glenp0wellss

[glenp0wellss]

DAVID CORENSWET & LUCY BOYNTON ↪ The Greatest Hits (2024) dir. Ned Benson

[glenp0wellss]

That’s Tyler Owens. Calls himself a Tornado Wrangler.

[glenp0wellss]

"I love this song!"

TOP GUN: MAVERICK (2022) | dir. Joseph Kosinski

[glenp0wellss]

GLEN POWELL The Running Man (2025)

[glenp0wellss]

…idk I just think it’s a nice fit

[glenp0wellss]

MERLIN | 3x05 “The Crystal Caves”

[glenp0wellss]

MERLIN | 4.11 The Hunter’s Heart

[glenp0wellss]

Superman/Clark Kent & Lois Lane Superman 2025 | dir. James Gunn

[glenp0wellss]

[glenp0wellss]

God these two have so much chemistry :D

[glenp0wellss]

MERLIN | 4.11 The Hunter’s Heart

[glenp0wellss]

#Yikes

[glenp0wellss]

Johnny Lawrence + kip up

[glenp0wellss]

PEDRO PASCAL as MISTER FANTASTIC The Fantastic Four: First Steps (2025) | Official Trailer

[glenp0wellss]

do you ever think about dead versions of yourself that are fossilized in someone else's mind

[glenp0wellss]

“You see, a home is not just the house you sleep in, a home is all of us, family and friends, when we are happy, when we are sad, when we dance and when we sing.” - Top End Wedding (2019)

[glenp0wellss]

🟇 The Crown Between Us 🟇 ~Arthur Pendragon x oc~

Summary: After an agreement between kingdoms, Arthur must marry Anwen, a young princess from Caerwyn. Both are filled with doubts and fears, but little by little—through silences, glances, and unexpected promises—something deeper begins to grow. A story about two strangers forced to share a fate… and perhaps, a heart.

Arthur x Female OC

Warnings: None... For now.

Author's Note: This fanfic is kinda AU, because it's not very canon. It happens somewhere between season 3, maybe 4. Sorry if I don't get right certain things and english is not my native language. Enjoy, I had this idea for years and now it's here ♥

CHAPTER 1: PROMISES AND FEARS

The throne room smelled of incense and sealed fate.

Arthur Pendragon remained silent, his jaw clenched, while King Uther, his father, spoke enthusiastically about the alliance. “A great step for Camelot,” he said with pride. But the young prince didn’t share that feeling. All he could feel was resignation. A marriage of duty, a decision made for him, but not by him.

“Are you telling me I’m about to marry a stranger?” Arthur blurted out, trying to mask his anger.

Uther pretended to ignore his tone. He was so sure about that the union was absolutely necessary.

“She is not a stranger. She is Princess Anwen of Caerwyn. Her father, King Edric, has been our ally for generations. This union will strengthen both kingdoms.”

The young man let out a humorless laugh. It all felt like a bad joke.

“Caerwyn... that place of peace and poetry. Do you really think a princess raised among songs and gardens will understand Camelot?”

“You’d better make sure of that,” the king replied with a certain coldness. “Because the treaty is already signed.”

_________________________________________

Arthur took out his frustration on the training grounds, lashing out at the sandbags with a furious strength. Merlin, his faithful servant (sometimes friend and confidant), watched him from the shadows until he dared to speak.

“I met her today,” he said, breaking the silence in his usual tone of friendly intrusion. “The princess.”

Arthur turned to him, sweaty and exasperated.

“So what? Did you find her charming? Wise? Is she going to save the kingdom with smiles and embroidery?”

“No. But she seemed afraid,” Merlin replied with unusual seriousness. “And still, she was kind to everyone. She listened to the maids and knights. She asked about you.”

Arthur lowered his sword.

“What did she ask?”

“If you were cruel.”

That threw him off completely. For a second, the image of a young girl trembling in an unfamiliar room, forced to marry a stranger, felt too real.

Later that day, he saw her for the first time.

The princess stood beside her mother and Guinevere, her gaze lowered, lips pressed together, like she was trying to hide. When she looked up, their eyes met.

And the world stopped. Not for love. Not yet. But for a different kind of heartbeat. Something between surprise and desire. Something he didn’t expect. She was… different. At least, that’s what he sensed.

Anwen was small, delicate, like she had been sculpted from porcelain. Her skin was pale and smooth, almost luminous. Her large eyes, somewhere between green and amber, reflected both intelligence and caution. Her light brown hair fell in soft waves, woven into thin braids gathered at the nape of her neck. She didn’t need jewels to stand out. She had the kind of beauty that she was not aware of. 

Meanwhile, she felt her throat go dry. Because the man she had feared so much… was infinitely more imposing—and more handsome—than she had imagined. And that terrified her even more.

_________________________________________

The great hall of Camelot was covered with golden banners and flowers brought from every corner of the kingdom. The priest’s words seemed to fade into the murmurs of the guests and the weight of destiny.

Arthur barely listened. But it was impossible not to notice Anwen. She stood beside him, wearing an ivory dress that flowed like water over her shoulders. Her hair was loose, with small braids framing her face. On her head, she wore a delicate, discreet veil, and a crown so subtle it seemed she didn’t wish to appear more imposing than the occasion required.

When the priest asked them to join hands, she hesitated for a fraction of a second—not out of disdain, but fear. Arthur felt the faint tremble in her fingers. He didn’t know what to say. So he simply looked at her. Not as a prince. Not as a husband. Simply as someone who was also trapped in a cage. 

“I promise to protect you,” he said softly, just for her. “And never force anything you don’t wish.”

Anwen’s expression shifted entirely. She gave the slightest nod, relieved.

The priest’s words continued. They marked the end of one life and the beginning of another. And when they had to kiss each other, they did it so briefly—but Arthur sensed a softness, tinged with sweetness.

The celebration was everything Uther and Edric had hoped for: music, wine, applause. Arthur stayed beside Anwen, as the protocol dictated. He offered her a glass of wine with a smile that felt more genuine than he expected. She noticed it—and responded with warmth.

“Are you all right?” she asked in a low voice.

Arthur leaned in to hear her better. Her floral scent wrapped around him.

“I’m not very used to being the center of attention,” he said, half-joking.

“Me neither.” A pause—because she knew she was about to say something bold. “But I prefer your company to their stares.”

He almost smiled. Almost.

_________________________________________

The bridal chamber was lit by soft candles and scented with lavender. “Merlin definitely did this,” Arthur cursed in his head. The silence weighed heavier than the stone walls.

They each stepped behind the screens to change out of their ceremonial attire. It was far too formal to sleep in. Separated, they took their time undressing, each one delaying the moment as long as possible. Neither offered help to the other. Anwen finished after him. She wore a simple white nightgown, made of light fabric. She stood by the bed, not knowing what to do next. Arthur remained at a distance, standing awkwardly for the first time in a long while. He couldn’t stop watching her, like he was memorizing every move that she made.

She really was beautiful. He couldn’t deny it.

“You don’t have to be afraid of me,” he said, breaking the silence.

She didn’t answer right away. She just watched as he approached—slowly, calmly.

“My mother told me about… what is expected,” she murmured. “But I don’t want to be just a duty.”

Arthur took a deep breath and gently took one of her hands.

“You’re not a duty. You’re a person. And tonight… doesn’t have to be anything you don’t want it to be.”

They were defying tradition. That night, they were supposed to consummate their marriage. But neither of them was ready. For the first time, Arthur felt like he had a choice. He didn’t want to do what was expected. He wanted to do what was right.

Their eyes met. For an instant, the walls between them fell. Arthur raised his free hand and brushed a strand of hair from her cheek. It was a small gesture—but Anwen closed her eyes, as if that touch had reached deeper than a thousand words.

“We can just… sleep,” she whispered.

“Yes.” He smiled. “A quiet night sounds perfect.”

She smiled back, shyly.

They lay down, separated by a few inches. There were no kisses, no caresses. Only the shared sound of their breathing—and a gentle tension, like a bridge not yet crossed… but slowly being built.

Thanks for reading!!