#Three Princes Crowned Of Ice AU | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

bts-0t-7 · 1 year ago

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Breaking Bonds | PJM | Chapter 1

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

WC: 2932

The history of the fae and nymphs - elements that used to live together harmoniously. Like the primary and secondary elements of life and magic, the love between faes and nymphs was sacred - so sacred that only royals had the right to arrange a marriage between their children.

But hundreds of centuries later, amongst the roots of enmity that were fueled by old grudges and misunderstandings, blew out of proportion and affected many citizens.

The dark history between them that started was marked by blood in the ledger books. The first is The Great Rift. The conflicts between faes and nymphs are often referred to in this phrase as the powerful fae kingdom taking lands that were traditionally inhabited by the nymphs. Territorial dispute ignited much hostility and opposition. This therefore caused the lack of resources. Both mystical beings relied on the same natural elements to thrive from the magical essence in their forests.

And within these battles of dominance grew something more than just territory but also magical supremacy. Each mystical being possesses its own unique and elemental powers. As the war grew to a larger scale, betrayals were not able to be prevented. A web of alliances and betrayals intermingle with the supernatural races while leading to mutual distrust.

The history was marred by not one, not two, but five different wars at different times. Both sides inflicted much suffering on the other. The wars led to untold loss with neither willing to yield. The main lasting repercussions come in, especially in the revised laws that were enacted to prevent any form of interaction or alliance between fae and nymph. Love between individuals of two races was seen as a dangerous threat to the stability of their respective societies.

The history was written in blood and the older generation of both races have a hard time letting go of their prejudices.

And here lies the snowstorm.

In the middle of the forest, where the snow blasts down like little chilling knives slicing through your skin and a good three feet of snow -

Your kind were the ice nymphs, once the royal family, now stripped of your title and an outcast amongst your kind. Where the fae folk thrived, you ventured - away from the place you once called home, now a barren room barely the size of a storage room. The scars of the Cold War between the nymphs still lingered, leaving the kingdom in the easy grip of the Lyrin fae.

You kind - the ice nymphs - were rare to come about, each one of your veins flows with the power of winter. In the lores, your kind was told to have a beauty that was like a fragile kind of enchantment, with hair as pale as frost, and skin as delicate as the first snowfall.

There were only a few times that you have looked in the mirror - countable with five fingers. After your family was stripped of their title, with you accordingly, life was never the same. Your people, with no place to go, lost trust and justice in you.

Desperation drove her journey as she yearned to escape the dark shadow of your people’s fall that hung over her head like a knife over the bed. Even with the ice in your veins, that winter night, when the biting frost finally embraced you and hunger gnawed at your core, your strength failed. You had pushed yourself as far as you could but as the sun dipped below the horizon, your body could no longer hold you up, giving in to your exhaustion and malnutrition.

Lying beneath the icy canopy, you were a fragile, half-dead being that is an easy hunt for food for predators living around the area. Your eyes swerved back, trying to calculate how far you might have to go back for shelter. But you didn’t know.

You had walked without a direction, lost in the depths of the Lyrin forest. Frostbites numbed your limbs and your brain was moving slower from the exhuation. But there it was, amidst the unforgiving cold and darkness, you sensed a presence stirring.

Your hazed hearing registered the crunch of footsteps in the snow as your blurry vision sent your brain to somebody standing next to you. Your eyes roll around until you have a clearer picture of who it is. A man with dark hair, brown eyes, and plush lips, dressed in regal attire with a crest of the fae kingdom. Lyrin was one of the biggest fae kingdoms and everybody knows their crests. After all, it was them who led the battles many years ago. It was them that inflicted the harm and loss on your people. It was them that had killed the ruling family back then.

Your family.

But he wasn’t the one who took the action. No, he was almost as old as you were and then, the both of you were barely kids.

Prince Jimin, they called him.

The golden sunlight.

The crown of Lyrin weighed heavily on his shoulders. He knew the crowning ceremony would be soon, and this winter, he wanted to let go and be just a man until he could no longer. Once he takes over the throne from his father, his duty to serve his country is solely on his shoulders. There was much to do and many things he would like to change, but even as king, these little ideas - as his father likes to call them - had to go through the council.

And Jimin knows that the old hags would never approve of it.

It went beyond the revised edition of the old laws.

To reconcile with the nymphs.

Jiminhad ventured into the forest today, going around with no direction, guided purely by an inexplicable force. The kingdom, although a realm of enchantment, was deeply tainted by the darkness of its past. If all was silent enough, one could still hear the shrieks and cries of the souls. The darkness had bred a strong sense of hatred and fear between faes and nymphs. Their mating was now an old tale of forbidden love - a story buried deep in history.

As he ventured further into the woods, he stumbled upon the nymph, your frail form half-buried in the snow. Your beauty, even in your weak state, took the breath right out of his lungs. He recognized you as a nymph with your small frame and pale, white hair. But it wasn’t completely white. It shone like the silvers of the moonlight when light reflected off it.

But it was when he moved to pick you up that he saw your family’s sigil, now faded from royal to common, that told him - you were no ordinary nymph. As his arms went under the ice, you stirred slightly at the movement. As you opened her eyes, he was completely taken aback by the sheer blue shade of your pupils.

Even with one foot into the Underworld, you looked ethereal to him. Jimin was snapped out of his daze when your frostbitten lips whispered a plea for help. In that moment, all history and hatred were forgotten. With fae swiftness, he scooped your fragile state - lighter than air - into his arms and covered you with his coat.

Determined to save her, he summoned a warm breeze that melted the frost from your body and sealed you in a cocoon of warmth. Jimin only dared to start running faster to his horse when colour slowly came back to your lips. Ensuring that you were safely tucked in his arms, Jimin ran back to the castle, fighting against death who wanted to take the girl in his arms.

As days turned to weeks, weeks turned to months. The little nymph’s life continued to hang in the balance and Jimin was a mess. He made every doctor attend to you, pacing around the bedroom day and night. He had caused an uproar in the kingdom when they found out that their crown prince had brought back a nymph - even more than this one that was from the late royal family - and was nursing her back to health.

His father had threatened to strip him of his title if he did not abandon you. But he could not do it. So it started the feud between father and son, neither backing down. Jimin understood that his late grandfather and his father had a feud among the nymphs, had been the ones who executed them and had been the ones to fight at the front lines. They were the ones who brought Lyrin to what it is today - expanded. But as Jimin studied the history of both parties, he felt a certain connection to the nymphs.

He did not want to be a ruler where their mystical counterparts would be afraid of them. He did not want to be a ruler like his father - ruling by fear from an iron fist.

While doctors attended to you, Jimin watched them with sharp eyes, ensuring that none of the doctors would slip anything into your bloodstream. When nothing helped and your state was only getting worse, Jimin grew more and more anxious. He had sifted through books and hunted down the Old Scripts.

He learned that your name was L/N Y/N, the youngest of the last ruling family. Your father had been killed in the war, your mother led you and your siblings to safety but soon after passed due to the broken mate bond. Your siblings were either caught by his father’s cavalry or died of starvation, leaving only you. Your records were still in the kingdom, seemingly down till two days before he met you. That means that you were active in your own kingdom, at your people’s mercy until you left.

He looked back at where you lay still on the bed.

And if he didn’t find you, you would have probably been dead by now.

You woke up to the warmth and luxury of a place you had only dreamed of. Your body was still weak and you didn’t know what happened after passing out. Slowly rising to consciousness, you found yourself in a room of blue and white, drapes swinging in the wind. But you registered that the windows weren’t open and the room was cold like… ice?

Winter may be the season but no room was made to stay cold unless the elements of the magicians’ are meant to stay cold.

Like you.

You curled your fingertips, feeling the soft, silky sheets beneath them. Trying to view the room from your current position - lying flat on the bed with a head that feels as heavy as bricks - you were taken aback by the sheer language it screams.

Royalty.

From the materials beneath your body to the furniture displayed, the decorations and architecture of the room, they were all beyond your imagination. You had not stepped into such a room since the battle. As you looked around, you realised the room was not originally made to stay cold. The fireplace seemed to be covered in a layer of dust but the decorations on them were clean.

And although you knew that this was not your room, the calming temperature felt just like home. But you had not been in a room like this for a very long time. Distantly, you heard the opening and closing of a door. Your eyes immediately shot in the direction of the sound just to find a man already standing beside the bed.

You were immediately broken out of your thoughts when you realised who it was and where exactly you were. You did not need to open the windows to know - you were on enemy territory. The rulers who killed your family. The rulers who brought demise onto your people.

But looking at the man, clad in a loose tunic and pants, dark brown hair ruffled in all directions, you couldn’t find yourself to hate him. Even as you knew that he shared the purest blood with the murderer, you knew that he… was just like you.

A family’s misdoings do not mean a child’s downfall.

One’s choice does not equal the choice of another.

You sink deeper into the sheets, holding in your sigh as you close your eyes.

“Oh!” Your eyes shot open to see the man right in front of you. “Oh, you’re awake! Oh, finally! Wait - wait - let me call the physicians!”

Your brain couldn’t register his words fast enough before you saw his body move so fast it was just a blurry shade running down the stairs. Or maybe it was just your vision that was a little crusty. Rubbing your eyes as you yawned, you got up from the bed. You wouldn’t like to overstay your stay, especially not in a place where your head was on a bounty.

You had left your kingdom only to be stuck in another.

Sighing, you looked down to your feet -

Your arms shot to cover your already clothed body. Wait, wait, wait -

Your hands patted yourself down. You -

You were changed.

Your plan to secretly escape was a fail the moment your ears picked up the sound of multiple heavy footsteps coming towards the room. The large doors were banged open, revealing a line of physicians behind the prince.

“There! There! I told you, she is awake!”

Squinting at the all-to-cheerful sound that the prince makes, the palm of your hands pressed against your ears.

“Careful, Prince. The Lady just woke up, her senses will be sensitive. You must lower your volume, Prince.”

Sheepish eyes shot at you, a guilty smile lifting the corners of his lips. The physicians fussed you back to bed and ran a thorough check of you, reporting back to the prince whenever they found something. Whether it was something healing or something that needs healing. Over the next few weeks, you realise how persistent and petty the prince can get.

He would refuse you bites of food if you were to call him by his royal title. He would refuse to help you up from bed, just standing at the corner of the bedpost when you need the restroom, always claiming, “If you aren’t going to help yourself, you don’t get to do your business.”

But you also realise how much he has gone through. As the only child, he was meant to take the throne a couple of weeks before he found you. But he had caused a huge uprising and a big fight with his father. When you were sneaking out one of the nights, Jimin found you during his nightly duties of patrol and whisked you back to the room.

Although you had left with the intention of Jimin’s life getting back to normal, he has increased your security so that you won’t have much of a chance to run away again.

Keyword: much.

You still had your chances and when that came, you took it. You had everything packed and ready, but this time, you left with a note at the bedside table, paired together with a magic-infused healing charm for the man.

Safe to say, it was a bad idea.

You knew it was the moment you penned down your goodbyes and gave him the charm. But you didn’t have much on you to give him for thanks other than the occasional swirls of magic in his office.

Yes, it was a horrible idea - of course it was! You were caught - again.

This time, Jimin didn’t just leave you back in the room. He was silent the whole time after he found you. The ride back, up the stairs, and even after the both of you entered the room. You saw the note on the bed.

Jimin’s back was to you.

“Why - Why would you think that?”

You were taken aback by the tears that streamed down his plum cheeks that you had teasingly squished the past few weeks. Looking down at the note, you felt a pang of… sorrow.

A sorrow that wasn’t yours. It shouldn’t be. “Because it is against the laws.”

“I do not care what the laws claim!”

“I am nobody, Prince. You have a duty to serve your kingdom and its people. I am a princess, stripped of my title, belonging to the very kingdom your father and his father killed through. The very princess that they couldn’t care less before killing off my father on the battlefield.” He couldn’t be yours. He was a prince, deserving of one better than a bond that was looked down upon.

“My ancestors can go suck their dicks.”

You pulled a face at the crude language. You knew that he would be insisting - you found out that much about him - and you prepared yourself for a situation like this. But your resolve was already crumbling.

“Prince -”

“Stop, stop! I am yours! Please - I beg of you - stop calling me by my title.”

You sucked in a deep breath. “You are more than your titles. But you are also the light of your people. The only heir to the throne and you will not shove it away just because we are bonded. I refuse.”

“I will lay the world down on your feet for you, please. Do not leave me.” His cries hurt you more than knives and ropes splitting your skin raw.

“My world is not one you can provide.”

My world is you.

But you wouldn’t dare say that as you turned your back to him and walked out of the castle, following your original plan in mind.

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multiversal-madness · 1 year ago

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So I’m making another ‘which Au should I do next but this time I’ve made sketches to go along with each of them:

(These were quite fun to make I should do simple sketches more often-)

So the three Aus you have to choose from this time are Magwood’s Will, Ice Prince Present and Adventure Valley. Here’s a brief description of each:

Magwood’s Will - Magwood lives on in the crown, wearing away at its wish over eons. By the time Simon puts it on, the crown breaks and Magwood takes Simon as its host. Pretty much lava werewolf/dog Simon.

A few extra details I didn’t put in the last post: Betty doesn’t ‘leave’ straight away so there’ll be some pre-war post-‘crown’ Simon and Betty stuff. Also Simon being a dad is a big part of this au.

Adventure Valley - After the encounter with GolBetty and spitting up a whole universe, Simon’s physical form wasn’t very stable. If sent back to Ooo, the abundance of magic and weirdness would distort him further but if sent to a magicless world it’s resistance to anything magic or weird would snuff out the instability and take Simon with it.

GolBetty managed to find a universe that would let Simon’s instability settle without making it worse or killing him, so she sent him there, having him end up in an abandoned farm house on the edge of Pelican Town. Basically this is a Stardew Valley Crossover.

Ice Prince Present - Due to the uncertain and unbound nature of Fionna and Cake’s universe, when all of the magic ‘disappeared’, some of it ended up in Fionna’s head causing another universe to appear. This one was much smaller than hers though and while she and cake could visit it in their dreams, it could only permanently house one conscious person. Ice Prince.

When Simon accidentally draws Fionna and Cake out of his head, the ritual also frees Ice Prince from Fionna’s head. He will join the trio on their journey across the multiverse in search of a crown while trying to figure out just who he is outside of Fionna’s fantasy.

#Adventure Time #Adventure Time Au #Simon Petrikov #Fionna and Cake #this poll is mostly for fun but also I’m indecisive so-

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kimdokjas · 2 years ago

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Hi, do you know any fics of joongdok that retains Dokja's sass? Preferably an au because novel angst hurts. Tyy in advance.

OH BOY DO I *pulls up my [redacted number] pages of ao3 bookmarks* this is gonna be long so i'll put it under the cut!

okay so, some of these are a bit heavier on the humor than others, but in general i feel like these fics do a great job of retaining kdj's snarky personality!

Joongdok AU Fic Recs

the pros & cons of caramel by sunwarmed

“What’s in this,” Yoo Joonghyuk demands. “Peruvian dark roast.” Yoo Joonghyuk looks as if he’s about to commit a crime, so Dokja takes pity on him and continues, “And sugar, ice, whipped cream, cookie crumbles, caramel, hazelnut syrup, chocolate, and a little bit of almond milk. Really, I put a ton of work into making this, and you’re not even thanking me.” Yoo Joonghyuk’s eye twitches — once, twice, three times — before he takes the cup and squeezes it so hard Dokja’s a little afraid the drink will fly everywhere. [or: 5 times kim dokja makes yoo joonghyuk (the wrong) coffee & one time yoo joonghyuk returns the favor.]

loving out of tune by almostprimary

After a truly tragic series of events, Kim Dokja gains a new neighbor who also happens to be the only person in the world he would, without hesitation, push in front of a moving vehicle.

you're home by ksalientian

Yoo Joonghyuk is sick. This is not, strictly speaking, a problem, except for how Joonghyuk has never been sick in all the years Dokja knows him other than when he's been actively dying, which he is probably not at the moment, but how is Dokja supposed to know that, he's never taken care of a sick person, Dokja barely even takes care of himself when he's healthy because Joonghyuk is the one doing that most of the time, and now Joonghyuk is sick— Okay, Dokja thinks, staring at the thermometer that reads 39.2°C in cheerful green, this may be a problem.

new activity by oronine

In a strange turn of events, Kim Dokja meets one pro gamer on Google Documents and begins a correspondence.

pretty strangers by HeavenlyDusk

A stranger at a party drags Yoo Joonghyuk around town. Somehow, in the span of one night, he falls in love.

Moving Out of the Closet by Sinnatious

Yoo Joonghyuk meets his neighbour Kim Dokja, who at first glance seems to be living in what he thought was the building's janitor's closet.

two hands of the same clock by furihatachlookie

The hour hand falls upon the fifth hour, and Yoo Joonghyuk dies before the clock can chime in answer. In which a crown prince and a commoner, unaware of one another's existence in this seemingly unbreakable time loop, inevitably cross paths.

"can u tattoo 'i love u' in flowers?" by crispy_scoliosis

In which Kim Dokja, a florist, reunites with his estranged childhood friend, Yoo Joonghyuk.

a new reality with you by fruitastic

Yoo Joonghyuk is a beta tester for the unreleased game “Ways of Survival'' and gets way too attached to a simple NPC, Kim Dokja. When the final battle looms over his head, will he be able to say goodbye? ...Hmm…Maybe Mia was right about touching grass…

to begin again. by frostfall

(In which Kim Dokja goes on a blind date. It's just his luck that he runs into his ex.)

salsa doesn't count as tomatoes by aphrodisiac

Yoo Joonghyuk has a roommate. (And a crush.)

couples discount by anemotions (realdefonge)

When junior manager, Yoo Joonghyuk wins the grand prize of their company’s raffle–a five-day trip for two to Hawaii, all expenses paid–the senior manager, Kim Dokja, who’s had no luck with raffles, asks the junior manager to bring him along as a travel buddy. Yoo Joonghyuk eventually agrees and they go to Hawaii. But things only escalate from there because apparently, there’s a 50% dinner buffet discount for couples in the hotel, and Kim Dokja would to absolutely anything to avail it.

gimme choco (or gimme love) by beewithouthoney

Every Valentine's day, Yoo Jonghyuk's desk is buried in a heaping pile of chocolates. And every year, Kim Dokja gets one from the pile.

on the art of unplanned serenadingby sunwarmed

“Then prove it,” says Yoo Joonghyuk, voice low, and Dokja is struck with a few realisations at once. One — he isn’t a good cook at all. He relies on microwave meals for the vast majority of his diet. Two — when it’s revealed that he’s not a good cook, he’ll almost certainly never hear the end of it. Three — Yoo Joonghyuk has a really nice voice. Goddamnit. [or: kim dokja keeps accidentally asking yoo joonghyuk out on dates. he swears it's only because he likes annoying the hell out of him. probably.]

When I said I hate isekai tropes, I wasn’t sarcastically praying for it to happen to me. by Waltzfor-Zizi(azro_zee)

Kim Dokja wants it on the record that he absolutely loathes those cringey royalty isekai stories and even more so the cliché archetype of cold and murderous but devastatingly handsome black-haired dukes with a troubled past. He really should learn by now that the universe has a hobby to throw him into the lion’s den and make him swallow his own words. After all, he and the God up there do not share the same taste of humor.

there are more but this is getting a bit long orz

i hope these are similar to what you're looking for! if you want any more recs feel free to let me know <3

EDIT: if you're looking for even more recs (and also some of my absolute faves) there's now a Part 2 here!

#me looking mournfully at other fics i desperately want to rec but don't fit the criteria for this ask..... maybe next time king 😔#also the 3 staples of jd fics if u haven't read them already: geometric shapes / netdog / imaginary truths #orv #omniscient reader's viewpoint #orv fic recs #joongdok #fic recs #ask #mortal-dumbass

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buttertheflame · 1 year ago

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Open Call for Feedback 🔎

Hi Jonerys lovers, I’m a fic writer who’s been on hiatus for a few years and I’m back. Check out the prose. Does it drone on? I’m in the editing phase…

A Normal Family

4k words, Jon x Dany, Dany POV, post-ADWD, TWOW-speculation

(excerpt from chapter 1 of a 5-part au fic, sequel to A Long Way Home)

Castle Black

Present: 302 AC

Winter

She knew it was a dream when she felt the heat, for in Volantis, the air was hot and dewey—the evening almost as sweltering as the day. At first, Daenerys thought she was breathing fire—it was such a beautiful thing—as the oily Black Walls of eastern Volantis’s old blood gained a vermilion glow in the night. Within, a labyrinth of palaces, cloisters and temples burst into flame. Then out of the ashes came waves of slaves of every designation, crying, The Princess Who Was Promised! There were dozens. The dark eye has begun to lift from her! There were hundreds. The minions of the night will lose their temples of deceit! Then there were thousands. She will bring an endless Summer, and those who die fighting her cause shall be reborn! And tens of thousands. She is Azor Ahai reborn! Wait! Wait for the return of the blazing comet! Lord of Light, herald her coming!

“Yes!” she cried in ecstasy, carried by their fervor. “Yes!”

Daenerys could not even search for her sense of shame, for her Lord would not allow it. Not even when the great river westward then rushed to meet her, and took her through valleys at the feet of countless mountains. Far ahead, the Rhoyne broke into three different tributaries, causing the air to cool with them. Below, a field of poppies dotted the earth. It is the Trident, she realized, and settled herself further in the saddle upon Drogon’s back. She remembered. Her foes would appear, armored in ice, and she would burn them all.

Instead, a lone rider came upon a hill. The red helm of a two-headed dragon took shape, dotted with four rubies for eyes. The black visor was lifted. Daenerys did not wish to see her beautiful brother die again, so she opened her mouth to warn him, but she would not be heeded. Rhaegar turned to face the antlered yellow and black rider who had trailed behind him, thus revealing an infant in his free arm. She startled as the babe, held tight to his black gleaming breastplate, gazed at him in wonder. His buoyant laughter mingled with Rhaegar’s soothing voice. The father’s lips pressed to the soft infant crown, from which sad and sweet notes rose.

“He fixed himself wholly

And laid in the earth.

Then fashioned his crown

From a field of dirks.”

Daenerys mustered up a sob so strong it caused her to wake.

After a choked beat, she found Jon Snow next to her, his back also flat to the feather bed of their private room, his face turned to train dark eyes upon her, in the gloom of the very late night or very early morning. She had not wanted to look too closely at the red priests of Essos who had called her this promised prince. It was a legacy she did not want. When his fine hands reached her face, Daenerys’s mind grew desperate. I must pursue the Iron Throne. Jon wiped away her fresh tears then drew her into his arms.

“I’m here,” he whispered. “I’m here.”

She nodded against his chest, but failed to shake the tension from her belly and limbs. Her heart quivered with guilt for keeping this from Jon, and fear, over what he had revealed to her last night. I could have become one of them, he had told her, a week ago back in Winterfell. As she wondered why hadn’t he become one of those vicious wights when his body had lain cold for two days, the guilt that followed and her grief for Viserion stayed her tongue. Then he’d promised to give her the realm and afterward settle them on Dragonstone, once the wars were won. She couldn’t help but hold onto his promise.

A family and the realm. Surely, they could have both? But given the fresh news, she wondered…could hers and Jon’s children be safe with him? Could their line be safe with him? Could she and her royal consort truly achieve this goal? A family and the realm.

She thought of the cautious, wise and bold Ser Barristan Selmy, the Commander of her Queensguard who had lost his life half a world away fighting the reignited war against the Essosi slave cities. No more than a hundred days prior, it had been in a moment of relative peace, while the killings and slayings of her people were still going on: as she considered marrying the snake zo Loraq to broker peace, Ser Barristan had cautioned against marrying for political gain only, but to also consider love. He said that her grandsire Jaeherys had commanded his children to wed, for a woodswitch long favored by her grandmother had visited the Red Keep to prophesy that the prince was promised would be born of their line.

Daenerys jerked, then pulled away from Jon.

If this prince is what Jon said it meant…perhaps he had been born to die. The thought incensed her. Did Rhaegar really do this? Could he and Lyanna Stark have been so cruel?

Moreover, if the followers of R'hllor thought Daenerys was this promised prince…had she, too, been born to die?

Another sob rose…and the contents of her half-digested dinner followed. It stunk the frigid air, but her disgust wasn’t great enough to cause her to stop; her muscles took command, demanding that she retch until there was nothing left. It took her to the edge of the bed, where she groped blindly until she found a metal sheet and brought it forth. She was dimly aware of Jon moving to stand on the stone floor. He ran a soothing hand along her back and stopped to catch her hair, as she retched into the bedpan.

“Leave me!” she gasped, mortified. “Jon, please.”

He hushed her. “Daenerys, please do not be ashamed! I’m here. Do not ask me to leave. I’m here.”

He moved the hand on her back faster and focused on the span between her shoulders, trying to coax the tension out of her muscles. Chagrined, she took his other hand, which he squeezed. It was bone dry and warm, a solid comfort she was distantly aware of, and no more.

Jon passed a hand through her hair one last time, pulling her from her haunted musings. She huffed, licked the acidic grit from her teeth, and then pulled herself back up to lay down on her side. When Jon pushed the bedpan aside to kneel on the floor, a realization came. Words are wind, she had thought, for so long, especially the prophecies among them. Yet so much had happened since the maegi tricked her in the Plains of the Lhazarene. Now that she was here beside her lover, pondering all they meant to the greater world, it was so clear to her now. There was something to Ser Barristan’s words that he and I could not have foreseen. Does everything happen the way it must? Some called it fate. Her wheezes were the only sounds as the sickness left her in a slow drip. They eventually slowed to a halt and her breaths returned to normal.

The outlines of Jon’s handsome face came into view, his dark brows pulled and lips pouting with worry as he seemed to search her eyes. She cupped his cheek weakly, and smoothed her thumb along his stubbled jaw. Weary though she was, she would not be able to return to sleep.

Leaning forward to press his lips to her forehead, Jon whispered, “That’s good. You’re alright. It’s alright, now, Dany.”

He swept the hair from her face, stroked her neck, brushed her shoulders then eventually palmed her waist. She shivered, delighting in his much needed closeness. Then he kissed her forehead again. He climbed into bed again and gently drew her into his arms, encouraging her to tilt her head back to rest on his shoulder. He rubbed light, soothing circles on her belly for many long, peaceful moments. She felt like a rock tumbling in the flow of a river’s current—unable to see yet unable to distrust its strength. What was this? Undeserved peace?

When she followed its source, she found herself musing once more.

Many ran to and fro to search for the one who was promised. Somehow, in all the Known World, the two bearing the designation had met and were in this bed, at this Wall. The Lord of Light had called upon Jon to continue his fight and gave him renewed life. Of course, of the stories she’d heard, none who had been given the kiss had been half as worthy as Jon…but perhaps His grace covered all of mankind. For, when asking R'hllor to give them a glimpse of His chosen, the red priests had seen her and him—their deeds and the shadows they cast—in the flames.

What, then? Was He faithful? Had he held her life in His hands the way a hen huddles chicks beneath her wings? Had he watched her all this time, patiently waiting for her to acknowledge Him? Was He as good as His word?

Her soul had quieted some, enough for her to sense an answer…

A whisper upon the wind.

____________________

Jon had sent for the maester. Once he returned, he helped her to finish building a fire in the hearth, with good humor and quips that no queen should ever tend to such a task. Much needed light and warmth filled the air and brought her once more into his arms. In a quiet voice, he suggested they speak as little of Samwell Tarly as possible, for it was likely that he would send word back to the Citadel about him, the novice who had fled with stolen items of knowledge. Though Archmaester Theobold had no proof, he certainly suspected Samwell. Daenerys was certain that the Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch would be furious with the ordeal. He did not strike her as one who enjoyed dealing with the unexpected. In some moments, neither did she. Especially today, it would seem.

“Your assessment of Dolorous Edd is correct,” Jon chuckled. “But why should he enjoy it?”

“He seems quite good at it, to have lasted longer at his post than you,” she teased. “We should all enjoy what we are good at.”

“We should. But we don’t.” He did not jest as she thought he might; instead, a frown had taken his features. “Our Sworn Brothers once called him Sam the Slayer. He was training under Maester Aemon as a steward; I sent him to the Citadel to forge a link or three, not to become a stealer. But I suppose Euron Greyjoy’s threat to Oldtown convinced him to return quickly. This matter…it is something the Lord Commander will have to deal with.”

“With your help, I am sure. Those letters of yours must be invaluable to him.”

His frown deepened, brought on by some aggravation unknown to her. Did he still feel guilty for giving counsel on the Night’s Watch operations? Perhaps his discomfort was prudent. He allowed her to part from him with some reluctance. She could feel his gaze upon her back as she moved to the small table near the lone glass window, musing. In Winterfell, Samwell had told her that her great uncle Aemon Targaryen had loved her, that he had wanted to help her, but he died once their party had docked at Braavos. With her chin in hand, tears blurred her view of the dark courtyard far, far below. Would this great uncle of mine have known Rhaegar? Did they somehow discover his prophecy together? Did he approve of his designs on the realm? What even were they? It was still early enough that dawn light was still hours away. At its appearance, their task to march their army of two-thousand men to fortify their designated castles on the Wall, would come too soon.

“My love…I have never seen you so ill! Did last night’s turnip stew somehow disagree with you? I know you prefer simple dishes.”

Jon knew she desired some space. He had moved to the desk on the other side of the room and leaned against it. Despite the brief respite of earlier, her mood had soured with the taste of bile in her mouth. She raised one shoulder in answer. “It was simple enough.”

“Your dream. Do you want to tell me about it?” Growing irritable, she sighed again.“What I said last night, of my mother’s line…it upset you, didn’t it?” She startled at his accuracy, and his voice rose again, now tremulous. “Was it a dragon dream you had?”

“I…” The babe in Rhaegar’s arm flashed before her eyes. Her heart quickened. “I don’t know.”

The silence that followed was just as painful.

“I am so sorry, Daenerys. I will be more careful.”

“No,” she said quickly. “No, Jon. Don’t be sorry for anything. I need you. Don’t hold anything back from me.”

Not again, she thought. Never again.

“Sweet Daenerys, don’t be afraid. You have me. I’m yours.” He tracked slowly toward her. “I just…I cannot hurt you again. I will not do that again. I would rather die.”

The sudden knock at the great door announced the arrival of Buford of House Belmore. Jon reached her, and passed a soothing hand down her back, then casted pained looks at her even once they turned to scour through their chests to make certain their clothing was decent enough for company: Daenerys in an ankle-length undersilk below a wrapped woolen shift which she tied at the waist, Jon in an undertunic and leather breeches. Once their boots were on, she soothed his pain with a kiss on his cheek and enjoyed his small smile. Then he opened the door and allowed the maester of Castle Black to enter. The other man was overly tall and not yet aged, with light brown hair turning gray at his temples, thin locks cut neatly across his forehead and around his large ears. Eight chains formed a rather tight link around his neck and brown rough spun robes, but they did not weigh him down. Carrying his medicines in a hide, he tucked it under his shoulder then bowed to the Dragon Queen and her royal consort, the King in the North. A steward training under the maester came behind him with a contraption that folded out into a table. As the maester rested his hide and rolled it out on the table, the steward asked for the location of the bedpan. Once he had it in hand, he exited the room and closed the door. Maester Buford thanked King Jon for sending for him so quickly, then sat down to work.

It was a stilted conversation—not much was said, for which she was pleased. Daenerys wanted to get through his examination without any more shame than she was already feeling. He felt below her jaws to test her glands, then asked her to open her mouth of which he looked inside with a small candle, finishing with a check to her pulse at the wrists, then testing the tension of her belly. The maester did not know them, so after concluding that all was well initially, he spent the next few minutes choosing an herbal potion for her to drink over the next fortnight. Once the small vial of purple liquid was in her palm and she was chewing a piece of sourleaf to cleanse her mouth, he looked between the young rulers and folded his palms in his lap.

“If I may ask, your grace…when did your moon blood last come?”

She could not answer the question directly. “It comes in fits and starts.” But he merely blinked at her. “My cycle is not regular.”

“Has it always been this way?” When she would not respond, he said, “Forgive me, Queen Daenerys, but I have heard the story of your previous pregnancy, some years ago, in Essos.”

“My son is not here with us, is he?” she snapped. “Forget those stories—I tell you now, he was not viable. That is what the healers said. He could not be carried to term.”

“I…see.” He trembled, as if afraid. “I am truly sorry, Queen Daenerys.”

Jon shifted on his feet, but said nothing. He squeezed Daenerys’s fingers.

“Forgive me, Maester Buford.” She swallowed the remains of the bitter leaf. “Already, it has been a long morning. And the blood of the dragon runs hot. You see, I often wish my son could have come into this world to experience it for himself.”

Jon sucked in a wet breath and snuck a hand into the nape of her hair; something far too intimate for their guest to see.

But his touch was grounding, and preceded a memory that followed on the heels of her shaky gratitude. It was like standing on the shifting grains of Dragonstone’s cold beach. There, many weeks before they had discovered the island’s northern caves, she had shared with Jon the tale of her dragons’ births upon Drogo’s funeral pyre, as the red comet had passed from west to east. His quizzical requests for more details made her overcome with grief, and so with sympathetic lines around his eyes, he had beseeched her. Say anything about your past, and I will not turn away. Tell me everything, and I will not turn away. The salty Autumn air had filled her tongue, as Rhaego’s name lingered among the virulent waves. She could almost see Jon’s stunned features, sense the comforting strength of his arms around her, and catch the scent of his borrowed furs. It was the first time she had cried in front of him.

Now, she covered her hand with his, when it found rest on her shoulder.

“I understand, your grace,” the maester replied. “It is a great shame. But from what I can see, you have done well to carry on, for which we who aim to fight the dead are grateful. Perhaps the Gods will grace you once more.” He passed a glance over to Jon, and then gave her a small smile that almost reached his eyes. For all intents and purposes, the examination of this maester was not as cold as she had feared.

Curiously she asked, “Do you have any gods, Maester Buford?”

“I follow the Old Gods, your grace. Like my father before me, and his father before him.”

“The Vale is your home,” Jon said, speaking for the first time. “Your brother Lord Benedar holds Strongsong…and has stayed in Winterfell to support my sister Sansa for many moons, now.”

“Aye. But I must correct you, King Jon. I have no brothers but those in black.”

Jon paused, and then he chuckled.

The maester continued. “Perhaps Benedar would have left me as castellan instead of our cousin, but I am already a maester, and I am quite comfortable here at Castle Black. It is the lot that life has cast for second sons and such. But you, King Jon, have risen above all odds.”

Daenerys understood why this maester thought such a notion would be appreciated by Jon, but she knew it was another matter he must worry about. She gestured for him to make himself comfortable, but he gently refused and continued standing at her side.

“All odds.” Jon seemed to weigh the words. “I didn’t do it on my own, ser. Neither did I seek it. If any of our—your brothers ask, please relay that message to them.”

A wrinkled brow relayed the question, Why should it matter? But the maester was wise not to speak so insolently. Ponderously, he shifted his hands on the makeshift table. He could sense that he was being dismissed.

“Very well, your grace. Queen Daenerys, you should eat smaller meals with greater frequency, if the sickness returns on the morrow.”

She eyed him warily. Did he, too, think she was with child? Could he sense that she wasn’t yet certain if she wanted to be?

He moved to his feet, then inclined his head to her. “Only if. In any matter, the vial should be consumed once daily for a fortnight, as I have said. It was a pleasure to have your private audience. I look forward to serving you both in this Great War.”

Somehow, Daenerys doubted that. He did not seem as single-minded as Jon and Samwell’s stories of Maester Aemon. If anything, he seemed to be all talk with little bite. Perhaps it was the least one could hope for, to make one a good maester. As she mused with an absent frown, Buford Belmore rolled the hide holding his vials and instruments closed, then bowed to them both. Daenerys thanked him with as much sincerity as she presently could, as fear slowly snaked around her heart.

Once he neared the door, Jon called after him. “Maester Buford, as you are aware, Queen Daenerys and I are not here to take a tour of the Wall. I hope that when our army has finished its task, we will meet with you again, and discuss other matters with Lord Commander Tollett. Until then, I wish you good fortune in the wars to come.”

Though Buford Belmore’s brows rose to his neat fringe, he obeyed at once, bowing again to them. At the opened door, the steward fetched the table, folded it up and then followed him out. Once the door shut, the crackling fire in the hearth resumed its prominence.

“Why did you say that?” Daenerys asked, craning to meet Jon’s eyes.

“He should know that I will be thinking of him. I do not want him to be the cause of Samwell’s downfall. What will we do if the Citadel found it within them to track Sam down and try him?” He shook his head. It was growing light outside; light enough that his black curls looked less like one mass, and revealed their individual beauty. “I am always thinking of you, as well. Do you really think you could be with child, Daenerys?”

Her gaze turned even softer, eyes tracking the hope and fear lining his face. She had once bared her shame to him and watched with tearful awe as it fell into his hands. What would he say now, that he was called to share this burden once more? She pulled him close by the waist, then tilted her head back until he kissed her. Relief loosened her tongue.

“I hope,” she whispered against his mouth. “And yet I do not hope. I do not think I would deserve something so beautiful.”

“Deserve?” He pulled away, with gentle fingers at her chin. “You are the most deserving! You are the most patient, the most kind. You have never tried to stop understanding me.”

“It is easier than you think, Jon Snow.”

“So you say.” Ignoring her evasion, he gave her a tremulous smile. “My brother and sisters say I am a pain. But you…are a rare, unearthly thing.”

She turned her profile toward him, yet he followed on shifting feet; beautifully quiet, always quiet and thinking. She tried to brace for what would come next, but when he spoke softly, as if to avoid spooking her, she was caught away again.

“Daenerys, what do you think Rhaego would have wanted from you? He would have not wanted you to be ashamed. You were tricked into losing him.” A sob came up her throat, just as wet as the one that had preceded her episode. Unperturbed, Jon drew his arms around her. “I know it is hard, and you have been so brave to have come so far. But I believe you will have to become braver, to bring a child into this world.”

“Bravery has nothing to do with it.” She hesitated once the words were out, although she couldn’t quite call it a snap, weary as she was. Jon did not take offense, nor did he judge. In fact, the preserverant brightness in his eyes carried her gently down that river.

“Forgiveness, then. Rhaego would have wanted you to forgive yourself.”

“He…” Daenerys hiccuped.

“He would have wanted you to be happy. Isn’t that so, my love?”

After a beat, she nodded against his chest, for the second time that morning. It was absurd. Despite being so unceasingly vulnerable on the morning of a march, this was too important to dismiss, delay or bury. Jon knew it well. Now, it was he who hesitated.

“I should have told you this long ago. If you would like…he could be as much mine as he is yours. My sweet Daenerys…” He brushed her silver-pale hair behind her shoulders, trailing the fingertips there as he went. He whispered in her ear, stirring her aching heart further up and up. “He should not be mourned alone, nor remembered alone. I can bear this pain with you. Please, let me.”

It was madness. Although there had been the recent loss of her dearest child Viserion, Daenerys had all she wanted. Across Essos, hundreds of thousands, perhaps millions, of people whose chains had been broken; their cries of freedom reached the ears of each and every god, as they worked with each other to keep it so. A place to vie for in the hearts of the men, women and children of Westeros; and in that place was a war to fight and people to bring peace to. In Jon Snow, a friend, family, a lover—and at his side, home. She had leaned on the certainty of these things for so long…had made herself content with them for so long…that the slim possibility of bearing a living child for him—while Mirri Maz Durr’s impossible prophecy echoed in her ears—caused Daenerys to snap shut upon herself like a timid creature in a shell. It was a misguided try at protection. It was not her nature, for she was blood of the dragon. In fact, she knew she was hurting herself, hurting them. But he was wrong. Her cursed womb was still barren, and was not his burden. Nothing had happened to not make it so.

“Jon, what if…what if there is nothing but pain in store for us? Nothing but grief and blood and smoke?”

He surprised her again, and immediately calmed the tempest.

“Then I will ask you now, of myself.” His sudden smile was brilliant. “Who could love a dragon?” Her wide eyes gave answer enough. He understood her, then. Of the two of them, it was hard to say who had doomed their line more. “Daenerys, even if there is only you and me…then every moment with you is one I will cherish.”

“Even now?” she asked quickly, greedy. That too, she would need to hear again.

“Especially now.”

It was a vow. Even if her bout of illness was a fluke, or if she couldn’t bear a living child, or if they failed to ensure Winter gave way to Spring… They could still be happy. At her stunned silence, he squeezed her once more, then gently pulled away, to trail his hands down her waist and land at her hips. Her softly trembling arms came around his shoulders and she felt utterly safe. Through the lone window, dawn light cut across the floor and landed at their feet. Time slipped away more quickly, as they shuffled to their feet. The fullness of their dancing hearts could not be contained, and so they touched foreheads, swaying in the incandescent beam.

“It is something to think on, while we are separated. I will wait for your answer,” he murmured, then smiled again when she kissed his cheek as a prelude, lips lingering on his stubble, hands finding purchase on his arms. “This, you should also know before we march. After we left the outlaws in the Ice Cells yesterday, I spoke with Edd. I am not yet certain our men will be safe with the Watch.”

She swallowed thickly. Indeed, his long-standing discomfort was prudent.

“What is this about, Jon?”

His face grew long and sullen, and he worked his mouth - as if holding back a scream brought on by a haunting specter. Peace, her lover had found, yet rest, he had not.

“Me.”

to be continued

If you’ve read this far, thank you. You don’t have to have read the first fic, A Long Way Home, to give an opinion on the prose. The prose in that fic was more succinct. Now my muse is calling me to meander through Dany’s introspection, since there’s extremely personal stuff going on…on the morning of a military march. I worry that the inner monologues drone on for too long. Thoughts?

#books #asoiaf #asoiaf fanfic #jonerys fanfic #jonerys #daenerys targeryan #jon snow #otp: we could live together #my writing #writing stuff #*#this is a draft #I’d like to edit it a few more times #but I need direction #from fellow jonerys lovers #gimme gimme #your thoughts

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iveneverdoneanythingwrong · 1 year ago

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So I have the day off today, and I marked the entirety of it down to watch Red, White, and Royal Blue. This was a good decision as I've had to pause three times and I'm 3 min and 40 seconds into the movie. I just get so

and I have to stop and calm down. So I'm blogging when I have to pause.

Such a fanfic set up - Enemies to Lovers, royalty AU, slow burn, 400k.

I'm at the after-wedding party and the cake is SO BIG I KNOW WHATS COMING I CAAAAAN'T

IT'S LOOMING LIKE ITS READY TO ATTACK

ALEX IS DRUNK ALEX STOP ALEX YOU ARE AT A WORK FUNCTION AAAAALEEEEEEXXXXX

OH NO OH NOOO DRUNK!ALEX HAS SPOTTED HIS NEMESIS HARRY IN FRONT OF THE FERAL CAKE

The cake has chosen a victim. To be fair, Alex attacked it first, so I can't blame the cake…

This is the funniest face, I don't know why but I can't stop laughing at Alex's reaction to icing. You'd think it was cum

THE CAKE HAS ATTAAAAAACKED . Alex FAFOd. RIP Alex.

I love how this whole thing is basically Alex's fault, but the crown prince blames Henry. Family tension, yay!

I also love how Alex is called on the carpet in the oval office and it's ALL WOMEN IN THERE. He's cracking jokes, and they're talking trade negotiations and polling numbers around him.

Zahra is my favorite person ever. GET HIM!

Ok, Alex, sweetheart, honey, you are FIXATED on Henry being 6'2''…. do you have a, shall we say, issue? "Making it was one of the most depressing moments of my career - and I once saw Mitch McConnell eating a banana." Thank you for your service, ma'am.

Smile, boys. I SAID SMILE.

"Alex has very strong opinions. And he shares them. Loudly." 🤣 He's just American, Henry. 🤣🤣🤣 This is our Get-Along-Press Conference.

OK, so my friend who is also watching says her first unbelievable moment was the wedding gown without sleeves. I don't know enough about fashion or royalty to argue, but MY first unbelievable moment is shots fired at a hospital and they're NOT in the US? DOUBT.

Active shooter and Henry is more focused on how Alex smells and why Alex doesn't like him. "Makes sense." "What do you mean by THAT?" "It means you have good taste, Alex."

Oh wow, Henry is showing some emotional intelligence here.

Nevermind, I take it back. Henry! Don't be a douche! Ok, I take it back take it back. Thanks for being vulnerable, Henry.

Fireworks. OK, that makes more sense.

I also love Alex's bodyguard.

"Kill me and I won't have to go." Hey writers, this is more relatable than making him talk about how expensive the cake is. Same, Henry, same.

My god, Alex's eyelashes are insane. Why. Why does he need those? To flirt with men?? Oh wait, yeah, I guess he does.

Oh my god, they actually POINTED OUT HIS EYELASHES. This movie was made for me. Is that guy flirting? Back off, man!

Henry is an amazing texter. I love the way they fit social media into the movie format.

Can I have another two or three hours of them just hanging out and snarking at each other please? kthx.

Alex's NYE party - is this the first time Henry has been underdressed for an event? *gasp* the mutual "oh no he's hot" moment.

aaaand already Henry has been bit by the little green monster. Pugsley. That was fast.

EEEEEE the kiss. Alex is like, I'm not touching I'm not touching I'mnottouchingIswear.

"The first fifty rows of a Gaga concert." 🤣🤣🤣 The women in the movie are On Fire.

"He grabbed my hair in a way that made me understand the difference between rugby and football" WHAT DOES THAT MEAN?????

"He can't ignore me all night. Can he?" Oh honey....

LUNCH BREAK - I started this at 8:30 am, it is now 11:30. I am 37:45 into this movie. 🤣

Why is Miguel coming off as skeezy to me? I want him to go awa-ALEX, your literal prince has ariiiiived.

Henry, sweetheart, you are not fooling anyone.

Damn Alex, *fans self* So... this was the "fade to black" of a sex scene. I mean, I wasn't expecting this movie to be subtle, but c'mon!

Henry: I just don't want you to fall in love with me. Me: How's that clown makeup feel?

Well now I gotta know. How many/which famous men have you shagged. Henry? Henry, COME BACK HERE!

"I'm so not playing this cool right now." Don't worry Alex, you guys are dork4dork.

I KNEW MIGUEL WAS A SCUMBAG

Ugh, Dickbag alert! Ah, jealolus dickbag alert!

Alex!! You've broken Zahra!! Zahra my loooooveee!! Put these boys in their place! That ENTIRE scene was AMAZING. This movie was worth it just for that.

HAHAHAHAH they didn't even get through the whole gag set up "I'm definitely not doing karao-*singing karaoke*

It's taking me forever to get through the floating dock/Alex confession scene. The whole "rope attached to my chest" is real Jane Eyre vibes. Henry, you need to say something. Communication is key, my dude. Or drown yourself, that's valid.

Oh you are NOT just sneaking out. No. I forbid it. Ugh, men.

"What happened in Texas?" "I ended things with Alex" NO YOU FUCKING WELL DIDN'T, YOU DICK.

Of course there's thunder for the big romantic confrontation scene. It has to be raining! For reasons!

oh, that is some grade-A projection there, Henry.

Mr never had a key has a key....

Damn, Alex, you have game.

"When they write the history of my life I want it to include you" Damn, Henry, you have game, too.

Ok, the most unrealistic thing in this movie - these motherfuckers don't move in their sleep??! The covers are always immaculate when they wake up. FAKE. FALSE. THIS DOES NOT HAPPEN.

DOUCHE DOUCHE DOUCHE DOUCHE DOUCHE DOUCHE

Zahra is so done. Go ahead, Zahra, smack him with a pillow again, I know you want to. You've earned it! "mooning over the prince like a cow in labor" 🤣🤣🤣 Marry me, Zahra!!

Stephen Fry playing a homophobe?? He really stretched his acting chops for that. "Take the American with you." Thanks gramps.

Do you think anyone noticed??

Final tally: It took me 5 hours to watch this, not including the hour lunch break.

#red white and royal blue #rwrb #my gifs #my memes #rwrb memes #prince henry rwrb #alex claremont diaz #alex x henry #this got way longer than I thought it would

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gulliblelemon · 2 months ago

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gulliblelemon’s fluffy fics

(You can also find lists here: all, angsty, hurt/comfort, pining)

Happy 18th, Crown Prince Wilhelm (post-canon-div, G, 4.3k) - fluff Canon divergence from end of s2. Outsider's POV of Wille's 18th birthday celebrations if he hadn't stepped down.

What Would I Do Without You? (AU series, T, 37k) - fluff, angst, hurt/comfort How things might have gone differently if Wille and Felice were already best friends before Hillerska. Starts with some (very) fluffy one shots, gets angstier.

See You (Soon) (AU, T, 18k) - fluff, pining Wille didn't go to Hillerska but sees Simon at the jubilee. And does everything in his power to see him again. And again.

Making Music (AU, M, 15k) - fluff, pining A non-royal AU where both Simon and Wilhelm are on a three week intensive music course in the old Hillerska building.

The Last Slice (post-canon, T, 2.9k) - fluff(?) Wille is invited to play video games with The Gang. He has a few things he needs to say.

Unconventional (canon-div, T, 1.8k) - fluff Canon divergence where Wille doesn't step down, a moment where he makes a decision about his future with Simon.

Controversial Clothing Opinions (post-canon, T, 1.3k) - fluff What does Wille think of the infamous plaid pants?

It's Just Us Now (canon, T, 1.8k) - fluff, light angst Wille's internal monologue during movie night s1e2.

Thirteen (AU, T, 4.1k) - fluff Wilhelm is not enjoying his thirteenth birthday. That is until a beautiful boy stumbles across him and invites him to join him and his friends having fun in the palace grounds.

Paper Frogs and Fairy Tales (AU, T, 21k) - fluff, pining Simon works in a bookshop. Wilhelm shows up for a royal book event. Neither of them are particularly pleased with this set up... at first.

Purple (post-canon, G, 1k) - fluff Simon asks why Wille chose purple for his nails. A small post canon conversation, and then a peek into the future.

In The Crowd (AU, T, 7.6k) - fluff Ex-Crown Prince Wilhelm enjoys open mic nights at small, unassuming bars. Simon is an aspiring musician trying his hand at performing.

Intoxicating (post-canon, G, 300) - fluff Simon likes how Wille smells

Dear Diary (canon, T, 1.4k) - fluff Two entries from Simon's diary, one during s1e5, one post canon.

Multicoloured Snapshots (AU, T, 6k) - fluff, pining Linda is getting remarried. Simon approves of her husband-to-be but the wedding preparations he's gotten roped into are a huge hassle. At least the photographer is cute...

Future Favourite Regret (AU, T, 12k) - fluff, pining Simon spots Wille across a crowded room. After spending a night together, they go their separate ways. But apparently the universe thinks they're not done yet.

Anywhere With You (AU, M, 57k) - fluff, angst, hurt/comfort When Simon lands a singing job on a luxury cruise liner, he expects to work for a few months and head back home. What he doesn't expect is to fall in love.

Simon Eriksson Is Not Sick (post-canon, G, 1.3k) - fluff, hurt/comfort Simon Eriksson is not sick. Except he is. Luckily he has the best boyfriend in the world.

Trick or Treat Drabbles (post-canon, G, 1.4k) - fluff, hurt/comfort A series of 14 drabbles written about the first autumn post-canon. Almost completely fluffy.

YR Drabble Week Collection (mix, T, 1k) - fluff, hurt/comfort A series of 10 drabbles. Some AU, some during canon, some post-canon, some canon-divergence.

The Icing On The Cake (AU, T, 12.3k) with @iwouldnevergetintofanfic - fluff Somehow, Wille has managed to end up holding the fort in Felice's cake shop. Of course, the worst case happens and a customer walks in. Not just any customer, though. No, the most beautiful man Wille has ever laid eyes on.

#yr fanfic #young royals #my fics #gulliblelemon

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lululeighsworld · 2 months ago

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writing attacks for FE Art Scuffle's June 2024 event: Part 2!

blossom (387 words) -Though the storms of fate may encroach, in this quiet moment, there is only just the two of them. A vignette depicting Sumeragi/Mikoto's wedding day set before the events of FE14.

someday (2,524 words) -Benevolence, grace, and encouragement. These are the things Azura's young heart holds dearest as she learns to dance amongst the waves. A love letter to the Vallite royal family.

persistence (590 words) -The magic Arete imbues her song with is no longer enough to abate the curse plaguing Nohr's king. There remains one last hope to quell his suffering. Garon/Arete Vampire AU.

dawn's mosaic (2,709 words) -The short holiday that Hoshido's new king and queen planned for themselves will be remembered as the one with never ending surprises. Post-Birthright Ryoma/Scarlet fluff.

service (632 words) -Never let three summoners get their hands on strawberries, ice, and a maid dress. The Crown Prince of Nohr can tell you why. Comedic!

Sleep, my darling, night is falling (1,070 words) -It is late. Corrin is tired. Her baby is crying, she can hear, from the nursery the next room over. Post-Conquest Xander/Corrin navigating the seas of parenthood.

#fe art scuffle #fe artscuffle #fe scuffle #fire emblem fates #fe14 #my writing #fire emblem oc #me and my nice lil collection of pre/during the events of/post fe14 from this year's scuffle <3

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msweebyness · 2 years ago

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Class of Heroes AU: Proposals

I was in a bit of a shippy mood, so here’s a treat that came from that! Here’s some cuteness from when our hero kiddos are grown up! As always, credit to @imsparky2002 and @artzychic27! Leave your thoughts in the comments and reblogs!

Adrigamilukanette:

Who Proposed: Luka

On the anniversary of when he joined the relationship, Luka brought the three of them to the castle and played a song he’d written with three parts, one dedicated to each of them. After that, he told them he couldn’t imagine his life without them, pulling out a box with four matching rings, each with a diamond in one of their favorite colors.

Alyno:

Who Proposed: Nino

On the night that Alya’s restaurant was officially opened to the public, Nino went on stage to make an announcement. Asking Louis to play their special song, he knelt down and asked her to marry him before all of New Orleans and their friends.

Julerose:

Who Proposed: Rose

On the anniversary of when Rose first came to the castle, they were waltzing in the grand ballroom, when Rose had suddenly stopped. With Luka providing the perfect background score, she had knelt to the ground and asked Juleka to be her bride.

Myvan:

Who Proposed: Mylene

It was during a festival in his hometown, where he had always celebrated with Esmeralda and the rest of his ‘sisters’. Mylene planned with the Romani dancers for a special number where she sang and they danced to Ivan’s favorite song, at the end of which she popped the question.

Nathmarc:

Who Proposed: Nathaniel

On their anniversary, Nathaniel took Marc ice-skating on the Arendelle fjord, with the Northern lights lighting the sky. Under the fluctuating colors and the stars, he pulled out an icy blue diamond ring, asking the prince to marry him.

Kimdine:

Who Proposed: Kim

On their anniversary, he had taken her for a ride on Xuppu, where they ended up in her childhood favorite grotto. It was there, with Sebastian providing a beautiful background score, and her sisters on vocals, that he asked her to be his princess forever.

Mireore:

Who Proposed: Aurore

It was the night that Mireille had been crowned Queen of the Pride Lands, and everyone was celebrating on and around Pride Rock, when Sabrina suddenly directed the lioness to look up. There, glittering in the stars(a favor Aurore called in from some friends), were the words, ‘Mireille, will you take me as your queen?’. And when she looked back, Aurore was on her knee in front of her.

Simise:

Who Proposed: Simon

At a kingdoms-wide video game convention, Denise was being honored for their contributions and activism. After they had given their speech, the audience suddenly began to completely lose it, yelling for them to turn around. They did, only to see a 8-bit message on the large projection screen: ‘Denise, will you marry me?’ When they turned back around, Simon was there, down on one knee.

Zosette:

Who Proposed: Cosette

4-Town was having a reunion concert, when Cosette announced they would be debuting a new single, which they dedicated to its beloved girlfriend. In the midst of the song, she brought Zoé onstage, and when the last note hit, they were on one knee in front of her, holding up a beautiful ring.

Jeastin:

Who Proposed: Jean

How else would he do it but the most dramatic way possible? On Austin’s 22nd birthday, Jean organized a massive musical number, with all of their friends participating, that ended with him kneeling in front of his boyfriend with a ring box.

#miraculous ladybug #class of heroes #disney au #mlb ocs #fluff #ships #flash forward

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holdmytesseract · 10 months ago

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moodboard by @chennqingg <3 | divider by @jiyaxedits <3

Through The Years

Jotun!King!Loki Laufeyson x fem!Æsir!Queen!Reader

Summary: This story takes you and Loki on a journey through the twins life. From their first steps all the way to their first time falling in love.

Warnings for this Chapter: bit angst? sad/slightly desperate Loki, drama, yelling? fluff

Word Count: 3k

a/n: This chapter is a very important one, I'd say. After all, we are going to find out who is going to be the heir to the throne! 👀

Also, I thought I post this today, because it's Tomathy's birthday! 🥳🥰

Tags: @eleniblue @muddyorbsblr @mochie85 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @jaidenhawke @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @multifandom-worlds @huntedmusicgardenn @lokiforever @captain-camille @lokisgoodgirl @smolvenger @hisredheadedgoddess28 @glitchquake @chennqingg @icytrickster17 @princess-ofthe-pages @crimson25 @buttercupcookies-blog @elegantcheesecakecrown @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @loz-3 @herdetectivetheorist @simping-for-marvel @km-ffluv @stupidthoughtsinwriting @jennyggggrrr @lady-rose-moon @salvinaa @lovingchoices14 @irishhappiness @sheris532 @princessdragon23 @xxannyxx

❄️ Chapter Three ❄️ Chapter Five ❄️

Ice Flower AU Masterlist ❄ Loki Masterlist ❄ Masterlist

Chapter Four - The Crown Prince

"What bothers you, my king?" You asked your husband in a soft, hushed voice - not to startle him. He was standing on the big balcony of your shared chambers, gazing into distance. Loki and the landscape to his feet were bathed in bright, soft blue moonlight; illuminating the dark. Summers on Jotunheim were beautiful, you learned. Some might would not expect this, but it was true. It wasn't super warm though, unlike on Asgard. Warm enough to grow crops and such, but that was it. Certainly not warm enough to run around naked - at least for you. While Loki stood there in nothing but his sleep loincloth, you were tightly wrapped up in your Asgardian dressing gown - plus some warm fur slippers. The nights were colder anyway.

"Is it what I think it is?" You questioned him further; now wrapping your hands around his strong torso; hugging him from behind. "The announcement?" You felt how Loki took a deep breath and sighed, "Yes, my queen." before he put his big hands on your smaller ones. "I... I am afraid I made the wrong decision and..." You ran your thumb in a caressing manner over the bulging muscles of his abs. "And?" He swallowed. "I never wanted to choose. I knew from the moment they were born that I had to one day, but... I never wanted to carry this burden. Why cannot decide someone else? The people? Or our advisors?" You sighed as well, knowing how bad he felt. "I know, my love, I know, but... Unfortunately, it's the king's decision. It always was; always will be." He scoffed, clearly affected by all this. "I remember that day... Clearly. Father chose Thor. Being the first born was to his advantage, but... Nevertheless, Odin would've chosen my brother. He believed he was the better king. Wiser. More mature. I accepted it - and in the end, I'm glad he didn't choose me. Because if he had, who knows if our paths ever crossed? I doubt it." The king squeezed your hands gently; loving - bathing in your embrace. "Well, I am glad, too, love. I am lucky to call you my queen now - and wife. I wouldn't want any other princess. Just you. Always you..." He muttered, pausing. "But this is different... Our boys are twins. No first born. No one of them has an advantage. By the norns, I wouldn't even want that... We always treated them equally - how it should be and now... Now I am forced to favour one of them. As a father, this is cruel."

Your heart broke at his words. You knew very well how he must feel. It wasn't fair - but that was a burden of being alive... Sometimes it was just not fair. "I know, my love, I know," you whispered and pressed a lingering kiss on the soft skin of his bare back. "I find this just as cruel as you do. Parents shouldn't have to ever put one child over the others and it's just not fair, but... Life unfortunately isn't fair..." You spoke the words on your mind, but stopped to press another reassuring kiss on his skin. "You need to remind yourself that this is a decision you make as a king. Not as a father." You could hear your husband swallowing again, before he turned in your embrace and lowered his upper body, in order to press his forehead against yours. "Should I mirror your words in front of them? Tell Áki and Váli that I'd never make this decision as a father, but have to as a king?" You nodded. "Yes. I think it would be important for them to know." Another deep sigh left your husband's lips. "I hope they'll understand... I don't know what to do if they don't."

You loosened your grip around his torso and lifted your hands to cup his cheeks; giving Loki a soft smile. "They'll understand. I know they will." The king nodded, squeezed his eyes shut and held you even closer. You let him, of course, enjoyed the tight embrace you were in.

"Let's go to bed, my king, shall we?" "Yes." You led Loki back to your marital bed then, sunk together with him in the sheets and held him close. It was just what he needed that night. The undying, unshakeable love and support of his wife.

Nevertheless, didn't have Loki a restful night. He tossed and turned from time to time; thoughts running wild inside his head. That was the reason why he was up quite early; watching the sun rise over Jotunheim.

You woke up with the sun as well; sleepy eyes searching for your husband. "Loki?" "Over here, my love." Your eyes followed his voice. He was sitting on the settee in front of the empty fireplace; gaze settled on you. "Good morning, darling." You smiled sleepy; stretching your limbs. "Good morning." You could feel his beautiful ruby eyes on you; watching you with an overwhelming amount of love and gentleness. But when your gaze met his, you could also see how troubled he was. Still. Your expression softened. "C'mere, my love." Reaching out your hand towards him, you waited for him to take it.

It only took him a few seconds to bridge the distance between the settee and bed; eagerly taking your hand into his and intertwining your fingers. You pulled him gently closer, until his legs hit the edge of the bed and he had no other choice but to lean down. With a soft, loving smile, you caught his lips with yours; kissing him lazily. Loki's eyes fluttered shut; heart beating faster. He'd never get tired of kissing you. Never.

"Have you decided yet?" Your sweet voice urged to his ears; pulling the king down on the harsh reality. Perhaps he got lost in your eyes for a few moments... With a deep sigh he nodded, "I have, yes." and told you this important decision.

"What do you think of it? Do I... Do I make the right choice, my queen?" Loki was so uncertain and troubled. You'd even go as far and say that he was afraid. So, you tried your best to comfort him. Just like you did last night. "I'd say you do, yes." You said honestly, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze. "He'll make a great further king. I am convinced by that."

Mere hours later, the king of Jotunheim was in his throne room, sitting upon his throne. His leg bounced nervously up and down; he definitely felt the burden of the upcoming event on his shoulders, weighing him down. Like hypnotized, he stared on the big doors, waiting for them to open - which they did only a few minutes later, revealing two guards and his twin sons. The guards let them in, took a bow and closed the doors again, leaving the three men alone.

"You wanted to see us, dad?" Áki was the first one to talk; being definitely the braver twin. Puberty changed the young men, of course, but not their characters. Áki was brave and talkative, while Váli was shyer and more reserved. Not that Váli didn't have braveness within him, but not as much as his brother.

Loki nodded, took a deep breath. "How to begin with?" He muttered to himself, before standing up and stepped closer to his sons. "I have to talk with you both about something important. But not here. Let's take a walk, shall we?" Said and done. Father and sons left the palace only minutes later. "Do we have to be afraid of what you need to tell us?" Váli asked, eyeing Loki with a slightly worried gaze. "No, it's... It's..." The king took another breath. "You are now 20 years old. You've grown into big, strong and wise men - without a doubt. And I couldn't be prouder of you. I really am - and so is your mother." The twin brothers exchanged a sceptical look. Not that they never heard those words from their father before, no - quite the opposite, but... Something in Loki's voice was different. Áki and Váli could tell. "You learned so much in all those years. About Jotunheim, about your heritage, about how to act as princes - and you're doing it to perfection." Loki paused. "It is time for me to make a decision. I avoided it for a long time; tried to escape it, but... I can't do it much longer. Our people, the advisors - yes, the whole kingdom expects from me to finally decide. And I have. I had to."

Váli frowned at his father, while Áki already had a guess. "What is this all about, dad?" Loki sighed. "The throne. My successor." Váli was definitely more surprised than his brother. "T-The throne? You are telling us who the crown prince is going to be?" "Exactly, my son." Áki just nodded. "We're ready for it. I am ready for it." Loki smiled at his sons. "I know you both are. I just don't know if I am ready. Well, I guess I'll never be - but that doesn't matter." The king swallowed hard. "But before I am going to tell you this, I want you both to know that it wasn't an easy decision for me. I thought long about this. Mostly even at night. I want you to know, that I made this decision as a king - not as a father. I never would. My love for you is equally strong. It always was and it always will be. I love you more than life itself, my sons." Áki smiled, just like his brother. "We love you, too." Váli agreed. "We do - and we know that you'd never favour one of us above the other as a father, but have to as a king."

Those words meant a lot to Loki; helping to ease his fear and worries a bit. He stopped and turned to place a hand on a shoulder of each twin. "This means a lot to me. I'm glad you understand. Now that that's settled..." Loki swallowed hard. "Váli, Áki... Each of you is perfectly qualified for the throne, but... I'd like you to be the future king of Asgard, Váli." The young man's eyes widened. He absolutely hadn't seen that coming. He always had expected his brother to be the future king. Áki was stronger, braver - a warrior and a true Jotun, while Váli was... Just himself. A bit dreamy, quiet and had his nose always buried in a book. Despite that, he looked like his mother - an Æsir. Not Jotun. Was that really what his father wanted? What the people wanted?

"W-What? M-Me?" Loki nodded. "Yes, you, Váli." "B-But... Why?" The king smiled softly. "Because you are smart, wise and kind. You always make the right decisions. You are well-read and know how to rule." Váli was literally speechless. His lips moved, but now words left his mouth. "And I am not?!" The angry, clearly jealous voice of Áki cut through the air. Loki quickly redirected his attention, looked his other son in the eyes. "I never said that, Áki. You are smart and wise. You have a lot of kindness in you as well, but-" "But what?!" The furious prince literally spat. "You're a bit hot-headed. You have so much passion and energy flowing through your veins. You, my son, are the greatest warrior I have ever seen. Even greater than I am - which is why I believe, that it would be better for you to defend our home. Make sure it's safe. I want you to stand at your brother's side as his first advisor and leader of our army."

Unlike his brother, Áki rather had expected to be crowned future king. He always found himself perfect for this. Worthy of becoming a king. He didn't want to be jealous of his brother. He really didn't, because he loved Váli dearly. But the heat of the moment and his slightly hot-headed nature blinded him.

Áki answered nothing to his father's almost desperate try to explanation. He just scoffed and stormed off, leaving a distraught Loki behind. This certainly didn't go as planned. That was exactly what Loki always wanted to prevent... What he was fleeing from...

It was already quite late, when Loki decided to approach his son again, in order to talk to him. The king knew, that he couldn't spend the night in peace without having talked to Áki. You told Loki to give him some space, which he understood - but he couldn't wait any longer. He had to talk to him. So, Loki went to his chambers, but found them empty. Áki wasn't there. It didn't stop the king, though. He had a guess, knew exactly where he would most likely find the prince. While Váli preferred to escape into the secret room in the library, whenever he needs to be alone, his brother fled to the training grounds. That's where Loki went next - and he was successful. Áki was there, letting out all his anger and frustration on a Jotun sized target. His sword beat down on it, over and over again; abusing the wooden surface and causing it to splinter. Loki took a deep breath, feeling his nerves again.

"Son..." Áki immediately stopped at the sound of his father's voice. Breathing heavily, with his chest rising and falling quickly, he turned around to face Loki. "What do you want?" "I want to talk with you." Áki released a breathless, derisive chuckle. "Didn't we already talk enough?" Another deep sigh left Loki's lips; desperation crawling up in him once again. "Please, Áki. I know this frustrates you, but-" "No!" The young prince cuts him off. "I don't understand your motives, father! We both know I'd be the better king!" Áki insisted; fury ruby eyes meeting his father's identical ones. "I never denied that! I know you'd be a great king!" "Then why I won't get to be king?!" Loki inhaled sharply and closed his eyes for a moment. "Because of your temper and hot-headed nature. Those aren't exceptionally bad characteristics - and you know that, but-" "But what?!" The prince spat. "Let me finish my sentence, young man, and you'll hear!" Loki had a short fuse sometimes as well. Like father, like son... Áki clapped his mouth shut at Loki's small outburst and took a submissive step back; turned into a little boy again within seconds. "A-Apologies, father." Loki gave him an intense look and crossed his arms over his chest. "I believe that you can use those... abilities of yours way better in being the leader of our army. You fit perfectly in this role. You were always destined to be a warrior. Just like I am. Just like your mother was." The king's anger deflagrated quickly again, when he saw the hurt and sorrowful look in his son's eyes. A little boy once again, indeed.

Loki sighed and stepped closer to his son; placed a hand on his bare shoulder. "Look, I... That is exactly what I always wanted to prevent. What I always was afraid of - since yours and your brother's birth. I knew I had to choose someday - and it scared me to death. Because of that. Because I had to disappoint one of you. I am sorry, son. I truly am. I... I hoped I would be able to compensate your loss of the throne with the position as the leader of our warriors and first advisor, ruling at your brother's side and supporting him like nobody else could..." Loki swallowed, "But I'm afraid, I failed." and shook his head. "But my decision stands. My offer stands." He sighed. "Again, I am truly sorry, Áki. I hope that one day you can wrap your head around this and forgive me - and perhaps accept my gift for you. You can be angry. You have every right to be angry, but please... Don't blame your brother for this. Don't let him feel your wrath." With those words Loki let go of Áki and stepped back in order to leave. "And please... Don't let me lose my son. I couldn't bear it." The king knew when he lost - and that was the case, so he turned around and walked away.

What he didn't expect, though, was Áki's voice, holding him back. "Dad, wait!" He almost yelled, before adding in a quiet voice: "Please..." Loki stopped dead in his tracks. "I... I didn't mean to react the way I did. I shouldn't have reacted that way. It was... inappropriate." Loki swallowed and turned around slowly to face Áki again. "You're right. I have a temper... And I am hot-headed as well. It took over. I got lost in the heat of the moment. I should be grateful for what you're giving me... Not angry." Loki's words hit the young prince; cleared his foggy brain. He could see straight again. "If anyone should be sorry, it's me. Please forgive me, dad." Áki lowered his head in shame and regret.

The king couldn't believe his ears. His son's opinion changed within seconds. His heart skipped undeniably a beat; hoping for an immediate reconciliation with his son.

Loki stepped closer again - and once more found his hand the young warrior's shoulder. This gesture caused him to lift his head again; looking straight in his father's eyes. All Loki could see now in those pools of red was regret and pure honesty. He smiled softly. "Apology accepted." Áki's eyes widened. "W-What? Really?" Loki nodded. "Yes. Like I said... You had every right to be angry. I often acted the same way when I was your age." "Really?" "Really." "S-So... You're forgiving me?" Another smile grazed Loki's cerulean lips. "Of course, son. You're forgiven - but... Apologise to your brother as well. He's blaming himself already the whole day... He even thought about refusing the throne, handing it over to you and learning to fight...." Áki's eyes widened. "By the norns... Of course, I am going to apologise!"

#the ice flower au #jotun!loki #jotun loki #jotun loki x reader #jotun loki x you #jotun loki smut #loki x reader #loki laufeyson #loki #loki x female reader #loki x you #loki fanfiction #tom hiddleston x reader #loki fluff #loki x y/n #loki laufeyson x reader

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