Prince Peter was young when the castle was stormed. He didn’t remember even being there.
He did have a vague memory of Natasha calming him down after telling him that his parents were dead, but he had never known that they were the former king and queen.
What he did know was a poor upbringing. When he had a loaf of bread he would split it with the farmer’s boys in exchange for a carton of milk. He knew the bread was worth more, but the boys were always complaining about eggs and he had just enough bread to spare.
Joy was harder to come by than food. Peter found that the little girl who played in the streets with the stray cats would light up at the sight of a flower. He would tuck them into her hair just before she would go calling out to anyone who would listen about their beauty.
And worse than the hunger and the blanket helplessness that filled their little village was the raids. King Thanos’ men - Natasha hated calling him king - would come into the village and take whatever they could. Peter remembers when he was fourteen years old and they came asking for a boy. Nathan. He was a young lad who lived by the lake and he would often practice shooting with a homemade bow and arrow, except this wasn’t allowed in Tregar.
Peter helped Nathan hide in his attic until they left. He knew what it meant to be taken before the king; very few people returned with their head on their shoulders.
But when he turned 18 Steve and Natasha sat him down and revealed who he was. Revealed that the training they had him do wasn’t to protect himself from the kings guards but to support him should he ever decide to take back the kingdom.
And he did want to. The king was an evil man and Peter knew he had to take back the throne, he just wasn’t sure he could do it alone.
But he found out that farmer was called Sam, an old soldier. And Sam had a friend, Bucky, who was capable and willing to help Peter’s cause.
He discovered that the little girl who liked flowers was Morgan Stark, the daughter of Tony Stark - the finest blacksmith in all of Tregar - who was happy to provide weaponry and aid in the fight.
He realised that Nathan was the son of Clint Barton, the man who stood at his father’s side for years before he went into early retirement. He was more than happy to step out of that now, for the sake of his boys.
Prince Peter looked around at his group and for the first time, he felt as though they had a chance.
was reading a STEPHEN KING book earlier (the eyes of the dragon) and legit out loud said “oh he is suuuuuch a james potter variant” about a character… the marauders brain rot is invading my every thought
[Warnings] peter parker x reader, dark peter x reader, historical au, royal au, prince Peter, mentions of noncon sex, physical abuse, spanking, alternate dimensions, fluff, hella angst, alternate peter is basically ramsay bolton
A/N: This is an angsty idea from an anon “Angst thought: Peter's got a girlfriend he super likes but she gets switched with an alternate dimension's version of her who alternate him was the worst to (like one of your dark Peter fics bad) and she's terrified of Peter now”. I decided to make this like a historical au but it can basically take place at anytime in history.
THIS CONTAINS TRIGGERING MATERIAL AND ADULT CONTENT
main masterlist
word count: 2.7k
Wine dripped from his lips as Peter stared at you like a hungry wolf. What a beautiful prey you were. He was so lucky that he had decided not to kill you like the rest of your family.
The kingdom you came from was made of sunlight. Sun dripped from the sun and kissed the skin of your people. You were a peaceful people. You had never seen war until you came to know Lord Parker.
In Lord Parker’s part of the world, there was no sun at all. His fortress sat on a hill between a dark forest and a storm-ridden sea. His followers were loyal but this was because the family ruled with fear. They conquered and pillaged for power and your kingdom was just another line on his roster.
You were nothing to him. Nothing except a toy.
You scrambled backward, your back hitting the headboard of the bed you shared with him. Peter’s eyes trailed over the bare skin of your legs and up to the white nightgown you wore. He loved you in white, the contrast to your skin, and the innocence it represented.
No matter how he tried to beat it out of you, that innocence was still there.
Peter pulled the sheets all the way back and your body began to tremble, “My sweeting,” His words were kind but his intentions were anything but. He had his claws around your heart and you felt any wrong move would lead to him ripping it from your chest, “I recall informing you that you should refrain from speaking to my servants.”
Nothing. There were no words on your lips.
Had Peter already diminished your fire? He thought he had mastered the art of pushing you all the way to the edge but not allowing you to fall over.
The room was filled with grays and black, the only light in the room came from a few candles in the corner. You could hear the waves beating against the cliffs from outside the window. You let the cold hit your skin, allowing you to feel something other than sadness.
Peter’s hands touched the mattress as his body leaned in closer, “You want to run from me, do you not?” You were frozen now. He cocked his head to the side, an evil grin decorating his handsome face, “That is why you asked your guard to help you escape. You thought he might take pity on you? Do you think the honey between your legs is that sweet? That any man would risk their lives just to taste it?”
Breathe, you had to remind yourself. Why had you done that? You should’ve known not to trust anyone. Anyone including those with sweet, forgiving eyes.
Peter sighed, taking a seat on the edge of the large mattress. You recalled the memories of the last few nights. On your wedding night, he had forced himself inside of you with a force you couldn’t bear. You still ached between your legs.
“I do try to be good to you. I try to be a good husband but … it seems the Gods have cursed me with anger …and your behavior lights that flame inside of me. Is it so much to ask that you be honest with me? To tell me what I hear is not true?”
Nothing. Again, no words escaped your trembling lip. Peter was starting to grow annoyed. He liked it better when you were screaming.
“Answer me!” He screamed, causing you to hit your head against the wood as you flinched back, “You dare run behind my back!” Peter pounced, unable to resist the sweet touch of your trembling flesh. You resisted, but that only made the member in his trousers grow even more excited.
Peter dragged you by the curls in your hair, forcing you to scramble forward until you were positioned across his lap.
“My lord, please! Please, don’t!”
Peter smiled wide as he held you down, his elbow pressing into your back. “There she is! I knew my sweet princess was a fighter,” He pulled up the skirt of your dress, revealing your bare bottom. He could still see the evidence he left behind hours ago dripping down your thighs, “Continue to scream for me, my sweeting. I do enjoy your voice.”
You cried out, trying to wiggle from his grasp, as he landed several hard spanks to your bottom. You could feel it turning colors beneath his touch, the burning pain flowed through your body, “Please, please, I won’t do it again!” You begged, “I’ll be good!”
He didn’t stop until your bottom was raw and his own hand was bleeding. Tears streamed down your tired face, a complete look of defeat crossed your features, and ultimately satisfied Peter.
“What is your name?”
You didn’t even remember anymore, “Nothing. N-No one. I am nothing but yours, My Lord.”
He dragged you from the bed though every step you took was like feeling fire against your skin.
“No ones coming to save you!” Peter shouted as he dragged you out of the room, past your guards, and to the outside balcony that overlooked the entire fortress. Everyone was used to causing the scene with his cruelty so no one even batted an eyelash as you were pulled around like a ragdoll.
He pressed you against the wooden railing, making you look out into the snow-covered court. The snow that was now soaked in blood. He was in pieces but you recognized him. It was the young guard you had talked to you. Stupidly, you asked him when the guards normally changed shifts in the compound.
His legs were separated as well as each of his arms and then …. his head. His eyes were still open. “We cut off the head last,” As you closed your eyes, he pulled at your hair tightly, “He learned what happens when you try to steal my treasure. Treasure I bravely sought and retrieved on my own.”
It was all your fault.
He was gone before Peter even stepped into that room.
Your body was only protecting itself by shutting down and causing you to faint. Peter caught you as you fell into his arms.
+
You awoke on a soft cloud. Everything smelt of sweet vanilla, even your hair. You touched your hair and found it longer and much softer than usual. Your eyes could barely adjust to the blinding light in the room. When were thing’s ever this bright on Lord Parker’s land?
Had he finally set the place ablaze with you trapped inside? The thought of it was delightful. You even considered closing your eyes again but, the room you were in, gave off an entirely different feeling than the fortress.
You sat up in the bed and your mouth gaped as you took a look around. You stumbled as you stood up on the bed. The room was ginormous, even bigger than the over-sized bed. It reminded you of the great hall in the manor you grew up in … except it was a bedroom made of gold.
You looked down at your body. This was not the white gown you were last wearing. There were no stains of blood or tears down the chest. There was also no burning on your skin, on your bottom or around your neck.
You paused as the tall gold doors opened to the room. You stared as he entered, clad in a royal suit of blue, and wearing a smile. A smile? You had never seen him with a real smile, “Did you use to jump on the bed when you were younger?” He asked a tone you weren’t quite used to. It sounded pleasant, like there was happiness on his lips, “That was my favorite too.”
Had he slipped hallucinogens into your drink? Or was this just a nightmare of your own creation?
As he moved closer to the bed, you panicked, moving down to your knees, “M-My Lord,” You addressed him, your head tilted down.
Peter paused, taking in your appearance, and his smile turned to concern, “Your Lord?” Peter asked softly, moving towards you. He reached for your hand and, although you didn’t pull away, he felt you shaking, “Y/N, what’s going on?”
You lifted your head, facing the demon, “W-Who is Y/N?” Peter searched your face for some symbol of amusement. He thought you might be pulling a prank on him but it was now clear that something was very wrong, “Where did you take me?”
Peter pulled away his hand, realizing he was only causing more unease, “I didn’t take you anywhere. This is my home. Our home. Should I call in the physician ...”
“We don’t live here …” You looked around the large room again.
“Y/N, do you promise me that this is not some sort of game?”
You shook your head quickly, “No games, My Lord.”
“My name is Peter. I am not your Lord …” Peter’s voice trailed off, his mind racing with concerned thoughts and confusion. Peter beckoned you with his hand, “Why don’t you come with me, Y/N? We will have a talk with May.”
A trick. This had to be some elaborate trick then.
“I only talk to you, My Lord,” You assured him, “I won’t speak to anyone else, I promise.”
His eyes seemed to sadden. Sad? You’d only seen anger from him before, “Y/N, you can talk to other people. I am your husband but I do not control you. You have friends. You have a family.”
A sick joke then. You stared at him dumbfounded, before shaking your head, “You killed them. They were not worthy. You spared me despite my unworthiness.”
“I-I never-” Peter stopped himself, realizing that it was becoming useless to argue at the moment. You seemed to flinch at the slightest raise in his voice, “Walk with me, please?”
You were hesitant but you crawled from the bed, your bare feet touching the cool, marble floor. The fortress was grays and black. The fortress was soot and wood. This was a palace and the man before you were dressed like a prince.
Peter noticed the distance you kept from it. Yesterday, you were madly in love with him. You held each other through every royal meeting and you spent the night wrapped in each other’s arms. He remembered how nervous he was when Tony announced the plans for his marriage but, the moment he saw you, he realized his luck. He was even luckier that you felt the same.
You glanced around the long hallways with tall white walls and ginormous windows that gave a view of the sun over a calm sea.
“What city is this?”
As the name of the city left his lips, your heart stopped. It was the same city you were kidnapped and taken to but you saw no sign of the darkness that you remembered. Had the darkness all been a bad dream?
+
The woman named May attempted to explain everything to you. She noticed your uneasiness around Peter and kindly asked to have a moment alone with you. You were frightened to speak out of turn, for fear of Peter punishing you, but the woman encouraged you to talk to her.
She knew all about the kingdom you hailed from, about your family and your peaceful people. They were all alive, Peter’s forces never led an attack against them. In fact, your father and King Tony arranged the marriage between you two. Peter was a Prince. The prince of a kingdom that did not wage war against innocents.
She checked your vitals, not noticing anything that was physically wrong with you. You didn’t even have the scars anymore.
Despite all of this, the thing that made everything sink in was seeing your family. Both your mother and older brother had not returned back to your kingdom, and you were able to embrace them after believing you had lost them forever.
+
Peter wasn’t sure what to think of everything. So much had changed that he wasn’t sure if he was looking at the same girl anymore. He didn’t want to be a villain to his own wife. He regretted that the bond that they now shared was indestructible. To divorce was a sin and they’d both be shamed by their countries.
“I can find somewhere else to sleep tonight …” You looked up to Peter, seeing how he was trying to hide his sadness. Your chambermaids had prepared you for bed, bathed you, and put you into fresh nightclothes made of the softest silks.
“It is your room,” You told him quickly, “I should not deprive you of the comfort … the comfort of sleeping next to your own wife.”
“I can tell you do not want me to, my love,” His words made your heart pang. Love. Did Peter love you? At least, did he love the old you? “I will allow you to have all the time that you need. I do not wish to be the source of your nightmares.”
Peter had a feeling that he wouldn’t be able to change that fear she felt.
“Please stay,” You told him as he made a move to leave, “I do not want to be alone.”
You had spent the entire day with your family, and now you just didn’t want to fall asleep in the silence.
Peter thought for a moment, deciding his plan of action. You couldn’t help that your breath caught in your throat as he approached where you laid on the bed. He didn’t reach to touch you, only to grab a pillow.
He laid it on the ground beside the massive bed and proceeded to make himself comfortable on the hard floor. You rolled over in the bed, looking over the edge at him, “The floor is no place for a prince, your grace.”
Peter instantly shook his head, “I do not know what you mean, my love. It feels great down here,” You could tell her was lying and a small grin pulled at your lips. He was willing to sleep on the floor just so you could be comfortable?
“Peter?”
Peter couldn’t help how his heart fluttered when you simply called him by his first name. He liked knowing before that you liked him as a person, not as an authority figure.
“Yes, Y/N?”
“What kind of things did I use to like?”
Peter didn’t expect the question, but as the memories rushed, he couldn’t help but smile, “You loved your family. You always talked about them, about your people. You wanted everyone to know that you were a princess of two, great kingdoms, not just my own. You made sure they were never forgotten.”
You continued to listen as you pictured it. You hadn’t realized they were memories of your own.
“You liked to garden. It reminds you of your time with your grandmother. You love the life you can create, the beauty you can make.”
A tear slipped down your face as you remembered the older woman.
“You liked it when we went out on the boat and rode in the bay. You liked the sound of the ocean and the sun on the skin. You hated that we kept the fish we caught. You hated how they had to die and you insisted that we give them to beggars on the street.”
You realized that this wasn’t some past you that Peter was talking about. The girl he was talking about was still you. She just had a better chance at life.
“You loved looking at the stars. You smiled for days when I showed you the telescope my father purchased from that French merchant, I swear it.”
“Peter, I-I am sorry,” Peter noticed you were crying and shot up from his spot, reaching to hold your hand, “You are nothing like him. You are nothing like him.”
“Do not cry, please,” Peter begged, rubbing soothing circles on your skin, “There is nothing to apologize for. Whatever this is, we will get through it.”
As his thumb brushed the tear from your cheek, you saw him clearly. You could look into those brown eyes and know he’d never hurt you.
+
Hope you enjoyed! (Also sorry, please don’t ask for a second part)
