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ceoofglytchell · 13 days ago

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A Monster‘s Bride

Summary: In the middle of the war, you are urgently called to Harrenhal to finally fulfill your duty and wed the Prince Regent Aemond Targaryen. However, you have heard what man he has become and the haunted halls of the ancient castle are not the only thing you are afraid of.

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Baratheon!Reader

Word count: 5737 words

Warnings: MDNI, Angst, brief dubcon, Reader has Baratheon features, unwanted touch, mean!Aemond (at first), arranged marriage, dark fic, brief suicidal thoughts, secret longing, Alys Rivers making a cameo, brief smut at the end, no mention of Y/N

Notes: My first ever solo Aemond fic! I hope you like it! Likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated. Enjoy 💛

The first time Aemond Targaryen kissed you was the night he became a kinslayer.

He was supposed to choose one of the daughters of Lord Borros Baratheon of Storm's End to marry. He looked at all of you, all of your sisters, and leaned down to press a kiss to your lips.

You were the last.

You had watched him kiss each of your four sisters for a few seconds, but he never showed any reaction. Except maybe with Maris, when he grimaced afterwards.

And then he finally leaned toward you and pressed his lips against yours, his hand resting on your cheek. You stood still, not knowing what to do because you had never been kissed before. By no one. Not even by the stableboy you had liked for a while.

But the prince did not lean back as quickly as he had with your sisters. He sighed against your lips and ran his long fingers through your hair. When he finally pulled away and rested his forehead against yours, you could feel that he had found his answer.

"What is your name?" he whispered, out of breath.

You whispered it to him, and only then did he lean back, a small smile playing on his thin lips. It was the first and last time you would see him smile.

"Well, my prince? I hope one of my daughters is to your liking," said your father, who sat on his throne not far from you, scrutinizing you with eagle eyes.

"I want her," he replied simply, placing a hand on your shoulder, whereupon Lord Baratheon laughed softly.

"My youngest. She inherited her mother's beauty. I assure you that she will make a good wife for you."

Prince Aemond leaned back and let his one violet eye roam over your figure. He did not know how your mother had looked like, but she must have been beautiful. You were by far the most beautiful of your sisters. Long, raven-black hair, pale skin, a light blush that spread across his cheeks, and full lips that begged him to kiss them again. You proudly wore the colors of your house—black and yellow—and looked at him like a small, shy fawn.

He knew immediately that he had made the right choice.

"Please, speak to her. Even if she is quiet, I assure you she has a tongue," Lord Borros laughed, making a hand gesture that indicated to your sisters to step back.

Gently—too gently for a man of his status—he took your arm and led you a few steps away from your father's throne.

"Tell me of your interests, my Lady Baratheon," he demanded, but he did it in such a gentle tone that it did not sound like a demand. He gave you the illusion of a choice.

You hesitated, but then gathered your courage: "I enjoy reading, my prince."

Something flashed in his eye, recognition or perhaps interest. "What exactly?"

"Poetry, my prince. History and philosophy I enjoy as well," you answered him, looking down at the ground beneath your feet. The stone was cold and wet, as it often was these days.

"And beyond? Besides literature. What else excites you?" he asked you, his one watchful eye boring into your soul.

You were just opening your lips to answer him when you suddenly heard the sound of armor striding through the door. The guards had arrived, and among them was a young man—a boy.

He was brown-haired, wore a sword at his hip, held a message, and wore the colors black and red.

Your eyebrows furrowed in question, but you immediately noticed the prince's attention shifting completely away from you and his shoulders tensing.

You quickly learned who this boy was. Lucerys Velaryon. The boy who stole the eye of your betrothed. One of the many bastards of Princess Rhaenyra, who now wanted to be called Queen, even though her half-brother Aegon had only been crowned King a few hours ago.

A war was looming on the horizon, and the thunderstorm raging over Storm's End seemed to be only a harbinger.

"Give me your eye or I will take it, bastard!" your betrothed suddenly shouted, rushing toward the boy, but your father's loud voice held him back.

Lucerys disappeared as quickly as a frightened mouse, and Aemond adjusted his eyepatch, which he had apparently ripped off his face while talking to his nephew.

You did not see it because his back was to you.

Arrax flew away over Storm's End, and the One-Eyed Prince hurried off.

There was no goodbye; planning the wedding had not even been a topic of discussion.

It was not until the next morning that you discovered what monster would soon be bound to you.

Your betrothed was a kinslayer and the one responsible for the war that was about to come.

Your sisters repeatedly examined you with pity and sadness. Even in the weeks that followed, when you heard no word from the prince, they all knew that the gentle deer would soon be in the clutches of a bloodthirsty dragon.

You became fearful.

Every time you heard a guard approaching your chambers, you feared that your betrothed had come to finally claim you as his wife.

You did not want to become his wife.

Even though you could not forget the feeling of his lips on yours and longed for a gentle hand to pull you in, you were afraid of the chaos he would bring.

But he did not come.

Not even a letter reached you.

You had started one once, but you simply did not know what to write him. Why are you not coming back? Do you still want me? Has the betrothal been annulled?

You barely knew him.

Days turned into weeks, and weeks turned into months.

Your betrothed had now also murdered Princess Rhaenys and her dragon Meleys and now bore the title of Prince Regent. He was now on his way to Harrenhal to face Prince Daemon, who had already been residing there for a few weeks.

"My Lady! My Lady!"

The panicked voice of your handmaiden woke you in the middle of the night, and you sat up straight, your eyes wide and questioning.

"The Prince Regent—he has gone mad! He is burning down the entire Riverlands, and the Blacks have taken King's Landing! The king has fled, Rhaenyra now sits on the throne!" your maid explained to you, grabbing your shoulders as if she were trying to force the news into your body.

"What?" you asked her, not quite registering the words yet.

"Look!" your maid cried, jerking the curtain aside so you could look out the window.

And indeed—there were wisps of smoke in the night sky, and the distant sky was drenched red like blood.

You were the bride of a monster.

The very next morning, you emptied the entire contents of your stomach into the nearest pot at breakfast when a raven arrived with the news that the Prince Regent had slaughtered the entire House Strong.

Neither man, woman, nor child survived the massacre at Harrenhal.

You began to pray every morning, every night, that the Stranger would come for you. To you or your soon-to-be Lord Husband. You did not want to be held by hands soaked in blood.

You refused to carry the heirs of a madman.

Unfortunately, you had no choice.

The raven arrived a week later, just as the sun disappeared over the horizon, making way for the moon. Your father delivered the news to you personally.

"The Prince Regent wants you to join him at Harrenhal immediately," your father said in a monotone voice, your nails digging deeper into the leather cover of the book that lay in your lap.

"Did he write why?" you asked him, and although you tried to keep your voice as emotionless as possible, it still trembled.

"To secure the royal line of House Targaryen," Lord Borros replied, letting the small note that had been in the prince's blood-soaked hands just a few hours earlier fall into your lap.

You flinched. Slowly and carefully, as if his words contained a curse, you opened the note and ran your eyes over the dried ink.

The ink, too, looked like blood under the flickering candlelight.

The words were simple, but you could still hear his voice deep inside your head.

To Lord Borros Baratheon of Storm's End,

I hereby request the immediate presence of your daughter, my betrothed, at Harrenhal. With the pretender seizing the throne, the bloodline of House Targaryen hangs by a thread. Your daughter is needed to secure it. She will want for nothing.

May the Warrior give us strength in these times of war,

Prince Regent Aemond Targaryen

You dropped the note into your lap. Your hands trembled and you felt like you could not breathe.

"I will have your maids pack your things. A carriage will be waiting for you in the morning, daughter. Rest well," your father said before closing the door to your chambers behind him, leaving you alone again.

That night, lying alone in your bed, with the smell of your home spreading around you like a warm blanket, you considered opening the window and jump.

But were the Stranger's arms gentler than the prince's?

You closed your eyes, and in the far distance, in the cold ruins of Harrenhal, a cold-hearted prince did the same.

You dreamed of shadows haunting you. Of blood staining your dress, dripping to the floor, and carrying with every step. In your dream, you screamed when you saw him—his sword raised, flames surrounding him, his silver hair wild, his gaze mad, and his one eye resting on you and you alone.

The prince dreamed of gentle hands resting on his shoulders. Of a warm smile that could banish the cold of these corridors, and of a kiss he could not forget.

But you had one thing in common. You both awaited the morning. You with a heart full of fear, and he with a heart full of longing.

You hugged each of your sisters for several seconds before boarding the carriage. Cassandra waved goodbye to you, Maris turned away, Ellyn cried, and Floris embraced her tightly.

You were sure you would never see them again.

You traveled for thirty days.

After all, it was about seven hundred miles from Storm's End to Harrenhal, and you had to avoid King's Landing at all costs. The route took you and your guards from Storm's End northwest through the Stormlands, then through the southern Riverlands, which were still burning. The carriage passed Blackhaven; in the distance, you could see Tumbleton, from where you had continued southwest to Harrenhal.

The carriage stopped at two taverns along the way. The first was The Weary Traveler Inn, which was near a busy trade route. The food was good, and you were able to refill your water. You could also change and wash there.

On the outskirts of Tumbleton, you stopped at The Golden Stag Inn, which was even friendlier than the one before. You and the four guards who rode in the carriage to protect you stayed one night.

You knew it would be the last time you would see anything but blood and death, which is why you stayed late into the evening talking with some of the women who had sought shelter in the building after their homes burned down in the fire.

The fire your betrothed was responsible for.

You were not him and could not apologize for his actions, but when you finally left, you left behind a sack full of gold, which they would need more than you.

It was more than he would ever give.

The carriage bumped over the uneven ground, its wheels creaking under the weight of the ride and the strain. Thick fog surrounded them, creeping up from the shore of the Gods' Eye, and in the distance, the tall towers of Harrenhal loomed, almost like dark shapes, like the jagged teeth of a long-dead beast. The sun had not quite risen yet, bathing the ruins of the once-magnificent castle in a pale, sickly light.

The high stone walls loomed tall and imposing, while the ever-present whisper of the supposedly cursed place seemed to be carried on the wind. Everyone knew the rumors about this place. The dark expanse that dwelled within. You were sure that whatever dwelled there would quickly take a liking to you.

Hopefully, it would take pity on you and grant you a short stay.

As the carriage approached the gates, even the street seemed to grow colder, prompting you to pull your cloak tighter around your shoulders. The air felt stifling, heavy with the history of the recent atrocity that had begun there and the blood that stained these stones. The mounted guards rode in silence, their eyes scanning the shadows as if waiting for something—or someone—to emerge from them.

The gates of Harrenhal, massive and forged from ancient iron, loomed before you like the maw of a monstrous beast—a dragon. No banners waved here, no sign of life except the dark, watchful eyes that seemed to peer out of the broken windows in the walls. The only sounds were the muffled creak of the carriage and the soft shuffle of the horse's hooves as you reached the courtyard.

Your heart pounded in your chest. In the distance, beyond the walls, the faint call of a raven echoed through the silence. It was almost as if the air sensed something was coming. Or perhaps it was the castle itself—waiting.

No. It was he who was waiting.

You knew he was.

You took a deep breath before finally opening the carriage door and stepping out into the courtyard. The walls dripped, ravens flew over your head, but otherwise it was deathly quiet.

Your gaze wandered over your new home, where you would reside for the rest of the war, and then you saw him.

He stood high up on one of the balconies, engulfed in shadows. His pale hands gripped the railing as he looked at you and the intensity of his gaze gave you goosebumps and a lump formed in your throat. But then you noticed that he was not alone. A woman stood next to him.

You did not know who she was, but apparently he had let her live. The sole survivor of the massacre that took place in this very courtyard just a few weeks ago.

The realization that right where you were standing, people were being murdered in the most brutal of ways made your knees go weak. You stumbled to the side and would have definitely fallen to the ground if one of your guards had not grabbed your arm to steady you.

When you looked up again, the prince was gone, but the woman continued to look at you. Shadows played around her features, and for a brief moment, you thought you were staring into the eyes of death itself.

"Shall we escort you inside, My Lady?" asked the guard holding your arm. There was a hint of concern in his voice, and for a brief moment, you felt some warmth creep back into your bones.

The feeling immediately vanished when you heard hurried footsteps echoing across the stone floor.

"What is the matter with her?" The Prince Regent's sharp voice cut through the air, and when you looked up at him, you could see nothing but coldness in his one eye.

"I an afraid the journey has not been good for her, Your Grace. We have been traveling for a month," one of the guards explained to him in a calm tone.

Your eyes wandered to the sword hanging at his hip. Blackfyre. The sword Aegon the Conqueror once wielded, and which has already taken so many lives.

Vomit rose in your throat, even though you had not eaten anything that morning, and it took all your strength not to double over and empty the contents of your stomach right at the boots of your betrothed.

"Take her inside. She should rest," he instructed the guard, his tone leaving no room for questions, no opportunity for argument.

You looked up at him, and for a split second, you thought you saw a flicker of emotion on his face. However, it vanished as quickly as it had come, and you decided you must have been hallucinating.

"We will hold the wedding this afternoon in front of the Weirwood Tree. I will send for you."

A nod. That was all you gave him. Your arms brushed briefly as your guard led you past him and into the castle. You did not know which rooms were habitable or which were haunted by spirits from days long past. Let alone which room you would be sharing with your husband from tonight onward.

The mere thought of it made the fine hairs on your arms stand on end and sent shivers through your body.

"This one looks passable, My Lady," the guard said, giving you a cautious smile. At least there was one friendly person left within these cold walls.

"Thank you, Ser Garrick," you replied gratefully, closing the heavy wooden door behind you after entering the darkened rooms.

You could hear Ser Garrick walking down the corridor, and a soft sigh escaped you. You had never felt so alone in your life. Before, you always had your sisters, who annoyed you, but whom you still loved more than anything. Now you had no one.

You sat down on the bed, which was facing the wall, catapulting a load of dust into the air that made you cough. You slowly lowered your back onto the old mattress and looked up at the ceiling with tired eyes. Some shapes and symbols seemed to be carved into the wood above the bed, but you did not know what they meant. Your eyes suddenly became so heavy.

You blinked and suddenly you fell into a deep sleep.

The journey had probably just tired you out too much.

A sudden noise in the chambers startled you. The woman you had seen standing up on the balcony earlier was now standing not far in front of you. In her hands was a bowl from which steam rose. It smelled of tea, but something inside you doubted that this stranger would bring you tea just like that.

"Who are you?" you finally asked her as you cautiously sat up.

"I am Alys," she replied. She simply reached out and held out the bowl to you. "A tea to combat the tiredness from the long journey."

You hesitated as you accepted the bowl from her. Your fingers touched for a split moment, and not a second later, your hands began to tremble. It had suddenly become so cold.

"I have prepared a bath for you in the prince's chambers. You do not want to show up dirty at your own wedding, do you?"

"Are you his maid?" you asked instead, without answering her concern. The bath could wait. So could the wedding.

"Something like that," she answered, taking a few steps away from the bed you were still sitting on. "Drink. Otherwise, it will get cold and lose its potency."

You did not want to drink it, but for some reason, you did anyway. The liquid left a bitter taste on your tongue and burned its way down your throat. It should have felt soothing, but it did not.

"He let you live. Why?" you asked her, confused. The Prince Regent did not seem like a gracious man to you.

"I cannot say. I do not know what is going on in his head."

You nodded and took another sip from your cup. The tea stained your lips purple.

The woman, Alys, now stood with her back to you. Her hair was even blacker than yours, like the darkest onyx.

"But I told him I was once a wet nurse. Perhaps I can still be of value to you, My Lady," she said suddenly, and your hands immediately tightened around the wood of the bowl.

"It will be so lovely to hear these empty halls filled with children's laughter again."

You placed the bowl, still half full, on the bed next to you and stood up on unsteady legs. She was taller than you and quite a bit older, although you could not say exactly how old she was. She seemed infinitely old, yet young at the same time.

A dark suspicion spread within you, but you did not want to think about it right now.

"Where are his chambers?" you asked her, trying to make your voice sound as authoritative as possible. You were sure the attempt failed miserably because she turned to you with a knowing smile on her thin lips.

"Follow me."

Without another word, she walked past you and out the door, and you followed her with quick steps. The prince's chambers were not far from the rooms you had initially chosen. Alys opened the door, and you were amazed to see how well the room was. In fact, there was even a fire burning in the fireplace.

In the middle of the room stood a large tub, from which white steam rose into the air. The water seemed hot, and a smile crept involuntarily onto your lips. A healing bath was exactly what your muscles needed right now.

"Shall I help you undress?"

"No," you answered a little faster than necessary, to which the woman simply chuckled.

"Very well, My Lady. Your wedding dress is on the bed. Call if you need help getting dressed," she said, and immediately hurried back out of the room. The door closed with a loud bang behind her, before you could ask her how she would hear you if you actually called for her.

But you were now glad she was gone. She was frightening.

Your black dress with the yellow embroidery of little deer and antlers landed on the armchair in front of the fireplace, followed by your thin chemise and stockings.

The bathwater was still hot when you finally stepped in, and you could not help but sigh with relief. It felt a lot better than the tea, and you could immediately feel your muscles relaxing and a weight lifting from your shoulders.

But you were not relaxed. Not when you were about to marry the prince in the not-too-distant future. The white dress spread out in the middle of the bed was a constant reminder of that.

The bed. You did not want to think about what would happen right there later. On those sheets. Right where the dress lay, you would lie later.

At least you would be spared a bedding ceremony, you thought.

You washed yourself as best you could with the single bar of soap that was lying next to the tub. It smelled neither of roses, nor lilacs, nor any other scent you could identify.

You were not sure how long you bathed. All you knew was that as you dried yourself with an old, scratchy towel that smelled of old books, leather, and smoke, the sun was slowly setting outside.

It was almost time.

You quickly dried your naked body and untied your hair, which you had tied back to keep it from getting wet. You slipped into your undergarment, stockings, and shoes, and finally cleared your throat.

You opened the door a little and called for Alys.

She came in a few minutes later, and you were surprised to see that she had also done some tidying up. Her hair seemed more combed, and she was no longer wearing the dirty apron she had been wearing before.

"It has been a long time since I was last able to attend a wedding," she said simply, as she helped you step into the dress and tightened the laces at the back with nimble fingers. The bodice was so tight that you could barely breathe.

"Where did you even get that dress? I doubt there are any seamstresses left around here," you asked her, a hint of curiosity in your tone, trying not to curse as the older woman pulled one of the laces too tight again. It was almost as if she wanted you to suffer.

"It belonged to one of the Strongs. I do not remember which one," she said, smoothing your hair over your shoulders with surprising gentleness, letting it fall in soft waves down your back.

Your stomach lurched. You were wearing the dress of a dead woman.

Alys stood in front of you and placed her hands on her hips, examining her work. "He will like you. He has been waiting for you, you know? Told me about you in the nights while I made him tea."

Your eyes widened and you blinked. You did not know whether to be flattered or even more terrified than you already were. If he was waiting, then he had expectations. What if you could not fulfill them?

"He told you about me?" you asked, adjusting the sleeves of your dress.

The woman in front of you nodded her head, grinning. "He told me about the moment he chose you. He said you tasted the sweetest of all your sisters."

A blush flooded your cheeks and you immediately looked down at the ground. After all these weeks and months, he could still remember the taste of your lips? The feeling he had when he did it?

You could not believe this was the same man whose hands were soaked with the blood of hundreds of innocents.

"Are you ready?" her voice suddenly startled you from your thoughts, and you simply nodded.

Together, you both walked through the cold, empty, and wet halls of Harrenhal. Drops of water fell on your shoulder, you walked past a black billy goat, and you felt like thousands of eyes were staring at you, even though there were hardly any souls left in these halls.

The evening air was cold, but not unpleasant, when you finally stepped out into the courtyard with the older woman. Aemond Targaryen was already standing in front of the Weirwood Tree. The wind gently blew a few strands of his silver hair, and the setting sun cast a golden light on him and the tree, whose leaves shone red.

Only Alys noticed that the tree's face had finally stopped crying.

Next to the prince stood an elderly man dressed like a Septon of the Faith of the Seven. You wanted to ask where this man came from, since there was no Sept in the immediate vicinity, but you bit your tongue.

The Prince Regent seemed to have been waiting for this moment, and you did not want to ruin it. After all, you did not want to taste his wrath.

Alys let go of your arm and stood not far from you. Aemond's eye briefly flicked to the woman, and he gave her a nod- one of gratitude for her service.

"My prince," you greeted him, curtsying slightly to show his respect.

"My lady," he replied, extending a hand, which you hesitantly took.

You both turned to the Septon, who looked at you with an almost fatherly smile on his lips.

"We stand before the Old Gods, under the watchful eye of the Weirwood, to unite your hearts and your destinies. May you remain true to one another, in joy and sorrow, until the end of your days," the Septon began in a solemn tone. The wind in the courtyard began to shift, and it almost felt as if you felt a warm hand on your shoulder.

The older man pulled a red ribbon from his robe, which he carefully and patiently tied around your hands. Compared to the prince's, your hands were small and delicate.

He looked down at you, you looked up at him, and in that moment you thought you could see the ghost of a smile on his lips. Not a malicious smile or a cruel one, but a genuine one.

"You may speak now," said the Septon, once he had finished tying your hands together.

Aemond straightened his back and brought his other hand to your face, cupping your chin with two fingers so that you would not look away from him. He wanted to look you in the eye as he swore this oath to you.

"I am hers and she is mine," he spoke in a firm, confident voice.

For a moment, you just looked at him and swallowed the lump in your throat. A breeze flew over you, rustling the red leaves of the tree. From somewhere in the distance, an owl hooted.

"I am his and he is mine," you finally replied, but unlike his, your voice was soft and quiet.

It was a sound Aemond would call music.

The Septon placed his old, wrinkled hands over both of yours. They were ice cold.

"May the ancient gods watch over you, may your hearts be one, and may your love grow as old as the trees themselves," he announced, and even though you did not want to, you could not help but give your husband the slightest smile.

"You may now kiss the bride."

Your shoulders tensed, and Aemond sensed from the way your delicate hand twitched beneath his ever so slightly that you were nervous. He did not want you to feel that way in his presence. You were now his Lady Wife.

He leaned down slowly, carefully, as if you were a wounded deer that he now had to tend to: "Do not be afraid."

Your eyes moved down to his lips.

"I am not afraid," you whispered, a lie.

"Good. Because I do not want you to be afraid of me. Never, do you hear?"

You nodded your head. His warm breath brushed your cheek, and you instinctively leaned closer to him, seeking his warmth, while he could not wait any longer. Aemond closed the last distance between you two and pressed his lips against yours, while his free hand cupped your face.

Your lips were warm and soft, and you tasted just as sweet as he remembered. Fresh wild berries and something he would associate with you alone.

He sighed into the kiss, and you tentatively kissed him back, but that alone was enough to show him that you accepted him. You wanted him.

He only broke the kiss when he had no more air in his lungs, and even then, he rested his forehead against yours, for he could not bear to be parted from you any longer. Your breath came in short gasps, and your eyes roamed over his face, and for the first time, you saw him.

You did not see the monster that set the Riverlands ablaze, killed his nephew, and wiped out an entire bloodline. You saw the man behind it, and you found that you liked what you saw.

"Come with me."

Not a question, a command.

He untied the band that had been wrapped around your hands until just a moment ago and let it fall to the dirty ground in the shadow of the tree's roots, where the wind would soon carry it away. It would probably land in the Gods' Eye and disappear into the depths of the lake, never to be found.

Your husband intertwined his fingers with yours and led you, guided by his hand, back into the castle, where you already knew what awaited you.

Behind you, the Septon disappeared as if he had never been there.

Alys smiled and stroked her owl.

He was just closing the door to his—your—chambers behind you when his lips were back on yours.

"My prince—" you tried to say. "My husband, please."

"What is it, wife?" he murmured against your lips as he pushed you toward the large canopy bed.

He just could not stop kissing you. It was impossible.

"I need air," you protested, a small laugh escaping you. It was one of the most beautiful sounds his ears had ever heard.

His arms wrapped around your waist as his lips traveled down your neck, exploring every inch. Every single one.

„Better?“ he whispered as the backs of your knees touched the bed.

He gently bit into your warm flesh, eliciting a surprised gasp. No, that was his new favorite sound.

He wondered how sweetly you could else sing for him?

His hands smoothed the fabric of the white dress up your legs, desperate to get the fabric off you. He has been wondering for weeks what you would look like without it. Ever since the first time you kissed and you looked at him like a wounded little deer, he knew he could not resist you.

After arriving at Harrenhal, he had invited the witch into his bed to vent his frustration, but the moment her lips had touched his, he had pushed her away. Instead, he had talked about you.

The witch was a good listener, and that was why he let her live.

But he only wanted you.

Your arms wrapped around his neck and your fingers dug into his silky, silver hair, resembling the light of a full moon. The feeling sent an incredible heat through his chest, making him wonder if it had not been a dragon that had bathed him in flames, like he had the Riverlands.

He took satisfaction in the fact that they were still burning.

He pushed you down onto the bed and immediately climbed over you, his hands roaming up and down your curves, his lips exploring your neck, and you writhing beneath him.

You were about to lose yourself in his kisses and the feeling of his body's warmth when you suddenly felt his dagger pressing into your hip. The dagger he intended to use to attack his nephew, a sign of the violence and storm he carried within him.

Even now when he was laying with you.

The monster might have looked at you with a gaze full of gentleness, but it still slumbered within him.

The same hands that now touched you and ran over your body as if you were something precious had murdered and committed cruel acts just a few weeks ago.

His eye met yours, and he looked at you with such intensity that you could not help but lose yourself in him. You were a gentle breeze on a sunny day, he was the thunderstorm that followed.

He was what you were missing.

"Wife?" he asked you, his voice dripping with desire.

"Yes, husband?" you asked him, breathless.

"May I?"

He gave you the choice.

You nodded and he began to rip open the laces of your bodice with a sense of urgency and need.

And shorty after, when he thrusted in and out of you, your legs wrapped around his waist and his cock buried deep inside of your cunt, while he whispered of filling you up with his seed- you realized something.

Perhaps being loved by a monster was not as bad as you had thought.

The Divider is from the wonderful @zaldritzosrose !

Taglist: @bey0nd-1he-stars @sassypain @hisfavegirl @dahaenatargaryen @sylasthegrim @danytar

#house of the dragon #hotd #hotd fanfic #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x reader #aemond x fem!reader #aemond x you #aemond targaryen x you #ewan mitchell

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starrygazers · 2 months ago

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swords, crowns, and everything in between.

˖ ࣪⭑ ⸱ haiii I'm back! I wanted to write a short drabble royalty au love triangle between Mydei and Phainon but this ended up longer. also trying out a new format lmk if you guys like it lol.

˖ ࣪⭑ ⸱ tags : royalty au, love triangle, angst (if you squint)

˖ ࣪⭑ ⸱ featuring : PRINCE! Mydei, KNIGHT! Phainon.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

MYDEIMOS, who is introduced to you as the Crowned Prince of Amphoreus, your future husband. Your father had made arrangements for your marriage, a necessary political move, given that your kingdom is not as remarkable in military prowess.

MYDEIMOS, who, on the way to Okhema, tells you about the Marmoreal Palace, where he resides, and where you’ll eventually call home. About how cold the nights are, and that should you need extra coats, you should inform the maids.

PHAINON, who greets you with a bow when you reach the front of Marmoreal Palace. MYDEIMOS introduces him as the head of the Chrysos Knights, protectors of Amphoreus. He tells you that PHAINON will be here to protect you.

MYDEIMOS, who leads you to your chambers. When you open the door, you’re surprised to see it’s decorated with relics of your own kingdom. Traditional dressing table by the bed, and paintings of your castle. You turn to MYDEIMOS, thanking him sincerely. In return, he clears his throat and looks away.

PHAINON, who knocks on your door in the mornings to bring you breakfast. He is your companion when MYDEIMOS isn’t available, which is most days. As long as he is there to escort you, you are free to explore Okhema as you wish.

PHAINON, who seems more excited than you every time you try a new food stall at Marmoreal Market. He does not let you pay for anything, because MYDEIMOS has taken care of shouldering all your expenses.

MYDEIMOS, who isn’t one for idle chit-chat, but slowly starts asking you about how your day went during suppers — an effort to bridge the chasm that separates you and the cold Prince. Suppers are now one of the times in the day you look forward to the most.

PHAINON, who always checks on you after his nightly patrols. Many times, he catches you longing for home, sometimes drowning in your own tears. He drags a chair by your bed and holds your hand, slowly caressing your hair until you drift to sleep.

MYDEIMOS, who on his off days, invites you to the library, where you can read about the extensive history of the Eternal Land of Amphoreus while he does his paperwork. When you notice him start to furrow his brows even deeper than usual, you brew him a tea from your homeland. He gives you a sheepish thank you.

PHAINON, who you excitedly share stories about your homeland to. He is a great listener, always eager to hear more about what your life was like before Amphoreus. PHAINON makes an effort to study simple phrases in your language in hopes of making you laugh, because he thinks that your laugh is a beautiful melody.

PHAINON, who somehow manages to get his hands on a cookbook from your kingdom, and excitedly picks out fresh produce with you from the Palace greenhouse to cook your favorite meals together.

MYDEIMOS, who starts to notice you mentioning PHAINON more and more when you’re telling him about your daily routine during supper. He grips his fork tighter every time you mention the captain’s name, the things you did with him, how much fun you’re having exploring the city with PHAINON.

PHAINON, who furrows his brows when he sees MYDEIMOS in front of your door in the morning. Usually, PHAINON is the last one you see before you close your eyes, and the first one who greets you when you open your eyes. So why was the Prince here before him?

MYDEIMOS, who orders PHAINON to put away the breakfast tray and instead pass on his message to the cook to prepare a basketful of food. When PHAINON asks about the occassion, MYDEIMOS only gives a short curt answer about how he will be out the Palace that day.

MYDEIMOS, who greets you with a new dress when you wake up. You’re taken aback by the sudden gesture, and when you ask what it’s for, he tells you that he’s inviting you for a picnic.

PHAINON, who waves to you as the carriage leaves, leaving him behind in the Palace. He curls his fist and takes a deep breath: what is he thinking? You’re betrothed to his prince, he should not be feeling anything towards you, though that’s easier said than done. Even if you had felt the same things towards him, PHAINON could never give you the life you deserve — he’s no prince. He doesn’t have the power to give you the life of comfort you deserve.

MYDEIMOS, who listens intently as you tell him about the meal you cooked with PHAINON the other day, praising the knight to be an adept cook. He nods at the things you say, but in his head, MYDEIMOS is thinking about how happier you seem to be with PHAINON. Of course you would choose the friendly, caring knight over the broken prince, unable to express his emotions. Could he ever be the husband you deserve?

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

check out my other royalty au works on my masterlist!

˖ ࣪⭑ ⸱ if you liked this, consider buying me a ko-fi! (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶) .ᐟ.ᐟ

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thatdesigirl17 · 4 months ago

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sweater weather

bsf!mattheo riddle x fem!reader

based on the song sweater weather by the neighbourhood

warnings: language, smoking, smut, pinv, soft!mattheo

Mattheo led Y/N through the castle's corridors, ‘Matty, where are we going?’ It was way past curfew and her best friend’s persistent knocks on her dorm room disturbed her sleep. Y/N was sleepy and grumpy. ‘You’ll see, just a couple more minutes, Y/N.’, he answered as he turned around a corner. ‘I swear to Merlin Matty, just tell me already. I’m missing my sleep for this!’, she said. ‘Keep your voice down, it’s past curfew. And don’t act like you can’t lose a little sleep over me.’, he said, even his voice was smug which made Y/N roll her eyes.

After walking out of the castle, to the Black Lake, Mattheo stopped, not letting go of her hand yet. ‘Okay we’re here.’, he said as he turned to face her. ‘What? Care to tell me why the fuck did you bring me out near the black lake in the middle of the night? While I was asleep!’, she said, looking around and not finding anything special. ‘God, you are so grumpy when you are sleepy and oblivious.’, he remarked, smirking, which further annoyed Y/N. She glared at him, tilting her head slightly. Mattheo seemed to get her message as he continued, ‘Okay, look.’

She turned to see where he had gestured. On the edge of the lake, a boat was sitting. ‘That’s unusual, they don’t have boats lying around the lake.’, she said, turning again to face him. ‘Come on.’, he said prompting her to follow him to the boat as he got in and then helped her in. As they sat on two separate ledges on the boat, facing each other, Y/N noticed something lying on the floor of the boat in between, ‘What’s this?’

‘Remember last week, when you made me watch that muggle animated film you loved so much?’, Mattheo asked as he set the boat afloat in the waters of the Black Lake. The water shimmering under the light of the full moon, casting a perfect glow. ‘Tangled?’, she asked, nodding. ‘Yeah, and how you’ve always loved the scene with the floating lights?’, he said, his eyes sparkling. ‘No you didn’t!’, she said excitedly, any trace of sleep vanishing from her body. Mattheo shrugged and grinned with pride. Y/N huffed in surprise and quickly took the paper lantern that was on the floor. ‘Oh my god, Matty! It’s perfect!’, she chimed, her eyes widening in excitement. He smiled looking at her reaction as they reached the middle of the lake. He helped her get the lantern ready, as he fished out his lighter from the pocket, ‘Wanna do the honours, love?’ She grinned taking the lighter from his hands and lighting the inflammable piece below the lantern to fill it up with hot air as Mattheo carefully held the rest of the lantern up. Once it was filled, they both slowly let it go. The lantern glided in the night sky, illuminating the both of them further in the warm glow. Y/N looked up, eyes focused on the lantern as it floated in the night sky, the sight enough to make her smile. Mattheo, on the other hand, looked at Y/N the warm glow making her look ethereal in his eyes.

Y/N looked at him as she smiled and slowly sat beside him, pulling in a hug. ‘Thank you so much, Matty, you didn’t have to do that. But I’m so glad you did. This is the best moment of my life.’, she said, pressing a soft kiss on his cheek. ‘I’d do anything for you, Y/N.’, he said, his voice low, as he kissed her forehead. He let one of his arms remain wrapped around her as she leaned in, settling in his comfortable embrace, her eyes returning to the lantern afloat in the sky.

Mattheo whipped out a joint from his pocket, placing it between his lips and lighting it. He took a drag, exhaling as the smoke surrounded them. He leant back slightly, his eyes looking up and taking in the night sky. He took another drag and passed it on to Y/N. He watched as she placed the joint in between her lips, taking a drag and then exhaling.

They smoked in comfortable silence, the drug slowly starting to take its effect. ‘Y/N?’, Mattheo called out, looking down at her. She turned to look at him, her chin resting on his shoulder. The close proximity made his eyes wander to her lips for a moment, as he continued, ‘I want to tell you something.’ ‘What is it?’, she asks, a lazy smile spreading across her face. Mattheo searches her eyes as he gathers the courage, and just as he’s about to speak, the rain starts pouring down, heavily, drowning them. Y/N squeals as they quickly take the boat back to the edge. They get out of the boat quickly and run towards the castle, holding each other's hands as they giggle. As they reach the covered space, their footsteps click, the water trickling down them. They run a hand through their hair which sticks to their forehead.

‘Who’s there?’, a voice disturbs them, the soft glow of a wand visible around the corner as Mattheo takes Y/N’s hand and leads them behind a pillar, shielding them from the prefect making their rounds.

Mattheo turns his head, looking at the light slowly travelling away from them as his back is pressed to the pillar. He sighs and turns his head, looking at Y/N.

His eyes roam around her, taking in the sight in front of him. Y/N, with her wet hair, her jumper and shorts clinging to her skin and her hand still intertwined with his. His eyes flicker back to her face, the water droplets trickling down her soft skin. He holds her gaze as he takes in what her eyes are trying to say to him. She knows what he’s thinking about. His eyes flicker down to a droplet of water that flows down her lower lip, as she parts them slightly, breathing. The sight along with his high senses makes him lose all the control he has, giving him a newfound courage. In a blink’s time, his hand snakes around her waist as the goosebumps start to raise on their skins and her breath is taken away as he crashes his lips onto hers.

Their lips move in sync, dancing to a perfect rhythm as they fit against each other perfectly. She pulls him by his neck, deepening the kiss as his other hand goes up to the base of her neck. They pull away breathing heavily, still pressed against each other. ‘My dorm.’, he whispers as she nods. He quickly turns them, his hand resting on her waist as they walk hurriedly to his dorm.

‘What about others?’, she asks as they near his dorm, referring to his dorm mates. ‘Just us, love. They’re out.’, he says as he opens the door and shuts it, locking it and pressing her to the door. He kisses her hungrily and she returns it with just as much fervour. He starts kissing down her jaw, leaving open-mouthed kisses on the already wet skin as he trails down her neck, biting and sucking marking her. A shiver runs down her spine as he tastes her skin, the feeling similar to any addiction for the both of them.

The fire trickles in the fireplace keeping the inside warm while the rain continues to cast down outside. They walk to the bed, kissing any part of the skin they can find. Mattheo slowly pulls back, his fingers toying with the hem of her sweater as he pulls it above her head, revealing more of her. ‘No shirt, good girl.’, he remarks, his eyes drinking the sight of her, standing bare in front of him. His hands slowly rake up her body, exploring the foreign curves, mapping them out. He feels her shudder against him. He pulls her closer, one of his hands tangling in her hair as he leans in closer. ‘You feel cold, love? Lemme help with that.’, he whispers as his thumb traces her lower lip. She parts them giving access to his thumb as she sucks on them. ‘You like the taste of that?’, he teases, a smirk gracing his lips.

He pulls back, taking off his jumper and pulls her back in. Their skin pressed against each other, providing the warmth they both desperately searched for as their lips met again. Y/N unzips his pants and pulls them down as Mattheo gets rid of them. He lays her down on the bed, his body hovering above hers. He hooks his fingers in the waistband of her shorts and pulls it down, now leaving her completely bare before him. He rests his forehead against her, his eyelashes tickling her skin, ‘Tell me you want this Y/N.’ She brings her hand, cupping his cheek, caressing it, ‘I want this, Mattheo. I want you.’

He captures her lips in a bruising kiss, as he slowly enters her, a moan eliciting from her lips. Her warm walls welcome his hard length, engulfing him and squeezing him. ‘Fuck, you feel so much better than imagined.’, he groans as he slowly starts moving. Y/N breathes heavily, moaning and gasping with every thrust as Mattheo splits her apart. She feels so full of him, her mind clouded by the feeling of him. She wraps her legs around his waist, heels digging into his skin, pushing him deeper in her. ‘Fuck, you’re divine.’, he moans as he picks up the pace, fucking her hard. He brought her hand up, intertwining their fingers as he pressed a kiss to the back of it. His movements drive her crazy as she shuts her eyes relishing in the pleasure. Mattheo groans at the sight, redoubling his efforts, craving to increase the noises she makes. His hand moves in between them, rubbing circles on her clit, making her clench around him and moaning even louder. ‘Mattheo, I-‘, she gasps. ‘I know baby, come for me. I’ve got you.’, he encourages her as she moans loudly cumming on him. He continues his ministrations prolonging her high and chasing his release as he buries himself inside her, moaning as he comes in her. He pulls out and lays beside her, pulling her into his embrace, and keeping her warm. ‘That was fucking incredible.’, he says kissing her forehead. ‘You’re fucking incredible.’, she breathes out, smiling up at him. He smiles back, his hand tracing soft patterns on her skin, ‘I love you, Y/N. I have for a while now.’ Her smile widens as a blush creeps up on her cheeks, ‘I love you too, Mattheo.’

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gghostwriter · 8 months ago

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i saw you opened your fluff requests so how about this: reid recieves an invitation to a high-school reunion back in Vegas but he doesn't want to go because of his bad childhood. but his best friend (who is completely in love with him) convinces him to go, and offers to be his fake girlfriend to hype him up and make him feel more comfortable. he agrees and ends up confessing his love on the same football field he was bullied on

please feel no pressure to write this, it's just an idea i thought was cute

Spencer Reid x Fem! Reader Trope: Friends to lovers; Fluff with a mix of pining wc: 2.1k A/N: Reader is not part of the BAU, but she just still work for the FBI. By far, this is my longest request written (it's a chapter length) and I don't know how it became so long but I hope you enjoy it still! Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated 💗 Main masterlist

Rewriting History. // Spencer Reid

It was the heavy scent of books and wood that welcomed you home. Street lights reflecting off the emerald green walls, bathing the apartment space a warm golden hue. There was peace and stillness, your roommate of two years, Spencer Reid, nowhere to be seen—a usual occurrence that came with his and your job too, being FBI agents under the BAU and CACU, respectively.

You sluggishly made your way to your bedroom, adjacent Spencer’s closed door. Flipping open the switch, your worn body collapsed on the plush vanity chair as thoughts about the darkness of your job slip away and get replaced with melancholy on your connection with the boy genius. It was a relationship nurtured by grueling times in the academy—a connection forged out of convenience at first before becoming this convoluted and intimate bond all because you ended up falling for him.

It wasn’t a conscious choice and Spencer didn’t make it any easier. He was a closed off castle complete with a moat and a secret password—painfully shy and awkward in nature. If it wasn’t for required partnership in physical classes, you doubted you’d get as close as you were now.

A beep brought you out of your musings.

And as if he knew you were thinking of him, it was a text message from Spencer informing you of his return home in a few minutes.

With a sigh, you pushed yourself out of the chair and changed into a set of clothes—a faded Caltech tee, that you never returned, and a pair of black leggings

Padding across to the kitchen, you opened the refrigerator and silently thanked your past self for prepping dinner for two in advance. With how irregular both your schedules were and Spencer’s apparent lack of skill in cooking, it fell upon your shoulders to make sure he isn’t living off of cold pizzas and Chinese takeouts.

As the second plate of food was heating up in the microwave, the chiming of keys softly echoed from outside the mahogany door.

“Hey Spencer,” you called out from the kitchen counter.

A series of rustles and a soft hey answered back.

You tilted your head to the side in contemplation, something was wrong and as he turned the corner, shoulders curving in on itself and brows furrowed, something must definitely be wrong.

“Tough case?” You asked, bringing both plates to the rounded dinner table.

“Yeah—” Spencer shook his head. “Actually no, not really but I got an email from Las Vegas.”

Your spoonful of soup hung midair, immediately concerned with the email contents. “Is it your mom? Is she okay?’

Having visited Diana in numerous occasions with and without Spencer, you’ve learned to love that woman fiercely too. She was a breath of fresh air—blunt during her lucid days and smart during her academic lectures.

“It’s from my high school, an invitation for the reunion.”

Ah. “And you’re not sure if you want to go?”

He shrugged, chewing his slice of chicken before answering. “There’s really no one I want to reconnect with, you know. No happy memories really.”

“That’s true,” you nodded along.

During the first few nights moving in the apartment, Spencer had shared the lows he had to go through just to get to where he was now at such a young age—endlessly mocked for being a geek, no friend group or single confidant to watch his back, and the utter humiliation of being tied naked on a football post. You had an inkling that the genius had gone through bullying, it was a sad norm in all schools, especially in public, but hearing it first hand had brought home just how much of his closed off and shy personality was a product of his trials.

You tapped your fingers on the table. “I think you should go.”

“What?”

“Yeah, yeah. To show all those mean bullies where you are now,” your back straightening from the idea. “They’ll talk about you in passing anyway, whether you’re there or not so might as well be there to show them up and defend yourself plus—” you paused, taking a sip of water before barreling through. “—you’ve become quite handsome since then. Don’t you think?”

His hazel eyes widened in surprise, further adding to his appeal. Spencer was so innocent that he didn’t know the effect he had on women—first evidence was yourself and the second was Lila Archer. “Y-you think I’ve become handsome?”

With warmth spreading on your cheeks, you nodded. “You’ve always been handsome to me.”

Spencer started coughing, hand beating on his chest as the food threatened to go down the wrong tube.

Alarmed, you quickly stood up and started patting his back for assistance. How embarrassing was this—the first time you blatantly flirted with the man you formed intense attraction for ends up with him almost choking. Was this a sign maybe to not push your luck? You’ve done just about anything to nudge Spencer’s mind in acknowledging your feelings, from remembering all his little quirks (all were just so cute), actively listening to his tangents (all very informative and interesting), and even sometimes delivering a box of donuts to his team (all in the name of seeing his face brighten up) but none seemed to have worked. So, you opted to tell him in words and look what that did to him.

You gnawed on your lower lip. Maybe it was best to pull back, maybe it was best to throw in��

He cleared his throat before his hand reached yours situated on his shoulder. There was a slight tremor before it closed around your all of a sudden clammy palm. “I’ll go if you go with me.”

Filter off your brain. “As a fake girlfriend type of thing?”

You shut your eyes closed, promising to yourself to stop reading those unrealistic romance novels that Penelope lends you.

“If—if you want,” his voice shaky and soft as rustles could be heard in the background.

Opening your eyes, Spencer was now fully facing you. Eyes roaming your face and body—profiling you.

A small smile graced your lips. “Okay.”

———

The second thing your brain thought of was how oddly fitting that the reunion was held at the school gym, located beside the football field. The first thought being how Spencer looked devastatingly handsome in his suit and tie.

His attire wasn’t that different from his usual in the FBI but there was a hidden meaning behind his choices. The patterned brown blazer was a gift you had given to him for his first anniversary working at the FBI and his tie matched the color of your dress.

It made you feel warm even though a shiver went down your spine as a sudden gust of wind passed by.

Spencer slid closer towards you. “Do you want my coat?”

“I’m alright, thanks for asking Spence,” you looked up, smiling in reassurance. The fairy lights hung in rows emphasized how structured his face was. A high nose bridge, similar to his mother’s, and high cheekbones that made your fingers twitch in want to caress. He was stunning to look at—a view you feared you’d never get enough of.

“Spencer Reid!” A booming male voice shouted from across the gymnasium causing a few heads to swivel. Based on the other attendees reactions—giving them ample space as they passed and the stares tracking their every move, you knew who he was right away. A former bully.

“How are you?” he reached out his hand for a handshake. One that Spencer stared at before bringing his hand up to a wave, lips in a tight lipped smile.

“Hey Paul, nice to see you.”

“Is it?” He chuckled before turning his eyes on you. “I don’t believe we’ve met.”

You stated out your name, tone very similar when you’re on the field—cold and professional.

“Look at you, Spencer, having such a pretty girlfriend. Heard you work for the FBI now, is that how you two met?”

A saccharine smile spread across your lips. Your boy genius had been stiff ever since Paul called out his name. Having have heard how Spencer once reacted to a case where the unsub was a high school victim, you knew where his mind was at the moment. Grappling with the hurt from the past and trying his best not to lash out from the scars it had left behind. “Yeah, we met at the Academy and just clicked. He was such a gentleman that I couldn’t say no when he asked me out for a date.”

“That’s good to hear. Listen, man, is it alright if I talk to you for a second? Alone?”

You brushed the back of your hand with his, bringing his attention to you. There was a slight furrow in between his brows and his stature was taut, like a stretched out bow that needs to release it’s arrow. This was one of the few times, you could tell, that Spencer was unsure what to do. There was no malice behind Paul’s request and although you weren’t a profiler yourself, the slight hunch on the former bully’s shoulder silently communicated his remorse.

Spencer’s eyes trained on yours and as if he found the answer within the depths of your gaze, he slightly smiled, squeezing your hand in his before turning back and nodding to the interloper.

“I’ll go get a refill,” you lifted your empty cup to excuse yourself.

In truth, you stood idly near the punch bowl and kept your eyes glued on the male duo. Paul was looking down, shuffling his feet, before taking a deep breath and looking straight at Spencer. He uttered a few words you couldn’t make of and in turn, Spencer’s body relaxed and he nods once. With an offer for a handshake, one that Spencer shook, Paul walked away as you made your way back to your partner’s side.

“Good talk?” you asked.

“He apologized,” Spencer muttered, eyes studying you before grasping your hand back to his. “No refill?”

You shrugged. “Didn’t feel like it anymore. Say Spence—” he titled his head as an answer. “Want to get out of here?”

He chuckled, eyes twinkling with relief. “Thought you’d never ask.”

———

The cicadas were singing their tune as you and Spencer stepped out to the football field. The grass lush in color and the faint smell of wet earth wafted around. Grateful that you opted to wear sensible flats rather than the high heels Penelope was bartering you to wear, you held Spencer’s hand tight as he started recollecting the worst bullying that happened in the same place many years ago.

“That—” he pointed at the goalpost on the far right. “—was where I was left tied up. I remember feeling worried that I would catch hypothermia as the rain kept coming and going that day and I remember feeling sad when I got home and my mother didn’t notice me missing.”

Your voice caught in your throat.

He continued on. “They say people forget events as they grow older and I wished I had the luxury of that.”

“Because of your eidetic memory,” you sighed. It was a blessing and a curse to have.

“But I was thinking, maybe I could rewrite it instead?”

There was a thick layer of hope behind his words causing you to turn, fully facing him this time.

“I—I’ve been keeping a secret from you for 24 months and 182 days and I don’t know if this would change our relationship or ruin it but you’re my person, my best friend—” he took a deep breath. “—and I’m in love with you.”

People say there are moments in your life that would upend everything as you know it and tilt everything to an axis, you never understood what they meant by that, up until this moment. The twinkling night stars suddenly appeared brighter, the temperature warmer, and the force that tethered you to Earth was no longer gravity, it was now Spencer Reid.

You smiled, eyesight blurring from tears. His trembling fingers reached out to wipe the droplets making its path down your cheeks.

“I’m in love with you too, Spencer Reid, since the beginning.”

And as if the world needed more proof, he smiled—his bright, full teeth smile and you felt your heart halt before starting back up again.

It was proof that he owned the beating organ in your chest and all the emotion that came with it.

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

#spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fic #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfiction #dr spencer reid #spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid request #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x reader

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halfway-happyyy · 26 days ago

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this is gonna sound goofy but could you perhaps write something where reader sort of picks up franks mannerisms over time? i dont know if its a neurodivergent thing but i keep catching myself doing his little agitated jaw tense or squint and i feel like he would find it so endearing :))

anyways i love your work so much have a lovely day :))

what a sweet message, thank you so much for sending it. i hope you're having a lovely day as well!

this is not goofy at all - in fact, it's a very lovely thought, and it's making me very soft indeed.

i'm gonna go ahead and say that frank notices it before you do, and it's just one of those days where nothing is going the right way. maybe it's the full moon; maybe mercury's in retrograde again, who the hell knows. he's settled back against the couch, haphazardly watching a yankees game, but when your phone rings for the umpteenth time that afternoon, he watches you answer it.

he can tell right away that the conversation's not going the way you'd like it to. it's in the set line of your jaw; so familiar to his own traits that it takes his breath away for a moment. he shakes his head, driving the thought from his mind. there was no way you guys had been together so long that you were now starting to adopt his mannerisms...

"no, I spoke to someone earlier about this, and if you're not able to help me, I don't blame you at all, but I'd really like to speak with someone who can."

he glances up from the game just in time to see your eyes narrow to a frustrated squint, and it causes a breathless guffaw to burst from him.

you wait another fifteen minutes on the line, just for the person on the other end to hang up on you. with a frustrated sigh, you drop down onto the vacant spot of couch beside frank, and curl up into his side.

"that good, huh?" he murmurs, his fingertips tracing lazy lines up and down your arm.

staring into the void of space in front of you, you scrunch your nose and shrug. "just one of those days, I guess."

he clears his throat, and asks in a casual manner - "hey, how long we been together now, kid?"

you tilt your head towards the ceiling, flipping through a mental rolodex of the time you've spent with frank. it's been the best two years of your life, but it's also blurred together in some ways. "two years, this May."

a puff of air exits his parted lips in the form of a soft whistle.

"why?" you ask.

he scratches at the back of his head, as if suddenly shy. "you uh... you look like me, when you're pissed off."

you scoff. "i do not."

frank nods his head. "no you do. i watched you on the phone just now. like lookin' in a mirror. you got the whole jaw flex down, and the eye squint," he laughs lightly. "you're a dead ringer for me kid. hate to say it, but i think i've finally rubbed off on you."

you're silent for a while, contemplating his statement when he leans toward you to press a kiss to your temple.

"i think it's cute, kid."

you sigh and curl closer into frank.

"well, i suppose there are worse people to look like, castle."

and the genuine laughter that follows that, feels like pure sunshine.

#i really appreciate everyone who takes the time to send messages #it makes my day #soft bean #frank castle #frank castle x reader #asks

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papercorgiworld · 2 months ago

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I’m gonna make my move

Blaise Zabini fluff

Blaise is planning to ask you out today, but nothing goes according to plan. Just really fluffy stuff.

My third fic for Hogmarch 2025! *doing a little happy dance* This one is as sweet as Honey Dukes candy. This was also a real challenge to write and I'm just glad that I'm on time (at least in my time zone). Also sorry if I’m slow to answer messages or react on comments, but I need more hours in a day! Anyways Happy readings!

“Why is Zabini spending such a ridiculous amount of time in the bathroom?” Draco complained his nose wrinkled with annoyance. “Let the man prep.” Mattheo defended his friend, offering the bottle of firewhiskey to Draco. “Day drinking, Riddle? Really?” Mattheo shrugged nonchalantly before taking another swing from the bottle. “It’s not really day drinking, I’m just easing myself into sobering up from last night.” Theo snorted at Mattheo’s explanation, Draco raised his brows and Enzo’s eyes widened. But before anyone could say anything, Blaise walked in.

“I’m gonna make my move today.” He announced with an excited clap of his hands. Enzo nodded, impressed. “Your hair looks fluffier than ever.” Blaise grinned like a happy kid and his hand went through his hair. “Ye think?” Blaise was ready for this day. He was gonna ask you out. “Okay, let’s head out!” Enzo jumped up from where he was sitting and Draco, most eager to leave the castle, already had his hand on the doorknob.

“Matt, you're staying here. Your drunk ass is not gonna ruin this for me. Theo, stay here. Watch the big baby.” Blaise commanded as he swung his jacket over his shoulder. “I’m not some mother goose.” Theo countered. “Yeah, and I’m not drunk!” Mattheo yelled, making Theo roll his eyes.

Blaise winked. “Sure!”

***

Blaise’s eyes were glued to you as you helped a customer, patiently explaining which candies were most advisable as a birthday gift for a kid. “She’s perfect.” Blaise breathed and Draco nodded, leaning against a candy filled counter with his arms crossed. “Yes, she is… and you’re the weirdo that’s been standing between bubble cakes and fire frogs for ten minutes staring.”

Blaise dropped his head and studied the candy in front of him before adding a frog to his bag. He felt his shirt get tighter around his neck as his confidence faded. She’s sooo out of my league.

“Was today not the day you were gonna make a move?” Enzo questioned, his tongue licking his lip not hiding his amusement with his suddenly shy friend. Blaise moved away to a different counter, hoping to put some distance between him and his mocking friends. When Blaise wasn’t looking Enzo caught you staring in their direction and gave you a confident wink, which made you blush.

“Look, I don’t like saying this, but I’m no longer putting this off because of you.” Enzo announced, making Blaise turn to face him holding a bag of weirdly shaped cookies. “I think I have a chance with her and I’m not gonna let her witter because you don’t make a move.” Draco raised his brows, judging Enzo’s boldness.

“Hey hey, I will make my move. I just can’t right now, she’s busy, can’t you see..” Blaise pointed at you seeing you stand there all alone with your pretty HoneyDukes apron. Just then when you turn around to scan the shop and see anyone in need of help or advice three awkward slytherin’s stare back at you, but you only notice one.

“Salazar, she must think we’re weirdo’s.” Draco sighs, keeping his eyes on you and only moving the corners of his mouth to speak. “I’m pretty sure she knows I’m cool.” Enzo smirks arrogantly.

“Go pay for all the stuff you’ve put in your basket… and make. your. Move!” Draco barked, annoyed how he had spent way too much time in the store without any results or any candy.

***

“Hi.”

“Uhm… you look delicious… like a… cracker.”

“A cracker? Hmm.” Your lips form an awkward line and now Blaise is freaking out on the inside. A cracker… what am I thinking!

“No. Yes. I mean it’s a joke, because we’re in HoneyDukes. You’re not delicious.”

“Not delicious?” You chuckle, noting the panic in Blaise’s beautiful eyes. I’m a moron. I hope I fall off my broom during training tomorrow and dieee.

“I would like these candies please.” He suddenly raises his basket filled with snacks and some random trinkets that weren’t even for sale.

“Uhm, I can’t sell you the decorations. I’m sorry.” You offer him a sweet smile as you take the basket to the checkout area.

“Obviously. I knew that. I’m smart. I’m not here to shop anyways.” He blurts nonchalantly and you frown at the nonsense.

“Then what were you doing here?” Blaise melts in your eyes. They are soft as you ask him to make sense of all his nervous yapping. He takes a deep sigh and you offer him a kind smile. “None of my business. I’m sorry for asking.” Just tell her you’re here to ask out the most beautiful girl you’ve ever seen, come Blaise say it, you can do this…

Blaise nodded with a tight lipped smile. None of the words he so desperately wanted to say came out. Today was not going to be the day.

To make matters worse, out of nowhere, a very drunk Theodore Nott slung an arm around Blaise’s shoulder. “Have you asked her out yet?” Theo whispered ridiculously loud while lazily pointing at you, in case there was any doubt as to who he was talking about.

“Wha?” Blaise turned from Theo to you with shock and then back to Theo with anger. “What are you doing here and why are you drunk?” Theo raised his hand. “Riddle challenged me. I had no choice. My honour was at stake.” Blaise’s eyes widened. “He’s the man you know. I’ve heard the girls in his room moan.” Theo offered you a dirty smile and a thumbs up, but Theo wasted no time grabbing Theo by the colour and dragging him away.

You watched the whole group of Slytherins being chased out by Blaise. He was clearly the most adult one of the group and you found it really attractive. He looked fine as hell, was attentive and intelligent. Did he really want to ask me out?

You snapped out of your dreamy thoughts and returned to the basket in front of you, all the candy Blaise had wanted to buy. “Your stuff?” You blurted, your eyes moving to the door, but they had all left.

You sighed, disappointed that he had left. But maybe for the best, maybe it wasn’t supposed to be.

***

You waved goodbye to your boss and closed the door behind you. Your shift has finally ended. Your feet hurt and your head was pounding, you could still hear the voices of excited kids talking about candy and snacks. You sigh as your eyes set on the sun hiding behind the trees. It was getting late, time to go back to the castle.

As soon as you take one step you hear a familiar voice and spin around. “Hi again.”

“Blaise?” He offers you a kind smile and you notice he’s more relaxed than earlier. “Your stuff is still inside. If you want I can still go get it, my boss won’t mind.”

“No, no. No need. I really hope your boss doesn’t notice me being here.” With those words you notice that he's holding the HoneyDukes sign under his arm. “Riddle and Nott stole it. I just got it back. I would like to hang it back up without your boss ever noticing it got stolen.”

You laugh and it warms Blaise’s heart, he chuckles lightly. “They’re the worst.” You nod agreeing with his statement. “They’re lucky to have you.” Now it is his turn to nod. He puts the sign against the wall and reaches for his wand.

“I’m sorry for earlier.” He apologies as he carefully navigates the sign back up, so it’s back above the door of the store. You watch him with admiration. “You’re a very skilled wizard.” He chuckles softly. “Doesn’t make up for my poor communication skills, though.”

“I think you're doing pretty fine.” You smile sweetly as you take a few steps towards him. Blaises moves a nervous hand through his hair. “Yeah, normally I’m good. I can talk my way out of detention and I can pick up a girl with ease, but for some reason… there’s this one girl that I’ve been trying to talk to for months…”

“No luck?” You ask, curious to know more. Your heart starts racing a little at the thought of you really being the girl he wants to ask out.

“She’s way out of my league.” Blaise’s voice is husky, something close to a whisper. “I want to go out with her so bad that I’m afraid to ask because… she might say no.”

You meet his eyes and you feel your cheeks heat up. “No girl in her right mind would say no to Blaise Zabini.”

“No? Not even you?” Blaise questions with an adorable smile that makes your heart melt. “Definitely not me. I would love to go out with you.” His smile brightens and you chuckle.

“Good to know, good to know.” Blaise mutters half to himself as he closes the distance between you two. There’s a moment of silence. “Hey (y/n), would you like to go out for dinner sometime?”

You pretend to think it over and you both laugh. “Yes, sounds good to me.” You both walk to the castle laughing at the bizarre day, the nervousness between you slowly ebbing away. Today was the day after all.

#slytherin boys #slytherin #papercorgiworldwritings #blaise zabini fluff #blaise zabini x reader #blaise zabini x you #blaise zabini imagine #hogmarch2025 #hogmarch challenge

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kingmakercastle · 1 year ago

Note

‘the worst part is that you see me as a victim.’

Lucien watched tapped his fingers in quick succession on the table, back and forth as he heard Elena say that, refusing to look at her as she spoke. He didn't understand why she was assuming he meant it in a negative way. It was a fact.

He looked up at her after a long moment, confusion dancing in his eyes as he responded in a soft and gentle tone.

"Elena...you're operating under the assumption I mean it in a demeaning way, aren't you?"

He walked over to her, gently pushing a strand of her hair back behind her ear. "I don't...given we're both victims..." He hadn't mentioned his own past to her yet. He hadn't been ready until now.

#A Message for the Castle #A Message for the Castle - Answered Asks #Answered Asks #the-last-doppelganger #Revolutionary Ideas #Revolutionary Ideas - Prompts #Prompts

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marauder-misprint · 5 months ago

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Permission

Series Masterlist

Sirius Black x Fem!Slytherin!reader

1.5k words

cw: fluff, swearing

Sirius makes it his mission to find Regulus before dinner. He doesn’t have any idea how he would convince Regulus, but he figures he’d start with asking him. Worst Regulus could say would be ‘no,’ right? And then Sirius could work on wearing his brother down until he said ‘yes.’ You may be a dear friend of Regulus, but Sirius was confident he could sway him.

Sirius makes his way to the library. He is almost certain Regulus would be there. He had seen you walk down toward the Slytherin Common Room so all he can do is hope Regulus is in the library and not awaiting you in the dungeons. He feels uneasy as he opens the library door. He doesn’t visit the library often so the thick scent of old parchment and ink takes over his senses. Madam Pince gives him a cautious look from her desk.

As Sirius walks in, he scans each table for his brother. He passes shelf after shelf, looking down each one. Each table is filled with students but none of the Slytherins are Regulus, and none are ones he could ask for his location. However, he’s on a mission. He has to find Regulus. Sirius looks throughout the entire library and stops right before the last shelf. He takes a deep breath. If Regulus isn’t at the table at the end of this aisle, he’ll have to search all of the castle. He takes a step forward and turns his head.

There he is, sitting at the table which is covered in stacks of books. Sirius can’t help the massive grin that spreads across his face as he casually strolls down the aisle. The younger boy doesn’t notice him until he’s practically leaning over his shoulder.

“I remember Flitwick assigning that essay,” Sirius says lazily.

Regulus stops moving for a moment. Then, slowly and mechanically, he turns his head to look at Sirius and sits up straighter.

“Sirius.”

His blank stare quickly turns unnerved as he sees Sirius’ smile. Whenever Sirius hunted him down, it was to give a message to their parents and therefore, he usually had a grim or annoyed look on his face. This unbridled joy is a new look.

“I need to ask you something,” Sirius says.

“Then ask it, brother.”

“I need your… permission.”

Regulus narrowed his eyes. “For what?”

“To take your friend on a date.”

He blinks at Sirius.

“My friend?”

“You know which one.”

“Yeah… The dog person.”

“So, can I take her out?”

“I don’t know why you’re asking me. She’s her own person.”

Sirius pulls out a chair and sits down.

“She said you have to think it’s a good idea. Otherwise she won’t go with me.”

Regulus hums and looks back down at his essay. “That’s interesting.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“After she came back smelling of you twice, she said she’d tell me if you made a move,” he laughs. “Didn’t know she was going to make you tell me yourself.”

“She isn’t making me do anything,” Sirius says, crossing his arms and leaning back into his chair.

“She’s making you get permission, isn’t she?”

“Yes…” Sirius pauses. “So can I take her out on a date?”

Regulus sighs as he takes a long look at Sirius. Sirius sits there silently, trying to get a read on his expression. He couldn’t quite tell which way this conversation was going.

“What do I get out of it?”

“Anything.”

That was a dead giveaway for Regulus. If Sirius was willing to owe him anything, he really wanted to take you out on a date. It was also a game changer for him. Regulus had been planning on saying no the entire conversation; if you sent Sirius his way for permission, you figured out that Sirius wasn’t taking no for answer from you and needed someone he might actually listen to.

“She thinks you’re pretty, by the way,” Regulus finally says. “But if you hurt her in any way, I will personally make your death look like an accident. Or they’ll never find your body. I’ll decide on that later.”

Sirius gapes at him.

“She thinks I’m pretty? Did she say this to you?”

“Yes.”

“Wait, you said if I hurt her. So you think me going on a date with her is a good idea?”

Regulus snorts a laugh. “Well, no. But we’re going to say I do. I think it’d be good for her. And you.”

“Huh,” Sirius says, not completely sure what his brother meant by that but he wasn’t going to ask.

“Huh?” Regulus echoes.

“Yeah. … What else did she say about me?”

Regulus rolls his eyes before actually returning to his essay. “Fuck off. Be glad I think it’d be funny to hear about a date with you from her perspective. Go.”

Sirius claps a hand on Regulus’ shoulder before he leaves the library with a new spring in his step. Was he technically in Regulus’ debt? Yes. But Sirius is certain it will be worth it, and there’s always the chance that he will never redeem this favor.

He’s surprised when he doesn’t see Regulus at dinner. Dorcas and Pandora sit on either side of you. Sirius spends far too much time watching you with a permanent smile on his face during the meal.

“Did… something happen?” Remus asks cautiously.

“Mhmm.”

“Okay so what happened?” Peter follows up.

“She’s going on a date with me.” Sirius’ voice is giddy.

James nearly chokes on his juice. “She agreed to a date with you?”

Sirius shoots him a look before saying, “All I had to do was get Reg on board. Surprisingly easy.”

“I don’t believe that,” Peter says through a mouthful of food. He swallows. “Why would your brother need to be ‘on board’?”

“They’re friends, remember?” Remus answers.

“Probably thought he’d say no or something,” Peter says.

“But he didn’t. And now we’re going to Hogsmeade this weekend.”

Sirius continues to watch you for the rest of the meal. You don’t look his way once. You think there is no way that he’s already talked to Regulus and managed to get him to say it’s a good idea. You don’t even bother to tell your friends about it. You’re certain it’s not happening. That’s why you sent Sirius to Regulus; the brothers never agreed on anything. They never talked.

After dinner, you’re leaving the Great Hall with your friends when you hear Sirius calling your name. You turn and cross your arms. Dorcas pulls Pandora away with her, somehow understanding that Sirius would want to talk to you alone again.

“We’re on for this weekend,” he says confidently with the same giddy grin that was on his face all meal.

You choke on air. “Excuse me?”

“Regulus gave me permission. Said it was a good idea. Whatever you want to call it. I have his blessing.”

“No. No. No.”

“Yes. Yes. Yes, my darling,” Sirius replies, his eyes lighting up. “We are having a Hogsmeade date and you can’t get out of it.”

“No. No. No. No. No,” you keep repeating.

“Come on, love. It won’t be as bad as you’re making it out to be.”

“I’m not getting my hopes up,” you say before running a hand through your hair with a groan. “I’m not believing you until I hear it myself from Reg.”

“That’s fine. But I talked to him in the library before dinner. We’re in the clear.”

You turn away from Sirius and walk away. Your mind is spinning from the idea of actually going on a real date with Sirius Black. There is no way Regulus actually said it was a good idea. He wouldn’t betray you like that. You’re suddenly at the common room entrance. Your body had gone into autopilot while your thoughts and worries about the possibility of this weekend swirled in your mind. However, worry quickly melts into anger as you descend into the common room and see Regulus lounging on one of the couches.

“Black!” you yell from where you stand at the bottom of the stairs. “I’m going to murder you!”

He glances over at you. Even from a distance, you can see the slight glimmer of fear in his eyes. You approach the couch with purpose in your steps. You grab his shirt collar and pull his face close to yours.

“What the fuck did you say to your brother?” you hiss.

“You kept saying no to me. Thought you might like to go on a date with a different pretty bloke. At least he’s occasionally funny,” he teases, although there is a slight tremble in his voice.

You furrow your brows as you drop his collar.

“You were supposed to say no!” you groan, moving around the couch so you can fall down next to him. “You were the one accusing me of dating him!”

“I’m giving you the chance to find out if you actually like him. See if it does go anywhere beyond him being pretty like me.”

“Regulus. I might actually kill you.”

“Why?”

“Because of you, I’m spending my Saturday in Hogsmeade with your goddamn brother!”

“Yeah and thanks to you, Sirius is now in my debt.”

“No,” you gasp.

Regulus’ lips twitch upwards.

“He said he’d do anything.”

“I hate you.”

He shakes his head. “If it’s really so bad, you can decide what Sirius owes me.”

“I think I should get to decide that anyways.”

tags: @2dloveshp, @yearninglustfully, @made-for-oliverwood, @ilovejamespottersomuch, @hisparentsgallerryy, @itsseaberri, @corawithfanfiction, @devilslittlehelper, @jllyunn, @barnes70stark,

tags: @crowleythesexydemon, @flow33didontsmoke, @navs-bhat, @louweenier, @l0g0phobe,

@ellouisa17, @theendofthematerialgworl, @marina468, @bmyva1entine

#marauders #marauders fic #marauder-misprint #sirius black #sirius black x reader #sirius black x you #sirius black fluff #slytherin!reader #slow burn

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arvandus · 1 year ago

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FICS FOR GAZA

Hello everyone, I've decided to join the @ficsforgaza fundraiser. I've had a couple people express interest, and I think that every little bit helps. I will be offering WIP donations as well as drabble requests.

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Send me a character/characters and a dialogue prompt, trope, or just an overall idea that's been plaguing your brain lately and I'll write a short drabble/ficlet for you!

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sourcherryandsprinkles · 1 year ago

Note

Lucerys' funerals and Jace saying he'd ratehr die himself than lose another of his brothers and being heartbroken and you comforting/being there for him

Although Jacaerys looks really good in his new clothes, I'm not ready for this scene. It will most likely happen in episode 1. I tried to minimize the sadness, but be prepared for tears

Warnings: graphic details/mention of Lucerys' death,

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

Three days after Lucerys left to deliver a message on Storm’s End, dreadful news reached Rhaenyra: her son was dead. A raven from Lord Borros reported that a fisherman had discovered Lucerys’ head and neck washed up beneath the cliffs of Storm's End.

First, her father and her stillborn daughter. Then, her crown. And now her teenage son, her sweet boy Lucerys. Rhaenyra had known loss in her life, but how much grief and pain could one person bear before they’re inconsolable?

The cause of Lucerys’ death was a mystery, but Daemon vowed to uncover the truth. Although he wasn’t his son by blood, he cared about the boy. The storm alone could not have decapitated him, no matter how fierce.

The young prince’s remains were brought to Dragonstone, but Rhaenyra needed more. Determined and heartbroken, she flew on Syrax’s back, searching for ten days for any remains of Lucerys — or Arrax. If the storm caused them to crash, there should be more evidence, right? Yet, the Queen found nothing.

During these ten days, Jacaerys returned from the North with promising news about the Vale and Winterfell. He entered the quiet castle with a smile on his face, impatient to tell his mother about her new allies, but it washed away when you told him about his little brother.

Jacaerys' stomach churned, refusing to believe the words. Lucerys couldn't be dead. He saw him a few days ago, they were sparring on the beach.

‘’No… That’s not true,’’ he denied, shaking his head.

‘’They found parts of his body, I…I’m sorry, Jace. Luke is dead.’’

Jacaerys stood still for a moment, his face pale and expressionless as the reality of your words began to sink in. He was rarely ever struck, but losing a brother felt like a part of him was being ripped away. You watched as he brought a hand over his heart, filled with a deep, aching pain. His face contorted and his eyes welled up with tears.

Seeing him break was rare, and it tore at your heart.

He clenched his jaw, trying to hold back the tears, and looked at you, his eyes filled with despair. ‘’How did it happen?’’ he whispered, his voice barely audible.

The King’s passing had been a significant loss for the Seven Kingdoms, but Jacaerys was never close to his grandsire. He had seen him occasionally in King’s Landing and at the occasional dinner, but the King had been very ill. His death had been inevitable.

Lucerys, however, was young and healthy, with his whole life ahead of him.

A tear slipped down Jacaerys’ face. He never thought he would have to live a life without his brother.

You shook your head, wishing you had answers. ‘’We don’t know. Daemon is looking for answers.’’

The day of the funeral, Dragonstone was silent, grieving the loss of the young prince.

Your stomach was tied in a knot as you dressed yourself. A maid came to your door, asking if you wanted her help this morning, but you politely declined. Today was going to be emotional and you wanted to get ready in privacy.

When you finished clasping your necklace, you glanced at Jacaerys and noticed he was struggling. He couldn’t get his hands to stop shaking, making it impossible to fasten his brooch right. He made a noise of frustration and you walked over to him.

‘’Let me help.’’ you said softly, securing the brooch to his cloak and doublet, and smoothing his collar.

He thanked you with the smallest smile, grateful to have you in his life — especially in dark times. He couldn’t have found a better person to call his wife.

‘’Have you gotten the clothes from Luke’s chamber?’’ you asked.

Jacaerys let out a heavy breath. ‘’Y-yeah. They’re over there, on the bed.’’

It was his idea to take some of Lucerys’ clothes to burn with what was found of his body. It looked less disturbing than a single head in the middle of the funeral pyre.

‘’I knew there would be deaths during the war — it’s inevitable —, but I didn’t think Luke would be the first to go. I should have taught him how to navigate a dragon during a storm…’’

You cupped his face between your hands, making him look at you. ‘’Don’t go there,’’ you said firmly, holding his teary eyes. ‘’What happened was not your fault, Jace.’’

Jacaerys closed his eyes, leaning into your touch. ‘’I know,’’ he whispered, his voice breaking. ‘’A part of me cannot help but feel some guilt. Luke was always scared of flying, of not being able to control his dragon. And now— now he’s dead.’’

You pressed your forehead against his, holding back your own tears. You tried to think of something to say, but no words would alleviate the pain.

‘’I would rather die than lose another of my brothers.’’

—

House of the dragon taglist: @khaleesihavilliard@domoron @ididliquorice @lover-of-helios@lover-of-helios @shine101 @tanyaherondale @mikariell95 @serrendiipty @lantsovheiress @gilliananderfuckme @shine101 @tetgod @clayzayden@memeorydotcom @tnu-ree @futuregws @blackravena @winxschester @mysteriouslydelightfulchaos @xxlaynaxx @secretsthathauntus @pilarxxxaguayo @emmavan39 @stargaryenx @erylilly @bbblackmamba @rainedrop97 @dreamer087 @gothicgay14 @ashlatano7567 @superkittywonderland @justaproudslytherpuff @evesolstice @buckysmainhxe @padfootsvixen @scarletmeii @evesolstice @dkathl @kaywsworld @tetgod @padfootsvixen @domoron @weird-addiction @angeliod @xjennyx2 @adaydreamaway08 @mymultiveres @secretsthathauntus @puffycreamcakes @thirsty4nonlivingmen @naty-1001 @katiepie67 @moshpot24x @hc-geralt-23 @lovelynerdytraveler @saturn-sas @zgzgh @sssjuico10 @tabloidteen @timetoten @deekaag @wondxrgurl @aerangi @strmborns @astridyoo15 @daemonslittlebitch @queenbeestuffs @severewobblerlightdragon @agentstarkid @msliz @vane1999-blog @fairyfolkloresposts @todaywasafairytale07 @otomaniac @zgzgzh @thebeardedmoon @golden-library @kikyrizuki @hnslchw @camy85 @winxschester @armstrongscommentsection @withfireandbl00d @randomstory56 @JudgmentDays-Girl

All and more taglist: @kenqki@hawkegfs@gillybear17@black-rose-29@fudge13 @cece05 @laylasbunbunny @gemofthenight @beautyb1ade @mellabella101 @vxnity713 @bisexualgirlsblog @queenofslytherin889 @thatbxtchesblog @softb-tterfly @ethanlandrycanbreakmyheart @xyzstar @graceberman3 @mikeyspinkcup @jackierose902109 @daisydark @laurasdrey @mischieftom @fanatic4niall @peterholland04 @idkwhattonamethisblogs @lexasaurs634 @notasadgirlipromise @zoeynicolas @thejuleshypothesis @multi-fandom-bi-bitch @lexasaurs634 @notasadgirlipromise @thejuleshypothesis @katherinejess @rafesgirlstuff @lafleshlumpeater @iamluminosity @Anouknani-2305 @books0fever @papichulo120627 @qardasngan @ghostlyvoidydragon @M0rgans1nterlud3

#jacaerys velaryon #jacaerys velaryon x reader #jacaerys velaryon imagine #house of the dragon #hotd #house of the dragon imagine

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ranchracoon · 3 months ago

Text

Soothing Touch

Alcina Dimitrescu x Reader

Requested by: lesb14n0

The slamming doors shakes the entire castle, followed by the stomping of heavy footsteps meaning the meeting did not go well. You look amongst the other staff who stare off toward the sound in horror, whenever the Lady is in a bad mood means one of them might die for the littlest mistake. The Lady curses as she walks through the main hall and you quickly motion for the other servants to make themselves scarce, not giving you enough time to also hide. The Lady bursts through the double doors into the main hall, he eyes scanning the surroundings until they land on you.

"You" she orders.

"Yes my lady?" You answer quickly, your entire body shaking viciously.

"Draw me a bath and bring me a bottle. No one is to disturb me otherwise."

"Yes my lady" you bow your head and scurry off.

At least she didn't slice you open but you take other precautions as well; grabbing her favorite vintage of blood wine, her cigarettes from the vanity, and her favorite red and gold engraved glass. You draw the bath, hot, just how she likes it and set the tray with her things beside the tub for her to easily reach. As you pour the thick liquid into the glass the door bursts open again making you almost spill from flinching. Thankfully you were raising the glass to finish the pour and didn't spill a single drop as the Lady undresses there in front of you. You avert your eyes but you can't help the blush that coats your face, she notices of course but says nothing. She doesn't have time for that. She steps into the bath and sighs heavily, holding out her hand and you instantly greet her with the glass. She takes a drink and sighs heavily, lowering her head back until it hits the edge of the tub and she makes a face.

"Would you like a message?" You offer.

Before you can shut yourself up, the words leave you as the Lady shoots her head up to glare at you. She looks you over once, then twice, before humming softly and nodding her head. You move the stool around to the head of the tub and roll your sleeves up, slowly working the muscles in her neck and shoulders. She sighs again, you can feel the muscles loosening as you work them, she grunts softly as you work a particularly stubborn knot.

"This is just what I needed" she murmurs.

"Did the meeting not go well?" You ask.

"Feeling brave today aren't we?" She says coyly before taking a drink, "but to answer your question no it did not. That fool Heisenberg somehow wormed his way to being Mother Miranda's favorite all of the sudden. What does he have that impresses her so?"

The Lady begins rattling on about her discontent and hatred for Heisenberg and Mother Miranda's apparent favoritism toward him. You say nothing except an occasional 'mhm' or any appropriate response to her hypothetical questions. Before you realize it, she's finished the entire bottle of wine, the water has gone cold, and your fingers ache to the point you think they'll fall off. The Lady stands from her tub and wraps a towel around her body, clearly more relaxed than before as she slightly turns toward you.

"Thank you" she says softly, "you are dismissed."

"Anytime my lady" you bow.

* * *

The Lady groans lowly, rubbing the back of her neck as she stares at the papers in front of her. She straightens her posture having realized how slump she became, and the crescendo of pops and cracks sends another groan out of her. She's stiff, sore, and frankly stressed beyond her mind over these reports. She's still trying to gain favor with Mother Miranda and seems to be going no where, on top of running a business. She stands and takes a cigarette out, putting it in her holder and standing out on the balcony of her private chambers. As she draws in a deep breath a thought occurs to her, she knows of someone in particular who could help her with her situation. She finishes her cigarette and closes the door before calling out for her oldest, Bela.

"Yes mother" the blond says a moment later, appearing from her horde of flies.

"Bring me Y/N would you?"

"Of course" she giggles.

"Gently" the Lady warns.

The blonde's enthusiasm faulters but she obeys her mother's command, searching the corridors until she finds you. Before you can react she has you by the arm and drags you away from your duties. Oh great. You did something to make the Lady angry and now she's going to serve you to her daughters. Bela weaves expertly until you arrive at the Lady's private chambers, she pushes the door open and tosses you inside, giggling wildly behind you. You stay kneeling on the ground looking up in the Lady's direction, your body trembles as you try everything to control your fear but your racing heart gives you away.

"That will be all Bela" the lady waves her hand in dismissal.

"Awe" the blonde whines before disappearing once again.

"Y/N" the lady orders.

You stand, "yes my lady?" You ask with as much courage as you can muster.

"Will you...message my neck again?" She asks softly, looking away as if embarrassed to be asking a servant such a thing.

"Oh, of course" you reply, your shoulders relaxing slightly.

She sits on her chair in front of her vanity, setting her hat aside and pulling her curls out of the way to give you access to her neck. You bring over a stool to get some height then begin rubbing her neck once again like you did before. She sighs heavily and closes her eyes as you expertly loosen the tightly wound muscles.

"Where did you learn this?" She asks.

"My mother taught me."

"She taught you well, I've never been more relaxed."

"Thank you my lady."

"May I ask why?"

"She thought it would be a good skill to have when I got a husband. She often did it for my father after he worked the fields to appease him."

"But you wound up here instead" she says matter of factly.

"Willingly."

Her eyes open, their golden aura flashes in the light as they examine you predatorily, "you chose lifelong servitude, knowing you would be killed, instead of marrying?"

"I wouldn't want to be married to a man" you pause then widen your eyes "that I didn't love" you add quickly.

The lady smirks, her smile lines visible in the mirror, as you lock eyes with her and finish up her message in silence. She dismisses you and watches you leave, tapping her chin in thought as she replays your answer in her head.

* * *

It becomes a regular occurrence. Anytime the Lady is stressed or angry she seeks you out, and you willingly give her neck and shoulders a message. She gives you more privileges like later curfew when she's with you, even sharing meals with her on occasion. The Lady has grown rather fond of you; she enjoys the conversations she has with you, and of course your magical fingers. She allows you to go further and further until she's lying on her belly with her back entirely exposed to you and you working your magic throughout her upper body. This particular night begins like all the rest; she calls for you, and you come in a timely manner to give her a message. She sits at her vanity with her curls pulled aside as you work the tight muscles into submission but there's an eerie silence to you tonight.

"Everything okay darling?" She asks.

"Yes my lady" you respond quickly.

Too quickly.

She becomes suspicious, trying to engage you in topics that would normally leave a sparkle in your eye with excitement. Not tonight though, tonight you answer with one worded answers which only solidifies her suspicions. She abruptly stands and faces you, causing you to catch yourself on her dress to avoid falling from your stool all together. She takes your hand in hers, kneeling to your level as her face becomes taught and stern.

"Y/N, you will tell me this instant what is the matter."

You swallow back the tears that threaten to spill from your eyes, you're not about to cry in front of your boss. All the pent up frustration boils over as you unleash upon her all the horrid things the other staff members have been saying about you. The special treatment you've been receiving, the late nights, the one on one time in your chambers, all of it fueling their sickening imagination.

"Give me names. Now."

You shake your head, "it's not their fault. I can't say I wouldn't partake if the roles were reversed. I just wish what they said was true."

Your eyes widen as you cover your mouth, your entire body heats up with feverish heat and as if the Lady can read your mind, she prevents you from escaping. She blocks you in with her arm, tightening her grip on your hand as she leans herself closer to you, reaching up to remove your hands from your mouth.

"Is that so?" She asks huskily.

"Y-yes" you admit.

"Well, if you won't give me their names, then perhaps you'll let me fulfill some of these...fantasies they've conjured. They're already saying it happened, why not make it come true."

Your eyes flash down to her lips then back to her eyes, she smirks widely as if that answers her question. She leans in to break the space between you and her, capturing your lips with her own.

Master List

Part 2

#resident evil village #re8 #alcina dimitrescu #alcina dimitrescu/reader #alcina dimitrescu x reader #wlw #wlw fanfiction #re8 fanfiction #lady dimitrescu

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cacartoon · 17 days ago

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Ay there saw ur fairytale designs n they look p lovely i was wondering whats ur interpretation on snow white , rupinzel and cinderellas story

Ok time for me to geek out over fairytales that are so ancient they all deserve senior discounts (sorry if my descriptions aren’t the best)

Also I’ll do this one at a time because I’m about to try and story book this.

SNOW WHITE

Snow White is the only child of a kind king and queen.

Before her birth, the queen was an artist, who saw beauty and value in just about anything. While painting in the winter, she had dropped the apple she was eating. The queen couldn’t forget the striking beauty of the red apple against the pure white snow, and the ebony trees pulling it together. She painted that exact scene and told the king, “I hope for our child to be just like this. Pure and bold, yet gentle and beautiful”. Soon Snow White was born. Unfortunately the Queen couldn’t recover from the birth, and died not long after.

As time went on the king was pressured into another marriage, and so he wedded the new queen. Though a striking beauty, she was truly vain and cruel. She’d scoff at the late queen’s paintings and creations, and brought a chill into what was normally a warm and inviting home. She had many mirrors, and her favorite was one from her homeland. Whenever she asked the question, “My dear my magic mirror, tell me so, whom in this land is the fairest? Tell me true” and the mirror would tell her that it was she who was the fairest, for it was all that it’s ever seen. Until one day, Snow White, now a young lady, came across the mirror not knowing it was enchanted. The mirror saw true beauty as she’d assist the serving girls with carrying trays, offering to clean up the guards’ shields and weapons after a long days work, speak warmly of her late mother’s art to guests, and watched a blossoming romance between her and a neighboring prince, who were the bestest of friends.

One day, the new queen asked her mirror the same question, “My dear my magic mirror, tell me so, whom in this land is the fairest? Tell me true.”, only this time the mirror said a new answer. “My queen, though your beauty is striking and rare, Snow White is truly pure and far more fair”. The queen became enraged. She never really cared for children, and this was her final straw. Snow White was to be taken cared of, and she’d soon see a chance.

A message arrived at the castle from one of the kingdom’s allies. The King was summoned for immediate assistance, along with men and supplies. Soon he left, leaving his beloved daughter and wife alone to care for the kingdom. The wicked queen summoned a huntsman, one of her many servants who joined her from her homeland, and gave him the following orders. “Huntsman, tomorrow you are to escort the princess to the woods to pick fresh fruit. And there, you are to execute her. And to bring me proof? Bring her heart, for I want to be the one to crush it.”

The next day Snow White and the huntsman arrived at the edge of the woods where a great apple tree and berry bushes grew. It was a hot day, but this did not deter Snow White. She happily picked the fruits, even offering apples and berries to the huntsman. Even more, she gave him fresh water she had brought for the journey, as the huntsman was sweaty and tired from the heat. The kindness of this girl touched the huntsman, so much so he wept. Snow White comforted the huntsman, but was taken aback by what she heard next. The huntsman confessed his true intentions, revealing the wicked jealousy of the queen. He begged and begged for the princess to forgive him. Though she was hurt by the news, and frightened, she continued to comfort the man. “Please my princess, you must flee! I cannot bear to watch you perish at the hands of one so cruel.” Snow White wept, “But what about you? She will surely punish you!” The huntsman helped the girl to her feet, “I may have been loyal to my queen, I have a new crown to protect. You. Now go!” Snow White thanked the huntsman and fled into the woods as fast as she could.

The huntsman returned to the castle, hiding his rage and scorn. He had brought a boar heart instead to fool the queen. She was delighted as she crushed the heart. The queen then told her subjects and loyal friends of the princess’s “fate”, and ordered a message to be sent to the king. The princess, was dead…

The sun was rising, the woods once again showed light. Snow White tripped and stumbled over rocks and roots of trees. Her golden dress down torn and ripped, her ebony hair loose and messy, and her freckled face flushed from exhaustion and tears. She had been running all night. Snow White hadn’t the slightest clue where she was going. All she thought of was her poor father. She couldn’t go home until he had returned, if she could get home at all. As she trudged through the dense woods she saw a well. Without hesitation she fetched water from it and drank. Then she spotted a little cottage. The cottage was simple, yet oddly welcoming. She knocked to see if anyone was home, but no one answered. The door was left unlocked. Inside were dishes and clothes strewn about, dust covering shelves, and pickaxes worn and covered in dirt. Snow White was shocked. “Now this can’t be just left like this. No one should live like this.” Though tired and hungry, she immediately began to tidy up. Helping the servants and guards for years had taught her many skills, though she wasn’t nearly as good as the true professionals. She swept, she dusted, she washed and scrubbed. Soon the cottage was tidy and clean. Snow White was proud at her work, but now was even more tired. Her sudden cleaning job also made her think. She had wandered into a house that wasn’t hers, and she had drank from their well and imposed herself to do their chores. And now seeing how tired she was, she knew eventually she’d have to rest. But she continued to work, even making fresh bread as she was truly now hungry. As the bread cooled she grabbed a nearby paper and quill and wrote a note. As her eyes grew heavy, she took off a pearl necklace had had been wearing and placed it with the note. Snow White then fell into a deep sleep there on the ground.

Some miles from the cottage was a cave, and in that cave was a mine. The mine was filled with minerals and jewels, veins of gold and silver. And in the mine were little men hard at work, 7 in total. The leader, Oswald, wrote down all their findings. The biggest, Leopold, hauled heavy bags filled with priceless gems to carts. Another with one, Phillipe, inspected the jewels and other metals. A blindfolded one, Merlin, felt the caves for new veins with such accuracy. One with one eye, Harold, smelted down the gold and silver. The eldest, which they all called Grandpa, crushed down minerals into fine powders. And the youngest, Oliver, watched his elders with wide eyes. Oswald called his fellow miners, for it was time to return home with their treasures. With their carts, they left the mines and returned to their….clean cottage? They had been gone for some time, this haul being very large, and were stunned by their home looking better than usual. The men grew wary, could an intruder have played a joke on them? As they inspected their home, Oliver came across a shocking sight. The men gathered and saw on their ground a girl, quietly sleeping. “Who is she?” “Where did she come from?” “What has happened to her?” Oswald picked up the note she had written and read it aloud. “To the owners of the cottage. I am truly sorry I entered your home without your consent. I had been running for quite some time. I’m sure you’re a little confused by my actions, and I’m truly sorry if I offended you. I do not expect forgiveness nor will I stay. But please, accept my pearls as a payment regardless. Your well and home have saved me. And for that, I owe you many thanks.” “-Princess Snow White”, Oswald read. The men couldn’t speak. This girl was a princess? Phillipe inspected the pearls, they were real alright. “What should we do, Grandpa?”, asked Oswald. Grandpa spoke, “Let’s allow the girl some sleep, though I don’t believe the floor is proper for a lady.” “She can use our spare. I’ll take her there”, Leopold said. He carefully picked up Snow White and they all helped her into another room of the cottage. There they laid her to continue her sleep. Once they closed the door, Oswald and his family agreed, “We shall ask more in the morning. For now, let’s let her rest.”

Snow White’s eyes fluttered open from a stream of light. It was morning now, and she was…in a bed? She sat up and yawned. Then she looked around. “How did I?…”, she said to herself. There was a sudden knock at the door, which made her jump, “Oh! Um, come in!” The door opened and the men trailed in. Snow White gasped, the owners. She quickly got up from the bed, her face filled with guilt, “I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to impose on all of you! Thank you for your hospitality! I shall take my leave!” “Now now hold on there my dear.”, Oswald stopped her, “There’s no need for apologies. We’re all more curious than offended.” Snow White steadied her nerves, though that didn’t do much. “You are Snow White, correct? The princess?”, Oswald asked. Snow White nodded. Oswald continued, “Please, tell us what has happened to you.” The men listened to Snow White’s tale of distress. How the queen had ordered her execution but she was spared, how she ran and ran until she couldn’t no more, and how her discovery and subsequent cleaning session occurred. Snow White then stated, “And as my note says, please accept my pearls as payment. I know I’ve done wrong by entering your home, imposing myself on your chores, drinking your water, and using your materials to make bread. I am deeply sorry. I shall take my leave if you insist upon it.” “That will not be necessary.” Grandpa cut in, his old cane making a little sound with every step, “You appear to mean us no harm, actually quite the opposite. Though odd for a first instinct, you have nothing to worry about.” “And besides,” , Harold began, “what kind of hosts would we be if we let a young lady be sent back into the woods?” “Can she stay with us?”, Oliver asked. The men looked at each other and nodded. Oswald turned to Snow White, “That is, if you’d like to stay here. We can’t offer much, but you’re more than welcome to share our home.” Snow White’s eyes were filled with tears, and her smile returned to her face, “You really mean it? Why yes! Yes of course! Oh! But please no need to show me special treatment. I can help! I can cook and clean and keep home. If that’s okay?” The men smiled and laughed. “I hope you can make a good stew if you’re offering.”, Harold joked. “And you certainly will not be doing any work in that. We’ll get you proper clothing if you’re to hide here with us”, interjected Phillipe. “That settles it then.”, said Oswald, “The guest room is yours, princess. And I believe I speak for us all when I say, you may stay here as long as you’d like.” Snow White eyes lit up, and her smile warmed up the room, “Thank you…Thank you so much. And please, call me Snow.”

Back at the castle, the queen wore a mourning face. The servants and guards were quiet, no one smiled or laughed. How could they? Their dear princess was no more. The king’s letter ordered a period of mourning, and upon his arrival home they would hold a proper ceremony to honor his daughter. Once alone, the queen was giddy! She arrive at her mirror and asked the same question, “My dear my magic mirror, tell me so, whom in this land is the fairest? Tell me true!” The mirror spoke, “My dear queen, though your beauty is striking and rare, hidden in the woods in a cottage , Snow White is far more pure and fair.” The queen’s glee turned sour. How?! How could she be alive?! She realized she had been tricked. Pure rage filled her face, and then panic. The king would soon learn the truth! She had to act and act fast.

Meanwhile, Snow White was now simply Snow. Her torn royal robes now replaced with average peasant clothing, courtesy of Phillipe. She spent her days keeping the cottage tidy and clean. Snow prepped hardy and filling meals, and the men savored each bite. They returned each day with fine jewels and metals and showed her the art of jewelry and metal works. Once their treasures were made, some of the men would travel to a town to sell their goods. They’d bring back supplies and food with the money. The cottage had never been so lively. Snow would hum songs as she worked. She would clean the pickaxes with Leopold and Harold, sew and mend clothes with Phillipe, read poems and tell stories with Oswald and Merlin, and help care for Grandpa and Oliver.

One day, the men had to leave for another large haul in the mines, and Snow was left to her chores. She was hanging to laundry when an old woman walked on through a bush and got caught on the thorns. Snow quickly helped the old woman and check her over for injuries. The old lady laughed, “I’m alright my dear, no worry. Thank you for being so kind. Would you care to see my laces? I was on my way to town to sell them.” Snow’s eyes sparkled at the laces, many shimmered in beautiful colors. The one that caught her eye though was a crimson red lace, a simple yet elegant piece. She taken out her little pouch of money from helping the men with their jewelry and paid for the lace. “Allow me to help you with that.” , the old woman offered. She laced up Snow’s dress and bid the girl farewell. As Snow looked at her lace with glee, she began to feel a tight pain. Her breathes were growing faint, and she could stand. The lace was pulling tighter either every breath until she collapsed onto the cottage floor. Later the men returned to the cottage, carrying another large haul of goods when they gasped. They hurried to Snow’s side, frantically trying to wake her. Grandpa grew serious and ordered the lace to be cut. Without hesitation, Phillipe cut the lace. Then the lace morphed into snakes! The men were startled and tossed the snakes outside, and they slithered away. Snow’s eyes began to open once more. “Snow, what happened?! Who did this?!”, they asked. Snow told of her encounter today and dread ran down all their necks. There was only one person it could be; the queen. Snow looked ashamed at being tricked. They called a house meeting and all agreed, Snow needed better protection. The next day they got to work. Grandpa and Merlin showed Snow the minerals they gathered and how they made elixirs and cures. Leopold gifted Snow a little dagger to keep on her person at all times. Oswald and Harold showed Snow what poisons to be wary of. And to comfort her, Phillipe made snow new laces, ones far more beautiful and elegant than the one that almost took her life. Oliver, who had grown quite attached to Snow, insisted on staying back to protect her every day. The me didn’t oppose, perhaps another pair of eyes would be useful. Snow thanked her friends for all their help, and learned all she could from them. She hoped this wouldn’t happen again.

The seasons began to change, it was now autumn. The woods were now orange and yellow, and the air grew colder. Snow and the little men worked together to prepare for winter. They chopped woods, gathered roots and berries, and all while laughing and joking. On one of these days, they all entered the woods to gather herbs. They split up into groups to cover more ground. While Snow was picking herbs, she heard a twig snap! She readied her dagger, remembering what Leopold taught her, and stood her ground. Before she could act she was thrown back to the ground. Another person had collided with her, tripping on a rock. The stranger apologized profusely, and then stopped. Their eyes met. Snow recognized that voice. The prince she grew up with, who was her best friend, “Archie?!””Snowy?!”, he cried. They two friends begun to cheer and laugh, and immediately threw themselves into each other’s arms. Archie cried as he held his old friend close, and Snow wept into his shoulder. “We were told you were torn apart by wild beasts…”, he said. Before Snow could explain, the men quickly arrived, ready to defend Snow from another attempt. Snow stopped them and joyfully introduced Archie. Archie was a friendly fellow. Very warm and very inviting. The men and Snow led Archie to the cottage where they spoke and caught up. Snow explained her story and Archie’s eyes filled with anger. He explained the queen told everyone that she was dead! Archie felt ashamed for being so easily tricked and wanted to confront the queen himself. Snow stopped him, and told him that until the king returned he could not. The men allowed the two some time alone and Snow told Archie everything. Archie had only been on a hunting expedition, only to find his friend hiding as a peasant, waiting for her father to return to expose the queen’s lies without putting anyone in danger. Archie understood. More than anything he was thrilled Snow was okay! They embraced and Archie promised he’d return again, checking up on Snow and the men to ensure their safety. He thanked the men profusely for protecting Snow, and left to return to his castle.

On one of Archie’s visits, now also disguised as a peasant to conceal his involvement in protecting Snow White, an old man stumbled near the well and wheezed. The youth hurried to help the man and gave him water. The old man thanked the pair . As Snow left to the cottage to return the cup they used, the old man saw the love in Archie’s eyes. He told the lovestruck prince, “I see you are in love, and I too once had a girl I cared for. And as a sign of good faith, please accept this hair piece. It was my late wife’s and we had no children. I know she’d be honored if a new couple could continue our tradition.” Archie, hesitantly eyed the comb and accepted it. It was a simple piece, possibly silver. The old man wished the prince good luck with his courtship and left. Snow and Oliver were washing dishes when Archie entered the cottage and presented the piece to Snow. Snow was touched by the gift. Oliver was confused, now understanding women’s fashion. Snow and Archie laughed and demonstrated for the young boy. Snow placed the hair piece into her hair and twirled, showing off her new look. The boys laughed and clapped and Snow bowed. Then she shot up! Her eyes were wide, she couldn’t speak. Archie and Oliver hurried to her side and she slumped over. The hair piece was digging into her scalp! Archie quickly got the hair piece off Snow and tossed it away. It morphed into a black widow spider, it hissed at the youngsters. Oliver hurried out the door and ran to the mine to bring the other men. Archie held Snow and cried out, trying to wake her. The men returned quickly. Merlin felt Snow’s head and ordered herbs and minerals. They quickly gathered up the supplies and were told to put it in water. Doing as they were told, they presented the elixir to Merlin. Merlin told Archie to have Snow drink it and quickly. Archie did as he was told, helping Snow drink. It was silent for a moment…and then Snow coughed. Her breath returned, though labored. Archie held her close and told the men what had occurred, and begged for forgiveness. The men comforted the couple, relieved that again they avoided a tragic loss. That night they came up with a new plan. It was no longer safe for Snow to stay at the cottage. None of them were safe. Archie invited the men and Snow to his castle, at least there they’d be guarded. It would take time though to prepare for more guests. They agreed, saying they had to prep the cottage for a long leave.

“My dear my magic mirror, tell me so, whom in this land is now the fairest? Tell me true!”, the queen asked the mirror. The mirror again told her, “My dear queen, though your beauty is striking and rare, hidden in the woods in a cottage , Snow White is far more pure and fair.” The queen was now engulfed in rage. She had tried the laces, and failed. She had tried the hair piece, and she failed again! Her attempts were thwarted time and time again and soon the king would return from his journey! She thought long and hard. She needed a plan that would ensure Snow White would never return. And she looked at the late queen’s old painting….a single apple among the winter snow. And evil grin now on her face.

Winter was fast approaching. The men stayed at the cottage now that the weather was turning cold. Soon they’d head to Archie’s castle to hunker down for the winter. The king was to return by spring, and so all they had to do was lay low. They gathered apples and berries to bring on their journey. Snow picked as many as she could when one caught her eye. While the others were a mix of yellows and reds, this one was fully red and ripe. She thought back to the painting her mother made before her birth and her heart filled with sadness. She picked the apple and kept it close, returning to the men with her bounty. They all sat and rested. They enjoyed their little snacks and Snow had the apple she picked just for herself. As she bit into it she thought of her father, how happy she’ll be once she reunites with him soon. She thought of the men who risked their safety for hers. And Archie, the prince who she had fallen in love with and was ready to help her and her friends. Snow felt her worried were almost over….and then she collapsed. The men hurried to her. They gave her elixirs and herbs, but nothing woke her. Grandpa and Merlin inspected the apple, and horror spread across them all. It was enchanted. No herb or elixir would save Snow this time. They tried in vain to wake up their friend, but it was no use. They started to weep.

The queen asked her mirror once again, “My dear my magic mirror, tell me so, whom in this land is now the fairest? Tell me true!” The mirror spoke, “My queen…it is now you…” She cackled and cheered! She had done it! Now all that was left to to keep the king in the dark.

The men carried Snow back to the cottage. They made her comfortable, flowers lined her bed. Oswald called for his fellow men, newfound determination filled him even if it was only a little, “ We’ve come this far just to quit? Did she quit when she ran? When she offered her services? When she kept escaping death’s grip time and time again? I think not!” The others wanted to cheer, but they were uncertain. Grandpa spoke, his voice low but still a little hopeful, “If none of our elixirs and cures can help, then I’ll continue to find a way…” “We must tell Archie of the news, he might be able to help.”, said Merlin. Harold left the cottage with Leopold and Oliver, as fast as they could to Archie’s kingdom.

Meanwhile Archie and his castle staff had prepared fine rooms and essentials for Snow White and the men. Though Archie was growing worried. It was still a few days ride from the castle to the cottage. Hopefully the snow didn’t slow them down. And then suddenly the castle doors swung open as Harold, Leopold, and Oliver hurried to Archie. As they told their story, Archie’s heart dropped.

The party returned with Archie, who now gazed upon Snow White’s face. It’s like she wasn’t even dead. Grandpa and Merlin looked tired, they had been searching for answers. Oswald and Phillipe stayed by the princess’s side, praying. Archie heart ached, if only he had been there. They all moved aside as Archie knelt down to Snow White’s side. He took her hand and wept, “I’m so sorry Snow…” Grandpa spoke up, his hope now dashed, “I’ve looked through everything I could…I couldn’t find a way to break the enchantment…” The men wept for their lost friend. Archie pressed his forehead against Snow White’s, “I love you Snow White…and I hope somehow you’ll know…” He gently kissed her forehead, a kiss farewell, and bowed his head…

A glow began to shine from Snow White’s throat. Everyone stopped and watched in awe as the apple piece that had been caught in her throat had lost its enchantment. Snow White coughed up the piece and began to breathe once again. She opened her eyes and sat up, and looked around, “What happened?…Are we at your home already Archie?” The men and Archie cheered with joy and wept happy tears. Archie hugged Snow White tight, and Snow White simply smiled and went along with it. They explained what had happened, and Snow White now understood. She got up from her bed, now standing tall and determined. “My step mother had tricked me, and tried to take my life. And she used my mother’s memory to do it. If her offenses weren’t treasonous enough, now she had truly crossed the line. Now my friends, we must hurry and plan our next move. For if she’s now stooped to this point to end me, I can only wonder what she’ll do to my father.” They all left the cottage and left to Archie’s castle, planning their next move.

Spring had finally arrived. The king was now home, and mourning had begun. Everyone in the castle was quiet, only soft weeps were heard. The king looked upon the old paintings of his wife and now his daughter. How could he fail them both…The wicked queen comforted her husband, now fully satisfied she convinced him of Snow White’s demise. A messenger arrived and told the king and queen their ally, Prince Archibald and his entourage have arrived for an audience. They met the young prince who had his men with him. Not just his men, but 7 smaller men and his wife’s huntsman too. The king was happy to see the young prince he had watch grow from a boy to a man, but his heart grew sad as he told of Snow White’s fate. Archie stood tall and informed the king he and all the kingdom have been tricked by the queen. The queen scoffed and lied, saying grief had clouded his mind. The king asked if there was proof of these allegations. The seven men presented the king with their proof. The snakes that once were laces, the spider who was once a hair piece, the apple that was still fully ripe and red with a piece missing. Then, Prince Archie presented his evidence. Walking past him to the king was none other than SNOW WHITW!!! She was back in royal robes, her hair and face adorned in jewels and gold made by her friends, and she was very much alive. The queen was silent. The king ran to his daughter in joy and hugged her tight, weeping. Snow White cried with her father, overjoyed. “Is this true child?”, the king asked. Snow White nodded, “I’m afraid it’s all true.” Suddenly guards arrive, frazzled and confused. They were carrying many bottles and potions, and even worse; poisons. “Your majesty! We have recovered these from the gardens! Someone had them buried!” The King looked at the queen, who was now even paler. “Is this true my love? You tried to have my child killed?!”, the king barked. The queen was silent. Then she chuckled. Her chuckled quickly changed to a cackle. It sounded angry and wicked. The queen confessed. Everything they said was true! The king was enraged and called for the queen to be arrested, but she ran past them all in a hurry. The little men and the prince chased after the queen, and Snow White followed not long after.

On top of the castle the queen was chased. She cursed and threw all she could to stop them from capturing her until she was cornered. The men surrounded her, and Snow White arrived soon after. She looked at her step mother, hurt but no longer afraid. “We welcomed you to our home, and treated you as family. Even if it was a marriage of convenience, we loved you. I do not understand why you are the way you are, but I wish to show mercy. You are to be banished from our land and to never return. Your family will be informed of your actions.” The queen was enraged. “This isn’t over you vicious brat! I won’t be made a fool! I won’t be outshined by a small insignificant child! And I’ll die before YOU outshine ME!” Before anyone could act, she lunged at Snow White and tackled her down, but she over shot and the two fell over the side of the castle ledge. Snow White quickly grabbed onto the ledge and grabbed the queen’s hand. Snow White, though upset, didn’t wish to see anyone die. The queen looked up at the child, who she looked down upon now looking down on her, and sneered. She clawed and scratched at Snow White, trying one last time to end it all, but her thrashing only made her lose her grip. The Queen plummeted to the ground, her cries loud and then silent. Archie and the men quickly rescued Snow White and pulled her to safety. Snow White sighed in relief, the first time since the day she was first to be killed.

The king begged Snow White to forgive him for allowing such a woman into their lives, but Snow White comforted her old father. “Now is not the time to dwell on the past. Spring has arrived, and a new day is upon us. Let’s all celebrate a new era and new beginnings.”

The kingdom celebrated the return of their king and princess. The streets were filled with music and dancing. The little men were richly rewarded and honored for their selflessness and compassion. Snow White then told Archie with pure love in her heart, “I love you too, Archie”. The young couple shared a kiss as the celebration went on, for a new future awaited them all.

And they all live, happily ever after.

(I spent like 2 hours writing this what the heck, I hope it’s not bad 😭)

#fairy tale au #snow white au #fairytale

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