#Pride and prejudice au

[verkomy]

your hands are cold

you can get a print here: inprnt!  

[ato-dato]

Someone on twitter requested azi as elisabeth. Here she is. Aziraphale Bennet.

[vivalarevolution]

𝓥𝓲𝓼𝓬𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓽'𝓼 𝓛𝓸𝓿𝓮

Viscount Aemond Targaryen x Curvy Stark Reader

Summary: She had never seen Viscount Targaryen , nor she ever exchanged a word with him. But that changed one evening, after which the man unexpectedly began to appear everywhere she looked , not letting her mind forget him. Even for a moment.

A/N: I'll admit I had a lot of fun creating the whole idea, mainly because a lot of inspiration was taken from the Bridgertons as well as from Pride and Prejudice, but I think the title explains it all. I can only hope you will like it as much as I do and you will enjoy reading it.

Please remember that english is not my native language and mistakes can happen.

Work contains smut.

Viscount Aemond Targaryen. A man known to few. With a mystery hidden behind his lavender eye, with a hair color of the December snow and a face cold and sharp like a stone.

He radiated both seriousness and arrogance, and with every word he spoke there was a sense of crude indifference to all those he considered unworthy of his presence.

And yet , despite all this , despite his status and sense of superiority , he stood here, stood and looked at the woman he couldn't have.

Her skin looked as soft to the touch as the most expensive velvet , her hair smooth and glistening , were pinned up and styled , highlighting her face , which was adorned with full , kissable lips and rosy cheeks. Her curvy body hidden behind the material of an expensive dark purple dress left little to the imagination , letting his eye and mind feast.

But whenever he tried to force her to level gazes with him her eyes seemed to run away from him. She never submitted to him. Instead, she chose to hide from the man, which made him want to hunt her, suddenly being more determined than ever in his life. And just as he was about to seize her , trapping her in the snare of his long arms , a female hand grabbed his shoulder, halting his movements.

-Mother - he said through a clenched jaw, looking at the older woman out of the corner of his eye.

-Where are you going Aemond? - she asked , wrinkling her eyebrows in consternation -Your betrothed has just arrived , don't keep her waiting - she confessed , shifting her gaze towards Floris Baratheon , who was standing at the other end of the ballroom.

-There are matters , which I must attend to. Immediately - he replied in a controlled and cool tone of voice, gently pushing his mother's hand away , leaving her before she could stop him physically or verbally.

His steps, like himself, were full of control and composure without betraying his true intentions even for a moment. Intentions that were able to crush him under the weight of future consequences, which, despite everything, seemed of little importance to the viscount ,especially when he finally found the mysterious woman who has clouded his senses with her mere presence.

She stood on the balcony , gazing at the night sky , letting the moon illuminate her immaculate face , giving her person an almost angelic glow.

But when Aemond crossed the threshold , placing his foot on the marble slab , the stranger's gaze almost immediately turned in his direction , finally allowing him to drown in the depths of her eyes , which looked at him with intrigue as well as a shadow of irritation.

-Who are you? - she asked , looking for an answer in the features of his face , unfortunately unsuccessfully.

-I should ask you the same question Miss- he stated , walking slowly towards her.

-And yet it was not I who burned the imprint of my eyes on the stranger's body - remarked the young woman , turning fully toward the viscount , now facing him -You did sir. And now you have decided to follow me.

-I did not follow you - he replied , placing his large hand on the stone railing , giving her a feeling of almost being trapped , by how close he was to her now - The truth is that I tried to find you.

-Since you have achieved this goal , what more do you want? - she asked almost in a whisper , studying his face , which was decorated with a long scar and a sapphire in place of the left eye.

-Your name. I want to know it- he said as quietly as she did , bringing his face closer to hers.

The air around them suddenly seemed to become hotter and heavier.

-I will tell it to you…if you tell me yours sir- she replied ,breathlessly , not knowing why.

-Aemond Targaryen - he said almost immediately wanting to know the name of the stranger, who with each passing second made him forget about the bride that waited for him downstairs.

-You're a viscount - she pointed out, placing her hand on his chest to create a previously non-existent distance between them.

Aemond furrowed his brow and took her wrist in his palm , feeling her quickening pulse under his fingertips.

-Are you worried that someone will see you with me? - he asked her with a shadow of amusement on his face.

-I'm worried about what a man like you wants from me , when he is about to marry one of Borros Baratheon's daughters - she stated , stepping away from the stone balustrade , forcing the viscount to let go of her hand.

-I simply wish to learn your name - he answered , repeating his earlier words.

-Y/n Stark - she said , finally revealing her identity, causing a satisfied smile to appear on the viscount's face, which disappeared as quickly as it appeared as she continued - Now if you'll allow me, I'll go my way and you go yours, and we'll act like this encounter never took place.

-Your secrets are safe with me , I assure you Miss - he reassured in a serious tone.

The woman's gaze fled from him for a brief second, as if she needed to think deeply about something. After a moment she shifted her gaze back to him, looking into his violet eye with stoic face.

-Goodnight lord Targaryen - she said before she left the man, leaving him alone with his thoughts.

When the silhouette of the woman disappeared , he wanted to follow her , but stopped himself , turning his gaze in the opposite direction. Yet he could no longer focus on anything other than the beautiful female he meet at the ball to celebrate the engagement, his engagement.

And he wasn't the only one.

It seemed that he was everywhere she was. No matter what she did , no matter where she went , his figure always appeared in the corner of her eye. He haunted her mind as much as she haunted his , and despite how much it tormented both of their souls , she kept her distance , running away from him like a game , while he was the hunter , hunting her. With each of their encounters being closer and closer to catching her.

Until finally there was nowhere to run , nowhere to hide. The only thing left was confrontation.

They met again at the ball , in the same place where their eyes first met , the first time they heard each other , the first time they touched each other's skin.

But this time the man wasn't alone.

Floris Baratheon held on to his arm , smiling shyly at the people who were watching the viscount and future viscountess.

And Y/n was one of them. Her eyes stared at them with a shadow of longing , that the young woman did not even try to hide.

-Are you all right sister? - asked her older brother, standing by her side since the beginning of the ball , watching her closely.

-Yes , yes - she whispered , turning her gaze toward the man, -I just need to get some fresh air.

Cregan sent her a concerned look but did not stop her , silently watching as she left the residence in a haste.

Her breathing seemed to become heavier by the minute , and her footsteps got more and more aggressive.

The realization of what was happening to her began to sink inside her brain. Miss Y/n Stark had fallen in love with a man who belonged to another.

And if fate hadn't mocked her enough , the bane of her existence appeared when all she wanted was to forget.

-Miss Stark - Aemond greeted her , standing still as she turned to face him.

-Viscount Targaryen - she replied , with distress in her tone -Why are you here?

-I saw you leave in a hurry - he explained , scanning her face, which had a grimace of fatigue on it -I wanted to make sure you were okay.

-Why? - she asked , frowning her eyebrows -Why you do this when your betrothed is inside , waiting for you. Why do you do all this? These unexpected encounters , fleeting glances. Why my lord?

The man suddenly appeared by her side. He was so close that their breaths mingled and there lips almost touched.

-Because I care about you - he confessed with seriousness in his voice , looking hard into her eyes.

-You don't know me. And I don't know you - the woman said , stubbornly trying to push away the viscount , but in vain - We can't love each other , we can't.

-And yet, despite your proclaims , I can no longer eat , I can no longer sleep , I can no longer breathe without letting you consume my every thought - he proclaimed , capturing her cheek in his large hand -You haunt me in my dreams , you haunt me during the day , you haunt me when I'm with my family , you haunt me when I look directly into the eyes of my betrothed - he growled , brushing her ear with his lips -You can deny it , but at least don't make me do it , don't make me continue to suffer without you by my side.

Y/n felt as if something had possessed her.

His words made her finally forget, but unfortunately not about him, but about the outside world that was so close to them, almost at her fingertips.

She let the viscount finally taste her full pink lips, embraced her wide hips in his rough hands, and dragged her to the carriage standing just behind them, locking them inside. The interior of it suddenly seemed so small , as their bodies pressed against each other.

His palms, large and warm, touched her in places that were forbidden to him, but in his movements there was not a shred of thought about the later consequences, only uncontrollable lust.

-From the moment our eyes met, I knew that I had to possess you, that I had to make you mine - he whispered into her neck, gliding his nose over her pulse, brushing the skin of her neck with his tongue again and again, leaving wet marks behind.

The woman moaned quietly in response , closing her eyes and tilting her head , making herself putty in his hands , which he took advantage of by pushing her onto the seat ,kneeling himself on the floor of the carriage , with his large hands running over the white material of her dress , therefore revealing the smooth skin of her legs , which he sensually kissed, leaving an electrifying sensation that caused her to shiver.

Her eyes closed involuntarily when the viscount's lips found their way to her heated and moist inner thighs , while his fingers melted into her firm bum , lifting her curvy body so her ankles could fell on the man's broad shoulders.

His teeth found their place on the woman's undergarments, tearing them in one strong movement, which caused the cold air to hit her sensitive womanhood, that trembled under the sudden change of temperature.

-Aemond - she whispered , calling him by name for the first time - What are you doing? - she asked, looking down.

-I want to taste you - he muttered , kissing her ankle - I wonder if you taste as sweet as your lips do - he said , slowly pulling up her long gown , so that nothing would block his view of the woman before him.

Before Y/n could respond to his words , his tongue touched her swollen clit , swirling it around the pink pearl , making her uncontrollably thrust her pelvis forward , imprisoning the man in the softness of her thick thighs.

Aemond , in response , growled , clamping his hands on her firm flesh , drawing her impossibly closer , feasting. His mouth explored her femininity , kissing and licking every part , leaving nothing without his attention . He was bestial , greedily drinking her juices , which tasted like the sweetest dessert of his life , as his eyes stared at the woman in front of him , who was consumed by convulsions of pleasure that tore their way through her body , making it burst into flames that consumed her mind.

The viscount watched with delight as she broke under her first orgasm of the night, licking everything she gave him , feeling under his fingertips how her muscles went limp , and seeing how her eyes became clouded by uncontrollable desire.

-Aemond - she said breathlessly , desperately grabbing his jaw , trying to pull him close to her.

-What is it my sweet? - he asked , purring like a cat.

-Please…please…make love to me, Aemond - she begged, brushing her lips against his, tasting herself on them, combing her fingers between strands of his white hair.

In response, the man embraced her curvy body , securing it in his strong arms , positioning the lovers so that this time he was resting on the seat , placing Miss Stark on his legs , immediately proceeding to assault her neck with slow kisses, while his hands crept to her throbbing entrance , which was waiting for him , embracing him tightly as he inserted two fingers into her , sensually moving them.

-So warm and tight - he muttered into her ear , biting its lobe - Full of desperation and need.

-Don't make me wait…I beg you…I can't stand it - she whimpered , burying her face in the hollow of his neck.

Viscount took her flushed cheek in his hand , making her look at him while his other hand skillfully unbuttoned his black pants , freeing his thick and long member , which he directed at her wet entry , entering her slowly and carefully , looking deeply into her eyes.

She felt like she could feel him in her throat. He rammed her insides , mixing the feeling of pain with pleasure , spreading it from the top of her head to her toes. She moaned, whimpered and mewled, letting him move her as he pleased, making her see stars. His member was hitting sensitive places that were never known by her, making her walls clench tighter and tighter against him.

The second orgasm that overtook her body felt overwhelming , yet he kept moving, wanting to feel the sensation of her thight walls clenching onto him for as long as possible, before he did what he wanted from the moment he saw her. He maked her his.

Y/n moaned softly, feeling the sudden heat that poured from inside of her , right between her wet and sticky thighs. Holding the viscount by the neck, she pulled him even closer, snuggling into his muscular body.

Everything seemed to quiet down around them. The windows of the carriage fogged up through their passionate act , and the air became hot and suffocating. However, they did not care , they were too busy melting into each other's embrace.

But this changed when she heard his words , whispered directly into her ear.

Will you marry me , miss Stark?

[jomiddlemarch]

Most affectionately, Charlotte

Within a month of her marriage, Charlotte Collins had no particular regrets, except that it was entirely possible she would lose her mind.

It could not be said that she had wed a cruel man. There was no especial malice driving any of Mr. Collins’s decisions and indeed, he had been kind enough in the marriage-bed, making an effort not to offend any delicate sensibility she might have, unexpectedly gentle, and she knew herself fortunate that in a parsonage which did not allow for separate bedchambers, he did not snore. He was less obsequious away from his patroness Lady Catherine, which meant that their evenings alone were tolerable unless a visit to Rosings was in the offing, a situation which drove him to a feverish pitch of mingled exhortation and instruction, remarks often repeated as soon as he’d uttered them. He gave her a fair allowance to run the household, she had a cook and housemaids, a gardener and a groom, and he made few demands other than to confess he detested mutton however it was prepared and had an uncommon fondness for skirret fritters. He labored mightily over his sermons, though she could tell little difference in them from one Sunday to the next, and blessedly, he did not expect her to act as his amanuensis.

He was just so terribly dull, she could hardly bear it, she who had chided Lizzie for her romantic ideals, the risks her friend took waiting for a man she might love with all her heart and soul.

Charlotte knew she might feel some affection for William at some point, but that was all the future held, a quiet, patient companionship and the years ahead stretched interminably, her body and position adequately sustained, her intellect withering.

It was a bargain she herself had struck almost eagerly and now could not confess her fears, for who would sympathize? Not her mother, who had been overjoyed and astounded that Charlotte had managed to snare the Bennett’s heir, not to her sister Maria, and though there was occasionally a surprising gleam in the eye of pallid Miss de Bourgh, she dared not risk speaking a slightest word that might be held against her husband, a disloyal wife who would risk his livelihood.

She tried playing the spinet, but her talent was paltry and the music meager, a thin broth. No degree of practice nor skilled tutelage would improve it. Her husband’s library was full of sermons and essays, his Greek texts from Oxford as unreadable to her as they had been impenetrable to him, but had she had a novel or collection of poetical works, they could not have held her attention much better. She sat in the window-seat and watched the lane, embroidered an altar-cloth, and felt her very self begin to come apart as the steam that rose from her afternoon tea dissipated into the air, into nothingness.

And then, a miracle! The letters began to arrive.

First, Lizzie wrote, regaling her with tales of her family, of her walks in the countryside, her wit and zest for life, her uneasiness about her prospects, her undeniable fascination with Mr. Darcy all readily apparent, despite the occasional blots due to her tendency to use her pen too long, when a fresh nib was clearly needed. She’d enclose a sprig of whatever blossom or herb she’d found on her excursions, small mementos Charlotte found dear and charming.

The next letter came from Jane Bennett, a polite little missive, much shorter than Lizzie’s, but possibly more informative, if one knew, as Charlotte did, how to correct for Jane’s perpetual sunniness to see the truth of Jane’s observations. It was a translation, to read Jane’s letters, and appreciate heartbreak and melancholy and anger, emotions Jane might allow Lizzie to see direct, but no one else.

There was a letter from her sister Maria, full of complaints, so much like home Charlotte felt the refreshment of relief when she finished it, to look about Hunsford and see her own domain, run to her own direction. The night that letter arrived, Charlotte kissed her husband as soon as he came through the door, and laughed when he blushed, smiled sincerely when he muttered I say, Lottie.

Her pen flew. She responded to every letter she received the same day, except for Lizzie’s, as they required more thought, more argument. She spent her pin-money on the best ink and skirret seed, so she might grow enough to make her husband skirret frittered, fried and creamed, so he might not complain at the cost of having her post franked. 

She wrote to Mary Bennett, suggesting the young woman read Sterne’s sermons and then Tristram Shandy. She wrote to her mother and asked for Cook’s best receipts for jugged hare, for a tonic for catarrh. She wrote to Miss de Bourgh, very carefully, extolling Rosings’ grounds, mentioning Herbert and more daringly, Donne, and was rewarded by short notes in an elegant hand inviting her to tea, asking her opinion on lemon curd. 

When she told her husband, he kissed her as soon as he heard, muttering, I say, Lottie, well-done you. And then, how sweet you are, how lucky we are, and Charlotte didn’t feel she needed to argue with him.

She’d simply write about it to Lizzie. She’d write and invite her for a visit.

Tagging @janeuary-month

[salmonhere]

eowyn X faramir

AU! Pride and Prejudice

[bunnykaye]

Polinween 2024 Week 5 - "We All Need Zom-bodie To Love" An AU within an AU.. A Pride And Prejudice And Zombies Polin AU for y'all!!!

[parkiebearr]

a CLASSIC enemies to lovers story

(click for better quality)

[the-witchhunter]

DP x DC Pride and Prejudice

So imagine if you will, the Fentons and the Batfam in a Pride and Prejudice setup

Jazz is obviously Jane, the oldest and most even tempered Bennet sister, making Danny Elizebeth Bennet, aka the sassy witty one

So who is the Mr Darcy to Danny’s Elizabeth?

Damian Wayne

Reasons he’s Mr Darcy

-rich

-proud

-lacks social graces. They understand the rules of formal society, but have a hard time navigating situations outside of those structures

-a lot of people headcanon as autistic and I kind of see it

This also means Dick is probably Mr Bingley, the emotional support ADHD to the probably autistic or at least socially anxious Mr Darcy. This also means this is a Jazz x Dick setup, my deepest apologies Anger management shippers

Now, why do I propose such a thing?

I find it hilarious for Danny to be under the impression he and Damian both dislike each other only for Damian to be thinking about how pretty Danny’s eyes are

The confession/marriage proposal? Are you saying you don’t want to see that social blunder happen? Confessing his love of Danny and shit talking the Fentons aside from Jazz? Only to immediately realize he has made a tactical error while Danny has to suddenly recontextualize every interaction between him and Damian?

Are you telling me that that wouldn’t be GOLD!?

Added hilarity is for Jason to wander into the story towards the end and just stare blankly at his copy of “Pride and Prejudice” after they catch him up of the situation

[aberrantcreature]

‘Not handsome enough to tempt me.’

[aoiveaeart]

🌿 || You may only call me "Mrs Grayskull" when you are completely, and perfectly, and incandescently happy || 🌿

Made something quick for my Pride and Prejudice AU. I've been deeply missing this story and wanted to do something sweet for it. Had a beautiful time rewatching the movie while I was working on it, to nobody's surprise because this is my favorite.

Based on the extra final scene of the movie ')

[verkomy]

you have bewitched me body and soul

[painted-kneecaps]

IT’S HERE.

Pride & Prejudice & Turnabout

THE MOMENT YOU’VE (I’VE) BEEN WAITING FOR-

P&P&T is now being published to AO3 !!

Thank you so much to everyone who has interacted with this story thus far !! This AU has consumed my mind for the last few weeks, and I’m so excited to finally begin sharing it with you !!

Here is a link to the ✨Official P&P&T Playlist✨ for that sweet, sweet ambience while you read !!

Love you all, and thanks for reading !! <3

[esther-dot]

Pride & Prejudice AUs

You Look Like A Movie, You Sound Like A Song 2k @jonsastan

She had met Jon Targaryen there. It was a complete accident and at first, Sansa thought, a complete misfortune. He was drenched from an impromptu swim in his pond, and she was flustered, not wanting him to think she was vying for his attention. But as she had attempted to make her hurried escape, he had found her and invited her parents to stroll with him around the gardens. He had offered her kindness, and thoughtfulness, he had talked with her parents, discussed the present state of politics with her father and chatted knowledgeably about gardens with her mother.

A Certain Step Toward Falling in Love 2k by @comma-splice

Jon Snow returns North after departing abruptly one year ago.

The Bennet Sisters - a P&P AU comic by @melinaillustrations

P&P Gifset by @sardoniyx, P&P Gifset by @dcbicki, P&P Gifset by deactivated

Persuasion AUs

Who Loves Longest, Who loves Best 1k by @ladysaruka

After refusing him years ago, Sansa sees her cousin once again.

Persuasion edits one, two , three by @glueck

Mansfield Park AUs

Half Agony, Half Hope 10k, incomplete by @noqueenbutthequeeninthenorth

After the death of his disgraced mother, Jon Snow is taken in by his uncle's family, the Starks of Winterfell. He grows up alongside his cousins, including the beautiful and kind-hearted Sansa, but knowing he can never truly be their equal, he fears he has little choice but to leave the place he's come to call home. corresponding moodboard

Catch Me If You Can 34k (P&P and Emma inspired too) by @ben-barnes-is-my-husband

Set in the countryside of Regency England, Jon Snow has been in love with Sansa Stark for as long as he can remember. He wants her as his wife, but Sansa is not sure she wants to be a wife at all, and she knows she doesn’t want to marry the pragmatic and boring Jon. She’d rather help Theon Greyjoy come out of his shell and play matchmaker. But then Jaime Lannister comes to town and Jon finds he has some serious competition for Sansa…

Moments Like This (So Few and Far Between) 3k by @lydiamartenism

Mama and Papa left the house to go pick up Jon, the son of her father’s oldest friend. Three weeks ago, the phone rang and their parent’s announced that Jon would be coming to live with them since his mother passed away and had no one else to take care of him.

Northanger Abbey AUs

The Lady in White 7k by @kissed-by-circe

Dragonstone Manor had looked like it had woken only a few days earlier, after a slumber of several years, if not decades, and Sansa had felt like the heroine of a gothic novel, a mysterious, naive girl with a dark past or a dark secret, arriving at the opening scene of the most dramatic story of all times. Or Sansa as Katherine Morland in a Jane Eyre Setting.

Sense & Sensibility AUs

In Such Jocund Company 2k @maybetwice

It would be no matter at all for Captain Snow to return to the north after seven months’ absence, had Sansa’s heart not changed entirely in that time. A remix of Colonel Brandon and Marianne Dashwood from Sense and Sensibility.

Emma & Clueless AUs

if i loved you less 2k by @ladystarks

Her father has, often and fondly, told Sansa that she and Mr. Snow bite at each other like wolves, but he hardly understood that their verbal sparring was as exhilarating as a sport well done, or a match coming together under Sansa’s skilled hands. corresponding artwork

Sansa: A NOVEL in Five Parts 15k by @imagineagreatadventure

Sansa Stark, handsome, clever, rich, hopes to establish herself as her town's foremost matchmaker. After seeing her governess Miss Shae married to the rich and clever Mr. Tyrion Lannister, she feels as though she deserves that title. Her dear friend and cousin, Jon Targaryen, heartily disagrees and is quite proven right when Sansa sets her sights on marrying off her newest and dearest friend Jeyne Poole to the vicar Mr. Baelish.

A Baldwin and a Betty 2k

Jon drives to the Valley to give Sansa a ride home.

Emma AU art by @dcvahkiin and Clueless art by wolvesofspring

Emma Gifset by @dcbicki

General Regency AUs

No Notion of Loving by Halves 2k @darkmagyk

The Stark cousin, Jon, goes home to discuss matters concerning the entail on Winterfell. In which Jon is a really good guy, and I flagrantly disregard how entails actually work.

Manners and Misunderstandings 114k, WIP by @x-winging-it

The Stark sisters have travelled all the way to London to begin their first season, leaving behind the familiar world of Winterfell Hall and a disappointed Jon Stark- with whom the eldest Miss Stark has been convinced to break off a connection. In London they join family friends the Baratheons and the fashionable young Tyrells in a world of romance and balls. Meanwhile Gendry Waters has been plucked out of the life he knew to become his ailing father's heir, Robb, Theon and later Rickon embark on military careers in the Napoleonic wars, and their aunt Lysa makes a foolish marriage. When tragedy hits the family, they must come together, learning how manners may hide monsters and the best people are often those misunderstood by society.

You Could Draw Me to the Gallows 2k by @azulaahai

After having eloped from home with and subsequently been abandoned by wealthy heir Joffrey Baratheon, Sansa Stark refuses to come home. Having caused a scandal that is sure to prevent her from ever marrying, she is adamant not to bring further shame to the family name by returning to Winterfell. Until, that is, a visitor comes to her - Jon Snow, an old family friend, determined to bring Sansa with him back north. He has a solution to offer her - a proposal with the potential to change both of their lives.

A Perilous Dance Indeed & fiercely, tenderly and eternally 27k by @amymel86

He should either look away or interrupt this improper little meeting, he knows. For some unfathomable reason, he does neither. The two look far too intimate for Jon’s liking, although he feels he should have come to expect it to be so. A romantic like Sansa – however proper she is – would simply adore overt flirtations and a secret tête-à-tête. Even from where he stands, Jon can see the way in which she has stars set in her eyes like precious cut stones. He only hopes the man for whom they shine is deserving of it. *** Cousin Jon is to inherit Winterfell Manor and its estate after the untimely death of his uncle leaves a widow and two daughters. Sansa is expectant of an imminent proposal from her dear beau, Harrold Hardyng and everything will be absolutely, stunningly, utterly fine.

Waiting for Your Slippered Feet 49k by @wintry-ritu

Lady Sansa Stark has always looked forward to her come-out season in London, the balls, the rides in Hyde Park, evenings at Vauxhall, the romance and wonder of it all. Never had she imagined that it would happen like this, with her parents gone and her younger siblings underfoot. Now, all Sansa wants is for it all to be over quickly so she can get back to Winterfell. She needs a kind, amiable man who will be brave enough to take on his wife's siblings. That should not be so hard to find in London, should it? And while she is most grateful for Jon Targaryen's help, why must her cousin be so distracting?

To Make You Love Me 16k incomplete and orphaned

When Ned Stark dies, he leaves behind his wife, two daughters, and his family’s estate at Winterfell. What follows is a series of unwanted marriage proposals, houseguests who far outstay their welcome, and Arya parading around in a comically large hat and an oil-paint mustache as she declares herself the new ‘Lord of Winterfell,’ in an attempt to dissuade her sister’s suitors. However, when Mr. Jon Snow — their distant cousin and Ned’s appointed heir to the estate — comes to call, an oil-paint mustache is hardly enough to deter him from courting Miss Sansa Stark. And she thinks, perhaps, that a man could marry her for love more than her claim, after all.

Mine for a Season 101k by @vivilove-jonsa

Colonel Jon Targaryen is a single man in possession of a good fortune who claims no interest in finding himself a wife. With his war wounds, he thinks no young lady would want him anyway for anything beyond the allure of his pocketbook. Fortunately and unbeknownst to him, Fate has chosen to find a wife for him and will even deliver her right to his doorstep. Taking on the responsibility of shepherding a young lady about for a Season in London is not at all what Jon had wished to do but he had accepted out of a sense of familial duty. However, once he meets Sansa again after only having met her years ago as a child, he may not consider it a duty so much as a torment.

a lady of winterfell 185k, WIP by @wandering-scavenger

She bit her lip and exhaled shakily, “If you are so sickened by the prospect of marrying me, we should be able to obtain an annulment easily enough with your father’s connections.” “I will do no such thing.” he snapped, refusing to look at her. Sansa had never felt more rejected than she did at that moment. Her past experiences of being humiliated at the hand of Joffrey did not feel as painful as this. Even so, she could not allow him to see the weakness in her, not now. “I will not be left out, Jon.” she said, tilting her chin up to look down at him. He grimaced. They were silent for longer than she cared to count, but each second that he did not speak chipped away at her resolve and her ability to withhold her tears. Jon did not want her, and she could not blame him. Who could ever want her? It should not have distressed her as much as it did. She was never his favourite sister, she who treated him as a stranger since she was old enough to understand what a bastard was. A tear slipped down to her face until she tasted the salt of it on her lips. “If we marry, we will remain so.” corresponding gifset

moth's wings 47k by @cellsshapedlikestars

Sansa was determined to convince her aunt to let Arya debut, which is how she finds herself in her current predicament. “Who is this secret gentleman who has asked for your hand?” Aunt Lysa asks, and Sansa knows from her tone that she does not believe. (She has every right not to believe, for it is not true.) And then Sansa does something very, very foolish. She says a name. “The Duke of Dragonstone!” Or, Sansa fakes an engagement so that Arya can debut and marry the man she loves. The only problem? Her fake fiance just so happens to be in the city when he was not supposed to be.

An Understanding 2k, WIP by @thewolvescalledmehome

At the start of Sansa Stark's third London Season, she decides it will be her last. She will secure a husband by the end of the final ball. Jon Snow is new to the London Season and high society. He never expected to inherit money or property from an unknown uncle. When they meet at a ball, Sansa gets an idea.

you're in my blood like holy wine 72k

Sansa finds it difficult to look at Jon’s face, with its weathered lines and cragginess. It is the face of the North and a face that northerners trust; the face of Sansa’s brothers and her father, who had been loved and respected by their tenants as their forefathers had been when they were kings. How can Sansa feel anything but resentment, looking into that face and knowing that all of her years of hard work will never earn her the respect that that profile engenders within seconds? But she does. It is a small, burning coal of something that must be smothered.

PRE CANON - WESTERN - FAIRYTALES - LITTLE WOMEN - HOLIDAY - SEASON 6 ANNE OF GREEN GABLES - THE GIRL IN GREY - FREE CITIES - FAIRYTALE PART II - POLITICAL MARRIAGE - SALTY TEENS - POST CANON

[evil-mop-eating-sponge]

AUFest Art!

My Work for MYCTAUfest :)

An Empires Pride and Prejudice AU of sorts! Featuring Scott and Jimmy as Mr Darcy and Elizabeth Bennet respectively.

This was a lot of fun!

And this is link to the first chapter of the amazing fic that was written for me by @uy8hg !!!

Thank you so much for working with me Kait

Character profiles (the rest of the art) under the cut!

@mcytblraufest

[jomiddlemarch]

without reference to you

Later, much later, it would be a small consolation that he had had no intentions other than to retrieve the next volume of the agricultural treatise he had found in the Netherfield library, having discovered the author cogently and thoroughly addressed several issues related to crop yield and various rusts Darcy and his steward had been wrestling with over the past eighteen months. It was an absolution he would grant himself repeatedly, one both Bingley and Fitzwilliam had referenced in attempts to soften the blow of the rushed wedding by special license to a gentlewoman whose family was undistinguished at best and embarrassingly silly far more often than he could wish.

He'd come into the library so caught up in his own thoughts, he almost had not noticed Miss Bennet standing at the window, her face in profile against the rain-streaked pane, the heavy grey clouds a subtle relief. It was the strangled sob she made that caught his attention, her anguish undisputable, reminding him of Georgiana’s grief after her return to Pemberley; there was a hopeless quality to the swallowed cry, a despair that did not expect comfort. It was isolation which drew him to her side.

“Miss Bennet, I cannot fail to observe you are distressed and I should like to assist in any way within my ability. I am your servant, ma’am,” he said. It was clumsy, he knew that as he heard the words uttered, too formal, too easily misconstrued or waved away, but it was what he had said and he must wait for her response.

“You are kind, Mr. Darcy, but there is nothing you can do,” she replied, her voice low, her fine dark eyes downcast. He had not seen her so pale before and the hand she raised to dab at her tears trembled.

“Perhaps you are mistaken,” he essayed.

“My sister is ill and you are not a physician. Even a physician will say there is nothing he can do, it is God’s will to decide and she did not even want to come here, not like this. It was all Mama’s foolishness and now Jane is insensible, burning up with a fever, she does not even know me and for what?” she said. 

“You must rest, you are over-wrought,” Darcy said, a peculiar ache in his throat as he spoke. Miss Bennet had said more than she knew but what was most salient was her sister’s failing health, far beyond the skill of even the most affectionate and diligent sister to nurse.

“I cannot. Who else will look after her? I cannot let strangers nurse her, she is the best of us, the best person I know, so good and sweet—she calls for me when I am right there beside her, her voice most piteous, she thinks I have abandoned her, and she can barely swallow a sip of water or broth, and I cannot lose her, I cannot—” she broke off, breathless, all her strength seeming to desert her. In the instant before she would collapse, he took hold of her arm and brought her to rest against him.

“Elizabeth, it will be all right,” he said, startling them both with his use of her Christian name more even than his gentle embrace; any gentleman would keep a lady from falling to the floor in a dead faint, but to address her so was the intimacy of a close relative, a father or a brother or a husband. He could not regret it, not when he saw her reaction, felt a surge of vitality in her weakening form and noticed the ruddy flush across her cheeks. “You will tell me the name of the best physician in the county and I shall send for him, Elizabeth. Whoever you want conveyed from your home to Netherfield I will have brought over by day’s end. You must not make yourself ill nursing her, you will not help her that way.”

“Sir, I am grateful, but I cannot, it is not proper—” she said.

Later, much later, he would recall that she had spoken so. He’d felt her begin to pull away from him and he had tightened his hold, bringing a hand up to rest against his chest.

“She is your dearest sister and I will do whatever I can to help you, Elizabeth,” he said and that was when the door opened for Charles and Caroline Bingley to witness the tableaux, Miss Elizabeth Bennet compromised in every way, her name on his lips very clearly audible given Miss Bingley’s gasp of horror and Charles’s look of disappointment, a slight shake of his head he would apologize for in the days to come.

“Pon rep, Darcy, you must explain yourself,” Charles said as sternly as he was capable of sounding. Darcy was reminded Charles also had sisters he felt responsible for and for all his congenial nature, was strict when it came to matters of honor and hospitality.

“Miss Elizabeth has done me the very great honor of agreeing to become my wife,” Darcy said. Elizabeth’s lips parted as if she would speak and then she pressed them together. “I shall obtain a special license after I send for a physician for Miss Elizabeth’s sister, whose fever is growing worse.”

“She’s that ill?” Charles asked. Darcy would have ordinarily made a point of expecting felicitations, but given that he had announced a wedding without making an offer and Elizabeth’s own anxiety about her sister, propriety could go hang.

“She’s in a bad way,” Elizabeth said softly. “I’ve never seen her so sick—”

“You must know the best physician in the neighborhood, Miss Elizabeth,” Charles interrupted. “Tell me his name and where to find him and I’ll fetch him myself.”

“I shall ride to Longbourn, speak with your father and bring your mother back with me, Elizabeth,” Darcy said. He must impress upon both Bingleys that he and Elizabeth were affianced, must undertake to render their engagement as unremarkable, the product of a brief courtship rather than a rakish compromise.

“Make sure she brings Hill with her,” Elizabeth said.

“You and Miss Elizabeth Bennet?” Caroline said, as if she were coming out of a dream, having been deaf to all conversation that had followed his declaration. “But you said she was barely tol—”

“Excuse me, Miss Bingley. You don’t appear to be yourself, perhaps a rest or some tea, in your room,” Darcy said.

“I will go back to sit with Jane,” Elizabeth said.

“Do not overtax yourself,” Darcy said, pitching his voice to be heard solely by her.

“Do not worry about me, Mr. Darcy,” she replied.

“Fitzwilliam,” he said. 

Once again, a few days late for Janeuary 2025 @janeuary-month day 13, prompt: Christian name.

[francesminos-tt]

Since we do have a pride/prejudice fanart for lucemond. We definitely need a fic/prompt for it! I would love to see your spin on it!

I totally agree! I think lucemond is perfect for Lizzy&Darcy dynamic. Imagine Rhaenyra living in a modest country house with her five boys. Jace is the oldest one, smart, reasonable, always taking care of the little ones. Luke is close to Jace in age, and they have been inseparable since they were kids. They have been in the social scene for about two years now, but they haven't found an ideal match yet. Joff is the middle child and he is about to make his social debut. Little Aegon and Viserys are young and robust children.

Enter Aemond, who has just inherited a handsome estate from Old Vizzy because his brother Aegon can't stand the trouble of managing the family estate and thus has escaped to Essos to enjoy his life. Aemond is instantly made famous because of his annual income and his scary yet intriguing look. The feud between Rhaenyra and Alicent still exists, and so does the eye incident. Luke is sorry for the loss of Aemond's eye but he is not sorry for protecting his brother. Luke is the pride one here, while Aemond is the prejudiced one because he is convinced that his nephew is a spoiled brat. Aemond tries to fight his own feelings by denying that he is attracted to Luke. Luke wants to apologize but is repeatedly turned down by Aemond. His pride is hurt badly so he stops approaching Aemond altogether.

Just when Luke and Aemond are at a standstill, Luke finds out that his younger brother Joffrey has run away with Aemond's brother Daeron. The scandal forces them to cooperate, both trying to save their brother's name, and in the process, they have discovered that they actually have a lot in common, love for their family and siblings, strong sense of responsibility, etc. They start to put aside their flaws and get to know each other. Aemond gives up some of his inheritance to support Daeron, so Daeron can actually marry Joffrey and start a life. Luke is very grateful and tries again to apologize for taking Aemond's eye. This time, Aemond finally listens.

I will forgive you, nephew, only if you give me something in return.

What is it, uncle? Do you want my eye?

No. I want something better. Your heart.

Luke is stunned for a few seconds until he realizes what Aemond means. He smiles and says yes.

Then comes the wedding bell and the happily ever after.