- yes-yes, Hal-please.”

The began- thrusting slowly inside you. Still standing and you laying down. His hips rocked back. Creating such friction, such heat, like none you have felt. He was groaning hard. Each thrust was better than the last one.  

All you could say was a prayer. Simply repeating “please-yes-oh, oh my god-please, Hal, please-yes, there, Hal-”

You were used to it, then he increased the pace. He hissed out your name. He held you still so you had to take all of him- not that you would complain.  You felt your voice rising. All you saw was him, felt was him. He was nailing you-he was keeping you right into the end of the bed as he stood. So deep and full were his penetrations. Then his hand slid.

“Ah- yes-Here..my little rose has a rosebud inside her-” he said.

He found your nub, and then began to strum it with his thrusts. Even more pleasure whirled in you- it felt even better.

"Oh! Oh-gods! Hal! Yes! Yes-please-Yes! There!”

"Yes-cry my name, tell all of Boars-nrgh-all of Boar's Head-nrsh-who your lord is..."

Flesh slapped against flesh as he increased his pace. You weren’t sure now- you slide back and forth, whimpering with pleasure. 

“You-are-mine-now-nrgh-Gods and-Fuck-yes your lord-yes-gives you-gods-yes,this-fuck-your lord always-always satisfies you-”

His pace increased. He was grunting, moaning. You now understood why the noises came from those rooms-you were making them yourself. He pounded and pounded you into the bed.

“Hal…Hal-something-something in me-it’s…it’s going up…” you whimpered.

He kept strumming you.

“You’re close-close my dear-it’s going to overwhelm you- yes- it’s-it’s me too- give into it-give into it- cry ou t- let it happen-yes-fuck-yes-yes-yes, now, my dear- come now- come now!”

Then finally, you felt it-pleasure bursting, overwhelming you. It hit you so suddenly, so hard, you let out a shout that echoed.  You cried out-

“Yes-Hal-Hal!”

With a groan and a thrust, brought on by your own brink, he came. You felt him pump inside you. It was probably lucky to have the wedding in two months- if a child came from this, none but you would know. 

He paused, collapsing down onto you. Only to hold you, nestling you close.

“Hal…I…I have no words…” you whispered.

“You cannot ask to break this betrothal…not after what we’ve shared…” he breathed. He then went up to see your face. “Please, Y/N…I…I…”

“I love you too, Hal,” you replied.

He smiled, kissing you. A deep breath of relief through him. He positioned himself there on the bed, holding you for only a bit. 

“We…we will have to get home soon…we…we will get in trouble…” you said.

“What sweet trouble it was….but I will see you home safe…” he replied.

 He redressed you and you helped redressed him. When it seemed the tavern was asleep without witnesses about the main room, he held your hand and led you back to his horse outside. Eagerly you both galloped, but you laughed as the wind tickled you. You found riding so close to him comfortable now and leaned back against him. An embrace as each landing of the steed’s hooves brought you closer. Then you were brought back home.

He was there at the entrance, knowing the servants would escort you to separate rooms, separate beds. He took your hand and then kissed it. A goodnight promise.

“Sleep well, my lady, he wished.

“Shall I see you tomorrow?” you asked.

“Every day,” he replied with a smile that matched yours.

#prince hal #prince hal x reader #prince hal fanfiction #prince hal imagine #prince hal x you #henry v imagine #tom hiddleston #hollow crown henry v #the hollow crown #hiddlesedit #william shakespeare #angst with a happy ending #prince hal smut #hiddlesverse #the hollow crown henry iv #henry iv #henry iv part 1 #tom hiddleston characters

[five-miles-over]

Fairytale

Pairing: Prince Hal x Reader

Summary: While riding upon your horse in the woods, you come across a stranger with a silver tongue and golden curls. And he calls himself "Hal". (Basically meet-cute and fluff.

Hope you enjoy it)

The scent of dew and fresh mud filled your nostrils while you rode through the forested outskirts of the town. Upon a black stallion, a horse from your family's stables whom you fondly named Idyia, you took in the signs of the towering trees crowned with leaves of various hues. A robin sang after it landed on a branch. Idyia trotted, leaves crunching under her hooves. 

It couldn't have been a more serene, tranquil moment. As a noble girl whose family was linked to the royal court of England, and therefore had a reputation to maintain, there were few things that you could relish without the prying eyes of nurses, intruding elders, or gossipy maids. And while you enjoyed your close friends, there were times where you needed a break from the world. A break from being endlessly lectured about propriety, poise, and the pressing need to find a good husband. 

So here you were, with a vibrant blue cloak over a long, dark blue gown with silver embroidery, enjoying the beauty of nature and the company of Idyia. Suddenly…

"Colours me*!" A male voice exclaimed. Your horse briefly stood on its hind legs when a cloaked figure tumbled into your path. Without thinking, you grabbed Idyia's reins

The figure crawled onto its knees and pulled its hood back to reveal a man with sharp cheekbones, blonde curls, and a boyish smile. His face and hands were caked with mud. "My lady," he grinned, as if he hadn't scared you a moment ago. 

"Who might you be?" You asked, still holding tightly onto Idyia's reins, your heart still racing.

"Hal," the man responded without missing a beat. "Call me Hal."

You slowly nodded, running your fingers through Idyia's mane. "Hal…" Was it short for something else? Hal didn't seem like a common or proper name.

"Just Hal."

You curtly introduced yourself to the stranger, giving only your first name. 

"My lady," Hal began as he slowly stood up and dusted himself off. "Would you be so kind as to help me get to town. Somewhere with some clean water, to get all the mud off."

"Of course. The town isn't too far from here."

"Thanks…" Hal stumbled towards Idyia and pawed at the  saddle, but he stopped when you gave him a look. "I'll walk alongside you, my lady. Especially, since I…I surprised you. Let's save riding together for another occasion."

Flustered by his last sentence, you reluctantly pulled the reins and rode into town with Hal walking by your side. After several moments of silence, Hal looked up at you. "Where are you from?"

"My family's estate is near the outskirts of the palace…do you come from far away, Hal?" 

"No, no. Closer than you think." He chuckles.  "What brought a high-born lady like yourself to the forest?"

"I needed some time…to think."

"Thinking? I've done some of that myself."

"Oh really?"

"I think about many things," Hal claimed. "I think about the world we live in, how death comes for all of us regardless of how rich we are, how poor we may be…nothing matters!" He throws a hand up in the air.

"How morbid," you couldn't help but giggle.

"Ah, yes. But all the more reason to enjoy the life we've been given."

"Yes, yes…does stumbling in the forest fall into your definition of enjoying life?"

Hal sheepishly rubbed his chin. "I was on the run from some…not good people."

You raised an eyebrow.

"But that's all behind now, I'm sure Falstaff will act like nothing happened." 

You were so engrossed with Hal's mock philosophy that you hadn't realized that you'd entered the town. 

"Let me help you with that." Descending from your horse, you pushed the water pump a few times before it produced a clear stream of water.

"Thank you." Hal took some water in his hands and scrubbed the mud off of his face and hands. 

"Would you like me to fetch some soap?"

"Don't need it." 

You fiddled with the hem of your dress, turning your gaze to the rest of the town while Hal cleaned himself. There was a town crier, announcing something the king did, something about a potential war with France - how true was it, you didn't want to contemplate much. Vendors were selling their wares, announcing outrageously low prices in hopes of emptying their stock. It was nothing too unusual for this time of day. 

Just then, Hal quickly removed his coarse shirt and splashed water on his bare shoulders, a few droplets falling onto his broad chest. His toned torso was completely free of blemishes, save for single a bruise. You didn't mean to stare, but…you did have some trouble taking your eyes off of him. And you didn't want to seem creepy by looking at him in the wrong way. 

"It's almost sundown," you quietly said. "I should get going." You handed Hal a cloth to dry himself with, and in return he took your hand and kissed it.

"I'll never forget you for your kindness, my lady. Thank you."

"A pleasure, Hal." Trying to keep a straight face, you climbed back onto your horse and rode home. 

"Perchance we'll meet again, my lady." Hal said to himself, repeating your name one more time.

#prince hal x reader #prince hal imagine #prince hal #prince hal fanfiction #tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston x reader #tom hiddleston imagines #the hollow crown #henry v

[smirkingkitten]

Tag Navigation for Characters

If you want to explore new fanfictions with a specific character you can click on one of the tags from this post to see all the fanfictions I rebloged with it.

✨And don't forget to reblog the storys you read to support all these lovely writers.✨

#tom hiddleston and #hiddleston are used on every fanfiction. So, if you’re searching for a fanfiction with him as a character, you can use #actor tom hiddleston, #obscure tom hiddleston, or, if is not necessary if he's famous or not, you can use #character tom hiddleston.

The following characters can be found in the tags.

Tom Hiddleston

Loki

Jonathan Pine

Thomas Sharpe

Prince Hal

Adam

Robert Laing

Will Ransome

Coriolanus /Caius Martius

Actor Tom Hiddleston

Obscure Tom Hiddleston

Character Tom Hiddleston

Avenger Loki

Asgard Loki

TVA Loki

Jotun Loki

Vampire

Vampire Loki

Professor

Professor Laufeyson

Professor Hiddleston

Model Tom Hiddleston

✨Happy reading 😊✨

Back to my Fanfiction Bookshelf

Many of the fanfictions are 18+, so if you're under 18, don't read them.

#tom hiddleston #hiddleston #loki #loki laufeyson #jonathan pine #thomas sharpe #prince hal #adam olla #robert laing #will ransome #coriolanus #actor tom hiddleston #obscure tom hiddleston #character tom hiddleston #avenger loki #asgard loki #tva loki #jotun loki #vampire #vampire loki #professor #professor hiddleston #professor laufeyson #model tom hiddleston

[paulgadzikowski]

[Image description: Preview panel for the comic strip at the link below. Clark (SUPERMAN) Kent, Hal (GREEN LANTERN) Jordan, Diana (WONDER WOMAN) Prince, Zatanna (MISTRESS OF MAGIC) Zatara, Bruce (BATMAN) Wayne, Arthur (AQUAMAN) Curry of Justice League comics sit at a conference table, Superman behind a podium. Aquaman is sitting rather more at ease than everyone else. Superman is saying, "Arthur, the oceans cover most of the world's surface and your population is only slightly less dense than ours. How is it you almost never have League business?" Unfortunately there are not image descriptions at the main Hero Of Three Faces site. End description.] 

The Hero of Three Faces is fanfiction crossovers, but it’s comic strips with stick figures, but they’re triangles. Preview panel only. Click here for full cartoon. Or see the on-site navigation tutorial. Or see this blog’s FAQ, or my archive tumblog’s FAQ. Cartoons may contain unmarked spoilers. Cartoons linked from Tumblr 10:00 (Central US time) daily are the previous day’s new update and the posts are pinned to the top of this blog. Cartoons linked from Tumblr 22:00 daily are from the archive and the posts are pinned only during annual summer hiatus of new updates.

Thanks for reading.

#justice leage of america #dc comics #dcu #fan art #fancomics

[asgards-princess-of-mischief]

Last Updated: 2023-12-23

Disclaimer: I am not the author of these stories, just sharing my favourite Prince Hal/Henry V stories. Find the authors' links below. If you want your work removed, message me privately.

Legend: 〔E〕 ⇢ Erotic/Steamy | 〔F〕 ⇢ Fluff | 〔A〕 ⇢ Angst/Hurt 〔M〕 ⇢ Minor Angst/Hurt | 〔C〕 ⇢ Comfort | ♥︎ ⇢ Established Relationship | 𑁍 ⇢ Pregnancy/Children | 🚫 ⇢ Content Warning

❆ Twelve Days of Christmas￨Prt. II￨Prt. III￨Prt. IV￨Prt. V￨Prt. VI￨Prt. VII￨Prt. VIII￨ by smolvenger • 18+ • 〔F᜶A᜶C〕 • ♥︎ •

Summary: "You must face your first royal holiday celebration —the Twelve days from Christmas to Epiphany —for your first time as the bride and queen of the new, young King Henry V, a man you were arranged to marry, a man you hardly know."

❆ Green Sleeves by just-the-hiddles • 18+ • 〔E᜶F〕 •

Summary: "Hal should be at the royal residence for the holiday but is instead at a local inn with Falstaff and Poins. He has his eyes on you."

See Also: Navigation || Prince Hal/Henry V Master Index

Authors: @just-the-hiddles || @smolvenger ||

#Prince Hal x Reader #Prince Hal x Female Reader #Prince Hal x Y/N #Prince Hal x You #Henry V x Reader #Henry V x Female Reader #Henry V x Y/N #Henry x You #Tom Hiddleston x Reader #Tom Hiddleston x Female Reader #Tom Hiddleston x Y/N #Tom Hiddleston x You #The Hollow Crown Fanfiction #The Hollow Crown Fanfic #Tom Hiddleston Fanfiction #Tom Hiddleston Fanfic

[macyqwrites]

wip inspiration tag — next day after dawn

thank you max @goose-books for the tag!! the rules for this one are list as many inspirations/influences as you would like for your current work in progress, and explain how they’ve shaped your project!

next day after dawn (or, the project formerly known as historieswip) is a second word political fiction novel that's basically a mishmash shakespeare's histories with 90% less battle scenes and 90% more insane family dynamics. after everyone's favourite boyboss war criminal king gets deposed, his inner circle gets locked up by the new regime, and we follow them as they try to figure out what to do next and slowly drive each other insane.

tagging: @wren-is-writing @athenapollo @avi-why and anyone else who wants to do this!

henry vi part 3 (aka the whole wars of the roses tetralogy): there's a reason this project is just nicknamed historieswip. ohhhhh babygirl we got histories and i am not preserving shakespeare's timelines at ALL, i am just throwing those babies in a blender until i get 1. vaguely medieval english political structures 2. war with not-france 3. huge royal family with so much wrong with them. but from the henry vi plays specifically! this is where like half of the characters come from. the prince cyrus/cassandane/darcy dynamic is just the henry vi/margaret/suffolk love triangle, the house of lunares is the house of york: girlboss edition, and everything about the prince cyrus and mona dynamic comes from me Thinking about henry vi and richard iii foils moments. i could say more but we'd be here all day.

henry iv part 1 (and kind of 2): so. king cyrus is hal but that's also so mean to hal because king cyrus is SO much worse. however. he does have the hal backstory, by which i mean he was a rakish little alcoholic prince with a gay little boytoy until his dad died and then he had to get Serious and banish all his besties. and renan is his poins except if poins didn't get banished and stuck as the world's most depressed advisor faking respectability instead. ALSO kane my best friend kane is basically my hotspur <33

henry v: again, king cyrus is basically just henry v with the war crimes dialed up to 11. this one is the main inspiration for his conquering hero era and also the conflict with not-france and the not-french wife. it's also where i stole the title from!

king john: most of the histories i'm stealing from are at least like. connected to each other. king john is not but i love philip the bastard so fucking much so he's here (with extra transmasc aroace swag). that's helios — the war hero king's bastard who shows up to rise above his station and annoy everyone around him. and maybe be terminally loyal to a king who really doesn't deserve it

succession: the elevator pitch for this project is basically shakespeare's histories meets succession. specifically, season 1 episode 2 of succession, where the all-powerful patriarch is suddenly out of commission and maybe never coming back and the rest of the family is left losing their minds and wondering what the fuck they do now.

the hunger games: here's where i put on my clown shoes and admit that. um. you know how i said kane is hotspur. well he is but he's ALSO cato from the hunger games, as characterized in the criminally long fanfiction i wrote in middle school. and drea is um. clove. ANYWAY. thg is also an inspiration in terms of worldbuilding because i'm going for something kind of post-post-apocalyptic where there are vast disparities in technology in different parts of the country after decades of war and inequality. so we get modern tech plus medieval weapons, thank god.

darkling: this is partly a hatecrime against max my best friend max @goose-books because once upon a time i started jokingly shipping the two horrible old men in this book and then got so attached to the dynamic that i fully imported it into this project and made it canon gay. sorry bestie. but GENUINELY darkling is one of the best fucking books i've ever read and such a huge inspiration for how i do shakespeare retellings and also fucked up family dynamics.

gideon the ninth: this book is really nothing like gtn but i have to give it a shoutout because reading gtn was what inspired me to create this project! basically because i remembered how much i love ensemble casts and decided i wanted to write one. there are some similarities in terms of the vibe of everyone being locked in a big fucked up house together and everyone having super on the nose themed names but really just shoutout to tamsyn muir for being such a good writer that she made me want what she had (so many blorbos)

thank you for coming to my ted talk <3

#next day after dawn #mine #writeblr

[starryeyes2000]

Weekly Digest: 1/22/2023

Fic Posts/Updates for the previous week and a few extras. Hope all have a great week!

The Road Back: Chapter 31 (On A Knife's Edge) * Pike x OFC (Aalin) 🌟 Read on AO3 or FFN

Blast from the Past: Mudd, Harry Mudd 🌟 Read on AO3 or FFN

This is so inspiring me to finish the next Chapter of Aeres * Eomer x OFC (Seren) 🌟 Read on AO3 or FFN. (thanks @moonskip21)

i carry your heart masterlist | OCMasterlist | Author Masterlist

Other Recommendations:

Blog: Check out @karimac! Their blog is like a warm, cozy blanket on a cold day. Excellent MCU fics and 'old school mom' virtual hugs.

Fics: Taking the Tremaculum * @late-to-the-fandom (World of Warcraft) * Teen 🌟 Read on AO3 🌟 Prince Renathal struggles to come to terms with his time in the Maw and his relationship with his Maw Walker during the Venthyr's covenant assault on the Tremaculum.

A Kiss from a Rose * @darknightfrombeyond (Discovery of Witches) * Teen 🌟 Read on AO3 🌟Simone dreamed of him. As a child. Her vampire prince, her secret, and in those dreams she could almost see him. Could almost hear his voice . . . the whisper of something half-remembered. Calling her to find him. Not until college does Simone begin to write, to draft what would become her bestselling 'Infinite Regress' series of books. To purge those visions, to sooth the ache from her soul, unaware that her books too closely reflect the life of one very real Baldwin Montclair.

Series: Peaky Blinders Fanfiction - Piccola Rossa * @foxesandmagic * Mature 🌟 Read on AO3 🌟After the War, no one was quite the same. Even those that had stayed at home felt the strain of the fighting, the strain of warfare on civilians. People deal with change, and horrors, in different ways. For Luce, she left it all behind; for Stan, he tried to help his brothers in different ways without getting sucked into their world; and for Hal, he found himself looking for some kind of action. But what will Birmingham hold for the three of them, and how will they fit into the plans of Tommy Shelby, if at all?

Taglst: @arrthurpendragon @ocappreciation @ocappreciationtag @bardic-tales @themaradaniels @chickensarentcheap @darsynia

#Christopher Pike #Christopher Pike x OC #Star Trek #Star Trek: Discovery #Star Trek: Strange New Worlds #star trek fanfiction #fanfic #ocfanfic #ocfanfiction #Star Trek Discovery #Star Trek Strange New Worlds #strange new worlds #star trek: snw #star trek snw #snw #weekly digest #mcu #discovery of witches #peaky blinders #world of warcraft