#I love how the castle looks during the different seasons

[silverfox66]

Spring has arrived 🌸

[teapartyprincess4two]

II. Powerful

classification: angst, fluff

warnings: use of y/n

PREV, NEXT

—

Every year the social season manages to drain you beyond belief. When your mother was still alive, she’d flaunt you in front of every eligible bachelor in Solara in hopes that you’d find your one true love and produce an heir.

Courting was an easy enough process, a process that perhaps you would’ve enjoyed if you weren’t royalty. Your mother always managed to exhaust you with the same words, “A Queen is only as powerful as her King.”

To this day, even after her passing, those words cause your eyes to roll so far back into your head it’s a wonder how they don’t fall out. So much hypocrisy was laced within those words, especially coming from a woman who ruled without a king for decades.

You were powerful with or without a king, that you were certain of. If your mother was able to do it while raising two daughters, you’d surely manage now that your sister was entering the cusp of adulthood.

This year Selma has made her debut into society, a milestone she’s had her sights on for quite some time now.

Selma, unlike you, believes in romance and love. She’s extremely determined to find a husband who’ll bring her butterflies, write her love letters, and take her for who she is.

Every eligible bachelor has come knocking at the castle door in hopes of impressing Selma enough to make it out with her hand in marriage.

Yesterday, she was kept busy entertaining possible suitors in the tea room, and today wasn’t any different. Of course, you could’ve sent Martina to chaperone her, but you’d be damned if your sister gave herself away to anyone less than worthy.

The sound of Martina’s heels clicking against marble flooring becomes louder as she nears the tea room. Her small figure comes into view, bringing your attention from the letters and feather quills on your desk to the door frame. You’re fully expecting her to announce the arrival of another one of Selma’s callers, but her next words surprise you.

“You have a visitor, Your Highness. It is a…” she says, pausing to read from a small piece of paper, “…a Lord Sturniolo.”

Apprehensively, you gather your papers and send Selma, who sits on a nearby couch reading a book, an inquisitive look.

“Have you been courting a Lord Sturniolo, Selma?” You ask, filtering through a mental list of eligible bachelors in hopes of putting a face to the name.

“With you as a sister it’s hard to believe I’ve been courted at all,” Selma replies sarcastically.

Just as you’re about to quip back with a smart remark, Martina interrupts. “He claims to be a visitor, Your Highness.” She places special emphasis on ‘visitor,’ but you’re still not sure what to make of it.

“Martina, you know how I feel about visitors during the social season. If they haven’t been invited, please turn them away,” you say as you stand from your seat and walk closer to your sister.

“Oh, please! Don’t be so hardened, sister. Surely this…” Selma pauses and looks towards Martina for a moment.

“Lord Sturniolo.”

“Ah, yes. Thank you Martina,” Selma turns back to face you, “Surely this Lord Sturniolo is here to deliver some important news. Perhaps it is exciting news. Maybe even life changing!”

You roll your eyes, Selma always tried to make you see the light in a world full of darkness. She was too naive for her own good.

“Either way, I do not enjoy receiving unannounced and uninvited visitors,” you reply.

Martina speaks again, “I’m sorry, ma’am. He said the visit would be quick, but it did seem important. I can turn him away if you’d prefer it?”

A sigh falls past your lips. How rude would you be if you turned away a visitor, a lord at that? Sure, you had the respect that came with wearing a bejeweled crown on your head, but humility was still your strong suit.

“No, that won’t be necessary. You can send him in.”

As soon as you give her the confirmation, Martina turns on her heels and flutters out of the room quickly like a busy honeybee.

You’re anxious, mostly because you know this visitor will be looking at you as some sort of authority, but also because you���re not sure what would warrant such an unexpected visit. Selma stands next to you, looping an arm around yours in solidarity, and working towards soothing your nerves with kind words.

“Be calm, sister. I’m here with you.” You exhale deeply, immediately feeling a wave of relief wash over you.

“Thank you, Selma. I’d be lost without you.”

The sound of metal clanging becomes louder as the unknown man approaches the tea room, accompanied by the all too familiar sound of Martina’s clacking heels.

A man with long black hair enters the room, his silver armor shining brightly against the sunlight that illuminates the room. His sword is tucked away in its respective sheath and his helmet is tucked under his arm.

He’s quick to show his respect with a bow. He faces you first, “Your majesty.”

You return the sentiment with a curtsy, “Lord Sturniolo.”

“Princess Selma.” He bows in front of your sister as well, and you swear she almost swoons and faints as she begins to curtsy.

“Quite a beautiful estate you two share. Quite a beautiful country, actually,” he comments, eyes dancing over Selma’s figure a little too long. Selma must like the attention because her cheeks turn a rosy red and her eyelashes bat until she’s almost fluttering away.

“Thank you, My Lord. Kind words go a long way in Solara,” Selma says.

You clear your throat. “To what do we the owe the pleasure of this visit, Lord Sturniolo?”

“Yes, My Lord. Are you not aware that it is calling hour?” Selma asks, taking a flirtatious tone.

Selma’s playing all of her cards. You see it in the way she bats her eyes.

Maybe it’s because you’re her older sister, and the Queen at that, but you cringe. You can’t suppress the awkward, interrupting cough no matter how hard you try. And you definitely can’t escape the cold glare she sends your way.

Chris sends Selma a smirk, before returning his attention to you. “I was not aware that it is calling hour. Had I known, I would’ve made this trip on pleasure instead of business.”

Chris pulls a letter out, “I’ve come to deliver an invitation. My older brother is to be crowned in a week time.”

Your take the letter, delicate fingers peeling it open. “Thank you for your kind gesture, Lord Sturniolo. I will hand this over to the councilmen and have them arrange everything immediately.”

“Of course, Your Majesty. Thank you for receiving me,” an awkward pause interrupts him mid sentence as he debates whether or not to ask to stay. Chris debates against it when he notices the impatient expression that paints your face. “I think I should be on my way now if I’d like to make it home before morning.”

He bows, looking Selma up and down one last time before turning on his heels. One of his hands tussles through his long hair, slicking it back before throwing on his helmet.

Selma points at him with her eyes, silently begging for you to ask him to stay. ‘No,’ you mouth, sending her a stern look.

But even the Queen has a weakness.

“Please, sister,” she begs almost inaudibly. Her big doe eyes glisten as her bottom lip juts out. *1

You sigh heavily and roll your eyes.

Just as Chris is about to exit the room, you stop him. “Wait, Lord Sturniolo. Stay and join us tonight for dinner. I’ll have the cooks prepare something special for tonight, you must be hungry after your journey.”

Chris smiles, he was hungry actually.

“Thank you, Your Highness. A warm meal would do me good.” His voice is muffled behind the helmet, but his gratitude is evident regardless.

—

Silver cutlery dances along your plate as you engage in light conversation with your sister and Chris. It’s not like Selma’s flirting will let you ask Chris any meaningful questions.

You hate to play the ‘older sister/ Queen’ card, but Selma’s flirting is getting out of hand and you have a multitude of doubts swirling in your mind.

“If I may ask My Lord, do they make a habit of sending you to deliver messages in Eclipsum?” Selma asks as she digs her knife into a particularly tough piece of meat.

Chris is mid bite. Throughout the entire meal, he’s struggled to balance his hunger with his desire to chat your sister up. So far, he’s remained hungry.

He swallows dryly, a calloused hand begging for patience.

“Eclipsum’s undergoing a necessary change at the moment, Princess. I’m not usually in charge of delivering messages, but when they’re as important as this one, the future King trusts no one other than me,” he replies, immediately returning to the food in front of him.

Selma is ready with a reply, but if you want to take any part of in this conversation then you need to cut in as soon as possible. So you do, “Why is this message so important, My Lord? I take it your brother’s coronation was announced long before the social season began.”

“Yes, well that was my eldest brother Nick,” he replies mindlessly through mouthfuls of food.

Curious about what he means, you press further. “Is it not the eldest brother who inherits the crown?”

Chris coughs, trying to stop himself from choking on his food as he realizes what he just let slip. You can tell he’s becoming nervous, but the truth will come out eventually.

“Yes, well… you see,” Chris takes a deep breath, looking up at you through the hair that falls over his eyes. He places his utensils on the table, racking his brain for the correct response.

“You see, Your Highness, complications have risen in Eclipsum. I cannot go into too much detail, but I can say that the crown has since been inherited by my second eldest brother.”

Selma looks just as shocked as you.

“May I ask why the invitation was extended to us, My Lord? Solara and Eclipsum have never been necessarily involved when it comes to these matters,” Selma chimes in.

“Powerful countries must form alliances should they want to remain powerful,” Chris replies, offering you and Selma a quick smile before digging back into his meal.

—

Crashing waves are heard from the Eclipsum shore, a fog forming as the water slaps against the muddy sand. The sun is setting, slowly disappearing past the horizon and painting the sky a beautiful shade of purple. Matt sits alone, the old wooden dock beneath him groaning as he sways one leg back and forth in the water. His other leg is propped up, a lazy arm resting there to serve as a pillow for his head. His long hair settles just under his eyes, shielding his vision enough so that he only sees the black ocean that pushes and pulls around him. Matt’s mind is plagued with stress and worry, the only reason he’s even here is to escape the reality that awaits him back at the castle. This is meant to be his happy place, it is his happy place, yet he’s anything but.

The sudden sound of trotting hooves rings in his ears, alerting him of someone’s unexpected arrival and breaking him from his thoughts. “Matt?” a tentative voice asks, pulling on the horses’ reign hard enough for it to stop. There are only two people in this entire kingdom who refer to him by his this, everyone else opting for far more formal titles.

Reluctantly, Matt averts his eyes from the ocean, looking up to see none other than his youngest brother, Chris. The moon has replaced the sun’s place in the sky, the soft luminescence reflecting on the suit of armor that adorns Chris’s body. The white stallion Chris sits on adds to his strong, knightly demeanor, and if Matt didn’t know any better, he might’ve let himself get intimidated by the long sword that hangs on the armor’s sheath.

Matt doesn’t have to reply, or ask what Chris is here for, he already knows. Using one hand, he pushes himself off the wooden dock, a low grunt following as he dusts off dirt and debris. His attire completely juxtaposes Chris’s, a flowy, long sleeve white top flapping in the wind as he walks over to his brother. Matt places a gentle hand on the stark white stallion that stands before him, caressing its face before finally providing Chris with his full attention.

“Get on. I’ll take you back,” Chris instructs, a strong chin pointing to the rear end of the horse. Matt mulls it over, deciding whether or not to accept the invitation, before deciding that he’d rather prolong the process, “No it’s okay, thank you. I think I’ll walk.”

Chris shrugs his shoulders, steering the mare back into the forest before whipping the leather rope so that the horse picks up a steady pace. Matt watches as Chris disappears behind the treeline the further the horse trudges into the forest.

Slowly, Matt begins the long walk back to the castle, each footstep being met with the bioluminescence of the ground beneath his feet. A soft sigh escapes his lips as he takes one last look behind him, a faint, faraway kingdom coming into view.

For a second he wonders what it would be like to live there instead, but shrugs the thought off as the fog that rises from the ocean completely engulfs the view. *2

—

Soft waves slap against the boat as it comes to a stop on a foggy, moonlit shore. You pace back and forth downstairs under the deck, attempting to regulate your breathing with deep breaths that become ragged quickly.

Martina flutters behind you, trying to match your pace so she can adjust details on your gown. You’re an anxious mess.

Your corset is too tight, your dress is too big, your hair is beginning to weigh on your head, and to top it off this is the first official appearance you’ll be making as Queen outside of Solara.

As Martina fusses over you, you find yourself becoming increasingly irritated.

“Martina, could you please—” You shout, “Please just leave me be! For one second!”

Her hands shoot up in the air, a tight lipped smile forming on her face as she holds back tears before she quietly exits the room. As soon as the door clicks closed, and you hear her footsteps shuffle up to the ship’s deck, you let out a sigh of relief and slump onto the bed.

The wooden bed frame creaks as you sink into the mattress. You’re trying to keep your composure and you never meant yell, but this is all so overwhelming for you.

Your eyes squeeze shut as you try to think of anything other than the nerves that surge through your body. Your mind immediately wanders to memories of your childhood and of your mother, putting you in an even more emotional and vulnerable state.

Just as your heart beat has been regulated, Selma bursts through the door without warning.

“Why have you yelled at Martina?!” She asks, her voice booming through the small room. The look on her face makes you feel worse.

“Selma, it was a misunderstanding. All I needed was a minute alone,” you reply, sitting up to get a better view of your sister.

“That does not seem like a well enough excuse to me. All Martina ever does is help and you’ve gone and upset her! Queen or not, you owe her an apology.”

“I shall apologize when everyone is calm.”

“You’re right, you shall. And you shall also make haste because everyone is waiting and we don’t have all day.” With that Selma stomps out of the room and slams the door shut, almost breaking the aged wood from the sheer force.

You throw yourself back on the bed, anxiety once again at an all time high. How were you meant to portray a powerful Queen when you felt so helpless?

—

“Queen Y/n! Princess Selma!” Chris exclaims, waving a hand in the air briefly as he calls you two over.

The coronation was quick and easy, and now that it’s over you don’t know why you were so anxious to begin with. Nobody has paid you any particular attention, most eyes were too busy trying to catch a glimpse of the new King.

You even found yourself narrowing your eyes and crooking your neck to see his face, but for the most part he had his back to the crowd and kept his head hung low.

“Lord Sturniolo!” Selma matches Chris’s energy, her heart skipping a beat as she pulls you in his general direction.

“You cleaned up quite beautifully,” Selma jokes, gawking at Chris’s elegant attire. A slight blush forms on his cheeks.

“Thank you both for making the trip, I hope it wasn’t too much trouble,” he says, a smile so bright it could blind you adorning his face.

“Oh it was nothing really,” you reply, but in reality you would’ve preferred to stay home. Eclipsum was dreary and the sun rarely had a chance to shine through the foggy, cloudy sky. Not to mention the fact that you have yet to meet the King; the sole purpose for your travel.

“Although I did hope to meet that famous brother of yours,” you continue, eyes scanning the room in hopes of finally seeing the King.

Chris’s eyes follow yours, he’s been hoping for the same all night, but Matt always managed to keep hidden even when he was meant to be the center of attention. Who could blame him, though? He was just crowned not only in jewels, but also in responsibility.

“Matt— I mean, the King has always been good at hiding.”

‘Matt.’ The name helps you understand and humanize him. He must be struggling like you were when you first became Queen.

“I’m sure he’s being kept extremely busy with all this company. We shall meet him soon, Sister.” Selma’s arm remains looped around yours, the other gesturing to the ballroom full of people as she creates a steady flow of conversation with Chris.

Chris chuckles, he found your sister’s positivity endearing, but he knew Matt was sequestered away from society by choice.

“Will you both be staying in Eclipsum?” Chris asks, attempting to change the topic.

You and Selma answer simultaneously. She says yes and you say no.

“I suppose we shall be staying then. A few days shouldn’t hurt,” you laugh. Selma’s gaze remains on Chris, they were clearly falling in love and here you were stuck babysitting your sister in a foreign country.

You huff in annoyance, “I shall need some time alone.” Selma waves you off, so engaged in conversation with Chris that nothing else matters.

So much for power.

—

MASTERLIST, SERIES MASTERLIST

A/n: I know you all want them to meet already, but trust ITS COMING. For everyone who’s been asking for part two, hope I enjoy! 😏 more coming soon

muah muah muah 💋 luv u all

- L.A.M.B💗👼🏻

—

1* not the bottom lip JUTTING out

2* yes this is the same part from the teaser. Why? Because I was teasing it 🤓

—

taglist: @nickgetsmewetter @sturniololovers @raysmayhem-72 @worldlxvlys @gnxosblog @meg-sturniolo @creamoncreamoncream2 @mattnchrisworld @sanyi5 @lustfulslxt @whicked-hazlatwhore @tworosesblackthorn @mxqdii @fawned01 @junnniiieee07 @sturniolololover @missriddle03 @k-l-a-w-s @maryx2xx @biggesthat3r @herxyzblog @getosuckers @sturnioloarchive @tillies33ssss @fratbrochrisgf @aurizp @riasturns @sturnikitty @sturnrc @sturtriple16 @sillyfreakfanparty @imwetforyourmom @mattslovelygf @certifiednatelover @cartiiwannagotoplutoo @luvr4miya @somegirlfromasgard @l0vergrlll @pepsicolapussy333 @unbruisable @sugrhigh @khxna @wh0resstuff @jnkvivi @callsignwidow

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[thefishermansharbor]

The M6 proposing to you!

The arcana x GN!Reader 

Julian Devorak:

Julian is an excellent actor. In all different ways, if something is bothering him - only those who know him very best can understand that something is wrong. And right now especially, he was thanking the arcana that he was such an excellent actor. Because that way he could conceal his plan from you. 

You walk into the study. “ You needed me, honey? Is something wrong?” you ask.

“ I was just curious about something, dear.” He says, extra sweetly. He has his tie on, and his eyepatch off. Whatever he’s thinking about is something serious. “ .. Have you ever thought about officiating a certain thing?” 

“ .. what ‘thing’ are you talking about, Jules?”

He sighs, and smiles.  He sweeps all of his desk’s contents to the floor, they make a loud clatter sound against the hardwood floor.  He knew that this was not the time to put on a false face and act, this was the time to speak straight from the heart.

Julian can feel his worries about this fall away. The endless and long nights of staying up to rehearse and plan for this now felt.. silly. So incredibly silly, what good is pretending to be someone else in the moment he should most definitely just be himself? He was going to do this his own way. To say the things he truly feels, and not some silly pre - written words. 

There’s only one thing left on his desk, a pearl ring. It’s not even in a box, it’s just sitting there, only accompanied by a second ring. He stares into your eyes, a cheeky smirk on his face. 

“ Officiating our relationship, of course. Would you do the honor of marrying me, dear?” 

Asra Alnazar:

Asra sighed, thinking of you. The truth was ever since he’d known that you loved him just as much as he loved you, he had been thinking of you. You were so unbelievably perfect in so many ways to him. Everything about you, your looks, your thoughts, your feelings.. He cherished it. It had been taken away from him - and he never fully recovered. 

Asra worried that something else would split the two of you apart again. He really did, but then an idea crossed his mind. Marriage. You two had been talking about it before you caught the plague, and he started to think that it was a way to truly solidify your connection. 

He waited for you at the fountain garden. A place that was special to the two of you. It was the early summer, a june evening. His favorite time of day during his favorite season. What better place? 

As the noise of the castle slowly drifted off behind you, you came into Asra’s view. He had said to you that he wanted to tell you something important. He stood up from the edge of the fountain, his soft smile widening. 

“ Hello, my love.” 

“ Hi, Asra.” You say. He takes you hand and squeezes it gently. His eyes stared into yours. A breeze passed through the garden, the purple sky in the background made your lover look simply stunning.

“ .. I told you this morning that I wanted to tell you something. I’ve been waiting, ___. I’ve been waiting a long time.” 

You listen, you could never know how carefully he’s considered every word and rehearsed it before now. He wants nothing more than for this to be as special as possible for you.

“ … but now the wait is finally over, my love.” He kneeled, taking out a small pouch, and taking one silver ring with both of your initials inscribed into the inside of it. 

“ Will you marry me, ____ ?”

Lucio Morgasson:

Lucio sat up in bed, covered in cold sweat. He had a dream about you, and it could only mean one thing - he was being stupid. He was stupid not to marry you, you’re the most perfect person to him. You’re beautiful, perfect, and kind. He couldn’t think why he hadn’t yet put a ring on you. 

He ran over to his own jewelry box, ransacking it for rings. Anything would do. All he knew is that he wanted you, and he wanted you now. He found one that looked like it might be your size - and before he knew it, he was running down the hall. 

You’d said to him earlier that you’d be working on a project with Portia in the library tonight. He ran as fast as he could down the hall. Once he got there, he banged on the library door until Portia opened it. 

“ .. Sir Lucio? What are you doing here?” She said, surprised. He was out of breath, and looked over Portia’s shoulder and saw you reading. 

“ out of my way, Portia–” He said, shoving and squeezing past her. She let him get by, standing there confused. 

He ran up behind you, tapping your shoulder. He was a man on a mission, nothing could’ve stopped him from getting what he wanted at that moment. You turned and looked at him,

“ Lucio? What is it?”

“ .. “ He stared at you for another second before acknowledging himself. Still a bit out of breath, and grabbed your shoulders before waving the ring near your face like a mad man.

“ .. marry me, here. Now.” 

Nadia Satrinava:

She wanted to extravagant, she really wanted it to be a story you talked about for the rest of your life together. She had several servants, wedding planners, event planners, and even some family members invited to the palace to help her come up with the best plan she could. She only allows the best for you. 

She thought long and hard about what to do, but eventually she decided on something she thought you’d like. She made a reservation for a small pizza restaurant. It was old fashioned brick-oven pizza, something she thought you’d like. 

Nadia sat at the restaurant, waiting patiently for you. She had sent a carriage to the magic shop a little over 20 minutes ago. She shifted in her seat, she’d really dressed up for the event. She had painted her nails a deep red, the perfect manicure to show your rings off with. 

“ .. Oh, Nadia, sweetie, I’m so sorry I’m late!” You say apologetically, rushing over to the table from the front. “ A customer knocked over the buckwheat frogskin and then I had to spent an extra half hour helping her clean herself up, and then cleaning the group.” 

She pulled out your chair for you and give you a kiss on the cheek. “ It’s quite alright, darling.” 

She sat back down and across from people, smiling at you. She’d planned to do it towards the end of the meal, but as soon as the bread came - she just looked at how beautiful you were. You were so beautiful and kind all the time.. Something came over her, and she stood up out of her chair. 

She nearly knocked into a waiter, but she got down on a knee, and put her hand on your knee. 

Nadia stares, she’d never been so confident in a decision. Ever. 

“ Darling, Would you marry me?”

Muriel the outsider:

He was nervous about asking you. It was a large step in life, but you had helped grow into a better and more confident person, and he couldn’t imagine asking this of anyone else. 

You’re sat near the fire with Inanna, journaling while Inanna’s asleep on your lap. The only thing that can be heard is your occasional laughter and Inanna’s soft snoring. Muriel smiled at you. He knew you were the one. The person, HIS person. 

He walked up behind you, and sat down next to the two of you. He loved the way you looked at him, so full of love - and never full of fear. He tries to speak, but the words die in his throat. How is he supposed to do this? 

Muriel takes a deep breath and stares at you. From your perspective, it looks a bit like he’s glaring as hard as he can. It makes you a bit nervous.

“ Hey, Muri. Is something wrong?” You ask, concerned about him. 

“ I.. you.. Please, maybe– if you think you want.. W-we could.. I think that..”

He stumbles on his words, blushing. He puts a ahand over his face, you’ve been together so long and yet you still fluster him so very much. 

He decides it’s best to just get it over and done with, the words come out bluntly but they’re still endearing and sweet. 

“ I want to marry you!” He says loudly, but then he realizes how awkward he looks and his gaze softens. “ .. Please say yes.” he whispers.

Portia Devorak:

Portia knew she wanted to take advantage of her charm when it came to you. If there’s two things she loved, it was life at sea - and you, OF COURSE. One time while you were re-stocking the ship at one of the towns, she brought you off away from the crowd and onto a much smaller sailing boat.

It was perfect. The late afternoon sun on the harbor and coastline, it was just the two of you. With the exception of a sailor who was manning the boat while Portia romanced you. She was incredibly patient and listened a lot more than talked - you could sense something was different about this date, she almost always did most of the talking. 

She had been very patient that day. She knew what she wanted, and she was ready to make that happen. She waited until the very best moment to ask, when the sun was setting and you were least expecting it. 

She scooted a little closer to you, putting her hand on top of yours. She smiled, taking something out of her pocket. 

It’s a pearl ring, perfectly your size. It’s beautiful, and you gape at it.. Too happy to realize that Portia’s started talking, finally you look over and she smiles at you. She loves you so very much. 

“ Could you make me the happiest woman ever and marry me?”

[nobodysuspectsthebutterfly]

Thoughts about the supposed direction Rhaena's storyline is going in Hotd and the apparent Nettles erasure? Disappointing but... I can sort of see where they could take it? Idk... looking at grrm's posts in hindsight kinda makes me even more disappointed if he is as well (he just can't get his adaptations right atp but idk)

Well. Pre-ep7, we're still pending any Rhaena-Sheepstealer bonding, but I'm basically 😑🫠 about the rumors. (I dislike borrowing trouble, I'm not even sure how many of the rumors are true -- actually I'm pretty sure many of these supposed "leaks" are straight up lies -- and yet. Still *disgruntled meh* and *"we're all fine-everyone's fine here" dread*.) Rhaena is one of my more beloved F&B characters (it's the Sansa parallels, I can't help myself), and Nettles has been a super fave since TPATQ and TWOIAF. (Particularly TWOIAF, since the Burned Men fire-witch reveal; heck, I think my little dollmaker is still one of the few fanarts of Nettles in the mountains.)

I mean, sure, I understand that Rhaena's book storyline during the Dance, where she's offpage from basically the start of the war until nearly the end of it, socializing in the Vale and waiting for her egg to hatch, would be difficult to adapt in an action-oriented visuals-oriented television show. (Like Rhaenyra this season sure isn't just catatonically crying from Luke's death until Jace's.) And I'm glad Rhaena's getting more to do, and I'm glad it's directly addressing her feeling slighted and ignored by her family since she doesn't have a dragon. However...

I do not want Rhaena merged into one character with Nettles! I do not want Rhaena to have Sheepstealer and not her hope-for-the-future (doomed hope, and yet) baby dragon Morning, that hatched for her. Also note how pink Morning, worn as a fashion accessory, so suited Rhaena's coquette personality vs her sporty, adventurous twin sister... I mean, I've said before, I understand adaptations can be different, this still wouldn't make HOTD even close to a "loose adaptation".* But I do not want this adaptation to lose Rhaena's personality that I loved.

Or for that matter, to lose Nettles's character, and her importance to the themes and worldbuilding of ASOIAF. (See also.) And her importance to the plot -- but god knows, they're doing all sorts of things with Daemon and Rhaenyra on this show, toxic romance or what have you, who knows if once Daemon reaches his emotional breakthrough or whatever at Harrenhal this season, if they want to backslide him into a cheating plot in S3 while Daemon is again stuck in a castle for months.** Nevertheless, I'd be deeply disappointed to lose scenes like "as well as her dragon, the girl had taken to riding Daemon", or the last morning in Maidenpool scene... and um, you can't really fit Rhaena in there, or if you did, it would certainly put the lie to the ship denialists' "he just treated her like a father, platonically bathing naked together!" (Also the pretty blatant fake S3 leaks including one where Rhaenyra decides Rhaena has betrayed her... are pretty blatantly fake, sorry.)

And then there would be the frankly racist erasure of the one book black character. "Oh but the show made the Velaryons black, so it's not erasing, it's adding more!" No, sorry. (1) I was and am all for adding more racial diversity to the show and especially to Valyrians, but face it, when you take the book's secondary character Velaryons, two who get killed off early and are portrayed as lesser to the "true" Daemon/Rhaenyra marriage, and make them black, you've already done a lot of hinky damage there. (2) What, it's that hard to write three distinct black girls with very different personalities and one from an incredibly different background? I don't see Addam and Alyn getting merged. I don't see Aemond and Daeron getting merged. I don't see Hugh and Ulf getting merged. But I'm not really one to speak here, for this particular discussion I'd point you to @ride-thedragon and @venusintheblindspots-blog and @chrkrose, among others, they have many many posts on this subject in far greater detail and better argued than mine.

OK, so. I still have hope that Nettles -- even if not cast for this season (sorry y'all, that extra is an extra) -- may appear next season, and all this worry will turn out to be a tempest in a teapot. Per last report from the HOTD panel at SDCC, the rumor of Rhaena and Sheepstealer definitely doesn't happen in ep 7, though, yes, there's one episode after. And if it does happen... I'll be strongly disappointed. Deeply, deeply disappointed, and probably far more suspicious of future adaptational changes. But, for me at least, it's not a dealbreaker like GOT S5 was.*** I won't be happy at all about the storyline, but I would like to think the show will remain high quality re themes and character and all. Time will tell, though. Time will definitely tell.

As for GRRM, when his complaints seem to be "wild dragons shouldn't be in the Vale" and "the heraldry with four legs is wrong", well, I struggle to see that he's that disappointed in the adaptational changes. Believe me, I am well used to reading between the lines re GRRM and adaptations, something like the fact that he's not visiting the HOTD writers' room when he's in the UK is nothing. Catch me if at Worldcon or his Oxford lecture in August, GRRM again says that he could write a whole novel about Nettles, or if actually says something about non-Valyrian dragonriders, ok?

*I was just reading up on The Beast (2023) vs Henry James's “The Beast in the Jungle”. lol HOTD doesn't compare. Don't even think it, man.

**You know, this reminds me of how the Dance in F&B is not paced very well for individual characters, they keep going offscreen for months at a time. From shortly after Rhaenyra's crowning to the Fall of KL, Daemon just sits at Harrenhal and occasionally ventures out into the riverlands. From shortly after the Fall of KL until the Battle Above the Gods Eye, Daemon just... sits at Maidenpool and occasionally ventures out into the riverlands (with Nettles). Yeah, obviously a show would need to write more for him to do, he's a main character.

***Thank god HOTD isn't the sort of exploitative shitshow that GOT was. All y'all thinking it was a better adaptation because of your nostalgia goggles (and/or shitty memory) need to actually reread the books (especially AFFC/ADWD) and then submit yourself to the real-world misogynist and homophobic nonsense of S5-6 again, ugh.

[thatsmzbitchtoyou]

Norsemen & Anglo-Saxons Chapter 1

Here's the new story! I hope y'all like it.

Summary: Princess Y/N has a secret that her parents are ashamed of.  A conquering Viking chief recognizes the gift she has.  Will they be able to bring peace between warring people, and maybe find love along the way? Viking!Bucky Warnings: eventual smut, abuse, violence, animal attack, blood

Next chapter

The New Year was upon them.  The castle was bustling with maids and squires decorating and scrambling to get everything ready in time. The halls were filled up with garlands, pinecones, dried oranges, berries, and candles lit every ten feet.  A large tree had been hauled into the great hall during Christmas Time and decorated with the same oranges, berries and pinecones, as well as ornamental pieces that shone through the branches in the candlelight.  The last seasonal ball was to be held in a few days time, and the noble families from all over the Isles had traveled in to be part of the festivities.

Princess Y/N watched the chaos in boredom as her little brother Prince Alfred, or Alfie,  ran around the room with a stream of ribbon in hand, singing holiday songs at the top of his lungs.  As much as she loved and adored him their age difference was definitely apparent during these moments.  “I watched three ships come sailing in on Christmas day on Christmas day…”

“Alfie if you sing that wretched song one more time I will–”

“You will do nothing,” her mother, Queen Eugenia interrupted as she walked into the great hall to inspect the decorations.  “After all these years of training, you still resort to violence, you ridiculous child.”

“And you still call me a child when I near my thirtieth year, Mother,” Y/N spat back.  “Perhaps my penchant for violence comes from my frustration with said training and the constant degradation of my age and ability.”

“Your petulance and independence has made you unmarriable and therefore a thorn in my side,” Eugenia sighed.  

“There have been no, as you and Father called them, “suitable” suitors to marry me off to, Mother.  And this,” she held out her hand, opening her palm, wherein a green orb of light appeared, “scares you both to death.”

“Put your hand away!” Eugenia ran over and slapped Y/N’s hand down before anyone could see.  “Stop being so careless!”

Y/N rolled her eyes.  “Yes, Mother.”

Eugenia sat next to her.  “You will attend tonight’s ball, dressed appropriately, with a smile on your ungrateful face and nothing but patient, polite mannerisms escaping that mouth of yours.  And you will not play tricks,” she looked pointedly at Y/N’s hands.

Y/N glared at her.  “Yes, Mother.”

Eugenia sighed again.  “Go get ready.”

Y/N left the great hall as Alfie continued singing away.  Her lady’s maid followed her as she roamed the halls towards her room.  The only ones who knew about her ability were her family, the royal advisory court and her lady’s maid.  No one had been able to figure out what to do with it.  She didn’t have a handle on it, either.  She could manipulate objects and people’s bodies to move how she wanted, heal minor injuries, and when touching someone she was able to see their thoughts and feel their feelings.  She could feel that there was something more to it, that her power had the potential to grow, and yet she and her ability had been tamped down so heavily from the moment she first started exhibiting it that she was unable to truly hone it and see what she was capable of.  The advisors had researched their history and fairy tale books extensively and could not find a rhyme or reason as to why she had this power.  The only reason she had not been burned at the stake as a witch was because her father thought it could be useful to him and his never ending battle against the Norsemen.

Y/N had only seen one Norseman in her entire life.  Her father had captured one after a horrible battle and brought him back from the battlefield.  He was what they called a Berserker, a Norseman warrior that would lose all sense of self-preservation and run into battle like a feral animal, like they were out of their minds and drunk with bloodlust.  Her father had put them in a room together, separated by a line of thin prison bars.  The Norseman didn’t try to attack her, just watched her intently.  Her father told her to try her powers on him, see what she could make him do.  Y/N had refused, so her father flogged her to try and make her submit.  The Norseman had become so incensed by her father’s mistreatment that he had broken through the bars, bending them like they were butter, and just as he was about to lay his hands on her father she threw her hands up.  The Norseman was encircled in the green light, stopping him midair.  Her father gave the first genuine smile towards her she had seen in years.  

The guards had shackled him and took him away shortly after that.  The look in his eyes as they dragged him away was one of shock and betrayal.  Y/N couldn’t stand it, and that night snuck through the castle to the dungeon.  She had found secret passages as a child that she used regularly, and slipped through undetected.  She stole the keys and found his cell.  He was awake, and when he heard the jingle of the keys he looked up at her.  His eyes widened and he scurried towards the farthest wall from her.

“I’m not here to hurt you,” Y/N had whispered, holding her hands up.  He watched her carefully as she unlocked the door and swung it open.  She had stepped away, giving him room to leave.  He had slowly walked out of the cell, watching her constantly.  He stepped away towards the nearest exiting door.  “Run,” she whispered as she backed away from him, keeping her hands up.

He stopped for a moment.  He cleared his throat and asked in perfect English, “Are you a witch?”

Y/N had blinked at him in surprise.  “I…I don’t know,” she answered honestly.  This man could kill her in a second without making a sound, and yet he merely nodded.  “Thank you, Drottning,” he bowed his head to her then ran off towards the door.

Y/N had never seen or heard from him again.  The castle had been abuzz with confusion and fear upon finding him missing the next morning, but they ultimately decided that the barbarian had his ways and wasn’t worth pursuing. 

Y/N had never trusted her father again after that day, and had steered clear of him whenever and however she could.  He only wanted her for her power and what it could do for him.  He didn’t love her, he didn’t love Alfie.  He was a true English King, hoarding power and wealth wherever he could.

Y/N dressed in her holiday best for the ball and begrudgingly entered the great hall later that night.  The party was in full swing, nobles dancing together as the music played, the King and Queen laughing madly at the jester performing in front of them.  The wine was flowing, making the crowd more rowdy by the second.  As Y/N ascended the stage where the King and Queen sat she saw two short legs poking out and found Alfie hiding behind the Queen’s wide throne chair.  She quickly walked over and pulled him into her arms.  “What are you doing here, Alfie?  It’s late, and this is no place for a young boy,” she scolded him.

“Papa said I had to be here, because I’m to be king, and this is what kings do,” he mumbled.  Y/N glared over at her father, who was drinking himself into a stupor.  Alfie was a mere 11 years old, and already her father was trying to sink his dirty claws into the little boy’s mind and heart.

“No, Alfie, this is not how kings should act,” Y/N reassured him as she ran her fingers through his hair.  “Let’s get you to bed.”

Suddenly there was a loud bang and a whistling as wind whipped through the hall from where the front doors burst open.  A thunderous roar from what seemed like hundreds of men swarming the hall filled the room, echoing through the high ceilings and making Alfie cover his ears.  Y/N held him close as she huddled behind the throne, concealing him and herself as best as possible.  There were shouts and screams from the nobles as the men started to cut many of them down, pushing and beating others as they made their way to the stage.

The King and Queen sat in shocked silence as they watched their guards and nobles die or be captured around them.  Y/N glanced around looking for an escape and saw men standing in the higher windows, pointing arrows at the royals.  She knew they were seen and so any attempt to run would be met with death.  

Heavy footsteps walked up the stage steps, and before she could even move large hands were hefting her and Alfie from behind the chair.  They ripped Alfie from her arms and she screamed, trying to get ahold of him again as he cried and tried to grab for her.  Y/N’s body was wrenched around and she came face to face with a familiar looking man.

“Hello, Drottning, remember me?” the Norseman from years earlier smiled at her.

“You!” Y/N breathed as her eyes widened.

The Norseman chuckled as he led her to the front of the stage to stand next to her Mother and Father who sat dumbfounded on their thrones, Alfie on the other side of them being held back by another man.  Y/N looked around and even through her fear was struck by the attractive nature of these men.  Most of them were spattered in blood and sweat from fighting, and yet she had never seen so many handsome men.  The yelling started to die down as one Norseman walked forward, assumedly the leader, the rest of them parting to let him through.  The one approaching her and her family was easily one of the most beautiful men she had ever seen in her life.  His long, dark brown hair was half tied back with braids that had ornaments of beads and metal cuffs attached to them.  His full beard was cut neatly and framed his pink lips, which were stretched into a menacing smirk.  His blue eyes shone bright like the ocean just after a storm, and she could see the mischievous glint in them as he scanned the family.  He was covered in Norse battle gear from just under his jaw to his feet, a large sheathed sword on his right side and a war hammer at his left.  His left arm was bare, and upon further inspection Y/N realized it wasn’t flesh, but some kind of metal, yet it looked and functioned like a normal arm.  He was huge, like all the other men, tall and broad.  His eyes settled on her and he appraised her, giving her a long look up and down.  Y/N straightened herself under his stare, refusing to bow or show weakness to him.  His smirk deepened at her as he looked back at her parents.

“King Henry, Queen Eugenia,” he greeted them in a deep, booming voice.  “I am James Barnes, Jarl of the Danes, or Norsemen as you like to call us.”  He nonchalantly took a half eaten pastry off the table closest to him and popped it in his mouth, chewing it slowly.  “What a lovely party.  We missed our invitation,” he said with a sly smile, making his men laugh heartily around him.

Henry just couldn’t help himself as he stood up.  “You aren’t wanted, heathens!  Leave immediately!”

“Now now, Henry, is that any way to speak to the ones who have conquered you?” James admonished him.  “I’ve come to make peace, and you want to scream insults?”

Y/N silently gasped.  Peace?  With the Norsemen?  

“Make peace?  While you murder my nobles and threaten my family?  That’s preposterous,” Henry scoffed.  Y/N glared at her father, silently wishing for him to shut up.

“Well you could either choose peace, or watch the rest of your nobles and your family die, starting with your heir,” James threatened, glancing at Alfie.  Y/N squirmed against the Norseman behind her at the threat.  “And we’ll make some stops along the way to some of your most prosperous cities and take what we need.  The choice is yours.”

“That’s no choice!” Henry yelled and then started to move towards James.  “You wretched, barbaric–”

A whistle sounded through the hall as an arrow was loosed.  It flew straight towards Alfie’s chest.  Y/N’s hand yanked out of the Norseman’s hand that was holding her and stretched toward her brother as she screamed, “NO!”

The arrow stopped, hovering right in front of Alfie’s heart, surrounded by the green light.  The men gasped, James staring at Y/N with an awestruck smile on his face.  “So it’s true,” he whispered.  Y/N flicked her wrist and the arrow went flying towards the wall and shattered.  Before she could even drop her hand James was in front of her.  He looked at the Norseman holding her back and nodded to him.  “Thor, is this the English witch of royal blood who freed you?”

The man behind her nodded and lightly shoved her into his arms.  James held her by her arms and looked down at her.  “What’s your name, Princess?”

Y/N could only stare at his bright blue eyes, her heart hammering in her chest at exposing herself and her ability.  “Y/N,” she whispered.  

“Y/N,” he repeated it like it was a prayer.  “I’ve been talking to the wrong person.”  He pulled her forward to face her family.  “Henry, you’ve been hiding something,” he chuckled as he plopped his chin on her shoulder so they were cheek to cheek and ran his fingers up and down her arms, the metal ones sending chills up her spine.  “She’s the one with power, not you.”  Henry glared at her, a hateful look on his face.  “Oh, I see,” James’ voice became sharper.  “You feel threatened by her, so you’ve hid her away, stomped on her potential to grow,” Y/N was nearly shaking as she felt the adrenaline rush through her.  “She’s a goddess among you pathetic royals,” he kissed the side of her head, “and you wanted to reduce her to a torture device.  You let the magic go to waste.”  He turned her towards him again and dipped his face to be at eye level with her.  “We have magic at home.  We can help you learn and grow,” Y/N’s eyes widened at him.  “So I ask you, Princess Y/N.  What do you choose, death or peace?”

Y/N exhaled a shaky breath as she stared at him.  As he touched her she let her ability slip into his mind.  She could find no lie in his words.  He and his people were tired, the constant war depleting their resources and wiping out families.  They won the battles more often than lost, but it had put a strain on their lives.  His mention of magic seemed real, too, with glimpses and flashes of things that were unexplainable popping up in his mind.  Y/N thought about her people and how the English had been begging for peace for years as well, all of it falling on her father’s greedy, prideful ears.  She could tell James was good, and only wanted good for his men and his people.

“I propose an allyship,” she said.  James blinked and his eyebrows furrowed at her.  “A peace treaty with a tradition as old as time,” she clarified, gulping quickly.  “We join our families in marriage.”  His eyes flicked between hers, like he was studying her.  His men around him mumbled as they considered the idea.  “If you are unmarried,” she amended, since she wasn’t sure, “or if someone in your nobility is unmarried, I will come with you as a peace offering, a marriage tribute.  You will have me, and my power, and leave my family and my people be,” she said, trying to look and sound every bit the princess her mother had always wanted her to be.  “And we will end this war and finally bring peace to our people.”

James stood straight, towering over her.  He watched her for another moment, then stepped back and looked to his men behind him.  Two of them walked up and spoke to him quietly.  Y/N waited on baited breath as they consulted with each other.  They stood back and he turned toward her again.  “Done,” he said simply, the smirk returning to his lips.  Y/N nodded and quietly sighed.  “My Drottning,” he spoke lowly, holding out his metal hand.  She put her right hand into his metal hand, admiring it.  

“What does that mean?” she asked him.

“My Queen,” he winked at her.  Y/N blushed deeply.  He turned to his men and held her hand up high in his.  “We have peace!” he yelled triumphantly.  The thunderous roar returned as they cheered, their hands and swords and axes held high as they hugged each other and drank some of the wine left on the tables around them.  James dropped their joined hands and kissed the hand he held, making her blush again.  “Say goodbye to your family, Drottning, we leave immediately.”

He let her go and she ran up the stairs towards her family.  She ignored her parents altogether, grabbing Alfie and holding him tight against her.  

“Don’t go,” Alfie cried as his fingers clutched her dress.

“I have to,” Y/N cried as she carded her fingers through his hair.  “You listen to me,” she knelt in front of him and held his face in her hands, “you remember what I’ve taught you.”  He nodded frantically.  “Do not listen to Father,” he nodded again, making her father sneer at them next to her.  “I’ve seen it in you,” she whispered, laying a hand against his heart then tapping her finger to her head.  “You will become one of the greatest kings England has ever known, as long as you don’t do as Father has done.  You will bring continued peace and prosperity, you hear me?”  She wiped his tears away.  “Because you are a good boy, and will become a great man.  My little king,” she kissed his forehead firmly before pulling away.

Alfie cried harder as she stepped away from him.  She turned to her father.  “Stay away from him,” she warned him, glancing at Alfie.  “I have procured a peace that you, and your father, and your father’s father could never have dreamed of,” she sneered back at him.  “Do good by our people, for once in your miserable life.”  She glared at him before turning back towards James who stood patiently waiting for her at the bottom of the stairs.  

His men were slowly retreating out of the great hall as he held his hand out for her again.  She took it as he flashed one last glance and triumphant smile at her father before leading her out the front doors.  As they walked through the courtyard and towards the horses waiting for them he glanced at her attire.

“Hm, this won’t do while riding,” he said as he twirled her around.  Y/N furrowed her eyebrows at him.  “Where’s your lady’s maid?”

Y/N looked around and saw the telltale eyes peeking from behind the stables.  “May,” she pointed.

James summoned her forward out of hiding.  She quickly ran across the courtyard and into Y/N’s arms, sobbing as Y/N pet her hair.  “Miss May, go fetch your princess’ riding clothes and some simple dresses for travel,” James instructed her.  May stared at him with wide eyes, looking at Y/N who nodded to her.  She was escorted back inside with Thor to get Y/N’s things packed.

As they stood there waiting, the snow started to fall.  Y/N looked up and sighed as the cold kissed her face, a welcome reprieve to her inflamed cheeks from the night’s tension.  She looked towards James who was already looking at her.

“What do I call you?” she asked him.  

“You can call me Bucky,” he said.

“Bucky?” she asked, a small smirk pulling her lips.

“A nickname,” he laughed at her perplexed look.  “Saved for those closest to me.  And since you’ll be my queen–”

“So it is you I’ll be marrying then?”  Y/N asked.

“Yes,” Bucky laughed harder.  “I guess I didn’t make that very clear.”

“Hm,” Y/N hummed.  “You have a very English name...James.”

“Yes,” he agreed, sighing as he looked at the falling snowflakes.  “We Norsemen and you Anglo-Saxons are not that different from each other,” he said with a twinkle in his eye as he winked at her again.  

Y/N pondered that as May came out holding Y/N’s riding clothes and boots with Thor holding a small trunk that he loaded onto one of the wagons they had waiting.  May ran back to Y/N.

“Go change, and then we’ll be off,” Bucky excused Y/N, who led May over to the stables.  They went into an empty bay and May quickly stripped Y/N out of her gown and into her riding clothes.

“My lady,” May said as she held Y/N’s crown in her hands.  Y/N looked at it and gingerly took it from her.  She stared at it for a moment before giving it back to her.  She gave May another hug.  

“Take it, my love,” she said as May sobbed in her arms again.  “Run away and marry that stable boy, Ben, and use it to live long happy lives together,” she said as she pulled away.

May nodded as she cried, gathering up the gown as she said goodbye.

Y/N came back out in her riding clothes.  She approached Bucky who was preparing his horse.  He mounted it and held his hand out to her.  She took it and he helped hoist her behind him on the saddle.  He wrapped her hands around his waist then she felt him tying her wrists together.

“What–” she started, trying to look over his shoulder.

“So you don’t run off,” Bucky cocked an eyebrow at her in warning as he looked back at her.

“I won’t,” Y/N promised.

“That’s what they all say,” Bucky chuckled before he turned to his men who were all waiting.  “To Danmark!!”

“To Danmark!” they all yelled, and the pounding of hooves rang through the night as they all rode out of the courtyard and into the English countryside.

Y/N’s arms tightened around Bucky, her head tucking in between his shoulder blades as the winter wind stung her face.  She was not going to run and wanted to prove it to him.  She wanted peace, even if it meant giving up herself to get it. After about an hour they all started to slow as they reached the water’s edge where multiple ships were docked, secured by other Norsemen who waited anxiously for them.

Bucky untied the rope around her wrists then dismounted.  He held his hands up to her hips and helped her down as well.  He inspected her wrists, giving them a short rub.  “I’m sorry,” he whispered as he pressed a kiss to each wrist.  Y/N was surprised at his affection, but welcomed it in the moment.  He pulled her towards one of the boats.  He helped her step onto it and settled her into a corner of the stern that was covered in furs and quilts.  He pulled one of the furs up and covered her with it, securing it around her shoulders.  There was plenty of room around her as she got herself comfortable.

“It’s going to be a four day journey, Drottning,” Bucky kneeled in front of her.  “This area is for all of us to sleep, so you’ll have at least a few men next to you, but don’t fear,” he reassured her at the look on her face, “they’re harmless.  Just tired.”

Y/N looked around at the men loading themselves into the boat, many of them taking seats at the benches where the oars were sitting.  She felt worried but nodded at him.  He gave her a smile and stepped away to help load more things into the boats.  They all worked methodically together until in just a few minutes they were ready to pull off.  Bucky was stationed at one of the oars as well, giving the signal and they shoved off the shore.

Y/N watched the men in her boat and the others row in perfect unison.  She admired their strength and the way they all seemed to be of one mind as they worked together to get into a good rhythm, making the boat fly through the water.  The rhythmic rowing lulled her to sleep as she snuggled down into the furs below her.

She woke a few hours later.  It was still dark out, the rowing still going strong.  As she shifted to get more comfortable she felt a heavy weight around her waist.  She panicked until she turned and saw Bucky’s peaceful face sleeping next to her, his metal arm resting on her side.  Y/N looked down at the arm.  She admired its craftsmanship, unsure of how he was able to find or create such a thing.  Her fingers traced along the metal, the plates and divots carved like the muscles of a real arm would be.  When she reached his hand she lightly traced each finger with the tip of her pointer finger.  His hand suddenly moved to grasp her wrist.  She gasped as he gently maneuvered her to face him.  His eyes were still closed as he let go of her wrist then wound his metal arm around her back this time, holding her to his chest.  “Sleep, wife,” he mumbled, his voice coming out hoarsely as he kissed her forehead and rested his chin on top of her head.  

Y/N was stiff for a moment until the warmth enveloped her and she melted into his embrace.  She pressed her nose into his sternum and breathed deeply as her hands gripped the fur coat he was wearing.  He hummed as his breathing evened out and a soft snore rumbled in his chest.  It lulled her to sleep again, a small smile on her face.

**picture is A.I. from Pinterest, unknown original "artist" or "creator"**

[dark-and-kawaii]

we know a lot about Lofn and zevlor but what about Haarlep and Lofn? What is their life like

⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡ Eeee!!! Yes yes yes!!! I will happily answer this for you!!! Haarlep and Lofn are my original pair and their story is my absolute favorite xoxo They were tied together by an invisible stringer the moment they met.

₊˚⊹♡ Haarlep fits into the Thay family as though he were always meant to be there, a puzzle piece that completes the picture.

₊˚⊹♡ Once bound in chains of servitude by Mephistopheles, gifted to Raphael as a mere plaything- a cocksleve for the brat and any other who wished to use him… Haarlep now finds himself residing in Thay, the very city that so many devils in the hells feared, a place where he is now adored… and feared by enemies~

₊˚⊹♡ Lofn, had been the one to pluck him from his old life, freed him and taking him for herself, offering him a new existence filled with luxury and indulgence. And though the chains were gone, Haarlep found himself bound by a different kind of tether- one woven from affection and desire. She was now his sole obsession. Her curves and intoxicating scent was branded into his very soul. And each night he feasted upon her, he binds himself tighter to her,

₊˚⊹♡ The castle is his playground, and Haarlep plays his part with the finesse of a seasoned actor. War isn’t new to Haarlep, and his shapeshifting abilities become tools of deception and strategy, turning the tides of conflict in favor of the Thay family. At times he’ll even slip out without his princess knowing- in the guise of her he weaves through enemy lines, a siren song of seduction and menace just to keep her alive and safe. (She’s not happy when she finds out)

₊˚⊹♡ Though he usually enjoys lounging around the castle awaiting his little doves return, there are many times where he hides in the shadows, slipping through the corridors, through alleys, and streets with his eyes ever watchful over Lofn. She is his anchor, his sweet little princess, and he guards her with a possessiveness that borders on obsession. No hand dares to linger too long upon her, no gaze too bold, for Haarlep is always near, ready to remind those who forget that she is his.

₊˚⊹♡ They have one daughter that is Lofn’s absolute pride and joy. Despite originally wanting to consume the things soul while still growing within Lofn (fearful of the Lofn dying during birth), Haarlep now finds endless amusement in watching his little imp grab at his tail as he dangles it teasingly in front of her. Since her birth she has brought a new dimension to his existence.

₊˚⊹♡ Haarlep stretched languidly on the luxurious furs that adorned the bed he shared with his little dove~ his precious princess. His once vibrant red skin, now a soft color mimicking a human’s, was smooth and unmarked except for the scar that adorned his face- a reminder of his past with Mephistopheles… The shadow of Raphael that had clung to Haarlep's form, every feature that was his, once forgotten, now returned… Haarlep smiled softly and traced his finger down the length of his scar. He still remembered how his little dove looked at him with such love and concern after learning the story behind the scar. She had even kissed his scarred eye and asked if it hurt. So precious~

[takecareluv]

꒰ how to feel like a princess this summer ꒱ؘ ࿔*:･ﾟ

`✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹ you don't need a castle, a fairy godmother or a team of helpful little mice to make you feel like a princess in your day to day life. all you need is your sweetest, most confident self and you are good to go .ᐟ here are a few tips & fun activities to do by yourself ( because a princess always enjoys their own company ! ) or with a friend, whether it's the furry kind or a fellow princess.

✧ ˖ ° ₊ ⊹ : ˚ ೀ ⋆

⨾ first things first, while a princess loves to spend their days frolicking in nature and soaking up the sun, they always protect their skin using spf. so whatever adventures you decide to take on this summer ( and all year round ) , be tedious about applying sunscreen. i promise, your future self will thank you for it.ᐟ

⨾ princesses have a natural glow about them. whether it be from the graceful manner in which they carry themselves, their beautiful smile that lights up a room, or the radiance of their skin - a princess takes care of themself, inside and out. so, to feel like one, be sure to prioritize self care & self love. create a skincare routine that works for you. keep a rose water spray with you for a quick refresh throughout the day. wear light, glowy makeup like cream blush, a lip tint, and a good mascara to emphasize those doe eyes. and find a signature scent people will remember you by.

⨾ wearing soft and light fabrics - like lace and linen - will keep you as cool as possible, while also feeling cute during these hot summer months. whether it's flowing dresses or light linen pants ; sandals or sneakers ; florals & pastels to more natural, earthy tones - wear whatever makes your inner princess shine .ᐟ

⤷ plus, adding little accessories such as frilly socks, ribbons, pearls and other dainty jewelry can be a fun, but simple way to add an extra bit of delicacy to your day to day look.

⨾ try putting your hair up in loose styles - such as a braid - or keep it down and flowing with beautiful, bouncy curls. and again, the simplest style can be elevated to 'princess level' with little details like decorating your hair with flowers, butterfly clips or a headband; tying ribbons and bows into your up-do, or even adding a satin scarf.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ જ⁀➴

✿. summer can be the perfect time to find a new passion, or perhaps reignite an old one .ᐟ for example : taking up a language , learning about greek mythology , writing & reading poetry , learning to sew or crochet , or learning to play an instrument ( piano, flute, violin, etc. ) - there are so many different hobbies to try this season.

⤷ and even better, with the warm weather, you can do them all outside surrounded by the beauty of nature - birds chirping in the distance, a gentle breeze dancing through the trees, and the sun shining down on you.

✿. like i mentioned earlier, a princess's best friend is mother nature. they love to spend time engaging with any and all of nature's elements. here are some ways you can do the same . . .

✿. start your very own garden .ᐟ

whether it be filled with an assortment of vibrant flowers, or even a mix of fruits, veggies and herbs, a garden is a perfect way to create a serene and magical place to spend your summer days. you can even add a chair or maybe lay out a blanket for a quiet little reading spot. plus. . . with a garden in your midst, you can pick as many flowers as you'd like to create your own bouquets or make flower crowns for yourself and friends .ᐟ ⤷ filling your space with flowers will definitely make you feel like you are living in a fairytale 𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒

✿. visit a farmer's market or go berry picking .ᐟ

🍓 picking your own strawberries, blueberries, or any other fresh fruit & veggies can be a cute way to stock your fridge and find the ingredients for your next recipe. 🫐 baking is another great hobby to pick up - especially for during those stormy summer days you have to stay inside. breads, muffins, cakes, and jams - there's so many things you can make using the fruit you hand picked; and an added bonus, it will keep your kitchen smelling super yummy .ᐟ

✿. have a picnic .ᐟ

take yourself on a date or round up a group of friends for a picnic at the park or on the beach. you can pack a basket of macarons, sparkling cider, and any of your other favorite treats ; find the perfect spot to lay your blanket, and maybe even bring some reading material or a journal to write in .ᐟ

✿. feed the ducks .ᐟ

if you have a pond nearby, you can take a walk & bring something to feed the duckies, turtles, or any of the other sweet creatures swimming around in there. if not, you can also make homemade bird food and treat those hungry little birdies singing outside your house every day. it could also be fun to take a trip to a local farm or petting zoo and feed some animals that way .ᐟ ⤷ if you do any of these things, please remember to do your research on what foods are good for our little friends, be respectful, and clean up after yourself. princesses don’t litter .ᐟ

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ જ⁀➴

if the sun is not shining or you are looking for other ways to spend time like a princess, here are a few more ideas to add to your summer bucket list. . .

ᥫ᭡. take a trip to a museum and wander its halls, admiring the magnificent artwork in all its beauty.

ᥫ᭡. visit your local library or bookstore and spend the day picking out your next read.

ᥫ᭡. play dress up with your closest friends and have a tea party.

ᥫ᭡. try painting pottery. you could even paint & personalize your very own tea cup or jewelry box .ᐟ

ᥫ᭡. send a handwritten letter to a loved one or a pen pal. and while you’re add it, you can get some practice writing in cursive .ᐟ

ᥫ᭡. pamper yourself a little extra with a bubble bath - adding in rose petals, filling the bathroom with candles, and treating yourself to a plentiful amount of ladurée macarons - in good ole blair waldorf fashion.

࿐a princess always walks with their head held high. they know what makes them feel like their most confident self, and they don't shy away from it by trying to be anyone else. with that being said, always be your true, and authentic self - don't change just to fit a certain 'aesthetic' - take what you like from it, and leave the rest. it is important to do & wear whatever makes you feel comfortable, because in turn you will also feel your most beautiful - as a princess always should .ᐟ

xoxo, meg ♡

[koolkat9]

Dewy and Cozy

Spoilers for the last two seasons of MLP gen 4

Now it seems that Cozy getting redeemed is debated on, but whether you think she deserves it or not, or you think she wouldn't bother, I am just having fun and I love me a good redemption arc. Also, this is going on the headcanon that she actually is just a filly.

So Dewy, despite having moved out of the Castle with Luna and eventually marrying her, can't help but think back to Cozy. Despite having been imprisoned by her, Tirek and Chrysalis and doing battle with Cozy specifically, Dewy can't help but feel sympathy. I'm thinking that during their battle, Dewy brings up something about parents and it strikes a nerve with Cozy leading Dewy to suspect that maybe Cozy has got some parent baggage, and Dewy also having parent baggage (she was left at an orphanage when very young with no information about her family and no one came looking for her), the encounter is always at the back of her mind. She begins to wonder that perhaps if she didn't get a positive influence in her life from that local librarian she would have gone down a similar path, and she loved the Nightmare Moon story it seemed all the more possible.

A year or two later, Once everything calms down in her life after moving, settling in a new place and being away from her friends, the wedding, the honeymoon then settling into married life, Cozy and the potential parallels to Dewy's own life becomes more of a constant thought. She can't bear to tell Luna but perhaps going to visit the statue and talking to her friends, maybe even Twilight will help. So she tells Luna she's going to Canterlot for a girls' weekend.

Bramble admits that she also has started feeling bad whenever she passes by the statue, but still, what Cozy did was terrible. Dewy can't help but bring up all their current allies who threatened the world, how Starlight tried to reach out to Chrysalis, Cozy didn't seem to get that. Bramble not sure what to say suggests they just leave it. It's not their place. But Dewy won't take that and arranges to meet with Twilight to hear exactly how everything went down.

She questions Twilight about Cozy's punishment, both the first time and the time now. How she sent her right to Tirek. Did she even attempt to extend a hoof, fight for Cozy to be better like she did for Starlight? Twi says she let Cozy explain herself. Dewy shoots back that's not the same. How Twilight was patient, showing her the mistakes she was making despite how stubborn and cruel she continued to be, getting to the bottom of her motivation that way she could help show her a better way. Twilight argues Cozy was a student, if she was going to change she would have. Dewy says Cozy was different, the mindset Cozy was in, she needed different lessons. Deconstruct that idea that friendship would give her power through manipulation. Twilight falls silent and Dewy can't tell if she just made her angry or if she is actually considering what she said. Dewy, frustrated excuses herself.

She ends up bringing her concerns to Celestia and Luna who also share concerns. Even Luna who got her own redemption. They get into an argument and Dewy decides that maybe she needs some space to calm down. Originally she was going to go back to Canterlot to spend more time with her friends, but then she thinks back to argument with Twilight and thinks maybe Starlight could give her some advice, she'd understand this better than anyone.

Starlight is also hesitant, trusting Twilight and also personally victimized by Cozy, but Dewy pleads with her, reminding her of what Twilight did for her, and what Starlight herself did for the Pony of Shadows. Doesn't Cozy deserve to have some pony do the same? Especially since she's so young. Starlight agrees but bring up the concern of Cozy's manipulation. Dewy assures her that she plans on finding a truth spell or something of the like. Starlight agrees to help search.

Bramble comes around to Dewy's plan and starts helping her research that truth spell. Blaze, though still hesitant can see how much this means to Dewy and agrees to help looking into said truth spell. Starlight ropes in Trixie, tries to rope in Discord but still feeling guilty for his mess up pretending to be Grogar plus he doesn't really have anything to gain anyway.

With everything coming together, Dewy approaches Luna once more. Much calmer now, she admits that she's doing this not just out of the goodness of her heart. Part of it comes from seeing herself in Cozy and a lingering fear that she herself could have turned out like Cozy. Luna can sympathize also having wanted to help many ponies she saw herself in. She listens to Dewy's plan and seeing all the bases covered, agrees to bring it up with Celestia and Twilight.

Eventually they convince Twilight and some of the still hesitant members of the mane six and Cozy is freed. Cozy though scared tries to put on her innocent act, but Dewy and Luna shut that down. "I'm being merciful but not stupid," Dewy says. She explains she wants Cozy to do better, but also knows she's very clever and manipulative. So for the time being, she'll be under a truth spell as they determine if Dewy is right that Cozy can be better. Cozy is not happy about it, but at least she's out.

So Dewy tries her best to get through to her, trying to get her to help around the castle/city, but Cozy is not at all interested and is trying to worm her way out of it all. If anything she tries to cause trouble only to be shut down by Dewy and her friends. Dewy starts to doubt that bringing Cozy back was a good idea. Perhaps Twilight was right that she couldn't be redeemed, at least not now. Cozy ends up overhearing this and she's surprised to find it kind of hurts. As much as she wanted to return to her own plan, it was nice having someone vouch for the real her. But now...

Cozy ends up running away. Even with the truth spell still on her, she knows she's clever and she'll figure something out to regain power. But distracted by what has transpired she ends up running into trouble (still not sure what this trouble it. A monster of some kind probably, but I can't think of one where Cozy wouldn't easily out smart it but anyway...). Dewy comes to her rescue, putting her life on the line to save her. The two end up working together to get out of it.

From then one, Cozy is still a bit of a trouble maker with an ego, but she settles into this more calm life. She slowly opens up to Dewy about her difficult childhood. I read the idea once that Cozy was born to powerful unicorn parents and being a pegasus, they look down on her. I think this really makes sense with the line she says about power types relying on their magic instead of their brain which always gave me a sense of that as much as she craved power, she had a bitterness towards magic. Perhaps that was instilled in her by her parents disappointment in her despite being so clever. Dewy sympathizes with her over her own poor childhood providing further basis for a bond.

Anyway, Cozy makes a real friend for the first time, she ends up healing, gets a found family with Dewy and Cozy. And that's all I got so far other than Cozy ends up becoming a strategist for the royal guard when she is older, but I don't have much details on how she gets there.

[theforgottenmcrmy]

Honor~ Part 1/2 (Ser Harwin Strong x Reader)

᯽ Please note that this is an overall part 8 of the series “Growing Strong”, the masterlist of which can be found HERE ᯽

Pairing: Ser Harwin Strong x Tyrell! Female Reader

Warnings: GOT typical sexism, canon divergence, suggestive themes, violence

Summary: Honor was subjective; it meant different things to different people. That was one of the most difficult concepts you’d ever had to come to terms with, but that didn’t mean that it wasn’t a lesson worth learning.

A/N: Happy Halloween! 🎃 👻 I hope you guys are having a much better day/night than I am, cause your girl is going through it rn🥲 *handing out tissues* so, how are we feeling about the season finale, everyone?🥺 … on that note, I regret to inform you that these next two chapters will have some angst. I just ask that you hold off on throwing tomatoes at me until you’ve read it all. Part 2 will be up on Thursday 11/3.

As always, thank you all for the love🖤 eat all the candy you want today/tonight/whenever, you deserve it!🖤

Ser Laenor Velaryon was many things.

He was kind; he’d never laid a hand on Princess Rhaenyra. He’d been knighted at a young age, and had proved to be an asset to the Crown during the war in the Stepstones. He was daring; he’d claimed Seasmoke, one of the more nimble and faster dragons that the Targaryens boasted.

But, like all others, Ser Laenor also had his shortcomings.

As you purposefully entered the banquet hall you’d been directed to by a chambermaid, you frowned immediately at the sight that you were met with.

Ser Laenor was seated upon one of the tables in the middle of the room, apparently having decided that a chair was not suitable for such a purpose. His most recent companion, Ser Qarl Correy, was seated upon the table as well, right beside him. The pair talked loudly about something you couldn’t quite pick out the specifics of amongst their inebriated babblings.

You continued to watch with dissatisfaction as Ser Qarl raised a goblet of wine to you as a poor form of greeting before handing off said goblet to his drinking partner.

A few servants waited in the periphery of the scene, ready to jump in and assist the prince consort with whatever he may require at a moment’s notice. The looks on their faces ranged from neutral to weary.

“My Lord.”

Ser Laenor flinched at your bellow, but regained his composure fairly quickly. “Good morrow, Lady Tyrell!” He took another gulp of wine and before wiping his mouth with his sleeve. “How fare thee? Ser Qarl and I were just breaking our fast.”

The near empty plates beside and around their seated rear ends had gone unnoticed initially. You’d been far too distracted by the notion of Princess Rhaenyra’s husband and his companion already indulging themselves at such an early hour of the morn.

Ser Laenor inquired curiously, “To what do we owe the pleasure?”

“I was told the Princess’s labors are drawing to a close,” you informed him neutrally. “Perhaps you might be a bit more… coherent, when you go to her?”

“... Ah, yes, yes. Of course.”

Despite your increasing irritation with the situation, you knew better than to show it. You bowed your head and gave the pair a strained smile before excusing yourself without another word.

Ironically, Ser Laenor Velaryon’s degree of interest in his family was like the weather over the sea: constantly changing with the seasons and tides.

And, for all the many things that he was, Ser Laenor Velaryon had never been a particularly attentive father- a fact that had cultivated a dangerous situation for you and the ones closest to you over the past decade.

As you made your way through the halls of the Red Keep, headed back from whence you’d come, you realized with dread that the castle had begun to awaken for the day.

You were not naive; cruel whispers had never been foreign among the halls of the Red Keep. But it appeared that the vipers had only become more venomous over time.

And those brazen whisperers had not spared you as a subject of their poisonous words.

Though… you had hoped they might have.

You were the Lady of House Tyrell, Mistress of Highgarden, Defender of the Marshes, Lady Paramount of the Reach, and Wardeness of the South. In the ten years you had taken up your family’s seat, you had come to live up to both your father and brother’s names. With your husband’s unwavering support, you worked tirelessly to ensure that you earned your right to the family titles that King Viserys had declared belonged to you. Sleepless nights preparing contracts for the crops trade, countless hours of council meetings regarding the issues facing the noble and common people, and thousands, perhaps even millions of gold dragons invested back into your homeland and the people who lived and worked there had finally begun to pay dividends.

Most of your time throughout the year was spent in the Reach, as was what you deemed necessary to adequately fulfill your obligations. You were well respected there, with only some, though plainly, expected, dissension… primarily from the likes of those who resided over in Oldtown.

You’d have been content to stay in the Reach, but your loyalty and friendship to the Princess had repeatedly called you back for visits to the capital. At first, you had been regarded with the respect you had earned over your years of service to the Reach and the Crown.

But with each passing year, the esteem the other lords and ladies placed upon you slowly began to diminish. And now, most of your noble peers did not hesitate to reveal exactly what they thought of your… circumstances.

In passing, most of them only seemed to offer you one of three looks: a look of pity, sympathy, or disgust.

Pity, for how could you have “failed to keep” your husband’s attention?

Sympathy, for how could you be held responsible for your husband’s lustful “wiles”?

And disgust, for how could you have “allowed” your vows to each other and before the gods to have been soiled so easily?

If only they knew…

…

You must have had the gods’ favor that morning, for you managed to make your way through the Red Keep without happening upon too many others. That was just as well; you’d gotten hardly any sleep the night before, and if you had to tolerate another single pitiful look at that moment, you might not have been able to properly mind your tongue.

And that would be an awful slip that neither you, your husband, nor Princess Rhaenyra could afford.

As you entered princelings’ chambers, you were pleasantly surprised to be greeted with the voices that had been suspiciously absent when you’d awoken that morning.

All four of the boys had their backs turned to you as they played in front of the fire with their miniature knights and dragons. They were so consumed in their games of pretend that your sudden reappearance had gone unnoticed.

But you hadn’t gone unacknowledged by your husband.

Harwin, who had been ever so carefully watching over all four of them, saw you enter immediately. As you walked further into the room, he rose from his crouched position and gave you a soft smile. 

You watched the boys in silent amusement for a few moments before finally deciding to make your presence known. “There you are. I had wondered where the four of you might have wandered off to this morning.”

Just a few hours before, you’d been given a bit of a start. Right before the sun rose, you’d stirred from a less than pleasant sleep to find yourself alone in the room, despite having succumbed to your dreams sometime in the night to the sound of animated whispers of four young boys filling your ears. But you’d known there’d been little cause for panic; Prince Jacaerys and Prince Lucerys seldom made a move without eyes upon them. And wherever the young princlings went, your own sons were never too far behind.

Upon hearing your voice, all four of the boys turned and lifted their heads in your direction. They smiled and rose, before bounding over to you with excitement.

“Has there been any news?” Prince Jacaerys, or Jace, as Princess Rhaenyra had nicknamed him early on in his life, asked. He was the Princess’s oldest son, and nearly ten years of age. Though being third in line for the Iron Throne would have deemed him worthy of such attention regardless, additional interest had been placed on him shortly after his birth. Prince Jacaerys had been born with dark hair and eyes; he blatantly stood out in the sea of the other Targaryens he lived amongst.

“None yet,” you answered him truthfully. Upon seeing the disappointed look on the boy’s face, you quickly promised, “But soon.”

“We went to the dragon pit this morning!” your oldest son informed you enthusiastically, coming to stand beside Jacaerys.

Derrik, despite having been named in homage to your predecessor, bore little of the physical characteristics that had been passed down through generations of House Tyrell. At nearly ten years of age as well, just a few months younger than Prince Jacaerys, you imagined that he was a spitting image of what Harwin must have looked like at that age. His grandsire, the Lord Hand Lyonel Strong, had frequently made such a comment to that extent. Derrik was already the tallest of the four boys, and had even begun to encroach upon your own height. In addition to all the other traits he took from his father, he also shared Harwin’s dark curls. But his eyes were your own, as was his generally agreeable temperament.

Upon your oldest son’s admission, you looked at Harwin with surprise and mild concern. “Did you, now?”

“Look, Lady Y/N!” Prince Lucerys bid, running to the table beside you. You hadn’t noticed the sizzling pot upon it until the youngest of the Princess’s sons called your attention to it. But you knew what it contained, even without the young boy having to remove the lid.

“Jace let me pick out the egg!” Prince Lucerys, or Luke, beamed up at you. The youngest prince was over seven years old, though closer to eight. Like his older brother, Lucerys also had dark hair and eyes. But there’d never been any doubt as to who his brother was, nor his mother- his smile mirrored Princess Rhaenyra’s perfectly.

You returned his familiar smile with genuine ease. “I see that. Well, I am certain that your little brother or sister will be very grateful, Your Graces.”

It had become a custom during King Viserys’ reign for all newborn Targaryen children to have a dragon’s egg placed in their cradle. While you were wary of Princes’ safety whilst they underwent whatever necessary to secure the egg before you now, you were relieved at the thought that Princess Rhaenyra would be spared a trip to the dragon pit. Though she was likely to be exhausted, the Princess’s stubbornness had not diminished in the slightest over the years. Both of her older son’s eggs hatched in their cradles, and there was no doubt that she would wish the same for her next child.

While the Princes smiled to each other at your praise, you almost lost your footing when the fourth boy, your youngest son, threw his arms around your waist in an impromptu hug.

The boy looked up at you with wide eyes pleadingly. “We’re sorry we didn’t wake you when we left, Mother.”

Your resolve faded; it was extremely difficult to be cross when such a look was being given to you.

Selwin, the youngest of your boys, was a few months Prince Lucerys’ junior. He had been named after Harwin’s grandsire. Despite this, and in contrast to that of his older brother, not many physical traits of House Strong were made apparent in him. In fact, your youngest son resembled your late brother Derron so greatly, you found it to be unnerving at times. Selwin, though also tall for his age, was more lean and slender than Derrik. His hair matched your own, but he had your husband’s hazel eyes. Like Harwin, it seemed that he had inherited a bit of a fiery temper… which had been discovered fairly quickly after the boy was old enough to spend time in a training yard. But, also like Harwin, Selwin treated his family and those he cared about very sweetly, and never showed them anything but the utmost kindness.

You patted Selwin’s hair soothingly as silent acceptance of his apology. In the gaggle of young babbling boys surrounding you, you had failed to realize your husband had made his way over to join you.

Harwin, dressed in his armor and gold cloak, gave you an apologetic look.

Your family’s recent trip to King’s Landing had become less of a visit, and more of an extended stay. As he usually did, upon your return to the capital, Harwin had resumed his old post as a captain within the City Watch.

But through extenuating circumstances, the Commander of the City Watch had been forced to resign recently, and King Viserys had appointed Harwin in his stead… A perk of being the son of the Hand of the King, and retaining a close friendship with Princess Rhaenyra, you supposed.

It had been an unexpected appointment, but Harwin took it in stride. Though your family would eventually depart King’s Landing, he was determined to serve dutifully until that time came. In fact, just the previous evening until early that morning, he’d been out in the city, on patrol. Despite the tiredness that you could see lingering in his eyes, you knew he’d never let it show in front of the children.

Now that the boys had greeted you, their attention quickly returned back to their games. The boys fled back their miniature knights and dragons, but you remained where you were, watching them fondly as Harwin took another step towards you.

“When I returned this morning, you were still asleep,” he explained quietly. “I thought it might be best to let you rest whilst I escorted them to the dragon pit myself.”

Before Princess Rhaenyra had begun her labors the previous evening, she had asked you and your children to keep her sons company in the princes’ chambers. She wanted Jacaerys and Lucerys to be comfortable, and more importantly, kept distracted. Your sons, who had become close companions to the princlings throughout the course of their lives, fit the bill. You’d never spoken of it with her, but you suspected the fate of her late mother was never too far from her mind. Watching over her sons while Princess Rhaenyra labored was a small price to pay for ensuring that she had some peace of mind.

You gave Harwin a small but appreciative smile. “I am surprised the boys were already awake,” you confessed. “They were talking and playing well into the night.”

All of the boys, but particularly the Princes, were ecstatic with the idea of another addition to the royal family. At some point past midnight, you’d given up on encouraging them to get some rest. They would fall asleep wherever and whenever their bodies told them too, and not a moment sooner, you had realized in defeat. While the boys had engaged in another spirited game of pretend, you had drifted away on one of the sofas.

“Well, the Princes and Derrik were awake,” Harwin recalled, somewhat hesitantly. “I may have had to stir Selwin a bit…”

You gave him a mock look of disapproval at this revelation.

“In my defense,” your husband added hastily, “He was sleeping at a rather odd angle. I feared his neck would ache and pain him this morning, if I continued to let him lie as he was.”

On the contrary, and comically so, your youngest son briefly caught the room’s attention by breaking into an energetic sprint about the room, maneuvering a toy dragon to soar through the air as he did so. Prince Lucerys was just a step behind him, flying a dragon of his own.

“Although, he certainly doesn’t look to be in any discomfort,” Harwin observed bewilderedly, letting out an amused chuckle. “... Come to think of it, I don’t believe there is much at all that is able to truly dampen his spirits.”

You accused teasingly, “He gets that from his father, you know.”

“Funny,” Harwin exhaled, looking down at you with an amused twinkle in his eyes. “I always thought he got it from his mother.”

A comfortable moment of silence passed between you. Only the sound of the children’s laughter and the crackling of the fireplace was able to be heard.

It was an oddly peaceful moment that made it so very easy to forget that there had been any strain at all between you and Harwin as of late.

A knock on the door shattered the moment of calm.

You gave Harwin a forlorn look as you went to answer it. You opened it slowly, revealing one of Princess Rhaenyra’s handmaidens. She reported the information she’d been tasked to relay, excused herself, and you shut the door once more. When you turned around, all five of the room’s other occupants looked at you expectantly.

You announced, “The Princess has had a boy.”

All four boys broke out into cheers.

“A brother?” Lucerys exclaimed with a smile.

Derrik asked, “Is he healthy?”

“Is Mother alright?” Jacaerys added on.

Selwin demanded, “What’s his name?”

You held your hands out in a gesture you hoped would calm all of them. “I was told both the Princess and the young Prince are well. And, as for his name- I do not believe he has one yet.”

“Be patient, lads,” Harwin encouraged the Princes upon seeing their fallen faces. “I am sure your mother and your brother will join us in a few hours.”

“In the meantime, perhaps we might call for some food?” you suggested then, immediately piquing the group’s interest. “After your trek across the city this morning, I dare say the five of you must have worked up quite an appetite.”

The boys agreed, and after a servant had been called to request the meals be brought up, they returned to their games once more.

None of them noticed the uneasy look exchanged between you and Harwin.

When Princess Rhaenyra entered the room some time later, you were pleasantly surprised to see that she was accompanied by her husband. Ser Laenor looked vastly more coherent then when you last saw him. That was much to your relief, considering he was holding the newborn prince in his arms.

Harwin, who had indulged the children by participating in their most recent game, stood tall, and you rose from your seat on the sofa nearby.

Upon noticing their parents' attention had been diverted, Derrick and Selwin also rose to their feet, and quickly bowed to Princess Rhaenyra and Ser Laenor.

You couldn’t help but smile at them, happy that despite the commotion, their manners had not been forgotten. For all the shame you had felt as of late, your two sons had never made you feel anything but pride.

“Mother!” Jacaerys greeted, swiftly rising and rushing over to the door. The other three boys were quickly on his heels. When he reached the table near the door, he removed the lid of the pot sitting atop of it, revealing the dragon egg. Crackles of embers filling the pot in the effort to keep the egg warm filled the room.

“We chose an egg for the baby,” Lucerys explained to his mother.

“Ah,” Princess Rhaenyra mused, flinching as she carefully took a step towards the sofa. “That looks like the perfect one.”

It was obvious by the Princess’s voice that she was still in great pain. You immediately grabbed two nearby cushions, fluffing and putting one upon the seat of the sofa, and the other up against the back of it. Harwin came up from behind the both of you and offered her an arm, which she took gratefully, before cautiously lowering herself down onto the sofa.

Jacaerys lightly swatted his younger brother’s curious hands away from the egg, and your own children leant closer to it as they tried to get a better look.

“Not everyday an egg leaves the dragon pit, Princess,” Harwin informed her. “I thought it best to escort the lads.”

Princess Rhaenyra smiled at him genuinely. “Laenor and I thank you, Commander.”

“Another boy, we heard,” you chimed in. You lowered yourself onto the sofa beside the Princess slowly, so as not to disturb or cause her additional pain. “Congratulations, Your Grace.”

Princess Rhaenyra looked at you with a veiled expression and gave you an appreciative nod. She was clearly tired, and in decent discomfort, as was to be expected. But there was still a sheen layer of sweat upon her face, meaning that either the midwives had not bothered to wipe her brow, or something else had happened more recently that had caused her to strain herself further.

You suspected the latter.

“Might I?” Harwin asked Ser Laenor, his eyes darting downwards towards the babe in the prince consort’s arms.

Princess Rhaenyra turned away from you. To her husband, she said, “Ser Harwin wishes to be introduced to Joffrey.”

Joffrey.

You took care to hide any facial response you might have had to the announcement of the newest prince’s name. A well enough name, you supposed, but it was greatly unlike the names of his older brothers. It didn’t take much thought to surmise who the responsible party must have been. Come to think of it, the name sounded awfully familiar…

Ser Laenor nodded understandingly. “Of course.”

Harwin gently took the newborn prince from the other man’s arms. Despite everything, as Harwin smiled down at Prince Joffrey and began to bounce him lightly, you couldn’t help but feel warmness begin to stir in your heart. Seeing Harwin with a babe in his broad and protective arms reminded you very much of when your own children were that young. It was a sight which you were unsure if you would ever witness again.

“Father?” Lucerys asked Ser Laenor, “Please, may I hold Joffrey?”

“No, no, no,” Ser Laenor said, patiently, but firmly. As the second-born prince made grabbing hands at the babe in Harwin’s arms, Ser Laenor had little choice but to calmly redirect him, and his elder brother, towards the door. “Back to the dragon pit for you two, before they send out a search party.”

The Princes grumbled as they were led out of the room.

You looked at Derrik and Selwin, and asked them both pointedly, “It is about time you both reported to your tutors for the day, don’t you think?”

Your sons also grumbled in protest. Thankfully, your husband caught on to your not so subtle hint at once, and he gently deposited Prince Joffrey back into Princess Rhaenyra’s awaiting arms.

“Come now, lads,” he beckoned Derrik and Selwin, before placing guiding hands on their shoulders. As he led them towards the door, he continued, “Let the Princess rest. We shall see your mother later.”

Harwin’s eyes lingered on you as he closed the door. You gave him a grateful look before he disappeared from view.

Once you were finally alone with the Princess, your focus was able to be solely put on her and the babe.

“How was it?” you dared to ask, though you knew her answer.

Princess Rhaenyra deadpanned. “A perfectly pleasant experience, as it always is.”

It was quiet for a moment, before you both let out a few hearty laughs. But when Princess Rhaenyra abruptly hissed in pain, you sat up straight.

“What is it?” you demanded worriedly, reaching out to support her hold on Prince Joffrey if needed.

The Princess gritted her teeth. “‘Tis nothing,” she attempted to dismiss your concern. “... It seems I have simply overexerted myself.”

“Then let me take him,” you offered readily, glancing down at the newborn prince in her arms. “Or, I can call for the wetnurse, if you’d prefer.”

“No, no,” the Princess insisted. “It is not that.”

“Then what is it?”

Princess Rhaenyra’s eyes never left the babe when she spoke next. Perhaps it was in an effort to keep herself composed. In the years since you had both become mothers, you had noticed it was nearly impossible for the Princess to be in a foul mood whenever she was around her sons. She loved them deeply. They gave her great joy, and, to put it simply, she was completely devoted to each of them.

“The Queen requested that Joffrey be brought to her at once.”

You blinked. “Now?”

“No. After. Laenor and I have just come from her chambers.”

Your brows furrowed. “... Surely you do not mean-”

“But I do.”

“Gods.”

The thought of Princess Rhaenyra, minutes after giving birth, being forced to walk the halls of the Red Keep to present her newborn son before Queen Alicent was appalling. You wanted to believe it was a joke, but you severely doubted that Princess Rhaenyra would ever jest about such a thing. And the hardened look in her eyes confirmed to you that it was anything but.

You leaned closer to her, attempting to get a better look at the babe you had yet to hold. “Why in the Seven Hells would she-”

Prince Joffrey fussed slightly, causing the blanket he was wrapped in to shift. The fabric around his head fell, revealing a crown of dark brown hair.

You fell silent.

Princess Rhaenyra quickly adjusted the blanket, covering the babe’s head once more. But the damage had been done.

“... I suppose the blood on his father’s side runs strong,” you found yourself commenting tactfully, referring to Princess Rhaenys’ brunette locks.

Princess Rhaenyra laughed once, shortly, and looked thankful for having been offered an out. But she said nothing further after that, choosing instead to focus back on the squirming child in her arms.

A very uncomfortable silence took over the room, and the pair of you had no choice but to endure it.

Later that night, you laid in bed, wide awake and restless, staring blankly up towards the ceiling of your chambers as your own thoughts tormented you.

…Another princeling born bearing little resemblance to that of his father… more fuel for the fire… those reprehensible whispers that you now knew would never cease…

The only person in the world with whom you wanted to talk to about your thoughts and feelings was lying right beside you. But he was fast asleep, and despite everything, you did not have the heart to wake him.

If sleep claimed you that night, you do not recall it.

…

Little did you know, Harwin had not slept that night, either.

Like you, his own thoughts only ever came back to two things… the third princeling born with hair and eyes unlike either of his parents… and the cruel rumors swirling about the Red Keep that he knew would only become more twisted because of it.

The following morning, you found both of your sons awake in their chambers.

You entered without announcing yourself, genuinely curious about the scene that awaited.

Selwin was already dressed and sporting his training armor. As he fought an invisible enemy with an invisible weapon of his choice on one side of the room, Harwin was assisting Derrik with securing the last few straps of his breastplate on the other side.

Once Harwin was satisfied with his work, he looked at the armor appraisingly. Your son looked up at him patiently, and somewhat timidly, waiting for his father’s opinion.

“It looks as though you’ll need some bigger armor soon, at the rate you’re growing,” Harwin decided, causing Derrik to smile widely. The pride was very evident in your husband’s voice. As Selwin suddenly ran past them, Harwin fondly rustled his hair in passing, and added, “You too, lad.”

You couldn’t help but beam at the scene.

Harwin had taken to fatherhood like a duck to water. He’d always been fiercely protective of his younger brother and sisters, and when it came to you and your children, it was no different. He’d been hands on with their learning and training since the day they were born, as had you. It hadn’t always been easy, but you had no doubt that there was no other man in the Seven Kingdoms that you would have wanted to raise your boys with.

Though initially you’d both been nervous at the prospect of parenthood, it was later proved that neither of you had any need to worry. Your children loved you as much as you loved them; and in turn, they’d always been decently behaved. In due time, they’d make fine lords in their own right.

“I can’t wait to take on Prince Aemond!” Selwin declared excitedly.

You weren’t sure why he had called out that young Prince specifically, but you made a mental note to speak with him about it later.

Derrik countered with a disapproving frown, “Prince Aemond is several years older than you.” He was right. Prince Aemond was closest in age to Jacaerys and himself, but even so, the Queen’s second son was still older than both of them.

“But we’re about the same size. I’d be more than a fair match!” Selwin argued lightly. He looked up at your husband with pleading eyes, giving him the same look the boy had given you the day before. “Please, Father? Can I spar with the Prince?”

Harwin sighed, and shook his head regretfully. “Sorry lad, but you know the rules. You are to sit and watch- and only watch- until the Princes’ training is done. I’ll work with the both of you after that.”

“But we’ve trained with Jace and Luke before!” Selwin protested.

“Aye, and that is only because the Princess Rhaneyra gave you permission to do so,” Harwin reminded him patiently. “The Queen has not given you such permission. Prince Aegon and Prince Aemond are to have more attentive instruction… as they deserve.”

Selwin did not look too happy, but he relented nonetheless.

“Besides,” Derrik said to his younger brother then, “You know Mother doesn’t like us sparring with the Queen’s sons.”

“She worries too much,” Selwin denounced.

“Come now,” Harwin frowned disapprovingly at the boys. “Your mother has every right to worry about you, as do I.”

Derrik and Selwin looked up at their father, slightly taken aback by the seriousness of his tone.

“What I am about to say is not meant to scare you, but it’s about time that the two of you hear it,” Harwin cautioned them. He let out a small sigh as he visibly contemplated his next words. “... Those around you, especially those here in the Red Keep, may treat the two of you with respect, but that is only because your station commands it. Some of them may even be pleasant enough to you… But that does not mean that they will have your best interests in mind, or that they are able to be trusted.”

Though he had prefaced his warning, your sons still looked alarmed by the gravity of Harwin’s words. You didn’t relish in the fact that they seemed scared, but it was necessary.

The plot against you the night before your wedding; the scheme devised to swindle your birthright out from underneath you… Ten years had passed since both had occurred, and you had no more answers now than you did back then. Over the years, you’d wondered if your brother Derron had been able to uncover any more information into either of those matters, particularly in regards to those who may have been orchestrators…

But if Derron had discovered anything, that knowledge had died with him.

With the exception of the gossip swirling about the Red Keep, neither you nor Harwin had been the target of any further conspiracies since then. But just because an enemy was dormant, that did mean that the threat was at bay. You had children now, and the reality of the situation was that you and Harwin were more vulnerable now than ever before.

Noting the sudden fear on the boys’ faces, Harwin placed one hand on each of their shoulders comfortingly. “But you can always trust that your mother and I will look out for you,” Harwin promised them, smiling softly. “And that is why we worry. That is why we want you to study, so that you might become wise, and be one step ahead of anyone else who may target you. That is why we want you to train, so should the situation ever call for it, you will know how to defend yourself.”

Derrik and Selwin looked up at their father with large eyes as they clung on to his each and every word.

“Do you understand?” he coaxed.

The boys nodded eagerly. “Yes, Father.”

You decided that that was the best time as any to make your appearance known. You stepped further into the room, putting a smile on your face as you did so. “Good morning.”

“Mother!”

You braced yourself, and smartly so, as your boys rushed over to hug you. You laughed and patted their backs lightly; the metal of the small armor was still cold to the touch. “Look at the two of you… You look as though you're ready to go man the Wall!”

“We’d never go that far away, Mother!” Derrik corrected quickly.

“Good,” you affirmed. “I’d miss you both terribly.”

“Run along to the training yard, lads,” Harwin suggested then, his eyes locking with yours. “I’ll be right behind you.”

Derrik and Selwin gave the pair of you knowing smiles before promptly heeding their father’s suggestion.

“Be careful!” you called after them cautiously, though only half-heartedly.

The sounds of the boys’ laughter slowly dissipated the further they ran down the corridor. When it was just the two of you left in the room, you turned to Harwin expectantly.

You weren’t sure what look you anticipated him to have, but it definitely wasn’t the one upon his face at that moment. Sadness lingered in his eyes… or perhaps guilt.

“Might we talk?” he asked, nervousness and uncertainty plain in his voice. It reminded you faintly of when you’d first met him, “Later, I mean. Over supper, perhaps?”

You did have a great deal to talk about. “Of course… That sounds quite lovely, actually. I’d like that very much.”

Relief visibly washed over Harwin’s face at your agreeable response. He nodded firmly once, though it looked like it was more to reassure himself than to confirm anything to you, and went to leave.

You stood still, expecting him to walk by without another word to follow your sons to the training yard, as promised. But instead, Harwin came to a halt beside you. You looked up at him curiously, your guard slightly raised.

Harwin leaned down and placed the lightest of kisses upon your forehead. Any emotional shield you tried to craft crumbled at the simple but extremely meaningful action. Despite his gentleness, you could feel the emotional depth behind it. Your heart lurched at the feeling of his lips upon your skin, and you found yourself feeling remorse when he slowly pulled away.

“I shall see you tonight, My Love.”

And with that, he left.

It was only when the room was quiet and still that you breathed out your response, despite the fact that there was not a single soul around to hear it.

“Until tonight, Dearest.”

A/N: Thank you for reading! Part 2 will be posted this Thursday, 11/1. If I remember, I’ll try to post a link to it here. Either way, I’ll make sure it is added to the masterlist. I hope you all have a wonderful week!🖤

[localfanbaselurker]

First time watching Voltron: Legendary Defender and documenting my thoughts

This is Season 4

S1-2 | S3 | S5 | S6 | S7 | S8 |

———————————————————————

<this one is going to be shorter, as I have only recently finished this season, and the grief is still fresh (lol), so the thoughts are only just starting to simmer. strap your asses in>

Pre-Season 4 Thoughts

-> Keith joining the blades is going to be a huge plot device, I feel

-> PLEASE for the love of CHRIST let that poor little girl find her brother and father. If they are dead dreamworks better be ready to catch these hands

->I’ve heard people claim this is the “last good season”, but i stay strong 💪 and will watch till the end

->wouldn’t the paladin switch not make sense now? Cus shiro is back as the black paladin and it makes no sense for Lance to be red like it originally had? If anything, he should’ve gone back to blue, and Allura to red, because Allura is very accepting/encouraging of shiro’s role as leader. I guess they didn’t wanna do it all over again. But I digress 🤷‍♀️

->im gonna miss my Pookie (🤍❤️🤍)

Post-S4

->do they do this every two seasons?? Have an epic battle where they have a big preparation and say it’ll 100% end the war but it doesn’t and something crazy happens after they win and it sets up the next season??

->FUCK YEAH PIDGE GOT HER BROTHER BACK IM SCREAMING CRYING THROWING UP 💪💪🔥🔥‼️‼️‼️🙏🙏🙏🙇‍♀️🙇‍♀️

->^genuinely cried so hard during this scene. would’ve cried more if I wasn’t recovering from the initial shock.

->^cried during this one too, but it was happy tears. I could actually just do a whole reaction post to this episode alone. (if you want me to js say so in the rbs/replies)

->the callback to s1! “color-coded of course, because what are we? animals?” AHHH! I’m going insane I love these siblings sooooo much

->okay I’ll stop gushing over them now

->^only valid reaction to meeting Allura. Homegirl is beauty incarnate

->I LIED. im not sorry im never shutting up about them. SHE SHOWS HIM AROUND THE CASTLE AND TELLS HIM EVERYTHING AND EVERY DETAIL AND SHES SO EXCITED CUS SHE JUST GOT HER BRO BACK AND IS JUST RAMBLING ABOUT HER NEW HOME AND ALL THE COOL STUFF SHES BEEN DOING AND HES JUST LISTENING AND IS SUPER EXCITED WITH HER AND ITS SOOOO AMAZING AND ADORABLE AND I COULD DIE

->AND THEN HE TELLS HER HOW THEIR DAD WOULD BE SO PROUD IM DYING IM LITERALLY DEAD STOP.

->AND AND AND THEY WERE ALL WORKING TOGETHER W HUNK TO MAKE THE GALRA TRACKER THING AND THEY WERE BEING SO COOL WITH EACH OTHER AND BEING NERDS TOGETHER AND AND AND AJEUWNDUWJEBEURBDGWUDKAODHD

->okay. ive calmed down. i am normal and can be trusted to simply watch a show.

->^Get his ass, Zarkon. I needed his smug ass to be humbled so bad. Only time I will agree w Zarkon fr.

->i do NOT like Lotor. Can you guys tell already??

->THE SCENE WHERE THEY TRIED TO GET MILKSHAKES AND WERE SHOCKED TO FIND OUT THAT YOU NEED TO MILK A COW STOP.✋ 😭. My high-score on the giggle-meter went up by 300%

->bro I SWEAR shiro looks different. there’s just something about him. the hair gets a pass cus how good of a haircut can you give yourself in space, yk? but that nose scar is definitely a different shade #notmyrodrickshiro

->THE VOLTRON SHOW.

->^Just. That entire episode. It’s getting a whole post actually I need to yap about it.

->^her armor is colored in a way which makes it look both pink and red while making it look like a trick of the light in a way to symbolize that she is acting as keith yet while being a paladin herself and that being unknown in the public eye and showing how they have to cover that up, any suspicion being thrown as a trick of the light. Oh vld animators ily 🫶

->on another note tho why do they always draw lance and shiro to have 30 pounds of ass. what.

->loved when those lesbians decided to take down lotor. Queen shit 💋 we stan 🙇‍♀️🙏

->Lotor is so stupid and pathetic and annoyingly smug and sus and admiral-zhao-y and I hate him but he’s SOOO FREAKING HOT and I can’t hate him completely because he’s so attractive but that just makes me wanna hate him more. He’s a walking red flag but the flag is heart-shaped and honestly idk what to do w that.

->^WHAT. stop. honestly that’s the real reason he was banned from the empire my ass would not want that fucking FREAK within a 30 light year radius of me either

-> while s3 was the klance season, s4 is apparently the allurance season, they have a lot of sweet moments. (granted all started by lance but still, you can almost see allura swooning)

->^pookie. what are you doing… pookie.. no. stop. i don’t like where this is going…

->^POOKIE NO. STOP. ✋ STOP. SAY SIKE RN.

->^oh thank fuck for Lotor.

->^^wait what. why Lotor.

->^^^heartbreaking: worst person you know doesn’t something good for once.

->he definitely wants something out of this. I don’t trust him.

These are thoughts I’ve had compiled for some time now. I will continue to post my thoughts on the tag “laura’s first vld”

I finished this season on 06/30/24. I am on S5E3 as of today (07/06/24)

[onebadpunspoilsabunch]

On the topic on season 8 of mlp, I had a problem with the inconsistent way dragons were portrayed in season 8. It really confused me, since there were a lot of conflicting stuff being said by Smolder about how dragons treat their kids.

Oh, yeah! Right on! You're so right.

In the Molt Down Smolder told Spike that during the molt, dragon parents abandon their kids to fend for themselves against giant predators:

Spike: No-no-no-no-no. The last time I grew up, I turned into a giant greedy monster.

Smolder: Greed-induced bigness. That's totally different. The molt is completely normal. Every dragon goes through it. Pretty soon, you'll leave and strike out on your own.

Spike: Why would I do that?

Smolder: Have you been living with ponies your whole life?

Spike: Uh-huh.

Smolder: Oh. Well, in the Dragon Lands, a molter's loved ones kicks them out at the first stone scale.

Spike: What? Why?

Smolder: I think it's biological. We call it the "molt effect". I haven't even told you about the smell.

Spike: So no creature's gonna wanna be around me?

Smolder: Oh, I didn't say that. That molt stench is a magnet for predators. Tatzlwurms, hydras, rocs...

Spike: Dragons are scared of rocks?

Smolder: R-O-C-S. Rocs? Humongous birds of prey that can snack on a molting dragon like candy!

Spike: So Twilight's kicking me out, and the only creatures who don't find me disgusting want to eat me?

But in Father Knows Beast, Smolder tells Spike that dragon parents take time to teach their kids how to fly after they sprout wings:

Spike: Wow! Thank you so much! How did you know I just needed to bend my wings?

Smolder: Honestly, this is Dragon 101. Usually dragon parents teach this stuff.

So Dragon parents kick their kids out and don't care if their children are killed during puberty, but if they somehow survive through puberty then they take their kids back in just to teach them how to fly? Or was Smolder just lying to Spike?

In Father Knows Beast after Spike tells Smolder about Sludge:

Smolder: So, Sludge just lays around while you wait on him claw and tail? Uh, dragons are rude and rebellious, but they aren't lazy lumps who take advantage of their kids.

Spike: Huh. Now I'm really confused.

Then when Sludge reveals he lied about being Spike's dad in order to live in the Castle, Smolder berates him for it:

Sludge: Stop! I'm not your father!

Spike: What?

Sludge: I just said that to get in on this sweet castle life.

Spike: So... you... pretended to be my dad?

Sludge: Now-now-now-now-now, don't look at me like that, kid. I did what any dragon would do.

Smolder: No. You didn't.

Sludge: Hey. I saw an opportunity, and I took it. That's what dragons do.

Smolder: No. It isn't.

But in a previous episode, Smolder tells the Feast of Fire story that won the dragon contest, the story about Scales overthrowing the nice Dragon Lord:

Smolder: [narrating] Scales sat with the Dragon Lord's family and friends and had the biggest, best dinner of gemstones she'd ever eaten! Then, while the dragons were telling stories, Scales thought it would be so easy to seize power from this feeble and sensitive Dragon Lord. She saw her chance... and took it! [flames bursting]

Smolder: [narrating] She claimed the Bloodstone Scepter and took over the Dragon Lands! [as Scales, evil laughter] And forced the Dragon Lord to live out in the cold, just as she used to!

Ocellus: That's a horrible story!

Smolder: Maybe to you. But dragons like hearing about weak, kind creatures getting defeated.

Dragons are known to be opportunists and they enjoy stories of kind creatures getting betrayed and used, but Smolder tried to make a point to Sludge that it was definitely something dragons did not do...

Yeah, that's a bit confusing. 

It reminds me of the way Garble's character was retconned in Sweet and Smoky by Smolder's mere existence. 

This analysis is making me realize that Smolder's character only exists just to retcon/contradict everything we know about dragons. Spike is better off learning about dragons from Ember. I don't hate Smolder as a character, I just hate her role in certain stories, specifically involving Spike and dragons.

Sidenote: Torch and the ancient Dragon Lord are the nicest adult dragons we've seen in the show. Even after Ember disobeyed him, Torch congratulated her, and admitted he was wrong in front of the other dragons.

[zonerobotnik]

"Cassandra, please, this is your home."

Okay, so someone on anon wanted me to analyze why it feels so wrong for Varian to be the one to say this line. I assume they were making a point about how Varian, in season 1, expressed not caring about Corona anymore, but that's actually incorrect. In season 1, Varian was bitter, frustrated and hurt, and that's why he said "I'm not really concerned about Corona".

However, when he made his big speech,

he let people know about the danger that was coming for them, albeit in a vague way, and in season 3,

he helped Rapunzel save Corona from being destroyed, when, if he didn't care, he wouldn't have bothered. Furthermore, by the point that he said this line, he's healed from his pain and Corona is, once again, his home. This is after his father was freed, after he helped save the people from the Fear Rocks and people genuinely thanked him for it and even Feldspar, who was so cold to him before,

greeted him with a smile at the end.

He had been accepted, all was forgiven and, sure, the people did mistreat him before but they had been falsely told that he attacked Rapunzel during a state of emergency, so he can't really blame them for being so cold to him.

As a side-note, the one person he DOES have genuine beef with, he stays at least half a room away from even when they're all cramped into one room.

But, even if he DID still have resentment towards the Kingdom and not consider it his home, let's look at his wording. He didn't say "my", he didn't say "our", he said "This is YOUR home". As in, he was appealing to her based on the fact that the Kingdom, aside from her getting on a Wanted poster for, you know, attacking the castle and Rapunzel and kidnapping him and attacking the Spire and stealing the Mindtrap and, oh, how about the time she left Rapunzel to die in a toxic cave, did NOTHING wrong to her. The Kingdom still loved her, would have accepted her back with open arms if she would have come in as herself and not in a sneaky way

and if she removed her armor. Even if she kept the Moonstone, she didn't have to come in with the armor on, looking ready for a fight, especially now that she can control the rocks. Granted, she still might've had to make amends for all her crimes, but Rapunzel was willing to give her a chance to come back, anyway, judging by how she told the guards to not attack.

If Cassandra had left it to Rapunzel and not attacked the guards,

then Eugene and Varian wouldn't have been called to help stop her with their non-lethal weaponry, which was kept as a last-resort.

(Varian's eagerness to fire it earlier aside. That's his personal beef with her.)

(Not the time, kid, omg) While Varian didn't intend to fire it on her, Cassandra didn't know any different and so having Varian be the one to try to appeal to her after encasing her in amber,

She, understandably, wasn't really in the mood to hear any form of persuasion from him.

Now, if it had been her father to come up and try to appeal to her, beg her to listen to him, told her that he didn't tell her about her mother because it hurt her so badly as a child when her mother abandoned her and that he loved her and would always be there for her, that he quit the Royal Guard because he couldn't bear to fight her,

then she might have listened. But, from Varian, it just seems like his signature manipulation tactic. The amber didn't work, so he was trying to weaken her with sentimentality, as if he didn't just shoot her.

And look how quickly he gave up on trying to reason with her.

He dropped his hand, he straightened up, he didn't even try to appeal to her after that and his only interaction with her for the rest of the battle is silently glaring or shooting her.

Varian was NOT the right one to try to appeal to her at that moment, and that's why it feels so wrong.

[cosmos-night]

Ok. Recently I have found something strange. There is this official Stranger Things Tarot deck. I love finding some hidden meaning in those cards. And I love how many cards represent Will. That said. Recently while watching the deck on youtube I found out that some decks have one card replaced. The Hanged Man card. The original card looked like this:

But now in some decks it looks like this:

Why would they change it? I have heard complains that original deck did not include Eddie, but nowhere did they announced that they added it to deck. Was it intentional? Or are they hinting at something?

Will Byers Castle Byers Classics playlist include many songs that allude to the Rockstar lifestyle, teenage rebellion, addictions, nonconformity, rejection of school education, or even mention Lucifer = Satanism. The story of Will Byers in season 1 is somehow similar to that of Christopher Byers, Eddie Munson was based on Damien Echols. Both inspired by West Memphis Three.

Will Byers is called "Zombie Boy". In one comic he is asked by Owens if the character he draws craves for human brains. Will replies no - just their flesh. Not only is that metal as fuck but it somehow resembles vampiric cravings for blood. Eddie was compared to Vampire Kas.

Both during the death of Will and Eddie plays the same song by Moby. We have this tearful goodbye with Dustin. And just some scenes later we have this touching reunion with Will where they hug. It's like the timelines are fucked up or something...

Will being this anti drug advocate just to some time later in life becoming drug dealer himself would be so hilarious.

Lets not forget about Mike crush on Eddie... Are we to believe that Mike is not fully interested in Will now but would be in few years or on different timeline?

The new hairstyle for Will in season 5 suddenly becomes more curled? Another resemblance to Eddie...

And finally this post by Noah Schnapp hinting at certain death:

Was he hinting at Eddies death?

I know this theory is crazy but at the same time it's crazy fun. Does anyone here has the Tarot deck I've mentioned? What card do you have? The one with Will Byers or the one with Eddie?

[sweetfierceimagines]

Dragon & the Wolf, Aemond Targaryen x fem reader (Part 2) 

Part 1 HERE.

WARNINGS - MAJOR SPOILERS FROM HOUSE OF THE DRAGON.

(I was right sons would be sent to search for allies, too bad Aemond went to Baratheons instead of Starks... can't wait for season 2, season finale was amazing!!!)

Disclaimer : I am basing this fiction on HoTD but I don't intend on being 100% accurate with George R. R. Martin's universe. This is a fiction made for pleasure of reading and imagining scenarios, so please keep that in mind :)

PS: I really want to thank all of you for reacting to part 1, this story has been in my head since I first saw Aemond and LORD I'm so glad I can share it with you ! Please keep telling me what you think, positive and negative, and feel absolutely free to suggest ideas for the potential part 3, although I do chose independently wether I follow them or not. Enjoy !!

Synopsis : After arriving in Winterfell looking for allies, Aemond Targaryen finds himself in a position he doesn't know yet. Y/N, Cregan Stark's impetuous daughter, sparks a new light in him, although he can't quite put words on it. In the same time, war is almost upon Westeros and the Greens need the North to rally, just as much as the Blacks. How will Aemond combine this new curiosity with his duty ?

It had been two days since Aemond first arrived in the North, in search of allies in Cregan Stark's court. Stark family didn't seem completely against his brother's claim, but he could sense that they were reluctant to dismiss their first oath to Rhaenyra. Northmen, after all, were known for their loyalty and they held high values of wisdom and fraternity.

For now, Aemond was lucky enough to be the only one in this court, but Rhaenyra's envoys would soon arrive and he knew it. He had to be quick and completely utterly focused.

But how could he be ?

If he entered a hall with only northmen filling it, it would have been way easier. Instead, Y/N, Cregan's daughter, was at her father's side and was omnipresent in the castle. In two days, Aemond could see how respected she was and how she was handling both little matters and great deals. He didn't have much time to talk to her, even more since their last entrevue, during which he probably went a bit too far by literally asking not only for her opinion but for her allegiance. To him.

Since that day, Y/N had been busying herself as much as she could and rarely let Aemond make a step toward her.

But this day would be a bit different.

As Aemond entered the great hall, lords and ladies already around the table (Y/N too), he could feel tension rising.

(I'M TAKNG A CREATIVE FREEDOM HERE, IMAGINING THAT LUCERYS HAS BEEN KILLED BUT OBVIOUSLY HERE NOT BY AEMOND.)

He felt tense, and was fighting the urge to put his hand on his dagger, just in case. Nevertheless, he walked toward his preferred seat next to Cregan and glanced at Y/N. She had very tough, dark features today, and as she looked back at him, he could feel like she was not pleased with him at all.

-My Lords, my Ladies, thank you again for seating at this table. I would love to remain in Winterfell for weeks, but sadly, the matter we're discussing is more urgent by the second. We shall, if Lord Cregan agrees with me, conclude this before sundown.

Lord Cregan smirked, looking at Aemond like he was some kind of criminal. The young Targaryen was utterly lost, and couldn't quite understand why they seemed to accuse him of something.

-Prince Aemond. Started Lord Cregan, with a heavy voice. -You came in this hall talking about avoiding war and maintaining unity and prosperity in the Seven Kingdoms. You made.. serious accusations toward Princess Rhaenyra's sons and general attitude. Even when Prince Viserys only reassured of his support through his life. - Yes, my Lord, but as I told you.. - I'm not finished.

Everyone was holding their breath, and Aemond did feel.. intimidated.

-Yet, we hear today that young Prince Lucerys Velaryon, your cousin, has been killed in Storm's end, as he was sent only as an envoy by his Mother. - Killed ? - Yes, killed. Murdered. By your side of the family.

Aemond looked at Y/N again and suddenly her deadly look made sense.

-I can assure you, my Lord, I had no idea. This surely is an accident, a misunderstanding... - A misunderstanding ?! The boy didn't fall and break his neck, he was savagely MURDERED and the Greens did it, son ! This is no accident, this is a declaration of war, made by your people, by killing a boy who apparently had no intent to spark any fire at all!

Cregan's voice echoed in the hall and Y/N put her hand on her Father's arm, in an attempt to calm him down.

-We, North People, are loyal, proud and true to what we fight for. We don't kill Mother's children to access power or confirm it. We care for ours and welcome lost foreigners.

He rose, his hands still on the table, and looked at Aemond in an almost apologetic way.

-Prince Aemond. I expect we will receive Rhaenyra's envoy soon. You understand I must hear both sides. Things must be cleared. And as we bent knees to both parties, we consider them invalid. The North will chose regardless.

And he left the hall, dismissing the reunion. Y/N was soon to follow.

Aemond waited until everyone was out of the room to leave. He was upset. Very upset. Someone had taken his perfect plan and burned it to the grown. Killing this kid was a stupid move, although he would have loved to take his eye himself.

He left the castle, moving fast in direction of the woods.

-What do you think you're doing, exactly ?

Y/N's voice made him jump and he turned around to discover her, on her dark, very dark horse, and followed by.. a wolf ? He stared at the magnificent beast, who seemed peaceful yet terribly dangerous. After a few seconds of looking at it, he finally focused.

-My Lady Y/N.. On duty again, I suppose? -No. I wanted to clear my mind from all of these matters. I'm going into the forest. But it's always an occasion to patrol, of course. We never stop watching. - Wise words. I was myself going into the forest.

She shook her head and dismounted her horse, walking toward him. The wolf was following.

-No you're not. This is not any forest. There are animals in there you have no idea of. You're not suited. - I think I'll manage. He said, touching his sword. She laughed, sarcastically. - I'm not doubting you can fight, my Lord Aemond. I doubt you know how. She paused, her eyes looking very tough again. - And I don't intend letting Mother's children die.

Aemond could feel her bitterness and hated that she could lay such eyes on him. He was not a cold blooded murderer. He was keen of justice, he was true, strong, sincere and audacious. Right ?

-Well.. I guess you'll follow me, then ?

And he started walking in direction of the forest. She whispered a "damn this fool" but mounted her horse and followed, giving him her hand for him to mount behind her on the horse.

-We'll be safer.

He agreed and sat behind her, letting her move in the forest. She was right, the place had something different. An aura. It smelled chaos and yet everything was perfectly still. Like anything could happen any second. But not anything, actually. It felt like something unreal could happen. Like darkness itself could jump on him and devour his soul.

-Do you know what you're looking for in the forest, lord Aemond? -Actually yes. My dragon.

She paused and turned around.

-Your dragon ? Have you.. lost it ?

He chuckled and shook his head.

-Lost it, no. I arrived on horse, for Sir Criston is no dragon rider. But I can sense Vhagar is around. Dragons are very independent and yet, when they bond, they remain terribly loyal. I've been away for a couple of days, she's not used to it. I expect she's either coming or already there. - Ok.. I guess we'll spot it easily, then.

She sighed, a bit preoccupied, and looked at her wolf.

-Stay close, Shadow. You and I are flammable.

(Time ellipse)

It had been at least an hour since they got into the forest, remaining mostly silent. Suddenly, the mood shifted a bit : wood creaked and wind seemed to blow inward.. The horse stopped and started to get nervous, and Shadow growled. Aemond got down and moved deeper in the forest. This time, Y/N didn't follow.

Silence fell. Lasted. Y/N got back feet on the ground, ready to go get the Prince, when a huge roar echoes in the forest and instinctively, Y/N grabbed her sword, Shadow jumping in front of her. Second after second, a huge beast appeared, smashing trees around it, snow everywhere. Y/N had never seen a dragon before and she had to admit that although this beast was incredibly beautiful and mighty, she was utterly scared. On top of it, Aemond was seated, looking down at her.

-I told you she would be there ! He yelled.

Y/N didn't move, too stunned to react. She could only grab Shadow by the neck, preventing it from doing anything stupid.

-Come, my Lady ! She won't hurt you unless I tell her to. -I shall not, my Lord. Thank you very much but as Targaryens are closer to Gods, Starks are very much humans. And humans belong on the ground.

He laughed. it was the first time she heard him laugh, and suddenly he took off and the beast started to fly higher and higher. Y/N had tears in her eyes, a mix between pure amazement and a terrifying nervousness.

Y/N had been camping in a safe place of the woods, in a clearing with opened sky. Shadow was impossible to calm down, apparently he imagined he could fight a dragon.

Even though Y/N saw this dragon only once, she remained rather calm when the huge beast made land, not too far from them. Actually, the dragon was so close that she could feel its breath. Aemond got down and came by the fire. Shadow was growling and showing its teeth, sign that the wolf didn't appreciate dragons and dragon riders. Y/N and said with irony :

-He won't hurt you unless I tell him to.

He smiled a bit and sat in front of her, remaining silent for a few seconds before finally talking, in a very calm tone.

-Y/N. I know what it looked like. She raised an eyebrow. -I know you all think Lucerys' death was part of .. a general plan from us. It's not. She shook her head again. -My Lord, I've never been to Kings Landing and yet even I know how you and Velaryon children hated each other. And for Greens to secure power, you need not only to reduce Rhaenyra and Daemon to silence but also to wipe out their descent.

He sighed and got closer to her.

-I promise. We didn't mean that. Or at least I was not part of it. You want the truth? I dream since I'm a child to get Lucerys and make him take out his own eye out.

She raised her head to look at him, astonished by the cruelty of the confession.

-In payment.

She was holding her breath, both disgusted by this affirmation, and believing he was telling the truth and therefore, didn't intend a full kill.

-But murdering him was not part of my plan. And I know for sure that my Mother strongly desires mercy for Rhaenyra and her children. I promise.

She remained silent and put her hands on her face, thinking. After a while, she looked at him again, sad, this time.

-I believe you. But it matters not. We must wait for the Blacks to come and state their will. You had your time, they deserve theirs. My Father is a very proud man, Aemond. (she didn't notice she didn't name him Lord or Prince for once) He is true, he is good. He will wait and decide knowingly. There is nothing I can do..

She smiled softly.

-But we heard you. You were good, you know. As an envoy.

He smiled, sincerely, and nodded his head a bit.

-My Mother told me I was the one to do this. She was right. And I'm glad I've been sent here.

He put his hand on hers, making her shiver.

-I'm glad I met you.

It was over. Starks had received word that Rhaenyra's envoy, her son Jacaerys, would soon arrive on dragon back. Cregan had decided the recent death of Lucerys was reason enough for Aemond to leave. He was preparing his horse with Sir Criston, Vhagar had been leaving already.

The court was gathered in the courtyard, respectful enough to bid them farewell correctly. Y/N was feeling odd, like she was losing something. When Aemond got on his horse, her heart tightened. She cleared her throat and took the gift intended to Aegon the Second from Maester's hands to quickly get to Aemond. Cregan looked, not too sure of what was happening.

-My Lord Aemond.. it's a gift. For your Brother the King. It's tradition when a coronation happens. Although you know a gift will also be given to Rhaenyra.

He took it and smiled at her.

-Thank you, my Lady. I hope I will see you again. Soon. Very soon.

She nodded and took a few steps back. When they departed, Aemond turned around and smiled again.

Two weeks. Two weeks since both Aemond and Jacaerys left the castle. Cregan Stark's mind was made. His Lords and Ladies agreed with him. It was done. The North would rally Rhaenyra's side.

Y/N's heart had not stop hurting. She felt upset, preoccupied, and hated that she couldn't find peace. Deep inside, she knew her Father's decision was the right one. She knew King Viserys only meant for Rhaenyra to be his successor. She knew Aegon was a farce, a puppet in Hightower's hands. But this meant she was to never see this Targaryen side of the family again. Or at least not in a pleasant way.

Sun just appeared in the morning sky and she was already heading out of the castle.

-My Lady ! My Lady Y/N !

She turned around to see the Maester running toward her.

-My Lady, a message from King's Landing. It's urgent, you must take it to your Father.

She nodded and rushed inside the castle, straight into her Father's apartments. She gave him the message and after reading it, Cregan looked solemnly at his daughter.

-Well.. I think it's time for you to see a bit more of our world.

She took the message, and as she was reading it, her inner smile grew.

"Lords and Ladies of the Seven Kingdoms. You are asked to send envoys to Kings Landing. They will act as representatives of your Houses, and receive full protection from the War and its consequences, regardless of the side you've chosen. Such representatives will be diplomats and will be able to directly address to King Aegon the Second and his court. This is an attempt, as war is upon us, to keep a negotiating canal opened. We thank you."

The message was signed by Otto Hightower's hand. Y/N looked back at her Father.

-Me ? -Yes, you. She smiled, honored that her Father granted her with such honor. -But you must promise me something, child. If it ever gets too risky, leave at once. She nodded. -And don't marry that boy too soon.

END OF PART 2.

Tag list (comment to be added) : @xcharlottemikaelsonx @lawlerek @whitejuliana1204 @devy1233 @alice1290

[subwaysurf45]

The Time of the Prey (Epilogue)

Summary: The younger sister of the most talked about princess in the kingdoms really can’t do much except smile and nod. When Natasha, your sister, finally goes to moves all of you to Shieldshire to marry her beloved Prince Steve you are left with your art, all alone. But one Knight took it upon himself to keep you company, and that company was all you needed to get through wedding season. Will that company last or will it be ripped away from the both of you? A war is starting and it seems targets are being made.

Pairing: Knight!Bucky x Princess!Reader

Words: 1k

Warnings: Fluffy fluff, wrapping everything up, Its over!!! :(

A/N: thank you so much for the constant love and support on this fic. I want to thank the people who waited an entire summer for this series, I hope it was worth the wait! I had so much writing for this AU and hope you enjoyed reading! I will be writing one shots and will be posting about sending requestions if you haven’t seen it already!!!

Series Masterlist      II      Series Playlist

SIX MONTHS LATER

In the depth of the winter you stood in front of you mirror, slightly tugging at your jacket to get it to sit just right. Your stomach was twisting and turning all morning, Bucky noticed how you couldn’t sit still during breakfast. It didn’t help that his feet gently brushed along your leg as you ate, his hand also holding yours whenever he didn’t need to cut his food. 

Beside you was a trunk, the same one you brought when you first arrived at Shieldshire. It was still scraped and dented around the edges but when you looked at those marks you remembered the journey, the love you created, and the moments you’ll remember forever; for better or for worse. 

Most handmaids would carry the trunk for you but you chose against that, handmaids weren’t as used in your castle than others you realized. You walked quickly around the small castle, making your way to the front gates and nodding to the guards as you passed by. Escorts weren’t your thing anymore unless it was Bucky walking beside you, and he was training young kids this morning. 

The small building off to the side of the castle had people of all ages walking in it, from the extremely poor to the Lords who lived within the castle. They all had their trunks clutched tightly in the cold weather, there was nothing warm about the Southlands. 

“Good morning,” you smiled as you walked in, seeing everyone setting up their stations. 

Everyone responded in their own manner, some looked up from their spots and others stayed quiet. You moved to the front of the room and faced everyone, setting down your trunk and opening it. 

Your easel and paint were quickly set up, people were blowing cold air on their complimentary warm lemon waters. You scanned the room and waited until everyone looked ready to begin, when most of them were ready you began to teach. 

“Today we are going to cover shadows,” your canvas faced the group of around fifteen, and using an inked quill you began to draw a circle, “we are going to draw our circle like so,” you faced the group and saw them all begin, “then we are going to choose where our light source is coming from, can someone tell me an example of a light source?” 

“The sun!” someone called from the back. 

“Wonderful,” you nodded with a smile, “another example is a candle, can you remember how the corner of the page closest to the candle or lantern is always the easit part to see?” people’s eyes lit up with understanding. In the beginning, it was hard to remember people of all different walks of life who joined your lessons to learn how to draw and paint. 

You had decided to start with quil and ink first before getting into paints because they were much harder for beginners to use, it also costed more to buy paint now because of the kingdoms coming back from the war. The Free Lands had faught against the Red River and combined the two kingdoms, now producing most of the realm's dye and fabrics. Lands disputes had fallen, the realm was healing but it came with a price. 

Not too long later the lesson was complete, people took their boards off of their easels and left the little space, making their way back to the castle or into the common wealth lands. People from Flea Bottom were slow to move back, you were in talks with your mother about cleaner water for drinking and bathing but it was a long and tiring process. 

Accepting you were an heir took a shorter time than expected, you were slowly falling in love with politics but those thoughts scared you. There was nothing you hated more than feeling as though no matter when you did you let some party down, not always helping everyone. Your mother helped you get through that easily, telling you stories of how she believe her ideas were for the greater good but ended up failing, blowing up right in her face. It didn’t ease your mind in the slightest but it was nice to know someone as perfect as your mother made mistakes. 

As you walked along the white fluff to head back to the castle, your feet trudged through the snow. The Northern Lands would go through a freezing over period which caused snow to grow to double the height of their houses, the Southlands got some but it only reached your ankle. 

You had talking a great a deal about staying put in the kingdom, part of you still wanted to visit the Free Lands just to see how their democracy was going. From word of mouth you heard it was smooth, no issues and laws were created faster. Part of you kept that in the back of your mind as you thought about your families line of succession - or lack thereof. 

You were dead set on not having kids, nothing was going to change that. No amount of royal duty could make you squeeze a child out of you, there was simply no world that would happen. Bucky was more than content with that, childbirth was a scary thing, if a mother had five children only two would make it to adulthood. You would always shiver at the numbers when it came to mother mortality, you were never going to take that risk. 

So, who would come after you? 

Democracy was coming and there was no way to stop it. 

“I honestly think you walking and thinking is the scariest thing in the world,” all of a sudden Bucky appeared in front of you, blocking you from walking into a wall, your nose almost smacking into the grey cinder blocks. “What is troubling you, my sweet?” 

You just smiled and shook your head, “Just royal stuff, succession and kingdoms and responsibility and-”

“You’re doing it again,” he commented, taking your hand in his and walking you to your shared room. You didn’t have to ask, he knew you needed a break. “You always do this,” as Bucky spoke to took a moment to admire him and much you missed seeing him in his royal clothes and not the ratty tunics, “you think and think and think, it never ends, you have to give that smart brain of your a day off- at least an hour!” Bucky laughed with you, squeezing your hand and leaning into you. 

“How was the training?” your hand pressed against your forehead, feeling how cold it was. 

“Cold,” Bucky laughed, “those boys don’t know anything about fighting in the snow, how much more they have to move and step, they’ll learn someday,” he shook his head, “do you want to get some soup and bread before we go to our room?” You nodded and Bucky found a handmaid, “would you mind grabbing those soup-bread-bowl-things?” the handmaid laughed, Bucky did as well, “do you know what I’m referring to?” 

“Of course,” she smiled and walked away, heading towards the kitchens. 

Once you reached your bedroom you took off the gloves and jacket you were wearing, also helping Bucky out of the beige padded tunic he wore when teaching the kids how to fight. You had asked again about the training, especially one kid Bucky had a liking towards. “I don’t think you understand how great he will be once he reaches my age, the kid is ten and six and can already flip as he fights,” Bucky laughed as he sat on the edge of the bed, “there’s a reason the young ones call him Hercules.” 

You laughed as well, going to the door and grabbing the two bowls which were actuall bread, “I still am fascinated by these things, truely, I must meet whoever made them,” you passed one to Bucky, flicking off the crumbs that immediately flaked onto his pants. 

You both ate side by side, brushing against eachother’s shoulders as you leaned in. for the majority of the time you ate in silence but it was comfortable, just enjoying one another company. 

After a while you felt the hair on the back on your neck stand up, freezing where you were and looked over to Bucky who was already staring at you, lost in thought. You giggled to try and break the tension, “what?” you leaned into him. 

“For the life of me I can’t understand,” he whispered, “here you sit: an heir to a massive kingdom and allies with another strong contender and you do nothing to get the revenge of the men that hurt you,” he sighed and bit into his bread. 

You looked forward with a sigh, “I honestly don’t know,” was all you could offer on the surface but the answer was right there, “it always comes back to my father,” you looked over at Bucky who grew remorseful, probably kicking himself for making you think about your father, “he was always violent and agressive and harsh,” your spoon collected the last bit of broth that hadn’t seeped into the bread, “I want to be the opposite of him, which meant I must stay composed, I can’t be violent - I have to use my brain, something he never did.” 

Bucky hummed, “that does make sense,” he spoke with a full mouth but used the back of his hand to cover as he spoke, “you’re always so detailed like that, I love it.” 

You laughed, “one of us needs to hold eachother back from doing the irrational,” you began to bite into your bread. Bucky just looked at you and shook his head, smiling to himself. “Stop doing that,” you laughed and placed your bread down, wrapping your arms around him and pushing him to fall back, making him scramble to put his bread bowl down as well. 

“What are you doing?” he laughed as you rolled on top of him, “this is my thing!” Your arms stayed wrapped around his neck and you laid your head on his chest, feeling him slowly wrap his arms around you. “How are your scars?” the question seemed to come out of no where but you could tell he was feeling them through the dress. 

They were completely healed and at no risk for infection but the skin still sat with a bump, causing jagged lines to be left for the rest of your life. In the beginning you thought Bucky would try to avoid them as much as possible but he didn’t, most of the time tracing them or sneaking a few kisses in when you slept with your back to him. 

“All good,” you whispered and closed your eyes, “that feels nice,” you sighed as he gently slid his fingertips against your back, he continued to do so. Your body began to feel heavier and sleep crept up on you, pulling you deeper and deeper. 

“You are one of the good ones on this planet,” you heard from above you right before sleep fully washed over.

Thanks for all the love and reading, if you enjoyed don’t be afraid to reblog!

- Rambo <3

Taglist: tag list: @maybeimart @imtherain @jackiehollanderr @redneckstrash @tylard-blog1 @readingbooksanddrinkingtea-blog @linzc-reader @honeybunchesofbucky @sky0405 @striving4averagegirl @seybox @yaszx @happyt0exist @munsonette @searchf0rtheskyline @aya-fay @emi11ie @prettywhenicry420 @theluvcafe @whatsmylaneagain @sparkletash @learning-howto-be-myselfx3 @daydreaminglightly​ @desert-fern​ @wdyss​ @crazy4seb-chris​ @death-sonata​ @namelesssav

[bts-0t-7]

Breaking Bonds | PJM | Chapter 2

Pair: Fae Jimin x Nymph reader 

Summary: Stripped from your own birthright, you suffer at the hands of your people. But after all, you couldn’t blame them. Having enough, you left in the middle of the snowy days but things didn’t go as you planned. Jimin, pulled by an unspeakable force, ventures out into the blizzard to find a body face-first on the ground. Your love and connection is forbidden - looked down upon. But the both of you are willing to try. However, where there are dreams there are prices to pay. How will the both of you push through? Can the both of you do it?

Genre: Strangers to lovers, fantasy au, Jimin is the CROWN PRINCE (I mean-), angst, kidnapping, smut

A/N: AHEM - 👀 that's all the warning I'll give HAHA

WC: 3774

Heartbroken was truly not the right word to use while describing Jimin’s current state. 

He went around his duties like a ghost, refusing to sleep in any other place than your room even if it was freezing cold to him, and cried himself to sleep almost every other night. 

Hurt. 

He was hurt. 

Jimin could understand why you chose to leave. After all, he read your note. He knew he understood your intentions but he tried. He had hoped that you wouldn’t. His mother was barely in the picture, preferring her group of ladies rather than staying in his quarters and having some bonding. She was almost a non-existent figure in his childhood life. It was only when he started taking up his duties during adolescence, did she appeared more. 

His father and grandfather were always too busy fighting on the battlefield and when his father finally came home, Jimin was disregarded like an old rag doll. With the King in perfect condition, the young and naive Crown Prince was no longer being held at the throat for possibly taking over the throne. 

The only parent figures he had were the maids and servants in the castle. When he was young, they would sneak some snacks for him before bedtime and they would eat together as they watched the night sky. More times than not, stories would be told then. During his adolescence, some of the councillors would give him extra help for his homework. They would teach him the laws and ways of the kingdom not by books, but by actions. 

During seasonal festivals, the servants would always pair up with an undercover guard to bring him out of the castle - even if it is just for a few hours - and let him explore what would be his when he ascends. 

Jimin is forever grateful to those who took care of him growing up, some of them barely eighteen years old. But he had always craved a different sort of intimacy. Nobody could replace the absence of his parents but as Jimin grew older, he had wished that he would find the one for him so that he could shower them with as much love and care as the servants had for him. 

But as he came of age and after so many years of mindless finding, Jimin had started to give up until he found you, lying face first in the snow. He was drawn by an unspeakable force to venture into the depths of the forest that day. He was in the middle of his afternoon duties when he looked out into the vast snow and felt it. 

Jimin had initially wanted to ignore it but it got stronger the more time passed. So he went to the stables and settled his horse, trotting the both of them in an unknown mark. He observed where he was going, of course - southeast, with little turns and ups and downs. 

Until he saw your body on the ground. 

His heart stopped. 

That day, he figured out a new type of fear - One that was bone-chilling. 

He ran back to the castle and summoned as many well-known physicians as he could. And while you were bedridden, he carefully nursed you back to health, feeding you morsels of the forest that were saved in the kitchen. He picked out the rarest fruits and collected enchanted waters from the streams up ahead to bathe you. 

The both of you had grown a lot closer in those times, conversations revealing a shared desire for peace and unity between both your kingdoms. He kept you farthest away from his parents, and while nobody in the kingdom was oblivious to you being protected in the walls of the castle, they were of your connection. 

His people knew that he always had a soft spot for nymphs - just like he has for many other things. But fearing for your life, Jimin dared not share the connection he learned - a sacred bond of both the heart and the soul. He knew that you could feel it as well, many times preferring to lay on him rather than beside him. 

But history had to dictate that nymphs and faes were eternal enemies, their alliance forbidden. 

And the unexplainable feeling that coursed through his body when you left him - left him feeling completely… shattered. 

You weren’t certain which direction you were going.

You were never good with directions.  

Even worse without a compass, you walked on foot until it turned dark. 

You knew that you had to find shelter soon or the possibility of you being eaten in the middle of the night by some rouge animal would probably be higher than whatever tree you were resting on. Turning back, you decided that the cave behind the waterfall you had found was probably the best bet. 

A loud howl spurred you on, warning you of the troubles in the woods. As carefully as you could, you ran back in the direction of the waterfall. But you were running for more than fifteen minutes and you were sure that the waterfall was not more than a seven-minute walk away. You could still hear the sounds of the rushing water before you started but now, you couldn’t hear a thing. 

Stopping in your tracks, you panted hard, hands on your knees as you fought to catch your breath. In the snowy weather of the continent, there resides the deathly ghost leopards. They hunt when the sun sets, white fur easily blending into the snow of the surroundings. They are so silent that even your pointed ears cannot hear a thing. The only time you know that you are staring at it is when you look into their green eyes, glowing in the dark. 

When you were younger, your parents would always use the story of ghost leopards eating you up if you ventured into their territory to ensure you stayed in during the night. Now you truly wished you had just stayed at the waterfall when you had first found it. Because staring into the glowing eyes was not how you wanted your life to end. 

Your head bowed down as you cowered. Ghost leopards know no bounds on magic. 

They are known as the Balancers. These specific animals and plants are almost human-like, where they are not mystical beings nor are they completely mortal. They balance out the good and evil. But they too, have their seasons. Within the caps of the snowy mountains resides one of these.

Ghost leopards hail from the same element you came from but you were from two different sides of the coin. And while some nymphs have snow leopards as their spiritual partners, the both of you did not get along. 

“I’m sorry, I’ll just… leave.” You slowly backed away, keeping your attention trained on the ground. “Please just don’t eat me.”

But life wasn’t on your side it seems. 

The leopard in front of you leapt, precisely knocking you down as a shriek exploded out of you. You fought for your life as gigantic teeth clamped down on your arm and large paws scratched at your back. You started to fade out when the clashing of swords and hushed voices was the last thing you heard.

Jimin looked out of the window in his office. He felt a sense of gut-wrenching ache to go into the depths of the forest, much similar to the feeling the day he found you. But he knew you wanted nothing to do with him and therefore, brushed it off as his overprotective and clingy feelings. 

Softly sighing, he ran his hand through his hair and closed the curtains, turning to the bed. Your scent was slowly wafting out of the room and even your pillow, being the most heavily scented item, was starting to fade. Still, Jimin snuggled into the pillow, bringing it to his nose and letting your scent calm him down. 

It wasn’t until late in the night that the night shift guards returned, causing a much louder ruckus downstairs. It was shouting and clashing that Jimin woke up to. Squinting at the grandfather clock, Jimin registered that he had only slept no more than four hours. Groaning, he flipped himself onto his stomach and tugged the quilt higher. 

But it was the prolonged yellings that finally dragged him out of bed. He had half a piece of mind to go down and reprimand them for making so much noise, so late in the night. Jimin had put together that they were probably celebrating a big catch that the night shift must have brought back from their rounds. 

Just as he was tugging on his tunic, a guard, hands bloodied and face pale barged in. Jimin was immediately awake. Perhaps he thought wrong? 

Instinctively, he grabbed his sword that he had left leaning against the wall when the guard went, “Highness, there is no need. No monster is in sight.” Jimin was confused. If there was no killing needed, why are his hands full of blood?

“You are needed at the infirmary, Your Highness.”

Jimin didn’t put down his sword and walked out of the room. The guard followed him closely behind, footsteps rushed as the both of them headed down. Jimin should have been more alert, should have better sniffed around at the man to gain some inkling of what is going on because he was not ready to have another sight of you on the hospital bed. You looked like you were bleeding from every inch of your body, blood covering your arms and hair. 

His physicians were trying their best to staunch the bleeding but Jimin could just hear it. It wouldn’t stop. The wounds were to deep. 

“Who-” Oh, he was beyond furious. He would kill anybody who hurts you and his primal urges are urging him on a hunt right now. 

“It was a ghost leopard, Your Highness.” The same guard who led him over said. “We heard screams and ran over but the leopard already had its fangs down.”

Jimin loves animals but he would truly like the skin that leopard dry. 

Taking deep breaths, Jimin pushed a few physicians aside, commanding his powers forward. Small wisps of flames licked up your arms as they went in and out of you, before sealing your wounds. Your body was tense and twitching throughout the time. Jimin could only imagine what it is like for you. He was fire and you were ice. The polar opposites. 

As Jimin stepped back, he let the physicians fret over you once again. He never thought that he would have to see you lifeless on the bed, again. The first time had broken his heart so much he refused to move from his spot, worried that you would wake up the moment he leaves and there would be nobody beside you. The maids had finally convinced him to take care if himself when his father called him over for a council meeting at the main palace. He made it back just in time before you woke up. If he had been any later, you would have probably screamed bloody murder by then or jumped out the window, forever never making an appearance. 

But the worst of it was always seeing you on the bed, lying there, unmoving. And now that he has experienced your bubbly nature, it felt even more heartbreaking. His brows pinched as if they couldn’t stand the silence between the both of you. You were always saying something, always teasing him - and although he gets irritated, he would never dare say he didn’t like it one bit. 

Jimin felt like the whole tortuous process had started once again, waiting for any sign of response from you. Luckily, this time, it took you no more than two days before surfacing. Jimin was dead asleep when you had awoken and he had no idea until you had shaken him awake. 

“Jimin… Jimin.”

His brows furrowed. Why do people never let him sleep?

“Jimin.” He felt soft hands caress down his cheeks and he puffed them, turning to snuggle deeper into the pillow. Light laughter broke him out of his sleep-deprived state. It was a laughter he hadn’t heard in a while and your rings felt like absolutely harmony on his ears. 

His eyes shot open only to stare back at your frosty blue ones. Unbelieving, he pinched himself, wincing at the pain that shot up his arm. “Ouch…”

Your hand landed on his biceps with a smack. “Why would you pinch yourself, dummy?”

“I’m truly not dreaming?” He saw your brows furrow. “Truly?”

Your smile turned sad as the light left your eyes. “I’m sorry.” You got up into a sitting potion, hands dropping into your lap as you wrung the quilt between them. 

Jimin didn’t dare to probe the thin string between the both of you, allowing you space to speak. 

“I’m sorry. I know - It’s just that you deserve better and our bond will always be looked down on. I wanted to give you a better life rather than having to constantly hide and step on eggshells around the council and your family. Your kingdom is already unhappy as it is, I did not want to create more problems.” You hang your head, bearing your neck to him. But this is not Jimin. 

Jimin does not want you to feel like it is a necessity to apologise to him. He understood your train of thought and Jimin didn’t want you to be the one making all the decisions for him. 

“I just - I thought that it would have been better for you if I left and -”

Jimin tilted your head upwards, staring deep into your eyes. “What is good for me is a decision I choose to make for myself. And I choose you. For better or for worse, through thick and thin, I choose you. I do not need you, but I want you.”

Jimin searched your eyes for any form of discomfort before asking, “Do you want this?”

Silence followed the both of you and Jimin felt his airway close up. 

It couldn’t have been more than a few seconds but it easily felt like minutes. But Jimin kept silent - gave you space to think, to feel. Until your eyes cleared up and your voice was solid when you answered, “Yes. I want this.” 

Jimin’s breath got knocked out of him for the umpteenth time in the past few days. 

“Then it is this you will get.” Jimin brought your hands together, linking your pinkies as a promise. “We will be part no longer. I will not hide you or our relationship. I am yours.”

You nodded back at him. “I am yours.”

Jimin brought his palm to your cheek and moved closer. At a hair’s breadth away, Jimin stopped. “Are you sure?” He didn’t want to put you through anything you didn’t want but he has truly waited a long time for this. 

It was within a moment that he felt your lips on his. 

It was a tangle of limbs from then on. Nobody knew where it started and where it stopped. 

The bedroom door closed and only a small opening was left on the windows to allow some form of ventilation. Silent as it was, the servants and whatever guards who were not on duty were all sleeping.

You bit your fisted palm as you threw your head back and writhed around. But it was difficult when his very touch ignited a type of fire within you, dragging pleasure through your skin. 

“Mine. You’re all mine.” Jimin whispers into the night. Your hips instinctively pushed up, grinding against his length. 

“Please, please.” You begged, feeling your senses beginning to blur. You needed him close.

Jimin let you go, unbinding his hands from yours and sat up, stripping himself of his clothes. Without any form of restrictions, you reached for him, hands gliding down his toned body. You have never seen more than what was above and it was safe to say, you were thoroughly satisfied just from staring. 

Jimin remained upright, allowing you to explore his body as he did with yours. Your taste still lingered on the edges of his lips as he licked it, savouring the remains. Your hands glided over his body - fingers, palms, and lips. He watched as you traced every outline with that shiny look in your eyes. 

You took extra notice of the spots that he was most sensitive to - constantly arching his back, neck exposed. 

Jimin felt himself weaken in pleasure as you proceeded to lie over his body and worship his aching length. At this point, half of his rational brain was denying that he had never done this before but the other half of him was passed out from the pleasure. Just the moment your mouth engulfed his length, he was done for. 

“Oh, Jimin… God -” Your moans reverberated around, causing him to grip the sheets to find some slip of control. You abandoned his length and moved down to his heavy balls, hand remaining to jerk him off. He was so wet already, pulsating in your hand. 

“Ah - Oh, Y/N, it feels so good, ah.” Jimin moaned, face scrunching up from the force of keeping himself intact. “Ah, Y/N…”

It wasn’t long since you had gone down on him but Jimin was already grasping at the sheets, pulling them off the edges as he fought for his breath. He never knew this type of hunger from you but hell - who was he to complain? 

“Y/N - Ah - Slow down, please.” Jimin’s voice was hoarse, the pace of breathing ruined. His eyes were glassy as they looked down at you, completely blown out. Your hunger was well taken but Jimin felt oversensitive. 

But the wicked gleam in your eyes that Jimin had learned to learn was not a good thing, made him gulp. His begs have the opposite effect on you and instead of giving him a break as you took him back into your mouth. You took him down as far as you could go, hitting the back of your throat as his groomed hair tickled your nose. 

“Ah - No, I -” He throbbed in your mouth. God, he was big and you could feel him pulsating. 

Jimin whimpered and threw his hand over his mouth, trying to muffle the next loud moan that threatened to escape him. He struggled to leave your wet warmth but your sharp nails had forced his hips back down onto the bed and worked him into overdrive. Throwing his head backwards onto the pillows, Jimin squeezed his eyes shut as pleasure coursed through him. He was already lying down but he felt his knees tremble and buckle, growing tense and lax at the same time in your hold. 

As he whimpers his pleas for a break as you push him into oversensitivity, you slip off his length and kiss at the hard planes of his abdomen. Its strong structure rippled under your lips as you watched Jimin fight for air.

“God, I’ll have you for breakfast every day.” You moaned, drawing patterns with your tongue over his lower abs, occasionally dipping lower. You were not too far behind your mate. Panting and gasping for air, you look up at him with love-drunk eyes. 

Jimin swallowed heavily of whatever saliva there was left in his system - which was essentially, close to none - and met your gaze. Your blown-out eyes and messy hair - everything about you, captured his attention. 

God, you looked so pretty with his cum staining the sides of your lips. 

Jimin grabs your face and pulls you up onto the bed, meeting your lips halfway with a kiss. He thought he couldn’t get any happier but oh, how wrong was he. As your tongues tangled, playing a game of push and pull, he feasted on his lingering taste on your lips. 

Carefully, he positioned you on the bed, ensuring that your arm would not be in a compromised position. And a few seconds later, the remaining of your clothes had found itself on the floor, in a pile, beside Jimin’s own set. As he kissed you passionately, his length breached your walls as he rocked his hips into you in a desperate rhythm. 

If it wasn’t that his lodgings were the farthest from the main palace, the servants and guards would have heard the both of you by now. But even so, Jimin’s kisses kept you silent for most of the time and you dared not complain. 

As the both of you lay in bed, hands playfully caressing each other, you bathed in the presence of peace. And beneath the stream of moonlight that shone into the room, Jimin curled a tendril of your frosty hair, murmuring, “Y/N, I cannot change the past but I can change the future. For us, for our future, I promise you that I will try.” He brought his lips to your head. “We will rewrite the history of our kind. Love, not hatred, that connects us once again.”

Tears filled your eyes as you snuggled deeper into his hold, “I truly hope to believe that, Jimin.”

“We will try. We will look forward, not back, and try.” For the night, Jimin brought his arms around you as if to protect you from any other sources. “What’s mine is yours, and so your burdens are no longer just yours to bear. We have each other now.”

But peace, was a distant dream - and love, came with a heavy price. The court had already long figured out the connection between you and Jimin. Outraged by the fact that their Prince would choose a bond that was forbidden - an abomination in the eyes of history. The council feared the alliance of fae and nymph, for they were the ones who urged the breaking in the first place. And now, three generations later, they see it as a threat to their power.