#snow white was just waiting around for a prince | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

painted-flag · 4 months ago

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Snow White and the Seven Bandits - Jacaerys Velaryon.

Story I of Between the Pages: a HOTD x fairytale series.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ series masterlist here. main blog masterlist here. .𖥔 ݁ ˖ pairing: jacaerys velaryon x reader .𖥔 ݁ ˖ warnings: depictions of violence and use of poison. .𖥔 ݁ ˖ word count: 11.4k .𖥔 ݁ ˖ note: this is a long one. the others in the series will be the same, perhaps even longer for a few, so would you be interested in me dividing them into parts for the future or just keep them as one text around 10k and release at once?

“It is imperative that you both exhibit the best of manners,” The voice of the kingdom's Queen, Rhaenyra Targaryen, carried throughout the carriage. The wheelhouse held her, Jacaerys, and Lucerys. The youngest, Joffrey, had stayed in Kings Landing with their father Harwin - as he is the prince regent and can act in Rhaenyra’s stead. The carriage rocked as it made its way down a country road.

“Mother, we are always on our best behaviour,” Jacaerys responded, though it seemed his attention was somewhere else in pure boredom. Lucerys, who had been sitting across from him, sent a look of doubt his way.

“Be that as it may, the Lady of Stonehill is… sensitive. The Lord of Stonehill lost his previous wife on the birthing bed. A few years after marrying a new wife, he passed. His daughter followed him in death a month afterwards. So please, do not bring up any subjects around Lady Alicent that may offend her. It may have happened years ago, but those scars do not fade.” Rhaenyra pressed the importance of their behaviour for their visit to Castle Stonehill.

“Yes, mother.” Lucerys gave her a wide smile, the candied lemons he was snacking on made his cheeks puff out.

Rhaenyra leaned to the side to enter Jace’s field of vision as he stared out of one of the wheelhouse windows. She raised her brow and waited for an answer.

Jace broke out of his trance and smiled at his mom, though it did not reach his eyes, “Yes, we will be on our best behaviour.”

⋅───⊱༺ 🍎 ༻⊰───⋅

The afternoon sun shone down on the walled-in garden of Castle Stonehill. The white quartzite with streaks of gray reflected the sunlight, casting glittered specks of light across the garden. Songbirds chirped as they flew from tree to tree. The abundance of foliage covered every open area in green. The types of flowers present filled all of the colours of a rainbow and butterflies flew from patch to patch to suck the nectar from the plants.

It was an area of peace and safety which you frequented often when not working. After the arduous hours of work throughout the morning, you relished the break of rest you got in the afternoon. They were spent in the garden, tending to the flowers that grew there. It was the only place in the castle that your stepmother, Alicent, never touched.

Your birth had caused your mother to pass, leaving you with your father. He was a kind and gentle man, who often spent more time with you than he should have given his lordly duties. He did all he could to raise you on his own. His gentle voice and demeanour rarely fit his appearance, for the man looked strong enough to snap a log over his thigh. Many years after the loss of his wife, he married again. The woman, Alicent, had presented herself as nothing but a dutiful and godfearing wife - a trick most wicked. While your father had lived, she treated you with kindness. It was a veiled sweetness that covered up the foul taste beneath; jealousy, want, and animosity.

Never was there a facade more barbarous than a woman who cut another woman down.

Upon the death of the Lord of Stonehill, Alicent’s cloaked contempt compounded. The inheritance of the castle would pass to you once you came of age, an outcome most ardently rejected by Alicent. She spared your life under the guise of benevolence, should you fake your death and take up a job as a scullery maid in the castle. It was merciful, in your stepmother’s words, to keep you alive. However, the pain of losing your father and your previous life stung the heart that lay in your chest. A torture disguised as mercy.

Through the years your resolution did not sway. There was a resilience in your kindness, both inwards and outwards, that you displayed to the world daily. What had angered you at first became nothing but a small sting. There are worse fates that people could meet.

The day had been ordinary, inexplicably so. You found yourself in your usual routine, picking flowers and singing in your few moments of daily rest. The knife in your hand cut the stems of some of the flowers and you placed them in a wicker basket on the ground next to you. Upon turning your gaze to one of the hedges, you saw that it appeared down, as though lacking water. You put down the knife and walked over to a well placed at the centre of the garden.

Your voice continued to carry a tune as you pulled on a rope to lower a bucket down. As you went about your way, your voice carried over the walls and into the courtyard next to the garden.

Now, Jacaerys had not wished to go for a walk, but quickly upon their arrival at the castle he and Luke were sent away. The adults were talking, and therefore the youth must let them be. A total disgrace, in Jace’s mind, as he was set to become king and therefore felt he should be included. Alas, the stern gaze of his mother had led to him walking aimlessly in a courtyard with his brother and hoping that the day could finish.

Jace was walking with Luke beside him and the younger brother had not stopped talking. He was explaining his thoughts on everything they had seen during their trip, waving his hands around to emphasize certain points. Jace nodded along to his observations. It was during a particular rant about the knights of the castle's armour that Jace heard a voice in the distance. The tune carried over the gentle wind, gracing his ear in sweet pleasantry.

“Do you hear that?” Jace interrupted Luke’s rant.

Luke halted, “What?”

“That voice… it sounds like singing.” Jace did not wait for any response before he picked up his pace, marching across the courtyard. He followed the wall to his right until the voice got louder.

“What in the seven hells are you doing?” Luke had been confused by his brother's actions. The whole trip he had been unusually bored, often unfocused and inattentive. Now, it seemed that life was breathed into him again.

“Don’t you hear that?” Jace looked at the thick growing vines on the wall, rapt by the singing.

“Someone is singing, does it matter?” Luke responded, “We should go back to mother.”

“In a moment,” Jace spoke. He stepped forward and grabbed onto one of the vines. His gaze swept across the wall as if he was unsure of his movements. Deciding not to question it, Jace tugged on the vine to test its strength. Upon finding the results he wanted, he began to climb.

When Jaceaerys reached the top, he took in the sight. It was a flower garden. Despite the countless different flowers all mixed around, it looked organized and well-maintained. The singing that he heard came from a woman by a well. She was fetching water and dressed like all the maids, in rags made of cloth. However, Jace was not a blind man and could clearly see how beautiful she was. He paused for a moment and debated on whether or not he should disturb her. His mother taught him better, that a proper man should have manners and not disturb a lady. However, there was an enchanting allure from her.

“Well,” Luke began, “What do you see?” At that point, Lucerys had become intrigued by his brother's actions.

“She’s beautiful,” Jace muttered. Luke was unable to hear his brother's response and watched as Jace moved to climb down the other side. He stood there, agape at his brother's impulsive nature - a trait he knew he would never get used to.

“What an idiot.” He muttered.

You were oblivious to the pitfalls of steps coming from the other side of the well; too lost in your song to care. You were pulling the bucket of water up and had it settle on the edge when an unknown voice broke you from your daydream.

“Hello.” It was not a very deep voice, but the timbre notes were warm, like the sun's rays on a hot day.

“Seven Hells!” You shout in fear, the pail of water falling back down the well when the rope in your hands is dropped. The man in front of you rushed to the well wall on the other side.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.” He assured.

You looked back and forth across the garden, scared that Alicent would be looking in. She did not like it when you talked to servants, and you had no idea how angry she would be if she found out you were talking to the prince.

“I am fine,” You did not wish to prolong this conversation any longer than it had to be, so you hoped a curt response would be a hint for him to leave.

“I’m Jacaerys Velaryon,” The man spoke, “Who are you?”

You froze at his words. He was the prince. Oh gods, you had just rudely tried to dismiss the prince. There was a moment of rushed thinking, wondering how you could get yourself out of this situation. There was no shame in running, perhaps. Maybe wish for the ground to open up and swallow you whole.

“Nice to meet you, my prince,” You bowed lowly and kept your gaze lowered to the stone on the ground, “I am simply a maid.” Your hands smoothed over the scratchy fabric of your gown, inwardly cringing at how underdressed you were in front of him.

“Yes, but what is your name?” Jacaerys stepped around the well to be closer. He was dressed like a prince. Rich, finely woven fabric of dark blue matched the silver embroidered embellishments on the ends of his sleeves, around his collar, and down the front of his surcoat. The garments themselves were sure to be made by a multitude of servants, a look of divinity next to the one-colour floor-length dress you wore, which was accompanied by a light beige apron stained slightly from the dirt of cleaning and tending to the garden.

“I must go, my prince.” You grabbed the sides of your dress and held them out as you moved down in a short curtsey. He looked confused at your insistent need to be away from him, something you were sure he was not used to considering his status. You turned and began your way to a servant's entrance at the side of the castle.

“Wait! I’m sorry if I scared you, truly,” Jace spoke up and positioned himself in front of you, “Please, I just wish to talk.” He looked as though he wanted to reach out but refrained from doing so. There was a certain glint in his eyes that was unrecognizable. You were used to the way men would threaten you with their gaze, an unsaid selfish want, but Jace did not have that look. It was something kind, an emotion you had not been on the receiving end for many years.

“There is nothing a servant can say, my prince.” You curtseyed again - a signal of a final dismissal - and moved to the small oak door. The heavy metal of the hand felt cool under your grasp. You yanked it open and closed it behind you. The transition from the warm sun-soaked outside to the cold and damp servants' hallway gave a temporary shock to your body.

Back in the garden, Jace stood defeated. He felt horrible for scaring a woman - something his mother would sharply scold him on if she ever found out, of which Harwin would sure to join. That was not how you were raised… to corner a woman like that, what were you thinking?

At a window far up on the castle, Lady Alicent stood looking out, having watched their meeting transpire.

He retreated to the wall he had scaled and grasped the vines in his hand. Lugging himself up, he returned to the top of the wall to his brother standing on the other side. Lucerys was close to going for help because of how long his brother was gone.

“What in the seven hells was your reasoning for that? Mother told us to be on our best behaviour, yet here you are scaling the walls of Lady Alicent’s castle!” Lucerys scolded as Jace dropped down next to him.

Jace adjusted his clothing as he huffed to catch his breath from the drop, “You should have seen her, Luke.”

“Seen who?” Luke had his arms crossed and a look of vexation moved across his face.

“The lady in the garden.A servant. I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone like that.” Jace looked sort of dazed.

“So�� you saw some random servant?” Luke said.

“I’m telling you, there was something about her… she did not act like one.” Jace marched along the courtyard path and to the nearest entrance to the castle. Luke followed closely behind.

“All the servants here look the same. Rags and all.” Luke dismissed his brother's whims.

“Rags cannot hide her gentle face.” Jacaerys’ tone left little room for further resistance from his brother.

⋅───⊱༺ 🍎༻⊰───⋅

You sat in your room and skillfully embroidered a patch of fabric. The wooden loop was clutched between the fingers of your left hand as the right held the needle. It was a patch of vines being woven, like the ones the prince climbed to get into the garden. It had only been a day since your encounter with Jacaerys Velaryon, yet the memory clung to your mind and refused to let go. He was kind, uncharacteristically so compared to the people you have met in your life.

The sudden opening of the door to your small chambers had you rushing to get up. The sewing fell from your lap and to the floor. You were frustrated by the sudden disturbance but swallowed it once seeing who was at your door.

“Lady Alicent,” You bowed to your stepmother and watched as she stood in the doorframe of your room. Her judging eyes moved around the small space, cluttered with books and other belongings - the few you were allowed to keep. A look of disgust twinged at the corner of her mouth. She stepped into the room, her emerald gown glimmering in the small streak of light from the tiny window placed well above viewing height. Your room was ultimately like a cage but disguised as a servant's quarter.

“You have done well with your chores as of late,” Alicent began, “Good work should be met with rewards, I am generous that way.” Her words were short and snippy like it burdened her to even speak to you.

“Thank you, my lady.” You bit back the array of insults boiling within.

“Ser Erryk will escort you to the woods, where you can pick wildflowers. Perhaps there may be new ones you can add to your garden.” Despite the kindness of her words, the tone dripped with false sincerity.

“You are very kind, lady Alicent.” While there was an unsettling nature to her gaze, you were excited to go out in the woods beyond the castle. Since your father's death, you had been kept secluded in the castle walls, unable to even venture into some of the halls.

“Yes, well, you best get ready then,” Alicent muttered before vacating the room as quickly as she could. The door was open still and a guard stood where she once was.

“Good morrow, my lady,” Ser Erryk was perhaps the only guard in the castle who clued in on your identity. He was only a young man when your father died and his memory of your face stayed with him. When you were allowed to leave your room many years after your staged death to pose as a scullery maid, he instantly clocked into your true identity. He kept it a secret, for fear of what Alicent would do to him if she found out that he knew.

“Hello, Ser Erryk. Let me just get my basket.”

⋅───⊱༺ 🍎༻⊰───⋅

You hummed away as you tended to the wildflowers on a hill. You were taken on a carriage ride deep in the woods. It had been the most excitement you ever had, for the feeling of freedom rippled through your body. Ser Erryk stood by the carriage a few feet away, watching as you went about digging up dirt and roots of pretty colours you have yet to add to your collection.

A shadow loomed over where you sat, and your head turned to see Ser Erryk had gotten closer. He stood above you with his sword raised in the air. You did not have it in you to scream, for a wave of hopelessness crashed over your body. A sense of betrayal seeped into your bones. One of the only men who had yet to treat you with antagonism or lecherousness had hidden their evil deep below the surface.

Ser Erryk’s arms had stopped with the sword raised. They shook ever so slightly in his frozen position. His face was twisted, pain and uncertainty carved across the skin. He stumbled back and threw the sword to the ground, curses flung from his mouth. His breathing was laboured and his chest rose up and down.

“Run.” His gravelly voice hitched slightly.

You paused, unsure of his display of goodwill, “What?”

“I am sorry I ever tried, my lady. Alicent has my brother… she said she would kill him. Go, run far from here.” Ser Erryk spoke.

“And your brother?” You questioned.

“I will think of something,” He responded. He reached to his side and pulled out a long dagger, holding it out to her, “Take this and go, my lady.”

You got up on shaky legs and slowly grasped the hand of the dagger. It felt awkward in your hand. There was never a point in your life where you ever held something sharp besides a kitchen knife or sewing needle. It was heavy and unnatural.

“Thank you, Ser Erryk. I will never forget this.” You nodded to him. You turned to the woods, looking into the looming dark depths. The fear you had felt towards him had now moved to the woods. The dark trunks stood like knights on the ground, their looming presence instilling dread. Whatever nocturnal beasts lurked within the murky bowels of the forest suddenly seemed less frightful than the beast that would be waiting should you return to the castle.

Death in the woods felt more merciful than whatever Alicent would do to you.

Steeling your emotions, you surged forward. Your jogged movements quickly picked up to a steady pace. You leapt over each root and bush in your way. There was no path you followed, only faith to guide you from this terror. The trees surrounding you morphed into figures like monsters. The winding branches twisted around and appeared as hands reaching out to grab her.

Your feet carried you beyond the winding hills and scattered foliage. Tears stung at your cheeks as the cool wind dried the saltwater on your face. What felt like hours, but had only been a single one, passed as you stumbled over a branch and fell. The choked gasps of your sobbing echoed in the forest. You were hunched over and crying.

When you pulled back to sit on the ground, you looked up and spotted a decrepit cottage in the distance. You had happened across an open space in the forest. A stream cut through and there was a small shoddy built bridge over the water and a path leading to the cottage. It was a plaster and wood building with a thatched roof. A single chimney was seen going from the bottom of one of the sides to the top of the roof. It appeared to be two storeys high.

You approached cautiously, wondering who may be around.

“Hello?” You called out and then waited, but no reply came, “Is anyone there?” There was no response. You moved to one of the windows and saw it covered in dust, you tried to wipe it away, but it only smudged. The cottage had been left a long time ago. Your hand reached for the nob and turned. Surprisingly, the door opened.

You peered in to see the state of disarray inside. What little furniture could be seen was covered in a layer of dust. When you moved inside the cottage, the dust made you cough violently.

“Oh, this place is dreadful.” You mutter. There was a broom placed beside the fireplace, also covered in dust. You picked it up and shook the dust off, with only one thought in your mind. This is going to be a nightmare to clean.

You had spent the next few hours cleaning the cottage from top to bottom. Countless tasks were completed as time went on. While it was exhausting, it felt like a piece of freedom. Here, you were cleaning because you wished to and for yourself, not to the demands of Alicent and any of her friends.

Earlier, in the upstairs area of the cottage - which was more of a loft space - you found seven beds placed beside one another. It filled you with sadness. At one point in time, this cottage had been full of a loving family, something you had little experience with. You could not help but wonder what could have happened to them.

You finished the last of your tasks and sighed loudly. Your hands rested on your hips as you scanned around the open living space. It looked like an entirely new place as if you tore down the old cottage and built a new one. Your exhaustion was something never felt before. The events of the day finally came down on you; the early morning picking wildflowers, Ser Erryk sparing your life, the run through the woods, and lastly your cleaning of the cottage. The beds upstairs in the lofts seemed comfier than ever. You pranced up the stairs and plopped on one of them. The soup stewing over the fireplace could be left unattended for a good long while, so with that worry out of your mind, you drifted off to sleep.

⋅───⊱༺ 🍎༻⊰───⋅

It was in the deep stage of your sleep that the door downstairs opened up. A figure stood in the doorway with their sword raised high and scanned the room. Once they entered, six other figures followed behind.

“The whole place is… clean.” One of them spoke in a sleepy voice.

“I thank you for your astute observation, genius.” The one in front wielding the sword grumbled, his grumpy countenance exacerbated by his lack of patience. His free hand moved up to adjust the eyepatch on his face. The group moved as one. They surveyed the ground floor and found nothing except the almost extinguished fire and a cast iron pot strung over it.

One of the men reached forward and pulled the lid off, exposing the wonderful smell of stew. It simmered just barely. Before they could inspect it further, the man sneezed loudly and dropped the lid back on the pot. The clattering sound emanated around the room.

They all hunched slightly, ready to attack, but nothing came. The one who sneezed rubbed the back of his head in embarrassment. They migrated to the wooden stairs and one by one made their way up the steps. Upon reaching the lofted area, a figure underneath the covers of one of the beds was spotted.

“What the fuck?” The grumpy one spoke in a hushed whisper. He separated himself from the group and approached the bed cautiously. He adjusted the sword in his grasp. Once he stood at the foot of the bed, he reached out with his sword and nudged the covers. The figure shifted.

Your state of unconsciousness began to wear off. The exhaustion you had felt earlier depleted. A yawn left your mouth as you moved to sit up in the bed. The covers fell to your waist and you stretched out your arms. After stretching your arms, your hands rubbed the sleep from your eyes. Blinking a couple of times to clear your bleary vision, you opened them to see a man at the foot of the bed with a sword pointing at you. Six men stood behind, all with varying faces of curiousness to skepticism.

There was only one reaction that seemed fitting, which was to scream. When you did, the six men standing at the top of the stairs screamed as well. The one with the sword, who had silver hair and an eyepatch over his left eye, groaned with frustration.

“Who are you?” He demanded.

Before you could answer, a man behind him spoke up, “Stop pointing your sword at a bloody woman!” The man had a bashful expression on his face.

“We don’t know her, Addam.” He responded to his friend and turned back to face you, “What are you doing in our house?”

“I… I thought it was abandoned.” You responded. Shock still froze your body. It seemed as though wherever you would run, men would always follow.

One of the men laughed at her words. He looked to be old, with silver hair and a beard. “Well, you’re not wrong about that assumption.” The man stepped forward and to the man with the eyepatch, grabbing the sword from his hands and placing it on the floor, “I apologize for scaring you. My name is Viserys, but most people call me Happy.”

“Happy?” You questioned.

“They are our cover names,” Happy answered, “My friend with the patch here is Aemond, but he goes by Grumpy.”

“Not willingly,” Aemond complained.

You mulled over their names in your head and thought on it for a moment. For some odd reason, the names felt familiar. They settled at the back of your mind, poking at your consciousness. A heartbeat passed before it struck you. The two names and the fact that there were seven of them in total.

“As… as in the seven bandits?” You gulped a bit of air after you spoke.

“You’re corre-” The man who spoke up sneezed abruptly, “Correct. I am Laenor, but my nickname is, well, Sneezy.”

“Let us just all reveal ourselves. Might as well just tell her all of our secrets while we are at it.” Aemond crossed his arms and stared her down. He looked at her as though she was a threat; some hidden weapon made to kill them.

“You suck the joy out of everything, Grumps.” Another man stepped forward and nodded to you, “I’m Aegon.”

“Dopey,” Aemond added on.

Aegon glared at him and crossed his arms, “At least I’m not a killjoy.” Aemond squared his shoulders and stood chest to chest with Aegon, domineering over his frame.

“Well maybe if you were smart for once-”

“That's enough.” Viserys spoke and placed himself between them, “Both of you can leave if you won’t get along. Stop crowding around the poor girl.” They backed off and joined the other men a few feet away.

“I’m sorry, truly. The place appeared empty and I thought that I could stay for a while. I will leave.” You push the covers from your body and maneuver off of the bed.

Viserys raised his hands in a peaceful motion, “Please, do not feel rushed. If I may ask, who are you and why are you here?”

⋅───⊱༺ 🍎༻⊰───⋅

Over the seven jewelled hills and beyond the seven falls, you happened upon a home of seven bandits a half year ago. Upon revealing your true identity, they had taken you in - much to the chagrin of Grumpy. However, you provided the skills learned as a maid to contribute to the house and were allowed to stay permanently. After a few weeks of asking, the men had begun to train you in the ways of the sword.

You were beyond skilled at it, having nicked yourself and a few of the others many times over. It was a learning curve you gradually got over, though you had a long way to go. Despite all your learning, you have yet to join them on their missions. Happy assured you that your talent with the sword was enough, but truly did not feel good to have a woman join them, for he was worried about your safety.

It was in this group of misfits that you found a family. While Grumpy was still not too keen on your presence, the others welcomed you relatively quickly. You got to know them all on a personal level and truly understand how fitting their cover names were. Aemond fit the Grumpy name. Viserys was always happy, Aegon consistently had a dopey look on his face, while Laenor sneezed near constantly. Addam had the nickname Bashful. He always blushed when you were around and got incredibly flustered when spoken to, but he was very loyal to his friends. Harrold, another one of the older men, was called Sleepy; something he proved nearly daily because if he was not training, he would be found anywhere around the cottage taking a nap. Corlys, or Doc, seemed to take up an almost leader-like role; even though they all worked together as a collective team.

Doc and Happy built you your own room in the cottage. There was a lot of open area on the downstairs level, so they picked a corner and set up walls for your privacy. That was a month after you agreed to stay permanently, and it felt like the final moment in truly becoming family.

It was the early hours of the morning. You were making breakfast with the help of Dopey. While he was not the brightest, he followed directions well and seemed just pleased to help. The two of you were working diligently. He went to set the table as the others started to wake. They made their way down like clockwork, each settling down in their designated seats.

When everyone sat and had a plate of food in front of them, Happy spoke, “We think it is time for you to join us on a mission.” His gaze was directed at you. You lowered your fork and tilted your head.

“Really? I can come?” You held back the excitement that brewed within.

“A short raid, you will stay back and only interfere if necessary. It is just so you can watch.” Happy reiterated, but you were already smiling widely.

“Thank you!” You shot out of your seat and walked to his, wrapping your arms around him in a hug and kissing his forehead. Happy turned a shade of bright red.

“Yes, well, don’t expect to do much,” Grumpy spoke up, “These rich folks always hire terrible guards. There won’t be a need for you to fight.” You walked back to your seat and rolled your eyes.

“Rich folk aren’t always bad.” You tried to defend.

“Like that prince you met?” Bashful asked. You groaned internally. A few months prior you let slip of your encounter with the prince and the kindness he showed, regardless of the rudeness you shoved his way. Since then, the men have teased you about him.

“Not that. I am rich… well… I haven’t been for a long time.”

“Once a rich girl, always a rich girl,” Grumpy mumbled.

The morning was spent preparing for some scout work on one of the main roads. The group would wait for a carriage to pass, one that was obviously belonging to a rich person, and they would rob them. Half of the earnings would be distributed to one of the nearby towns, while the other half would go to supporting themselves.

You now find yourself halfway up a tree that lined the main road through the forest. All of the other men were scattered among other trees, each within view of one another but not from any on the ground. Multiple people had passed, but all appeared to be townsfolk. It was after a few hours that a carriage began to pass. The wood had been carved delicately and embellished with gold. It was beyond a doubt that the person was rich. The only thing that threw her off was the amount of guards on horses surrounding it.

There had to be no less than twenty men and you were unsure how your friends would handle this. You had never seen them in action before. They all shared looks and communicated through bird calls. You were still learning the meanings of the calls, but one immediately got your attention. It was the call for an attack.

You watched as your friends descended from their hiding spots in the branches of the trees. They fell like lightning on the soldiers. Upon a closer look, you recognized the armour of the guards and almost gasped. They are royal guards.

A figure emerged from the carriage with a sword in hand and prepared to fight. You immediately recognized who it was. There was no way you could forget the face of Jacaerys Velaryon. His unruly dark curls fell to his sharp jawline. His stature revealed how strong his form was. The sword in his grasp caught the light.

You had to intervene. His soldiers were exceptionally trained and you could not leave your friends unaided. You swung from the rope that helped suspend you. Landing on the ground a few feet from Jace, you were intercepted by a guard. Your sword had only ever been used for practice combat, not a skilled soldier. You unsheathed it and blocked the guard's attack.

The two of you went back and forth. Each time you struck he blocked it, with the same happening to his strikes. He pulled you in and turned your back to his chest. Just as he brought his sword up to plunge into your neck, you elbowed his face and kicked his groin. Once the guard was on his knees and more on your level, you used the hilt of your sword and swung at his helmet, effectively knocking him out.

When his body fell to the ground, you looked up to see Jace standing there, having watched the whole thing.

“It’s you!” He spoke. The two of you stood still, each grasping your weapons and unsure how to proceed. You did not wait to respond and swung first. He stepped back and dodged.

“You’re that maid!” Jacaerys never swung at you but rather deflected your hits. The two of you were engaged in some kind of dance.

“I’m her,” You responded. Your strikes got harder and Jace pushed back a few times.

“I don’t want to fight you. Call off these men and we can go our separate ways.” Jace tried to reason.

You wanted to do that, but knew it was not possible with your friends, “No can do, my prince.”

The two of you were so focused on the fight, that you failed to notice one of the guards throw a dagger your way. It lodged itself into your shoulder and you cried out in pain, stumbling in your spot. It was then that Dopey called out your name. You watched as realization swept over Jace’s face. He quickly processed the words.

“Wait, Lady Stonehill? You’re supposed to be dead!” Jace recognized the name as the lady who was said to have passed a mere short months after her father years ago. The name was unique and he pierced it together with you also having been at Castle Stonehill.

Dopey came up on the back of a horse he stole from a guard. He leaned down to lift your injured self onto the horse. Your stomach lay on the saddle behind him. You and Jace had yet to stop looking at one another. There was an underlying force to look at him that would not yield. You wanted to stay, to make sure nothing would happen to him, but it seemed with your injury your group decided to retreat after seizing everything of value. The point was not to kill, that was something that had been emphasized in your training.

It was always reiterated that the jobs are a swift robbery of goods and nothing else. With that goal achieved, you repositioned yourself on the saddle and wrapped your arms around Dopeys waist. All of the others had clambered to other horses and swiftly fled down the road. The horse you were on followed. You looked back over your shoulder to see the other guards recovering and Jace staring you down. He did not look angry, but rather confused. You hoped he could forgive you.

⋅───⊱༺ 🍎༻⊰───⋅

“I humbly apologize for the raid while on your travel here, my prince.” The words of Lady Alicent rang out through the great hall of Castle Stonehill. “Those miscreants have targeted these parts for years, it is time my men put a stop to it.”

Jacaerys had arrived at Castle Stonehill for a momentary visit to discuss taxes for the Crown, but the interception on his travel seemed to be the only topic of focus. None of his men were gravely injured, but he had lost a few pouches of gold and jewels.

“Thank you for your kind words, Lady Alicent,” He paused for a moment, “May we speak in private?” Jace asked.

Alicent waved off her guards and the hall cleared, “What is it you wish to speak about, my prince?”

“I mean no offence, but there seems to be no other way to inform you of this. Lady Alicent, I believe your stepdaughter is alive.” Jace informed. Alicent’s face shifted from curiosity to something bordering on indignation and distaste. She blinked rapidly.

“What, um, what makes you say such a thing?” Alicent’s hands placed themselves on her stomach in an attempt to keep herself calm. Jace interpreted her actions as reminiscing of grief.

“The visit I made with my mother months ago, well I ran into this girl who I thought was a maid. When the raiders attacked my travel company, she was there as well. One of them called out her name and well, I believe it is your stepdaughter. She matches the description as well. Maybe-”

“I am sorry, Prince Jacaerys, but I cannot hear anymore. My stepdaughter is dead, that is final.” Alicent stood firm on her words.

Jace nods, “Yes, I understand. I am sorry for the distress I have caused.” He nodded to Alicent before making a hasty exit from the great hall. He kept thinking back to his encounter with the woman. He finally, after months of thinking about her after their encounter in the garden, had a name to match her face.

⋅───⊱༺ 🍎༻⊰───⋅

You shifted uncomfortably to try and grab a broom propped in the living space. The bandages on your shoulder moved and you hissed in pain at the sharp feeling hitting you. In the days following your injury in the raid, none of the men had let you lift a single finger. While months ago that would have been a horrible thing for the chores, you had whipped them into shape and they were able to clean properly. However, you still wished to contribute to the house.

The group marched down the stairs with weapons in their arms. They were going on another raid, as the last few days they opted out so they could watch over you. You stood by the door and opened it for them. One by one, you hugged them goodbye on their way out, giving each a kiss on the cheek for all the help they had given you. The last one, Grumpy, stood in front of you with his arms crossed.

“You don’t have to worry, I won’t hug you.” You joked.

Grumpy tilted his head to the side and hummed, “What I said about rich women that day… you’re one of us, not them.” It was the closest thing to an apology you would ever get from him, to be sure. Instead of acknowledging his apology, which would surely elicit a huff of annoyance from him, you chose another option.

You move forward and wrap him in a gentle hug. His body went stiff, unfamiliar with such kindness. One of his hands went up to put your shoulder awkwardly. After a moment he huffed as a signal to let go. You backed off and flashed him a smile.

“You secretly care for me, I know it.”

He moved out the door and began to walk away, “Whatever makes you feel better.”

You closed the door and looked back at the empty cottage. Making your way to the kitchen area, you decide that you should get started on making food for them when they get back. With your injury, it was bound to take longer than usual, so the sooner the better.

Hours passed of you prepping pies with one arm. The other would sting in pain each time you tried to use it, so it would be best to get used to your current predicament in hopes it would speed up the healing process. While rolling out the dough, a knock sounded on your door. You stopped your movements and backed from the table. When you walked to the door, you reached for a long knife placed beside it.

You opened the door while clutching the weapon behind your back. A man stood in a hooded cape. He carried a cane in one hand and a basket in the other. His leg appeared to be in some bandage, but something about it did not look like a temporary injury.

“Forgive me, sweet girl, but I seem to have lost my way.” The man smiled, “My name is Larys. Could you help me find the right path to the local market?”

“Oh, I can help you with that,” You notice the man looked bleary and most likely dehydrated, “Come inside and rest for a while, I can get you something to drink.” You ushered him into the cottage and to a seat while stealthily placing the weapon back in its hidden place. Once you served him a cup of water he thanked you immensely for the help.

“No need to thank me, sir. Kindness always goes a long way.” You sat across from him at the table.

“I have nothing to repay you.” The man muttered.

“Oh, you don’t have to.” You spoke.

He lifted the lid of his basket that was on the table, “Here, at least take one of these apples. I grow them back home.” He reached in and pulled out an apple. It was the most deep shade of red and covered in a shiny gleam. His hand held it out to you and you decided to pick it up. Holding it in your hand you inspected it.

“Well, I was starting to get hungry. Thank you, sir.” You took a bite of the apple and relished the taste. Some juice dribbled down your chin and you wiped it away. “Oh, you’re low on water. I’ll get you some more.”

Just as you get out of your seat, your body swayed oddly. Tingles made their way across your limbs and the edges of your vision dimmed. You stepped forward but stopped when your sight blacked out for a moment. It felt like you were losing control of your body. A sick feeling developed in your stomach. The apple fell from your hand. The sound it made when hitting the floor was muffled as if you were underwater. Your knees buckled under your weight and you felt yourself falling to the floor. Before you even made it there, your vision went black.

⋅───⊱༺ 🍎༻⊰───⋅

The band of men strolled merrily down the path to their home. It had been a successful day and they had just given half their share to one of the nearby villages. They joked with one another. Sneezy held Dopey in a headlock and began to mess up his hair, much to Dopey’s protest and Grumpy’s amused smile.

Doc went to open the door and noticed it was unlocked and slightly ajar. He raised his hand to signal the men to be quiet. They all hushed up and saw what Doc spotted. All of them pulled out their weapons. When Doc opened the door, they funnelled in. The cottage appeared empty. Grumpy took charge and moved in further, but dropped his sword in shock upon reaching the other side of the dining table.

The other men rushed to him and had similar reactions. Your body was on the floor, collapsed and unresponsive. Doc rushed forward and flipped you onto your back. He placed his hands below your nose but felt no air. He fell back from his crouched position as grief struck him.

“She… she’s not breathing.” His voice came out in a helpless whisper. While the words were light, their meaning felt like iron chains on the men. They all stood around her body, both shocked and driven to hopelessness. Grumpy moved first, his eye having caught something peculiar. He reached down under the table and came back with an apple in his hand. A single bite had been taken out of it.

After a moment, Grumpy spoke, “It was Alicent.”

“We don’t know that for sure-” Doc began but had been caught off.

“Seven hells, even I know it was her doing,” Dopey chimed in.

Grumpy placed the apple down and marched upstairs. They followed him to see him rummaging through one of their large chests. Second after second he pulled out varying types of weapons and placed them methodically on the ground.

“What are you doing?” Happy questioned.

At first, he did not respond, not until everything from the chest laid out on display, “We are going to Castle Stonehenge and we are killing her for this.”

“Grumpy, we don’t kill.” Bashful interjected. Some of them shifted in their stances.

“So Alicent gets away with it?” Grumpy raised his voice, “We stick up for our own, and she was one of us.”

Dopey crouched down and picked up a longsword, “I’m with you.”

Grumpy looked at all the others with the hope they would join in. One by one they assembled their own collection of weapons. She may be dead, but there was no way they would let her memory die with her. Now, more than ever, they would fight stronger than they have in the past. Only one mission was left in mind, to avenge her death and spread her story - so that she would never be forgotten.

⋅───⊱༺ 🍎༻⊰───⋅

It started as a warmth building in your stomach. It spread throughout your body further, and the more it did the more that heat increased. It clawed its way through your veins, burning the capillaries and tearing through your muscles to burn the bone beneath. Your lungs worked in opposition, for every breath you took seemed to only increase that cursed fever that took hold. It was in your ceaseless torture that dreams spread forth; wicked and wild.

Taunts of your lost childhood flickered on the backs of your eyelids. What-could-have-been’s propositioned like a devil's deal of a promised future, staked on the trade of your soul in exchange. Given the chance, you may have been persuaded to pray for such a deal. Your father's voice rang through your mind, but it was so faint and muffled you could not make out the words. Truthfully, to the regret and pain of every fibre of your being, you had forgotten his face and voice over time; even more so your mother.

It was cruel, beyond any punishment that could have been warranted for transgressions in your past lives. Surely, the gods could be cruel, but to be so minacious in their plan for you bordered them on the side of the cursed souls in the seven hells. Perspiration covered your body as it fought off the fever. No amount of ice in the world could aid your affliction. Your mind fought for control, or really for any semblance of consciousness beyond that of the haze plaguing your mind.

You could feel the thrashing of your body and the hands holding you down. They felt cold in comparison to the heat of your skin and you welcomed it. A voice, as foggy as the meadow outside your cottage and refreshing as the dew on grass in the morning, spoke through your haze. It was familiar, but you could not place its origins.

“Come back to us, my lady.”

The depths of the boiling ocean you were swimming in gave rise to creatures below. Faces of evil men in your past voyaged through those depths, like sharks surrounding prey. However, the most fear you felt was in the memories of your stepmother, Alicent. Her cruel sneer and wicked tongue that always seemed to be ready to fire a quip of the most vile of insults coated in a thin veil of sugar; sweetness afflicted with poison, her greatest weapon.

Time was an illusion. Seconds, minutes, hours, days, and weeks made no sense in your haze. For all you knew years could have passed suspended in this torture. It would not surprise you. But just as quickly as hopelessness seated itself in your soul, the heat was doused in water and you felt yourself clear again. Your muscles ached and your head pounded, but the relief of no longer being under such a curse took priority.

Your eyes blinked open and struggled to see through your blurry vision. When you managed to get a hold of your sight, the roof of a canopy bed was all you could see. The engraved wood was familiar. It took many minutes to get up, but once you were sat in the plush bed you recognized where you were.

Your childhood bedchamber appeared to have gone through no change at all since your father's death. You could not even remember the last time you were in this room, having been cast out and forbidden to go in. Perhaps you were dead and this was your afterlife. You had no idea if it was heaven or hell. The happiness of being in this room was undercut by the pain you felt for what could have been.

It was then that your memories came like an opened floodgate. The man you helped and the sudden feeling of blacking out. The apple… it had to have been the apple. You understood that it must be a plot construed by Alicent. Your placement in the room was not a gift, but one last taunt she made before killing you for good. You’d be damned if you went out without a fight now that you’ve learned well enough from your found family.

You scrambled out of bed and searched around the room, looking for anything that could be of service. In a drawer in a random dresser, you found a sewing collection with some shears. This will have to do.

You positioned yourself on the side of the door that would be covered when open and waited with bated breath. Shuffled footsteps sounded from outside and you prepared to strike. The door creaked open and the person walked in. You surged forward with your hand preparing to plunge the knife into them, but a hand caught your wrist with the shears.

“It would be regrettable to stab me, for killing the crown prince is the most heinous of crimes. I would hate for you to meet such a sudden end on your twice emergence from the dead.” The voice of Jacaerys Velaryon shook you from your adrenaline-filled mind. You dropped the shears.

“Prince Jacaerys?” He released your wrist from his grip and took a step back to give you space.

“It’s a relief to see you awake, my lady,” Jace spoke.

You swayed in your spot, the fear your body ran off of ebbed away, “What…” You stumbled forward and Jace moved quickly to catch you. One of his hands wrapped around your waist while the other supported your back.

“You should still be abed,” He uttered. Jace guided you back to the bed and helped you sit down. Your back rested against the headboard. The prince grabbed a nearby chair and moved it to the side of the bed you sat on and settled on it.

“I am sure you have… many questions.”

You huffed, “That may be the biggest understatement of the century.”

“You got me there,” Jace smiled gently, “Your, uh, friends stationed themselves outside the room and wouldn’t leave while you rested. There would never be more than two gone at a time. They’re staying in the room across from yours, I can wake them up so they can speak with you.”

He made a move to get out of his chair, but you interrupted, “Wait, no. Let them rest. How long have I been out?”

Jace hesitated before answering, “Two weeks.” You gaped at the answer, but he continued, “Honestly, no one was sure you would wake.”

You looked down at the blanket strew across your lap and traced your fingers over the delicately sewn design of vines. Two weeks of missed time, suspended in that state of burning pain. You blinked back the tears that pooled in your eyes and cleared your throat.

“Forgive me for my language, my prince, but what in the Seven Hell’s happened?”

Jace rested his hands on his thighs and leaned back, conveying his openness, “To be honest, my lady, I am not entirely sure. It was a shock. I was having dinner with Alicent when your… friends descended. I still have no clue how they got past both the castle and my own guards. They were a fury to be sure. Hurling such accusations at Alicent.”

You wanted to speak, but violent coughing raked through your throat and had you seize for a moment. Jace got out of his seat and reached for a cup that was placed on the bedside table. He poured the water into the glass and held it out for you. When you went to reach for the cup, Jace grabbed your hand and moved it back down to the covers. He brought it to your lips and tilted it so you could drink. Once you had a sip, he pulled back and waited if you wished for more. You shook your head, muttering a thank you, and he put it back on the table before settling in the chair again.

Jace continued, “They claimed Alicent faked your death to take your inheritance. That you had been ultimately killed by her with poison. I must admit, I did not believe them at first. But, a knight, Ser Erryk corroborated their story. Only then did Alicent fumble under the pressure, her story of innocence did not match up and began to crumble under scrutiny.”

You were in a state of shock. Never, in any dream or wish, could you have ever thought of Alicent being seen as the true person she was. That her crimes would be revealed.

“I had her arrested.” Jace’s words had rung in your head. The picture of Alicent in a cell came to mind, and the relief in that image could not be measured. Perhaps, finally, you may be out of reach from her conniving talons.

“I… How am I still alive?” You questioned.

Jace cleared his throat, “Well, I sharply questioned her for information regarding the poison. The castle healer knew of an antidote, but we were unsure if it would work, given how long it took to get to you. I am glad it did.” The corners of his lips turned up slightly.

“I need to see her.” You spoke.

“Absolutely not, I cannot allow that, my lady.” Jace shook his head.

“I have a right to see her. I am the lady of this castle, am I not?” You retorted. Your eyebrow rose in challenge and Jace nodded.

“You could barely stand for a few moments. When you are strong enough, I will personally take you to her. And yes, you are the lady of this castle so for you and your people, you must rest.” He emphasized the final three words, pausing after each.

The finality in his tone had you lean backwards and close your eyes. The pounding in your head had yet to cease, but it had eased. You pinched the bridge of your nose and began to breathe in and out.

“I sent word to my mother. She is coming to oversee Lady Alicent’s trial.” Jace lowered his voice, “Ser Erryk has physical evidence of a box meant for your heart. He was sent to carve it out of you… Um, another man was found, the one who gave you that apple. He is locked up and will be put on trial with Alicent.”

That day when Ser Erryk helped you felt like years ago. You were a different person then. Naive enough to believe Alicent would do something kind for you for once. While it had been the lowest point of your life, without it you would not be who you are now. A changed woman, with a true family and purpose.

“I wish to see my family now.” You whispered. Despite the conversation sucking all your strength, you wanted to see your friends. Jace stood up and nodded. He did not say anything further, in case he would stress you more than you were at that moment. His hand gripped the door handle and he opened it. Jace turned back around to you and looked as though he wanted to say something but refrained. His figure went through the door and closed it, leaving you to stew in the overwhelming amount of information you were fed.

⋅───⊱༺ 🍎༻⊰───⋅

The following week waiting for the arrival of Queen Rhaenyra was spent recovering. The shoulder wound you had sustained in the raid against Jace and his men had almost healed. Your body had fought off the last of the poison days ago, but everyone around you still treated you like glass. It had begun to grind down on your nerves.

Visiting Alicent had been a decision you turned against. There was nothing you wished to say to her and nothing she could ever say to you that would be worth your time. It would only ever throw you into more distress. Your new family settled into castle life surprisingly well, a fact you often teased them about. However, they still showed some form of distrust towards Jacaerys.

The prince had become a close friend in the short time spent together. He would visit you often in your chambers as you recovered. When you were cleared to walk, he would escort you around the caste. In his words, he accompanied you in the event that you collapsed, but you knew he did not have to as there were plenty of guards that could have done the job.

Despite the closeness between you two, some of your friends - mainly Grumpy - were still put off by him. Grumpy had approached you at one point to question Jace’s intentions, a conversation that made your cheeks flush and heart race. After clarifying that Jace was just being a gentleman, Grumpy acquiesced his hostility to the prince but still watched him with a piercing gaze when he went near you.

It was not just Grumpy that had become more protective over you. All of the men had heightened awareness of every little thing that happened in Castle Stonehill. There was rarely a moment when no less than two were by your side. They went so far as to have you dismiss your night guards and take shifts outside your door. When meals were made for you, Doc and Happy would watch over the cooks in the kitchen.

It was an unspoken fear they had; of the possibility of Alicent getting someone to come for you. You knew that so long as she was alive in a cell they would continue to act like this. Jace often joked about you having your own mini army, or legion of defenders that safeguarded your every waking moment. You would laugh if it was amusing. At first, their actions were endearing, but now they felt more stifling as of late.

When Queen Rhaenyra arrived, you were surprised by the soft warmth she brought to whatever room she occupied. She was strong-willed and an excellent conversationalist. Her kindness was refreshing, and you could see the resemblance in personality between her and Jace. Though, you were able to note he must carry more of King Harwin’s looks than his mother. A small piece of yourself was jealous whenever you would watch Jace and Rhaenyra spend time together. They were close, and you yearned for what kind of relationship you could have had with your mother.

A part of you wondered, had Alicent not been as vain, if you and her could have been close.

You were in your chemise and struggled to change the bandages on your shoulder. Regret for having dismissed the doctor washed over you. You were standing in your room, with your head tilted to look at the stitched wound. The door abruptly opened. You looked up to see Jace had walked in. Upon seeing your state of near undress, he let out a surprised yelp and turned his back to you. The sound of his startled voice made you laugh.

“I am so sorry, my lady. I do not know what I was thinking to not knock like that- oh, my mother will be furious. Again, I express my deepest condolences. This-” Jace began to frantically apologise.

You began to laugh harder, finding this situation amusing.. Had it happened to you months ago, you would have been mortified. Now, it does not bother you. Especially since it was him who happened to walk in.

“It is alright, Jacaerys. I know you meant nothing nefarious.” The two of you had common ground. When away from the listening ears of court, you could ignore propriety in referring to one another by your titles. It pleased a part of you to hear him address you by name rather than Lady Stonehill.

He still kept his back to you, “I will, um, come back later.”

“Could you…” You debated if you should ask, given that it was not entirely appropriate, “Could you help me?” Jace turned around to face you, but kept his gaze in line with your face. He coughed to clear his throat. A vibrant red flush spread from his cheeks to his neck.

“Yeah, uh, of course.” He moved forward hesitantly. The table next to you had a silver tray with some ointment and wraps. He cleaned off his hands in the bowl of water beside it and took some of the ointment. Standing next to you, the height difference was apparent. His chin when looking down only reached the top of your head. Jace’s breath was calm as he applied the ointment to the stitched area on your shoulder.

You had cursed yourself inwardly for asking him to do this. Your brain only seemed to focus on his calloused fingertips gently applying the cool ointment. Your mind ran wild and you closed your eyes in an attempt to calm your mind. He methodically wrapped up your shoulder. When he finished, his hands lingered on the skin around the wrap.

You coughed subtly to get his attention. Jace blinked and backed away, moving his gaze to the floor as he rubbed the back of his neck.

“Thank you, Jace.” You were unaware of the effect it had on him to use his nickname rather than his full name. You moved behind a room divider for some privacy and began to put on the other layers of your clothing.

“Are you… okay? With everything going on.” Jace spoked to you from the other side of the wood divider. Today was the day of Alient’s execution. You had ruminated on it for countless hours during the last few days.

“I thought that maybe I would feel bad about her death… I truly feel nothing but relief. I guess Sir Erryk never needed to cut out my heart, there seems to not be one.” You shuffled your dress over your head and adjusted the ties on your back, having perfected the routine by having to do it yourself for many years.

“You have every right to feel that way about her execution. Everything she has done to you… you have a heart, I hope you know that.” Jace reassured. You walked out from behind the divider to look straight at him.

“And you’ve suddenly become an expert in matters of the heart?” You raised a brow with challenge as you teased him. However, Jace did not seem as though he was joking.

His gaze held an intensity you could not decipher, “Yes, recently so.”

You ceased your jesting face and came to understand the gravity of his words. It was not a surprise, for this was something the two of you had been blatantly ignoring as of late. The two of you failed to evade one another. It was an invisible force that pulled you together. Jace took one step forward and there was only a few inches from you.

“Jace, I…” You sucked in a breath.

“You don’t have to say anything, I will not make you feel forced to. Nor do I wish for you to feel compelled to reciprocate what I feel. But, I know you have noticed it. I only ask for consideration.” Jace’s eyes held nothing but sincerity. He looked down at you and the closeness felt more intimate than anything you have experienced in your life.

“I feel insane even saying it,” Jace clarified, “It has happened so quickly, feeling this kind of love, but I would not have it any other way.”

You were finally able to respond, “I will be honest with you. I don’t know if I love you, Jace, I hardly know you. We have spent a lot of time together and I know there is something there, something I do wish to pursue. Why don’t we start by continuing to get to know one another?”

Jace nodded desperately at your words as if he clung to every syllable. You reached out to rest your hands on his chest because of how close he was. When you did not push him away, Jace took that as a positive sign and moved his arms to wrap loosely around you with his hands resting on your back. He moved his face closer but stopped just short of yours. He waited for a sign of approval from you. When you gestured with your head in approval, Jace leaned forward and connected your lips.

In that moment, everything around you ceased to be a reality. It was a promise of protection and devotion given by Jace. His lips were warm and soft, a reflection of his personality. His nose pressed into your cheek. The two of you moved in sync with one another. Normally, you are hyper-aware of all of your senses, but with him, they all seemed to fade away. All you could focus on was him; his arms around you, his lips on yours, and the feeling of desire coursing through you.

Jace pulled back enough to rest his forehead on yours. Both of you inhaled deeply to catch your breath. Upon opening your eyes, you saw that Jace was already staring at you. He held a dazzling smirk on his face.

“I hope I do not disappoint you.” He spoke.

You decided to tease him a little, “I don’t think it could be as disappointing as that kiss you gave me.”

Jace feigned a look of hurt, but it was tinged with a smile. “Oh, so that is how this will be?”

“Of course, my prince. I will always have the upper hand.” You giggled. Jace moved his hands from your back to wrap around your waist and pulled you flush against him. The feelings that action elicited from you were all too new and addicting. The closeness of your bodies set your veins alight. This was something you would have no shame in getting used to.

“Well then, my lady, I shall rise to the occasion.” Jace leaned back in to kiss you.

_____________

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ note: that was part 1 of Between the Pages! i am super excited to start off this series, as I had developed plans for this back in 2022. there were entire storyboards planned, but i never got to writing them. thank you for all the support <3

if you want to be added to any of my taglists, click here.

𖥔 ݁ ˖ taglist: @uniquecutie-puffs @dracaryxzs @beebeechaos @libdarkheart @whodis? @void21

#jacaerys velaryon imagine #jacaerys velaryon x reader #jacaerys velaryon #jacaerys x reader #jacaerys velaryon x you #hotd fanfiction #hotd imagine #house of the dragon #house of the dragon imagine #house of the dragon fanfiction #fairy tale retelling #house velaryon #house targaryen #fire and blood

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lowkeyrobin · 3 months ago

Note

Hello! I was wondering if you could write a James Hook x Reader. She’s Hans’ daughter but her relationship with him is complicated. Since he couldn’t become king he wants the reader to marry a prince so she can be a queen in the future. She tells him no prince would ever fall for her bc she’s a VK to get him to stop pressuring her. But the truth is she doesn’t even want to marry a prince bc she likes James.

Although she’s Hans’ daughter she’s friends with Bridget and Ella bc she’s nothing like her father personality wise and doesn’t want to be ever. Which is why James became intrigued with her and flirts. She’s always standing up for Bridget.

Anyway at the end Hans somehow finds out what’s going on between reader and James. Later at night he confronts the reader about it stating that she will marry a prince. But she finally stands up for herself. You can decide what he says but then he leaves and she breaks down but James comforts her bc he heard everything. You can decide the rest.

Sorry this is long thank you in advance!

oooo okay okay I can try! ; just so yk I only do gn / they/them readers but I usually keep gender pretty ambiguous lol ; thanks for requesting, hope you enjoy! ; also this gives pink pony club and I need someone to agree cause I feel crazy for thinking it ??? ; update on that I listened to ppc and it's now heavily influenced on that last part

JAMES HOOK ; complicated

summary ; a vk who acts like an ak catches his attention, fascinating him

warnings ; language, use of gorgeous but in a gn way who cares about societal norms

word count ; 1.5k

masterlist

"That boy, uh... Prince Charming, at your school, why not marry him?"

"Oh my fucking Christ, Dad" You groan. "One, I'm a VK, two, he doesn't like me, nor do I like him, three, stop with this conversation"

"What about that Snow White girl?"

You grumble, stomping away to your room to get away from your self projecting father. Every day for the past God-knows-how-long he'd keep bringing up you marrying into a royal family. Just because he lost a girl by being a douchebag apparently meant he had to project his insecurities on you.

You weren't like him at all, nor did you ever want to be. He was a complete asshat from what he's told you, thinking he was always in the right. You were a VK gone soft, or a VK with morals and a good heart, whatever floats your boat.

Your best friends Bridget and Ella were AK's who'd welcomed you into the good side with open arms. They were quiet and sort of shy, too scared to stand up for themselves. But that's why they had you, because being born as a villain kid meant you could be mean, you could use your voice to get what you wanted, or at least try.

"Go away, Hook. Leave her alone." you call, walking up on James and Maleficent picking on Bridget and her bright pink flower themed cake.

"Or what?" He questions, leaning away from Bridget, turning to you as you stand in front of her. "Gonna walk the plank for me?"

You roll your eyes. "Are you looking for a fight? What do you guys get out of doing this?"

He shrugs deviously. "Entertainment, darling."

"Go away," you order, "Unless you really wanna put your Captain title at risk." You turn around, pulling Bridget away from the duo.

"Confident, are you?" He laughs. "Wait and see, gorgeous," he turns around, pulling his partner along.

Maleficent hisses, watching as you and Bridget walk away.

"What's with you and that fake VK?" she asks him.

James shrugs.

"Well, hello again, darling"

"Don't you ever go away?"

"You've got a mouth for an Auradon Kid, don't you?" He chuckles. "Wait... you're not an Auradon Kid. You're a VK."

You roll your eyes. "Just cause I was conceived by a villain doesn't mean I am a villain"

He sighs. "Whatever helps you sleep at night."

You turn around, seeing him still standing over you. Can't a person get five minutes alone in the library?

"What do you want?"

He shrugs. "Wanted to ask why you've joined the good side. You're always defending those girls. It's weird"

"How is having morals weird?" you ask. "Genuinley. Sit"

He glances around with furrowed brows before joining you, taking a seat beside you. He sits sideways to face you, resting his hooked hand on the table.

"What makes you think harassing people is fun?"

He shrugs. "It's funny, entertaining."

"Sadly, I can't control your actions." you speak with a light sigh, turning back to your book.

"Why do you defend them?" He asks rather swiftly.

"Because they're my friends?" you reply.

He tilts his head. "You're fascinating"

You groan. "I'm a normal, not evil person"

"And I'm not?"

"No, you're a bitch"

"Hello, love"

"Piss off"

"You should be nicer to me. After all..."

"Close your damn mouth. There is nothing going on between us"

Bridget and Ella, wide-eyed, turn to you.

You exhale through your nose, slowly closing your eyes to find yourself and to not freak out. You look at them, a kind smile on your face.

"There is nothing going on between us" you repeat.

"I'd beg to differ..." James mumbles while Morgie giggles.

You turn to the girls. "Go to class, I'll be there in a minute"

They nod, walking to the classroom just down the hall.

You cross your arms, waiting for James to speak. Morgie stands beside him before he's shoo'd away, making the conversation private.

James smiles, pulling a sandwich bag out of his coat. Inside rests three slightly crumbled cookies that he'd made just for you. He holds them out to you, a cautious and slightly concerned look on his face.

"Sorry your dad's been... y'know"

You shrug, accepting the sweet treats. "It's fine, just pisses me off. Thank you, though"

"Anytime, darling"

"You need to stop with that. Someone's gonna catch on that there is actually something going on between us"

"Eh, I'm alright with that"

"See you later, pirate boy"

"Hook you later, love"

You press a chaste kiss to his lips before running up the front steps of your house, opening the door with a small smile on your lips. You close the door behind you, watching through the window as your little love interest walks away.

You walk into the living room, saying hello to your father, backpack slung over your shoulder. "I'm home"

"How was your day?" He asks, flipping the TV to another channel.

Your ears painfully vibrate due to the sound of your father sharpening a knife in his lap. God, he couldn't pick a better time?

"Fine," you wince. "I'll be in my room. I have homework"

You quickly walk away before he can speak anymore, knowing leftover dinner was in the fridge for you to access. Having homework wasn't a lie, but you were definitely lying about doing it.

As darkness fell, and after you'd dropped multiple hours cleaning your room, you opened up your window, allowing the fresh, cool air into the stuffy warm room. You lean against the window sill, awaiting your dumb love, the breeze brushing against your face.

You knew this was wrong, all of it. You'd been having wicked dreams of leaving Auradon, hearing new, distant lands calling your name. You'd never make your father proud. He'll see his baby and scream, 'God, what have you done?' as you wave goodbye on a ship with James, dressed to explore the world.

You had dreams, he had expectations.

You imagined a wide open sea, James Hook at your side, the salty air against your face. It was a daydream, one that could be accomplished. You imagine a whole world to explore, all the things you'd never seen, you'd be able to experience. From waterfalls to exotic animals, you wanted to see it all, you wanted to see all the sunsets and cultural differences. You wanted it all.

"Hey!"

"Hi!"

You watch as Hook climbs up the tree in your front yard, then use your little zipline connected to the roof to enter your room through the window. You grab his hand, pulling him into the refreshed bedroom you called home.

He rests his hands around your waist, his signature smirky-smile upon his face. "I missed you oh-so dearly"

You scoff. "It's been like, five hours"

He pulls you closer, smashing your lips together like this was some romantic romance movie where the two main characters had to leave each other in the end. He shoves you to the bed, allowing you to sit on the mattress as he stands over you, his hook lightly tracing your jawline, his hand resting on the nape of your neck.

Your door flings open, the two of you jumping in fear, eyes glued to the room's entrance. James quickly scrambles out the window, leaving you alone to deal with your father.

"Are you kidding me, Y/n?! First you're kissing a boy outside, then you're sneaking him into my house! For the last time, you'll be marrying into royalty, not sneaking around with some pirate wannabe!" Your father shouts. "I'll be boarding up your window from now on and I'll be taking this damn door away too."

"Just because you have a soft ego and are a narcissistic piece of shit doesn't mean you can force your insecurities on to me!" You yell. "My love life has nothing to do with you at all. I'm not going to be some teenage newlywed so you can ruin a whole kingdom's worth of lives through me. I am not you and I will never be you!"

He's too stunned to speak, surprised that you've talked back, the words leaving your lips like you had them ready to use. You stare into his soul, heavily breathing, fists clenched as you stand in front of him.

You rush to the window as he leaves, slamming the door behind him, not sure how to approach the situation. You slide out the open window, holding back tears.

James quickly wraps you in a hug, allowing you to crumble in his arms.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry" He whispers, holding onto you tightly.

"It's fine" You shake your head with a grumble. "Fuck"

His hand rubs your shoulder.

You sit in silence with him for a few minutes, carefully listening as your father stomps around the house.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, love. Do you need somewhere else to stay?-"

"I'm fine" You reply. "I'll be fine"

He's silent for a moment. "I don't feel comfortable leaving you here"

"He won't hurt me. He's a wimp with an ego." You shrug.

He nods. "Yeah, that's true"

You quickly look up at him, a random thought in your brain. "Have you ever seen a flamingo before? In real life?"

"I've conquered the seven seas, babe. Of course I have"

"Cool"

#lowkeyrobin #gn reader #gender neutral reader #they/them reader #descendants x gn reader #descendants x reader #james hook x reader #hook x reader #joshua colley x reader #descendants rise of red #rise of red x reader

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musaslullaby · 3 months ago

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Disney Dreams

Lando Norris, Carlos Sainz, Charles Leclerc e Oscar Piastri x fem reader.

Summary: The reader simply loves Disney.

Warning: Only fluff and mention of marriage.

Masterlist

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Lando Norris

He couldn't stop you from watching movies every night anymore. Ever since he had agreed to watch your favorite Disney movie, you hadn’t stopped showing him more and more. You started with "Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs" and were completely determined to make him watch all of them in chronological order.

Lando loved seeing you repeat the lines from the movies by heart while mimicking the characters' expressions. He couldn't help but burst out laughing, and you simply responded with a bright smile.

"Are you ready?" Y/N asked, snuggling up to Lando on the comfy gray couch at home. Lando, with a smile, pulled her close as he dipped his hand into the bowl of popcorn.

"Hey, wait until the movie starts," the girl said with a sweet pout on her face, swatting Lando's hand away from the bowl. The racer brought his popcorn-filled hand to his mouth to eat them, but with a quick move, you stole them all.

"They were mine," he said with wide eyes. "I want a consolation kiss," he continued, whining.

Y/N, with a playful smile, gently sat on Lando's lap, giving him a sweet and syrupy kiss. He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her even closer to his chest.

"At this rate, we'll never start the movie," Y/N whispered against his lips.

Carlos Sainz

Everyone knew by now that you were a huge Disney fan. You knew all the songs by heart and spent more time singing than watching your boyfriend's races. All the Ferrari mechanics, and even the team principal, were aware of this passion of yours. So much so that when you walked by, they would hum small parts of Disney songs they knew.

Today was a peaceful day: no training for Carlos and no work for you. It was just you and him at home, and he was still sleeping. You got the crazy idea to try recreating the treats from the movie "The Princess and the Frog." For some company, you turned on the music, playing songs from the Disney movie you were trying the recipe from.

You were rolling out the dough, singing at full volume, forgetting about poor Carlos in the other room trying to sleep.

Suddenly, two arms wrapped around your waist as he sang the male part of the song. Smiling, you swayed gently with him while singing. When you put the dough in the oven, Carlos pulled you to him to dance and sing together.

It felt like a real movie scene. You were so happy and lost in Carlos' eyes. One of his hands was on your waist while the other held your hand gently.

The music transported you into a simply fairy-tale-like dance, and you felt like a real princess. You never wanted to stop.

When the sweet sound of the music ended, Carlos pulled you close, giving you a sweet kiss worthy of a Disney prince. The only thing that broke the magical moment was a small mishap: the smell of burning filling the house.

"Shit," Y/N said quickly as she ran towards the smoking oven.

Charles Leclerc

It was your birthday, and you were spending it in the car with Charles, heading to the circuit where today's race would be held. You didn't mind spending your birthday with Charles at all; in fact, he hadn't forgotten about you. He had promised that the two of you would go out to dinner that evening, just you and him, regardless of the race's outcome.

That day, Charles won the race, and as soon as he got out of the car, he headed straight for you with a radiant expression. He hugged you tightly, as if he feared you might slip away at any moment. With a smile that lit up his face, he gave you a quick kiss on the lips and handed you a small box. It was white, adorned with a purple bow, and embroidered on it were Rapunzel's lanterns. Confused and curious, you opened the box and found, on soft lilac velvet, two tickets to Disneyland.

To say you were happy would be an understatement: you literally exploded with joy, jumping on Charles and clinging to him like a koala.

It was strange to say, but despite being a huge Disney fan, you had never been to Disneyland.

The day of departure arrived quickly, bringing with it an electrifying frenzy. You had everything Disney-themed, from your suitcase to your hair tie. When you arrived at the park, you settled your things in the hotel and immediately after, you dragged Charles from one attraction to another, as excited as a child.

Charles almost had to run after you to keep from losing you in the crowd. On the very first day, you bought everything that caught your eye without caring about the price

, your face illuminated by a constant smile.

In the evening, the famous final show captured all your attention. You watched the choreography with wide eyes full of wonder. Charles, next to you, smiled tenderly, but you were too immersed in the lights and magic to notice.

"Do you like it, mon amour?" he asked softly, without taking his eyes off you, as if you were the most beautiful thing in the entire park.

You didn't hear him, lost in the enchantment of the show. So, Charles took your hand and, with a heart-melting smile, knelt before you.

"Mon ange, will you marry me?" he said, pulling a red velvet box from his pocket. Inside was a sparkling ring adorned with precious stones.

Fireworks exploded in the sky, painting it with a thousand colors, and you struggled to believe that Charles was actually proposing to you, right there, at that moment.

"Oh my God, yes," you whispered with tears in your eyes, overwhelmed with emotion.

"It suits you perfectly," said Charles, admiring the ring on your finger. In response, you jumped on him, kissing him with a passion, sweetness, happiness, and emotion all at once.

You had never imagined that this moment would come so soon, but it was perfect, exactly as you had always dreamed.

Oscar Piastri

Carnival was approaching, and you had been invited to a masquerade party with Oscar. Of course, you couldn't resist making him do a couples' costume.

The choice was quite simple: you would be Philip and Aurora from "Sleeping Beauty."

"Are you sure about this, darling?" Oscar asked, holding the prince's outfit in his hand.

"It will be fantastic," Y/N replied with a dreamy look, as she lay on the bed already dressed and made up as Sleeping Beauty.

"The princess awaits her prince's kiss to wake up," she continued, positioning herself just like in the movie after the curse. Laughing, Oscar moved closer to kiss her on the lips, but she placed a hand on his chest to stop him. "You're not the prince, you can't kiss me."

"Come on, Y/N," Oscar pouted, but you continued to deny him the kiss. Defeated, the Australian got up and went to put on his costume.

"I can't believe I'm doing this," he muttered before reaching the doorway. "Is this okay?" he asked, eager for his reward.

Frowning playfully, you motioned for him to do a twirl. Rolling his eyes, Oscar complied.

"Now?" he asked, giving you puppy eyes.

"I think it will do," said Sleeping Beauty, and in a flash, Oscar leapt into your arms like a puppy, covering your face with kisses.

Laughing together had always been one of your favorite pastimes, and this moment was no exception. After finally getting his kiss, Oscar adjusted his prince's cape, looking at you with a satisfied expression.

"Are we ready for the party, my princess?" he asked, offering you his arm.

"Yes, my valiant prince," you replied, taking his arm and smiling.

The party was in full swing when you arrived, and your entrance did not go unnoticed. Everyone admired your coordinated costumes, and many stopped to compliment you. The music, lights, and colors filled the air with a magical atmosphere.

Oscar acted like a true prince, guiding you in elegant dances and introducing you to everyone with a proud air. It was clear how much he was enjoying himself, despite his initial reluctance.

Towards the end of the evening, as fireworks lit up the sky, Oscar took your hand and led you to a quieter corner of the garden. With an affectionate smile, he looked into your eyes.

"You know, Y/N, today has been one of the most fun days I've ever had," he said. "Thank you for convincing me to do this costume."

"Thank you for agreeing," you replied, squeezing his hand.

Oscar leaned in and kissed you gently. In that moment, under the sky illuminated by fireworks, it truly felt like you were in a fairy tale.

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pukanavis · 7 months ago

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Fuyume Hanamura Idol Story 1

ーThe Yumenosaki Academy library, two years since the establishment of ES.

Fuyume: Excuse me?

Are there any fairy tales here…?

Oh, the shelf over there is the section for picture books and stuff?

Thank you for your help.

~...♪

(Ah, she was right. Yume recognises a bunch of the books over here.)

(They’ve got a good selection to choose from but the categorising is a mess. They’re just randomly thrown onto the shelf without any care for alphabetical order or release date.)

(Oh well…apparently no one has any love for fairy tales…)

(‘The Little Mermaid, ‘Momotaro’, ‘Tale of The Bamboo-Cutter’, ‘Snow White’, ‘Urashima Taro’, ‘Cinderella’—)

(Oh! It might not be the one Yume was looking for but he’s in the mood to read Cinderella today.)

(This story is another one that Yume adores.)

(It’s a tale about love being rewarded.)

…♪

Fuyume: …? Hm? Oh, uhm, you’re that nice person from earlier—did you need something?

You were so kind to Yume earlier, so he’d be happy to give you some company.

Huh? The Yumenosaki Academy library is off-limits to anyone that doesn’t work for or attend the school?

How could you tell that Yume isn’t a student here?

Ooh, cause Yume isn’t wearing the uniform…?

That makes sense…no biggie, Yume will be sure to wear the school uniform next time.

Yume is really good at sewing, so it won’t be a problem…fufu ♪

Huh? That’s not the issue?

Yume doesn't like anything you’re saying right now.

Here he was thinking you were a nice person.

Fuyume: Huh? Yume’s name is Fuyume Hanamura.

And you are? …Anzu-san? You’re a graduate of Yumenosaki?

You’re here at your old school to do some producer work, huh? It made you feel nostalgic so you’ve been walking around the grounds…?

Oh, is that the case? Hmm…♪

Then, aren’t you and Yume in the same boat? Yume goes to a middle school separate from Yumenosaki and you’ve already graduated…right?

It sounds like neither of us are allowed to be here.

Let's work together then, okay? If you pretend you never saw Yume, he won’t go around yelling, ‘There’s a trespasser in here!’ …♪

What do they call it? A contract, business, bargaining? Let’s do something like that…♪

If you’re willing to comply, Yume will leave you be. He isn't particularly interested in you anyway.

Yume is just here to read some fairy tales.

…♪

Fuyume: Huh? Did you need something else? You want to know what Yume is reading?

Ehehe, you’re interested in fairy tales? Sounds like we can get along.

Ehehehehehe. Yume is just reading a picture book about the massively popular princess, Cinderella. Though, he actually wanted to read something else.

Maybe you’ve heard of it? For some reason, no one in Japan knows about it—it’s a fairy tale about an amethyst.

Even if you don’t know the story, maybe you’ve heard this quote before?

—”The amethyst broke into pieces.”

Fufu. I guess you haven’t heard of it. Oh well.

Basically, it’s a story about an ordinary girl that comes across an amethyst that can grant any wish that she desires.

In fact, she actually fuses with the amethyst and becomes a crystalised-human of sorts.

It’s a curse put on her by an evil witch…ehehehehe ♪

The plot is kinda similar to ‘The Happy Prince’. Actually, something like ‘Arabian Nights’ or ‘The Monkey’s Paw’ might be a better match.

After transforming into the wish-granting amethyst, the girl wishes for her crush to pay attention to her, or to become better friends with people—

With each little wish she makes, the amethyst uses its power and gradually begins to crack—

Aah…♪ Eventually, her body becomes so fractured that it crumbles away and she loses all of the love and friends that she had been granted.

Her loved ones view her like a monster and chase her away in fear.

After everything, the final wish she makes is—

Fuyume: —Ah, wait, Yume thinks you should read it for yourself to find out what happens next. Spoilers are a crime!

Ehehe. If there’s one thing Yume can say, it’s that he empathises with the amethyst girl and even admires her.

At the end of it all, the final remaining piece of her—

Becomes a ring that showers the wedding between her best friend and the one she loved in joy.

After everything, her final wish is—wait, oops, Yume just realised how much he’s spoiling. He’s really really sorry.

You don’t mind? Really? You’re super kind, you know?

Ehehe. You see, Yume shares the same wish as the girl who became a ring.

—-“I wish for your life to be full of joy.”

During her final moments, the girl whose selfish asks led her to break apart used her last wish to bring someone else happiness.

Ehehe. Yume doesn’t have the power to grant wishes but he’ll do everything he can to achieve that too.

For example, Esu goes to Yumenosaki so Yume snuck in to watch over him in secret.

Huh? Does Yume love Esu?

It depends how you define ‘love’ but yep, Yume loves Esu.

But it's sad, isn't it? The reality we live in isn’t a fairytale.

—The amethyst already shattered long ago.

#Fuyume Hanamura #enstars translation #Ensemble Stars #4piece

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dwobbitfromtheshire · 10 months ago

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Dustin skidded into Eddie's hospital room, where Robin and Steve were both sitting with him. He still hadn't woken up since he broke free from Vecna's mind control and saved the entire town.

"Max is awake!" Dustin exclaimed.

"What?!" Steve and Robin exclaimed, jumping out of their seats.

"And guess how she was woken up?!" Dustin asked and waved himself away, unable to wait for their answers. "Lucas was all sad and crying because the doctors wanted to shut life support down, so he gave Max a kiss. . .that's when she woke up! Of course, she immediately scolded Lucas for making a move on her while she's asleep, but that's Max. Steve, I need you to kiss Eddie."

"What?!" Steve shrieked. "Why me?"

"Because out of all us, you're the one who looks more like the prince from Snow White," Dustin said, as if they explained everything.

"Oh my God! That's why you looked so familiar! All this time!" Robin exclaimed with wide eyes. "And Eddie does kind of look like Snow White. . . The boy is right. You have to kiss him. We have to know if Eddie is a Disney princess."

"Yeah, because that sounds logical," Steve said dryly.

"I did see a bunch of crows try to follow him into school one day," Dustin said.

"Hmm. Do you have photographic evidence?" Robin asked.

"No."

"I'm not kissing him!" Steve exclaimed.

"It's just a friendly kiss between two friends, Steve," Robin rolled her eyes.

Dustin noticed the way his eyes moved towards Eddie's and the way his cheeks turned slightly pink. . .the way he fidgeted. Oh.

"You know what, you don't have to do it, buddy. We're just messing with you," Dustin said. "We're not going to force you to do anything that you're not comfortable with. We can try other things to wake him up. It was just a silly thought."

"Wow, how manipulative of you," Steve said with his hands on his hips. "Fine, I'll do it."

"I wasn't - "

"I said that I would do it," Steve said, and then he went soft. "Anything to wake up the Hero of Hawkins, right?"

They watched him move closer to the bed and he looked at them for a moment.

"Do you want us to leave?" Robin asked, and Steve shook his head.

Steve sucked in a breath and exhaled. He bent down so that he was level with Eddie's face.

"Alright, I don't know if you can hear this, but I hope this is alright that I do this. We kind of want you around, man. Honestly, if it helps you to wake up, then I'm willing to try anything," Steve said.

Steve moved closer, and for a moment, he thought he saw a smirk grace Eddie's lips. It was gone, though, as soon as he cleared his throat. Steve pressed his lips against Eddie's, appreciating how soft and plump they were. God, they were so soft and nice against his own. He could feel his heart rate increase. He went to pull back, but suddenly, a hand slid into his hair and pulled him back into the kiss. Eddie was wake and kissing him. Steve gasped, causing his mouth to open slightly, giving Eddie the opportunity to slip his tongue inside. Steve’s eyes fluttered close, and he deepened the kiss, letting his own tongue dance with Eddie's. Suddenly, he felt Eddie grab him by his hips and pull him directly on top of him. Eddie grasped his thighs, maneuvering so that way he was straddling him. Steve broke the kiss, looking down on him in surprise.

"Hey," Eddie grinned wickedly.

"Hey."

"So, that was something," Eddie said and paused. "By the way, it's more than okay that you kissed me."

"I knew you were awake," Steve muttered as Eddie began caressing his thighs. "I didn't expect this."

He turned his head, suddenly remembering Dustin and Robin, but there was no one else in the room. He turned back to Eddie.

"I didn't expect this either," Eddie said. "It's a nice surprise."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," Eddie said. "You know, while you're up there, you could rip off that shirt and show me those tits again."

Steve laughed, smacking his chest playfully.

"What kind of gal do you take me for?" Steve asked.

"The kind of gal who rips of their sweater and throws it at a guy," Eddie cackled.

"Oh, yeah. I did do that," Steve said, biting his lip and blushing.

He stared at Eddie for a moment, as if deciding something. He grabbed the back of his shirt, and with one quick motion, he pulled it off. He tossed it somewhere in the room. Eddie looked at him with dark eyes and began moving his hands upward. His hands moved over his scars, and he gently caressed them for a moment before moving his them again. Eddie's hands landed on his chest, and he rubbed his thumbs over Steve’s nipples causing him to shudder before placing his palms over them. Eddie squeezed. With his hands still cupping Steve’s chest, the door opened, and Wayne Munson walked in. All three of them froze.

"Hey, Uncle Wayne," Eddie said cheerfully.

"Eddie."

"You know, if this is the kind of service that hospitals provide, then I'll gladly move in," Eddie said.

"You act like I don't know who Steve is when he's the one who carried you here and never left your bedside," Wayne said.

"Aww, Stevie."

"I'm going to go now. Not because I'm prejudiced but because I want to continue to look at you like you're still that curly haired bug eyed baby who couldn't say spaghetti," Wayne said. "I'm glad it worked out for you, Steve. I'll be heading out now."

Wayne quickly left after he said all of that. Steve turned to look at him and Eddie scowled.

"What? It's a hard word," Eddie said defensively.

"You still can't say it, can you?" Steve asked.

"I'll say it however I want to," Eddie said. "They're all just made-up words anyhow."

Steve laughed. He moved until he was lying down next to Eddie and was curled up against him. He squeezed him.

"You're so cute," Steve said fondly.

"Steve?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks for waking me up."

"Anytime."

". . .My sweet prince. . ."

And so, with a sigh, Steve closed his eyes, and this time, it was his turn to sleep because for the first time in a while, it felt like he could.

#stranger things #eddie munson #stranger things s4 #joseph quinn #eddie stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson lives #steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #dustin henderson #henderdads #henderfam #robin buckley #lesbian robin buckley #robin & steve #platonic stobin #stranger things fanfiction #rueleigh writes

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marciabrady · 2 years ago

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Despite poor commentaries throughout the years that seem to be based on prior critiques rather than the actual substance of the original 1937 Princess, Snow White is a very admirable character and has a myriad of positive qualities that make for a great role model. Apart from coping with losing both of her parents at a very young age and being, not only abused by her only parental figure left but also, forced into slavery- by someone who practices magic, no less, someone she had no chance against- Snow White also has a business intelligence. She never, ever expects the dwarfs to take her in out of the goodness of their hearts and just naively depend on the kindness of strangers, nor does she wait for her Prince to save her while she’s stranded in the middle of the woods without food and shelter.

Actively seeking out a place of refuge, she finds the empty cottage and quickly decides to work for her stay. She identifies a gap she can fill, and applies the skills of cooking and cleaning she’s mastered- not because they’re traditionally feminine activities and this movie is trying to turn back feminism, but because it’s the only trade she knew as a result of being forced into servitude from childhood by another woman- to an environment that’s in dire need of these abilities. With this, she barters an exchange for room and board and convinces a roomful of seven men, who start off not liking her and ascribing their own misogynistic views onto her, in mere minutes to accept her as their equal, as someone who they’re not simply taking pity on and allowing to stay with them, but as a contributing member who earns her keep just as the rest of the house does and is just as worthy of respect. What’s more, Snow White manages to accomplish all this and improve the quality of her life drastically in exchange for the same services she would have been doing anyway if she never left Queen Grimhilde’s castle.

So, in conclusion: by escaping her abusive household and conquering her fear in the forest, Snow White picks herself back up on her feet- after she’s nearly the victim of a homicide- and goes out into the world. She creates a new life for herself by finding a home and shelter, and quantifying her marketable skills to gain effective employment. She never throws around her status as a Princess nor does she expect a pity handout from others. She literally crafts a position for herself that makes her just as worthy of inhabiting the cottage as the Dwarfs by merit of her own hard work and skill- not her beauty, or her privilege, or her birth right as a Princess- and gains their respect, while still being comfortable asserting herself when they try to test her or disregard her authority as their equal. Through her insurmountable ability to rise above her circumstances, her sheer survival skills, and the fact that she literally creates a job for herself to sustain her livelihood, Snow White is a modern woman.

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ofoceansandtombsanew · 8 months ago

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obsessed with the idea of seelie faerie prince gojou, as charming and as tricksy as all fae are. his snow-white hair eye catching and his azure eyes like gems pressed into his flesh

seelie prince satoru whose very birth shook faerieland as foretold by the stars red, blue and purple stars that soared through the sky the night of his birth

seelie prince satoru who is much more observant than his penchant for revels and merrymaking belies

seelie prince satoru who relishes in obnoxiously getting under the skin of the gentry of his court with his radical ideas that challenge the traditions that have been established for centuries

seelie prince satoru whose court is filled with political strife between three major families- the gojou, zenin and kamo. and it's really just his look this particular luck that he's bleeding out after a particularly harrowing attempt on his life. must have been that petty bastard naoya but in this particular moment, numb from poison and with a bloodied torso it really isn't going to do him any good trying to figure out who sent the now dead assassin after him

he won't die from this, he's been developing an immunity to poison. but even so, this is tough on his body as he sits in a misty forest waiting for the poison to wear off on his body with the scent of iron strong in the air

that's when he sees something that any faerie would consider the worst omen ー he sees you.

faeries are immortal folk. unless someone goes out of their way to kill them, they never die. it's what makes them stronger, far further creatures than humans with their insect-length lifespans

seelie prince satoru who even with his eyes, it's difficult seeing you clearly with poison muddling his senses but he sees the tell-tell white hair and gray skin and he knows you're a banshee

seelie prince satoru who chuckles humorlessly as he accepts that apparently, his luck has run out

he's sure of this as you slowly come closer and closer until he sees you much more clearly. your eyes are bloodshot, as to be expected of your kind. but your eyes might be the most beautiful thing he's ever seen. they're a pale lilac and your pupils are a ghostly white, shockingly light against the reds of your eyes but even that looks beautiful. he never cared particularly for the color red before but in this moment he can understand why red caps crave the color so and satoru thinks that if he is going to hear those damning cries that will seal his fate in this instant, he's glad it's you

banshees were human women that died in grief, right? that died tragedy before the grace of the gods turned them fae. death is a beautiful look on you but he wonders what you'd look if you were still colored in the shades of life that once blossomed over you like spring blooms

and so you part your lips... but rather than wail and scream, announcing to the headless riders of faerie that death is near, death is coming for gojou satoru your eyebrows knit in worry and you ask

"are you alright?" as you kneel by his side, reaching for his wounds carefully. your voice is honestly akin to hearing birdsong in the night, a juxtaposition he wasn't prepared for. "here, let me help you"

apparently the seelie prince's luck is greater still. death won't come for him yet. instead, he's become a hypocrite. an unintelligent hypocrite but he can't quite seem to make himself care in this instance when he is tended to by your cold but gentle touch and your lark-like voice drips like honey from your lips.

whether it's folk or mortal, satoru likens love to a curse that makes those around him stupid. a curse that leads to betrayals, war and frankly too much strife he desires to deal with

yet in this moment, that very curse seemed to course through his veins

stupid is as stupid does, seelie prince satoru's lips part and he asks you as if enraptured in a spell "please marry me and i'll love you more faithfully than any man, fae or otherwise"

as for you... you're simply a banshee who just happened to be in this forest when you spotted an injured elf in the distance and decided to see if he'd accept your help if he didn't outright lose his mind in fear at the sight of you. you think he might have considering the words that left his mouth

it must be the blood loss talking

unfortunately for you and much to the aggravation of suguru and kento, seelie prince satoru's most trusted advisors, satoru was very much serious and fervently keeps referring to you as his future queen when you haven't even accepted the proposal

seelie prince satoru who insists you stay in his palace, at the very least until after a revel in a few moons time he wishes to throw in your honor. as thanks for treating his injuries which are still healing, might he add. anything could happen, what if a banshee needs to herald his death and one isn't around? he would also like the time to woo you over. please? just until then

seelie prince satoru who ignores the ardent whispers that it is bad luck for a banshee to be so close the prince. that insist that death fae are like roaches. surely if one appears, there will be more banshee and dullahan that follow

seelie prince satoru who coldly states that any such insult toward the woman who saved his life will find those who said them hearing the chilling cries they so fear sooner than they'd enjoy

#look she's writing #ish #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo x reader #gojou x reader #gojou satoru x reader #gojo satoru x reader #faeries #seelie #unseelie #banshee #i've been obsessed with faeries and mythology since i was a child and banshees are one of my favs not sorry #pls allow a hoe to indulge #lovesick gojo #he makes his advisors sick they're so fucking done with him #jjk faerie au

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lucysgraybird · 9 months ago

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modern!university!coriolanus x fem!reader. part 2 here, part 3 here

notes: this is not set in panem -- if you're looking for a vibe, think harvard/uchicago/any of the old-guard, upper echelon US universities. i have another part in the works that i'll post tomorrow or thursday. also i promise that they both have some crazy in them . It will appear in later parts

“Please remember that I cannot accept late work for this essay,” your professor says as everyone packs up. “The deadline is the deadline for work for the semester, so everything has to be submitted by then. This includes any outstanding work you might have.”

She shoots a look at a boy in the front row when she says that, and he bows his head.

“Have a wonderful weekend, and I'll see you all Monday.”

You shove your laptop in your bag, sling it across your body, and make a beeline for the exit. This is your last class of the day and you have no intention of spending any more time in a lecture hall than you have to. Just as you're about to leave the building, someone catches you by the shoulder and pulls you back.

“Excuse you,” you mutter, turning to see who would do something so…well, to put it diplomatically, bold.

There stands a boy with a shock of hair so blonde it's nearly white and eyes so blue they're nearly translucent. It would be eerie if he didn't wear it well: angular and bright, it's like he's been carved from the purest block of ice. His pale features are offset by the rich ruby of his sweater. He looks royal, though you'd think a prince wouldn't go around grabbing girls by their arms.

“I'm sorry,” he says. “I've been wanting to talk to you for weeks, but you always fly out of the building and I didn't want to miss you this time.”

“Talk to me? About what?”

God willing, not about some group project that had slipped your mind. You're so careful about organization, but sometimes things slip through the cracks.

“Would you like to go out with me?”

“Who are you?”

His eyebrows (the only dark thing on his face) twitch, and you wonder if he's so arrogant as to assume you'd know who he is. He doesn't say anything, though, just extending a hand to you.

“Coriolanus Snow. Pleasure.”

You shake his hand, finding the official-ness of it a little odd. When you open your mouth to introduce yourself, he stops you.

“I realize this is going to sound…odd, but I do know who you are. You're the only person I listen to in that insipid class.”

“Oh.”

Because honestly, what are you supposed to say to that?

“Let me take you to dinner, please,” Coriolanus says. “At least for the conversation.”

Your pause must spur him on, because he continues, “And you're gorgeous. Honestly, you caught my eye before you even started speaking, and then…well.”

He's very forward, but it doesn't come off as desperate. He carries himself with such a confident air that if he hadn't tried to be suave, it would've been more awkward.

You allow yourself to be flattered, offering him a soft laugh. His poise must be a front, at least a little, and you can put up a façade too.

“Why, thank you, Coriolanus. I'd love to go out with you, but I'm so busy with finals coming up…”

This is partly true – you're taking the maximum number of credits your advisor would let you, which is over the credit load the school has set, so you have a good deal of work to do. However, you're not above playing a little hard-to-get, especially if you are interested in the person. Half the fun of a hunt is the chase.

“All the more reason to go out. I know a spot if you're free tonight – one more bit of fun before hitting the books?”

“What kind of fun, Mr. Snow?”

“Well, we'll see where the night takes us, if that's a yes.”

It can't hurt, right?

“It's a yes. I'll text you my address?” You extend your phone to him, a delicate smile gracing your lips.

“Perfect,” he says, putting in his number. “I'll pick you up at 7:30. Wear something nice.”

“Where are we going?”

“A surprise, but it's very classy. You'll love it.”

You can't wait to look this guy up when you get home. “I'm looking forward to it. See you tonight."

“See you tonight.”

—

“Classy” is an unhelpful dress code, you're discovering. It refers to such a range of places, so you're left to take a guess and hope you don't make some sort of grave faux pas. You're limited in being overdressed as a university student, so you select the nicest thing you brought from home. It's a wine-coloured dress that skims just the middle of your calves, with a cowl at the neck and a sweeping back that shows a tasteful (yet tempting, you hope) amount of skin. With a thin necklace and some earrings, you could fit in at most “nice” restaurants that would be appropriate for a first date with a nigh-stranger.

At 7:25, you slip on your coat and heels and head down to the lobby of your apartment building. Something tells you that Coriolanus has a tendency towards extreme punctuality, so you'd rather not keep him waiting a moment.

Just as you suspected, at 7:30 exactly the silhouette of a tall man appears at your door and your phone buzzes with a text.

Coriolanus Snow: I'm here.

When you open the door, he is, indeed, there, holding a bouquet of white roses and wearing a red vest and slacks with a white dress shirt. He is nothing if not coordinated, you suppose.

“Ah,” he says. “Hello. These are for you.”

It is a lovely gesture, and it garners a genuine blush from you while you accept the bouquet. “Thank you. They're gorgeous. I didn't even know they made white roses.”

He offers his elbow to you, which you accept. Though it's odd, there's something sweet about his anachronistic nature. You, like any college girl, have had many a bad first date, and it's pleasant to have one with a man who is, at the least, polite.

“My grandmother grows them. I dropped by and picked these up on my way here. You look wonderful, by the way.”

“Oh! Thank you. I wasn't quite sure what to wear because I don't know where we're going, so I'm glad I chose well.” You glance over at his outfit. “We match, sort of.”

“So we do.”

He smiles in a way that's almost indescribable – it's not quite aloof, though it has some of the same calculation behind it. It actually feels incredibly personal, and sets your heart racing. Why this boy gets under your skin the way he does – the way no one has before – is something you have yet to discover.

Your walk with him ends at a black car, for which he opens the back door and allows you to climb in before following you. A scan of social media earlier had turned up tragically few results, and every single thing Coriolanus does makes you more curious about him. He settles next to you.

“So are you a polisci major, or are you just taking the one class?” You ask, unwilling to let silence be for more than a moment.

“Polisci and philosophy,” he replies. “My goal is law school directly after college, and then politics.”

“I should've guessed,” you say.

“Oh?”

“Not in a bad way. Just…you're very smooth. Well-spoken, attractive, all of that. You'd do well in politics.”

The corners of his lips turn in a slight smile. “You think I'm attractive?”

You laugh. “I certainly do, Coriolanus. I do have standards, you know.”

“Then I'm very glad I'm meeting them. Are you looking to do politics too, then, or…?”

“Honestly, not right now. I think I might stick to academia for a while. I don't have the stomach for pandering that you have to have for politics.”

“It's my least favourite part, honestly. I did some work for a senator last summer and the endless word-parsing drove me insane. No one ever says what they mean.”

“Right. The image of it all is fun, though. Like playing a character. But you don't have to do politics to do that.”

Coriolanus nudges his knee against yours. “Are you putting on an image for me right now?”

“A lady never tells. Are you putting on one for me?”

When you turn, he's a lot closer than you expected. You can see the spires in his irises, like cracked moonstones, and can smell his cologne: whiskey and spice and something woody, clean.

“You'll just have to find out,” he says, his voice low in his chest. It's said as a secret – there's no one else in the car, but it's as though if he says it too loud the leather of the seats might remember. These words were for your ears only, the rumble meant to coast across just your skin, and you shudder.

#coriolanus snow #coriolanus x reader #coryo snow #tom blyth #tom blyth fanfiction #tom blyth x reader #coriolanus x you #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow smut #coriolanus snow x you #coriolanus snow imagine #coriolanus snow fanfiction #coryo x reader #coryo

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swallowedbymadness · 1 year ago

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❅ no sound, it’s all around ❅

Pairing: Seongwha x chubby!fem!reader

Genre: that good romantic smut that makes angels cry

Summary: No power, no heat, and you’re stuck inside during a blizzard. You definitely didn’t expect things between you and Seonghwa to heat up as quickly as they had that night.

Word Count: 2.3k

A/N: Surpriseeee! Two fics in one week? Who is she. I have returned with another sexy love makin’ fic for your peepers. I present the prince himself, Park Seonghwa in all his glory. This one is very special to me. I was going to wait until Sunday to post it, but I was just too impatient to wait. So, you get it now as a little treat from me to you lovely babes. Listen to “Snow on the Beach” by Taylor Swift & Lana Del Rey for THEEEE VIBES. This fic is heavily inspired by it, aka I wrote this with it on repeat 💀 18+ content, so please, minors DNI. Enjoy! 🤍

Warnings: soft dom!Hwa, allllll the praise, a sprinkle of breath play, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected sex, cream pie, squirting.

Proofread: Yes! Thank you to the phenomenal @babesindestroyland for reading over this for me. You know the drill. If you see a mistake, no you don’t. 😇

White. It’s a color that represents purity, innocence, and perfection. You were surrounded by various shades of the color that night. The alabaster walls glowed and the silk sheets shimmered beneath the candlelight, while snow was silently beginning to stick to the bedroom window from the blizzard outside. The scene painted before you was simply picturesque as you both stood bare in front of one another, the shadows dancing across your bodies as your eyes spoke every confession of love that your tongues could not.

You weren’t sure how you and Seonghwa ended up here. Everything before this moment was now a blur. It was just the two of you, a quiet blizzard outside and your head was dizzy from the strawberries and champagne he had brought over just before the worst of the storm hit. The power had gone out not too long ago, the air within his apartment chilling slightly but not unbearable due to the fireplace burning brightly in the living room. You remember him feeding you a strawberry on the floor in front of the fire, the bubbles fizzing in your champagne flutes. You remember his eyes staring intently at your lips as they wrapped around the base of the summer fruit and how a bit of the rosy juice dripped down your chin. You weren’t embarrassed, but only because you saw his eyes watch it drip slowly down your skin before he took his thumb and wiped it off. You remember feeling a familiar flutter in your stomach as he popped his thumb in his mouth, humming to reassure you it was just as delicious coming off of you. You remember Seonghwa murmuring something before leaning in and connecting your mouths in a delicate kiss, his finger gently gripping your chin. You remember how his tongue tasted sweet like the champagne that glimmered in the firelight.

“It tastes better on your tongue,” he whispered into your ear, your earlobe soon being sucked between his teeth as he lightly nibbled on the cartilage. You remember sighing out loud and feeling the flush creeping onto your face when you heard him chuckle under his breath against your ear. “I wonder if you taste just as sweet.” You remember his lips moving down to your neck, nipping at the sensitive skin every now and then to hear the small whimpers leave your mouth as you felt the dampness of your arousal begin. His hand ran softly up your thigh, the floral dress you wore that evening giving him ample room to feel every part of you he wanted.

You remember tilting your head back as he placed sloppy open mouthed kisses against your throat, his hand ghosting over the area once he let go of your chin. You remember grabbing his face and allowing your tongue to slip into his mouth as you shared intimate kisses for awhile next to the warmth of the fire. You remember him breaking apart from you and standing up, his hand held out for you to take so he could pull you up. He never let go of your hand as he silently walked you into the Parisian inspired bedroom, and stood you in front of him at the foot of the king sized bed.

Now here you were with his hands falling to your shoulders, his fingers dipping underneath and encouraging the dainty fabric to fall from your body. You found yourself reaching over next to unbutton his crisp cotton shirt, his tan skin glowing in the candlelight. The pressed clothing fell to the carpeted floor, and eventually you did this until both of you were shed of everything. You remember his eyes, and if a man could get drunk off of sight alone, he would be so far gone. Everything about you made his heart pound aggressively within his rib cage. He let his fingers follow the curves of your body, feather light touches as he grazed the silky skin. You stood before one another for what seemed like an eternity to allow eachother to memorize every part of your bodies in the most vulnerable state they could be in.

“Hwa…” your voice came out no more than a whisper, your throat feeling like it was closing as you felt his eyes burn holes into your face.

“Yes,” it was more of an answer than a question, and you couldn’t recall what you wanted to say in that moment, because he didn’t give you time to think. He stepped toward you and had his hands roamining your body as his eyes never left yours.

“You’re beautiful,” your fingers were soon carding through his inky hair as you pushed it out of his eyes. “I don’t understand.”

“What don’t you understand?” His expression remained neutral as he tried to figure out your feelings in the current moment.

“All of this. You wanting me, us standing here together as we are now...it seems impossible.” You allow the words to fall from your tongue, heart beating wildly beneath your breast. His eyes crinkled as his beaming grin lit up the whole room.

“And why is that?” He tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear, his eyes radiating the utmost fondness for you as you looked up at him.

“Seonghwa. Look at you. You’re like an angel, and I’m-” your eyes drifted to the floor between you two, insecurities from your past flooding into your thoughts. He was quick to bring you right back up to the surface to him, not allowing you to drown in that right now, not ever again.

“Weird,” your eyes narrowed, his teasing nature making your heart dance, and he released a breathy laugh. “But fuckin’ beautiful.” His lips were back on your neck, peppering kisses all the way to your chin before his lips hovered above yours. “So fuckin’ beautiful,” he breathed against your mouth, not wasting any time before he pulled your body against his and pressed his lips to yours feverently. He leaned you back against the milky silk sheets beneath you, goosebumps forming all over you as the cold fabric met your skin. His mouth was instantly back on you, his tongue mapping out a wet trail as he kissed down your collarbone to your shoulder, then down to your plump breast, his tongue drawing a circle around your nipple. He took the hardening bud into his mouth and gently sucked, eliciting a soft moan from you. You watched as his member began to swell and grow an angry shade of red as precum leaked from the tip. His mouth glided across your breast to give the same treatment to the other one, the warmth beginning to bloom in your core as you watched a string of precum stick to his stomach. He kissed his way past your navel and down to your core. Not wasting any time, he began his ministrations, his tongue causing waves of pleasure to move through your whole body, his hands griping your thighs as his nails dug into the plump flesh.

“You taste so divine,” he growled as he gave your clit kitten licks before running the entirety of his tongue between your folds and dipping it into your pussy. He hummed when he tasted you on him, your arousal driving him wild. He looked up at you from under his lashes, pressing rushed wet kisses to your sopping pussy. “Like angelic nectar straight from the heavens.” He pushed his tongue back into you, his fingers abusing your clit before his mouth went to work you up again. Whines poured from your mouth, your hand grabbing a fistful of his midnight hair. You began to grind yourself against his face, his nose rubbing your clit deliciously. “Angels wish they could taste you on their lips. But you’re mine,” he lifted himself up and on top of you, positioning himself at your entrance that ached to be full of Seonghwa. As if sharing the same thought as you, he slowly pushed his swollen member between your throbbing walls. A gasp fell from both of you, the fit filling you up wholly, completely. A feeling you didn’t think would send this much emotion rushing through you, igniting your blood and setting it on fire, brighter than the embers that sparked from the logs in the fireplace just outside of the bedroom walls.

“Oh, Hwa” you sighed as his hips began to push into yours, quick and sharp so he could feel you as much as possible. You lifted your leg and he hooked it around his hip to get deeper inside of you. When he felt the tell tale signs of you approaching your end, he was quick to pull out and flip you over onto your stomach. He came back over you and laid on top of you lightly, pushing himself back inside of you tentatively. You felt his hot breath against the shell of your ear, little grunts and moans hidden under them filled your head and made you dizzy. You felt his lips on the back of your neck, as his member slid in and out of you with intent.

“No mortal is worthy of you,” He spoke lowly as he wrapped his hand around your throat gently and squeezed lightly. “My goddess divine.” Spots danced in your vision as he took your breath away, your pussy no doubtedly coating his dick with your slick at the slight pressure. “You are ethereal.” He praised into your skin, his moans mixing with yours as he took his time thrusting in and out of your plush walls. He savored every second of it, like he was experiencing something so spiritual. “Scream my name to the gods so they know who your most devoted disciple is.” His thrust began to get sloppy and harder as he saw the little bit of spit dribble from the side of your mouth. “Tell them who.” He said through gritted teeth, sweat falling from his brow as he lost himself to the pleasure that was you. “I want you to see the very stars you fell from as you cum for me.” His hands were soon smacking down on both of your ass cheeks, gripping at the plump flesh, his eyes widening at how they jiggled underneath his sweaty palms.

“You Seonghwa, only you!” You shouted, your knuckles white as you gripped the slippery sheets, inaudible ramblings falling from your lips as his dick slammed into your g-spot. “Fuck! Hwa,” you screamed into the mattress as he fucked you right into it, plump tears staining your cheeks. You felt the build up in your core finally explode, the sheets soaking up your fluids as they poured out from the depths of your walls and coating his dick even more. That sent Seonghwa into a frenzy, his cock twitching as he felt himself unravel above you.

“Oh angel, I’m cumming, I’m cumming, I’m-” You felt him spill into you as his pace slowed, allowing your rigid walls to pull his orgasm from him. He collapsed next to you, his flesh sticky and chest heaving as he stared up at the ceiling. You rested your cheek on your forearm as you looked at him, adoration the only thing present in your irises currently. You placed a hand above his heart, the organ rattling under your palm.

“How long?” You questioned, not needed to say more for him to know what you were asking.

“When I saw your eyes shine like starlight under the first full moon of the summer. We were walking along the beach, nothing but the sound of waves crashing against the sand under our feet. You had a sparkler in your hand, skipping around like it was the greatest thing you’ve ever seen. When you looked at me, the grandest smile adorning your face…that was when I realized.” You felt the strings holding your heart in place snap as it fell to the pit of your stomach.

“You’ve felt this way for that long? Why didn’t you tell me?” A part of you felt upset that you’d gone that long without a confession being made. If only he had told you sooner…you couldn’t help feel like so much time had been wasted not together.

“I didn’t realize you felt the same way.” He stated simply. You groaned, hiding your face in your arm.

“How did you find out?” You peeked one eye above your arm, looking at him curiously. He stared at you from the corner of his eye for a moment, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. He felt his heart melting at the sight of you. Ruined, but still glowing ever so radiantly. All because of him.

“Because,” he pulled you to his chest finally, a content sigh leaving him once the weight of you rested on him comfortably. “I saw the same fondness in your eyes that I knew I had in mine whenever I looked at you.” You didn’t dare question it, because you would never admit that you felt the same way for just as long as him. You knew in your heart exactly when you fell for Park Seonghwa.

He was nothing but a mysterious blur at first, but when your eyes came into focus and saw him for the very first time, it was like an angel descended from heaven that very night. The glow of the Christmas lights illuminated his soft features, his blinding smile enraptured you. The moment he said hello to you, you willingly handed your heart over to him. Little did he know, he’s had it in his hands this entire time.

“So, you love me?” He chuckled under his breath at the question, but he silently nodded.

“I am absolutely captivated by you.” He traced invisible patterns into your back, his eyes drooping shut as his voice became thick with exhaustion. “Always have been. And I always will be.” He pressed a delicate kiss to your hairline before falling gracefully into unconsciousness, his chest beginning to rise and fall at a steady pace. You laid there and watched as the snow fell silently outside. As each flake swirled in the midnight air, you reveled in the fact that your love for one another was like the frozen crystals that danced with one another.

It came down, no sound, and it was all around.

#ateez fic #ateez smut #ateez fanfic #ateez seonghwa #ateez x fem reader #ateez x reader #ateez x chubby reader #seongwha #park seonghwa #seonghwa x you #seonghwa x reader #seonghwa x y/n #ateez x y/n #ateez x you #seonghwa x chubby reader

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tteokdoroki · 2 years ago

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*ੈ🌩️‧₊˚— just for tonight, i don’t hate you + katsuki bakugou.

૮˶ᵕ ༝ᵕ˶ა synopsis — when there’s a bounty over your head and a reward for your safe return to your soon-to-be husband and future king, touya todoroki… you should be mindful of who you fall for. you should pretend to hate the man who seeks the prize money you’d bring. and the dragon prince, katsuki bakugou, should probably do the same.

⭑ warnings — please read + mdni ! characters aged up, smut, angst, arguments, one-bed trope, enemies to lovers, love confessions, arranged marriages, fingering, marking, biting, scratching creampies, hair pulling, unprotected sex, orgasm denial, slight!infidelity, fantasy!au, fem!reader, dragon prince!bakugou.

⭑ words — 2.8K.

⭑ notes — happy valentine’s day my sweets!! here’s a precious little fic for you, a commission from the darling @peonies-and-teacakes and beta read by @yuki-no-akumu !! i hope you guys enjoy and remember that ily <3 mwah mwah !! - m.list ✩

“s-sir…i am so sorry.”

don’t.

“t-there’s been some kind of mistake!”

don’t you say it.

“unfortunately the room at our inn you’d requested for tonight has been double booked…”

don’t you dare say it.

“we can only offer you the alternative which is a single bed, again sir, i-i’m so sorry.”

it’s not the clerk’s fault, it’s a simple mistake that anyone could make at an inn located in one of the busiest travelling towns in all of Aethopia— but it shouldn’t have happened to katsuki bakugou. it’s the worst thing that could have ever happened to katsuki bakugou. “you gotta be fuckin’ kiddin’ me,” the dragon prince snarls, almost resembling the mystical creature acting as his tribe’s crest— teeth white, sharp and menacingly on display. “all this fuckin’ coin spent on a useless, shitty inn ‘nd you can’t even book the right room?”

the clerk shrinks back, visibly shaken as they hand over a set of room keys to the blonde. “s-so sorry! s-sir!” they add timidly, flinching as they clatter into bakugou’s palm and he snatches the metal away from them.

“sorry ain’t gonna cut it, what a waste of my coin! i ain’t ever comin’ back to this shithole.” he continues to snap, and with a swish of his red woven cape, bakugou’s gone— storming away and outside of the reception, filled with enough rage to fan the flames of a dragon’s fire. you’re waiting for him with his horse, tending to it as he steps into the cool outside. the forest trees sway with the prince’s arrival but don’t do anything to distract you from running your fingers to the snow-white coloured steed.

you’re beautiful and that angers katsuki. you’re the prettiest thing he’s ever seen in all of the moons he’s existed— you shine under the light of the silver crescent, as if glitter is speckled all over your skin or you’re covered in a layer of diamonds.

your smile as his horse chuffs and nudges you with its head is precious, more valuable than any gem found in this world’s greatest mines. your dress isn’t made out of the finest materials, but it fits perfectly around your sweet dips and curves— it’s pretty. you’re pretty. there’s something about you that makes a mess of katsuki’s pulse, that steals his breath away and he hates you for it.

you’re supposed to be an ordinary girl, you’re supposed to be just a pile of coin to him— a reward for returning you, prince touya of Ignis’ runaway bride. there was a hefty bounty hanging over your head for your safe return to his royal highness’ side, for you were to be the tool that helped to clean up prince touya’s act and get him prepared for kingship. again, you weren’t meant to be anything more to katsuki, in fact, if he had to he would force himself to despise you— you make him miserable, he has to remind himself that you’re just a prize. nothing more, nothing less.

despite the blonde’s plan to have you back in the hands of the todoroki family— he’s had his doubts. rumour has it that touya todoroki, better known to lesser folk as dabi, is an evil brute. one with little regard to the women he’s kept or invited up to his royal chambers. other whispers on the street have mentioned that you were a spoiled little village girl from within their kingdom, refusing the life the todoroki’s were to offer you.

that was another reason for bakugou to hate you— you were a brat that ran away because touya wouldn’t feed you with a silver spoon, because he was the first man in your existence to be unkind and you couldn’t find it in yourself to put up with it despite being set for the rest of your life.

katsuki bakugou of the dragon tribe had found you just outside of his territory— half dead, your clothes torn and a second away from being hunted by the mythical monsters that prowled them. you resented him, for what he did next. you had the audacity to be mad at the dragon prince for saving your life and nursing you back to health. you blame him for the miserable outcomes of your life and for having his heart set on returning you back to touya todoroki, blaming him for it all.

at the time, the pair of you had argued. bakugou had called you a stupids and naive little girl— who wouldn’t want to be married to a future king? you wouldn’t have a single thing to worry about if you did, your every need would be taken care of without you even asking. you wouldn’t have to kill for your next meal, worry about when or where you could sleep next, spend every day fighting for survival. clearly you both had different views on the world, and what should have been gratefulness turned into hatred.

bakugou had tied your wrists, dragged you kicking and screaming back on the route straight to the todoroki castle— reuniting you with your Prince Charming. so far, you’d made this journey hell, almost cost him fights and got him in trouble with clients or employers. you were embarrassing.

and in your eyes? katsuki was your fairytale villain. he was a selfish, ugly bastard who wouldn’t let you steal your freedom, all for some money. you hated bakugou with every fibre of your being and every ounce of your heart and he knew. he knew this, but that didn’t make it any easier to handle when you look at him like his every step scorches the earth.

scowl at him like you do now.

like he was the most awful man in the world. like he was touya. who he had heard from stories didn’t handle women in the best of ways.

“what, ya still mad at me, princess?” bakugou asks as he approaches you, the twigs snapping under his boots grabbing your attention.

before arriving at the inn, the dragon wielder had told you that you were a useless airhead— one that couldn’t survive on her own and needed a man to save her. you’d slapped him hard without hesitation and neither of you’d spoken until now. “of course i am, don’t ask stupid questions, you barbarian,” you spit harshly, turning back to the horse at hand. “did you get the room? i’m tired and sick of looking at your face.”

he almost flinches back to avoid being hit by your venomous words but instead retaliates. “i did ‘n yer stuck with me, sweetheart, there’s only one bed.”

“you’re kidding, right?” your eye twitches as you spin on your heel to face katsuki once more and the blonde braces himself for an onslaught of your slander. “oh! bakugou. you’re such an incompetent fool. you can’t even book an inn on your own, so you need a woman to do that for you?” you throw his words from earlier back into his face like an acid burn that’s been waiting underneath your tongue.

“i didn’t wanna be stuck with your ass anyways! quit complainin’!”

“well, if you insist on not being stuck with me, perhaps releasing me before we reach the todoroki’s is a good idea—“

“— fat chance, princess.” bakugou scoffs back. “not with the bounty over your head. puttin’ up with your shitty attitude will be fuckin’ worth dealin’ with until you’re back with ‘em.”

he doesn’t give you a chance to retort, heading back into the inn whether you follow him or not.

katsuki is glad that you don’t, at least not straight away— wanting to calm down the ache you’ve inflicted upon his hatred-blackened heart.

though he might hate you, katsuki can always tell when you’re crying.

around the same time every night and throughout your travels, your shoulders shake as sobs rack your body while you think he’s fast asleep. of course, the dragon prince feels bad— he’s practically handing you off to the devil in exchange for a lump of cash. you’ve been down on your luck and the blonde feels partially responsible for that.

rolling over to face you, bakugou watches with a deep frown as you keep your eyes on the wall opposite you— not daring to acknowledge him. “‘m sorry… about what i said,” he feels guilty but only just, unsure of his next words. “‘bout this touya thing… and all the men that have hurt you. i’m—” he takes a breath. “sorry about everything. i only treat you that way ‘cause i don’t want ya to end up lost like me…” he doesn’t want you to fall for him, to stay with him.

silence echoes between you both but katsuki can tell that you’ve calmed down from the way your body stops shaking and your hiccups quieten down. “you care about me, bakugou?” rolling over, the blonde finds himself lost in the sparkle of your galaxy eyes yet again— hating you for it, fighting down his love for you.

you’re close, way too close and everything beneath the sheets is hot. “shut up, princess.” bakugou whispers, not realising that the warmth of his breath is coasting over your lips wetly. before either of you know it, you’re kissing— mouths slotting against one another, tongues rolling over each other sloppily as you swap spit and pour undisclosed feelings into one another. his hands slip under your flimsy excuse for a night-gown, trailing up the good meat of your thighs, the soft curves of your waist and hips. you have him in shambles, with the way you gasp quietly at his thumbs swiping at the swell of your breasts— just brushing over your pebbling nipples. you coo and cry and he takes more from you, tugging on your lower lip with shining rows of pearly whites and licking into your mouth to swallow your whistle-tone moans.

“quiet, princess,” bakugou’s mouth is hot, blisteringly slow— his tongue leaving trails of clear, thick saliva along the planes of your skin. “gotta be quiet, baby, can’t wake anyone up, yeah?” the sharp edges of his teeth just graze your salt-licked flesh, barely nipping it. katsuki knows better, he can’t leave marks. he can’t return damaged goods to the soon-to-be king. to the touya todoroki. “so good, such a good girl.”

“o-oh! k-katsuki!” you stutter out, eyes rolling to the back of your skull and locking away the stars as the dragon prince’s hand fumbles between your hot and heavy bodies. he finds your clit, swollen and sticky— pulsating beneath rough fingertips. “p-please, i need you. please, katsuki. n-need–!” you sing your praises to the high heaves, the letters of his name rubbed into your pretty pussy as he plays with it between your slick, doughy thighs.

a single finger slips past your fluttering entrance, but he doesn’t dare let up on your pleasure nub— circling it diligently. “shut up, yeah?” the man slurs into your neck, spreading your pussy lips apart to finger you deeper, faster— losing his sanity listening to the sound of you squelch. “i hate you…r’member that. h-hate you— fuck…”

“hate you, s’much. o-oh, right there!” your own set of fingers curl in sandy blonde locks tightly pulling him back up to your face for a kiss. but his eyes, your eyes, they both speak forbidden and unspoken love. your other hand grasps at his throbbing cock, arousal spilling over your knuckles and straight from the tip. his chest rumbles in pleasure, hips rutting into your closed fist languidly before he swoops down to lure you into the forest of temptation, the haze of another uncoordinated, messy kiss.

you mewl into one another’s open mouths, swollen and cherry lips meshing together— this? whatever you’re doing together, a pile of sweaty limbs moving in sync with one another…it’s everything either of you have ever wanted. playing pretend, hating one another face to face and loving one another in secret. katsuki curls his fingers, pressing down on your g-spot and you run your thumb through the seedy slit of his cockhead…eager to please one another. to love one another.

“put it in, katsuki.” gasping but demanding, you call to him— hungry for more, to have his everything. he wants to, god he wants to. but what if he hurts you? what if you fall apart like fragile glass? what if touya—? you grab at the blonde’s chin, guiding his gaze up to yours and his thick girth to your clenching, unfilled hole. “just for tonight, one night. show me how you truly feel about me katsuki…make love to me.”

you’re giving him a chance, giving him this one last night to deflower the prettiest, most beautiful thing katsuki bakugou has ever held in his bare, monstrous hands. wrapping your legs around the slenderness of his waist, you lock your ankles at the small of his back and squeeze to draw him closer. his milky shaft pushes through your arousal soaked folds, clear strings of it clinging to every vein that decorates the length of him.

both of you shudder once he’s bottomed out inside the warmth of your velvety, silken walls. he’s as deep as he can go, stretching you over him with slow rolls of his hips and his balls heavy with cum, seated at the curve of your ass. “f-fuck, you’re tight, princess,” katsuki whines, wrapping his arms around your head to pin you to the bed beneath him. he fills you to the brim, brings tears to your eyes as he splits you apart and pieces you back together with every single thrust. your g-spot is a victim to endless ectasy given to you by his mushroomed tip as it rams against you, desperately.

rolling your hips up to match his pace, you swallow the saliva pooling on the palette of your tongue— skin buzzing with lust while you mark up the blonde’s back. you leave tiger-claw patterns across his tanned back, red and raw before mussing up his hair pulling him closer until either of you have room to breathe. his breath is ragged against the shell of your ear, thrusts rampant each time he plunges into your souse, salacious pussy.

katsuki drowns himself in you, and like an alcoholic reaching for another drink— he’s addicted. he groans pathetically when you bite him, kiss him and spit into his mouth until he’s babbling and brainless. you bite his shoulder to keep quiet but the bed creaks loudly enough to cover your harmonised moans and the sound of skin slapping on skin harshly.

“i love you,” you breathe weakly, body wracked with shakes when bakugou slips out of your cunt from how fast he's pounding you into the sheets, tied to you only by strings of slick.

he says it back, instantaneously while forcing himself back into your addictive heat, desperate to get you both to your highs. “i love you.” next he finds your clit again, using three fingers to tap at it so that you tremble cutely beneath him. “hold it, princess. hold your orgasm. p-promise it’ll feel good, kay?” the dragon prince pulls back only just, dragging his seedy tip along your insides and you whine at the loss of being so full. “promise me that when he’s fucking you, when touya makes you his bride a-and weds you, his pretty virgin bride…that you’ll think of me ‘n me alone.”

“i-i promise,” you murmur, playing with the baby hairs on the base of katsuki’s neck, looking up at him lovingly as you clench down on him at his claim— dripping sweet nectar down his balls.

only then does katsuki put his entire weight on you, jutting into you all at once, nearly breaking the bed as it hits the wall behind you over and over. his cock swells inside of you, close to bursting and cumming inside of you. with one, two, three more calculated thrusts you’re thrown over the edge— the dopamine high of your orgasm crashing over your brain while you squirt clear streams over his lower tummy and cock.

he’s right behind you, following the stream of your sweet essence that nearly forces him out of you. thick, hot ropes of cum paint your insides belonging to the man that you love, filling you up to the brim. katsuki collapses on top of you with one last kiss, your foreheads pressed together and the crude mix of your arousal leaking from your tiny hole, onto your shared sheets.

“i don’t…i don’t hate you,” you stutter once both of your breathing has evened out, teary eyed because you can’t say that you love him again. it’ll make it too real, neither of you can have that if you’re promised to touya and bakugou has promised to take you back to the ruthless future king.

“niether do i,” katsuki breathes back, wiping your eyes with the pad of his thumb, using a delicate touch.

he couldn’t help it, loving you but at least he got to…just for tonight.

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julibf · 23 days ago

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JON WAS PROMISED TO SANSA PART 2

Ok, now lets go to the books chapters. Again, we are trying this theory that Jon Snow may be the Prince that was Promised to Sansa.

People may think that I am crazy but if you re read the books all over again, paying attention to a small detail, you may start believing this theory too. As I was reading the books again, I started noticing that every single time Sansa’s receives a marriage proposal, the next chapter that follows is a JON SNOW chapter. I know that this theory has been talked about several times and we all believe the chapters to be a big foreshadow of Jon and Sansa romance, but what if the idea of the chapters is to tell the reader that Jon and Sansa ALREADY have a betrothal? what if the author is trying to tells us that those two characters are already promised to each other?????

That would be a twist!!!!!!

Right from the beginning we have King Robert arriving at Winterfell and visiting Lyanna Stark tomb in the crypts, there he offers a marriage alliance between House Baratheon and House Stark, with the marriage of Sansa and his son Joffrey Baratheon. This is the only chapter that Sansa will receive a marriage proposal not directly, in this chapter is Ned Stark that receives the proposal since Sansa is only 11 years old in the beginning of the story and her father is her guardian, after that, since Sansa will lose her parents and protectors, the proposals will happen directly to her.

A GAME OF THRONES CHAPTER 4 AND 5

Chapter 4, Eddard I

"Come south with me, and I'll teach you how to laugh again," the king promised. "You helped me win this damnable throne, now help me hold it. We were meant to rule together. If Lyanna had lived, we should have been brothers, bound by blood as well as affection. Well, it is not too late. I have a son. You have a daughter. My Joff and your Sansa shall join our houses, as Lyanna and I might once have done." This offer did surprise him. "Sansa is only eleven." Robert waved an impatient hand. "Old enough for betrothal. The marriage can wait a few years." The king smiled. "Now stand up and say yes, curse you." "Nothing would give me greater pleasure, Your Grace," Ned answered. He hesitated. "These honors are all so unexpected. May I have some time to consider? I need to tell my wife …""Yes, yes, of course, tell Catelyn, sleep on it if you must." The king reached down, clasped Ned by the hand, and pulled him roughly to his feet. "Just don't keep me waiting too long. I am not the most patient of men."…… For a moment Eddard Stark was filled with a terrible sense of foreboding. This was his place, here in the north. He looked at the stone figures all around them, breathed deep in the chill silence of the crypt. He could feel the eyes of the dead. They were all listening, he knew. And winter was coming.

What if the dead were watching Ned break his promise made to his sister and are sensing the Doom of House Stark?? This proposal is immediately followed by Jon Snow first chapter in the books.

Followed by JON I

BTW, in this chapter we have Jon getting completely drunk in the feast. Word in the castle have traveled and everyone knows Sansa has been betrothed to Joffrey. I always assumed that Jon was so upset in the feast, not because he was seating far way from the rest of the family, but because he heard of the news of the betrothal between Sansa and Prince Joffrey.

He had sated his curiosity about the visitors when they made their entrance. The procession had passed not a foot from the place he had been given on the bench, and Jon had gotten a good long look at them all…… His half sisters escorted the royal princes. Arya was paired with plump young Tommen, whose white-blond hair was longer than hers. Sansa, two years older, drew the crown prince, Joffrey Baratheon. He was twelve, younger than Jon or Robb, but taller than either, to Jon's vast dismay. Prince Joffrey had his sister's hair and his mother's deep green eyes. A thick tangle of blond curls dripped down past his golden choker and high velvet collar. Sansa looked radiant as she walked beside him, but Jon did not like Joffrey's pouty lips or the bored, disdainful way he looked at Winterfell's Great Hall.

Jon is jealous, again, in a first glance we may think that he is jealous because he is a bastard and can not be part of such important ceremony, but what if he is jealous because he can not be sited right next to Sansa???A few moments later, Benjen Stark comes to talk to Jon and that’s when Jon ask Benjen to go to the wall and take the Black…

A STORM OF SWORDS CHAPTERS 6 AND 7

Now those two chapters are quite interesting, because both are surrounded by SONGS, in Sansa’s chapters, we have the singer singing THE BEAR AND THE MAIDEN FAIR while Sansa is being introduced to the leader of House Tyrell, Lady Olenna also know as the QUEEN OF THORNS, while in Jon’s chapters, we have a singer playing The Dornishman's Wife while Jon is introduced to the leader of the Freefolk, Mance Rayder THE KING BEYOND THE WALL (who just happens to be the singer) Sansa is taken to meet the Tyrells by Ser Loras, someone she clearly desires, Jon is taken by Ygritte, someone who desires him. In both chapters Jon and Sansa are asked to tell the truth and their lives are in danger, Sansa feels like if she tells the truth and the information falls into the Lannisters ears she could be punished and killed and Jon knows that if Mance doesn’t believe what he says, his life is at risk. Sansa tells the truth, Jon lies.

In the end of this chapter Sansa receives a marriage proposal by the Tyrells, while on Jon chapter, Bael the Bard is mentioned in relation to Jon’s sisters. Once again, by the end of the chapter Sansa will receive a marriage proposal followed by a Jon Snow chapter.

Sansa I

The Tyrells invite Sansa for supper and during the meeting they make a marriage proposal to Sansa, while the dinner is happening the musicians play the song THE BEAR AND THE MAIDEN FAIR very loud. George really want you to notice this song in this chapter. You may as well wonder where this song comes from, and it seems that Ser Duncan The Tall first heard this song at the Ashford Tourney (yes, that same Tourney that foreshadows the marriage between Sansa and a Targaryen prince)

"I want you to tell me the truth about this royal boy," said Lady Olenna abruptly. "This Joffrey." Sansa's fingers tightened round her spoon. The truth? I can't. Don't ask it, please, I can't. "I . . . I . . . I . . ." " The old woman turned back to Sansa. "Are you frightened, child? No need for that, we're only women here. Tell me the truth, no harm will come to you." "My father always told the truth." Sansa spoke quietly, but even so, it was hard to get the words out. "Lord Eddard, yes, he had that reputation, but they named him traitor and took his head off even so." The old woman's eyes bore into her, sharp and bright as the points of swords. "Joffrey," Sansa said. "Joffrey did that. He promised me he would be merciful, and cut my father's head off. He said that was mercy, and he took me up on the walls and made me look at it. The head. He wanted me to weep, but . . ." She stopped abruptly, and covered her mouth. I've said too much, oh gods be good, they'll know, they'll hear, someone will tell on me. "Go on." It was Margaery who urged. Joffrey's own queen-to-be. Sansa did not know how much she had heard."I can't." What if she tells him, what if she tells? He'll kill me for certain then, or give me to Ser Ilyn. "I never meant . . . my father was a traitor, my brother as well, I have the traitor's blood, please, don't make me say more.""Calm yourself, child," the Queen of Thorns commanded. "She's terrified, Grandmother, just look at her."

That’s when Lady Olenna calls for a Song to cover up the conversation between them.

Sansa felt as though her heart had lodged in her throat. The Queen of Thorns was so close she could smell the old woman's sour breath. Her gaunt thin fingers were pinching her wrist. To her other side, Margaery was listening as well. A shiver went through her. "A monster," she whispered, so tremulously she could scarcely hear her own voice. "Joffrey is a monster. He lied about the butcher's boy and made Father kill my wolf. When I displease him, he has the Kingsguard beat me. He's evil and cruel, my lady, it's so. And the queen as well." Lady Olenna Tyrell and her granddaughter exchanged a look. "Ah," said the old woman, "that's a pity."

Finally, the Tyrells, once they have their truth about Joffrey, move to their next goal. The marriage alliance.

Lady Olenna frowned. "I see no need to give him a choice. Of course, he has no hint of our true purpose." "HE SMELLED THE SCENT ON THE SUMMER AIR!" Sansa wrinkled her brow. "Our true purpose, my lady?" "HE SNIFFED AND ROARED AND SMELLED IT THERE! HONEY ON THE SUMMER AIR!" "To see you safely wed, child," the old woman said, as Butterbumps bellowed out the old, old song, "to my grandson."(A Storm of Swords - Sansa I)

Next chapter of the book is JON I

In this chapter Jon is brought before Mance Rayder, since Rattleshirt doesn’t trust him. In the King’s tent, Jon mistakes Styr for Mance Rayder. But it is the gray-haired man playing the lute who is the King-Beyond-the-Wall. Rattleshirt reveals his misgivings about Jon to the king, but Mance wishes to speak with Jon alone.

The tent was hot and smoky. Baskets of burning peat stood in all four corners, filling the air with a dim reddish light. More skins carpeted the ground. Jon felt utterly alone as he stood there in his blacks, awaiting the pleasure of the turncloak who called himself King-beyond-the-Wall. When his eyes had adjusted to the smoky red gloom, he saw six people, none of whom paid him any mind. A dark young man and a pretty blonde woman were sharing a horn of mead. A pregnant woman stood over a brazier cooking a brace of hens, while a grey-haired man in a tattered cloak of black and red sat crosslegged on a pillow, playing a lute and singing: The Dornishman's wife was as fair as the sun, and her kisses were warmer than spring. But the Dornishman's blade was made of black steel, and its kiss was a terrible thing.

If the show is correct, Jon is Dornish, since he was born in the Tower of Joy and if he marries Sansa she would literally be the Dornishman’s wife. I also like how the song compares the woman to the sun, which brings back to Jon thinking of Sansa as radiant.

While Jon and Mance continue to talk, the King beyond the wall tells Jon that he remembers him from his visits of Winterfell, he tells Jon that he was also present at the Feast for King Robert that happened at the beginning of the novel, that’s when Jon mentions Bael the Bard back to Jon Snow story!!!

" The night your father feasted Robert, I sat in the back of his hall on a bench with the other freeriders, listening to Orland of Oldtown play the high harp and sing of dead kings beneath the sea. I betook of your lord father's meat and mead, had a look at Kingslayer and Imp . . . and made passing note of Lord Eddard's children and the wolf pups that ran at their heels." "Bael the Bard," said Jon, remembering the tale that Ygritte had told him in the Frostfangs, the night he'd almost killed her. "Would that I were. I will not deny that Bael's exploit inspired mine own . . . but I did not steal either of your sisters that I recall. Bael wrote his own songs, and lived them. I only sing the songs that better men have made. More mead?"

Now this is the first time in the story, that the idea of one of the Stark sisters be stolen by a freefolk is introduced. Not only George brings back Bael to Jon’s chapter, he starts to associate the story with Jon’s sisters. Based on the end of the tv show, Jon will be the King beyond the Wall, who and Sansa will be the last Stark maiden in Winterfell.

By the end, just like Sansa, Jon is asked to tell the truth. Mance Rayder ask Jon why he deserted the Nights Watch. Of course, we all know that opposite of Sansa, Jon doesn’t tell the truth, he lies to Mance about being resentful of the Starks.

"He gestured at the board between them, the broken bread and chicken bones. "Here you are the guest, and safe from harm at my hands . . . this night, at least. So tell me truly, Jon Snow. Are you a craven who turned your cloak from fear, or is there another reason that brings you to my tent?" Guest right or no, Jon Snow knew he walked on rotten ice here. One false step and he might plunge through, into water cold enough to stop his heart. Weigh every word before you speak it, he told himself. He took a long draught of mead to buy time for his answer. When he set the horn aside he said, "Tell me why you turned your cloak, and I'll tell you why I turned mine." …….. "And did you see where I was seated, Mance?" He leaned forward. "Did you see where they put the bastard?" Mance Rayder looked at Jon's face for a long moment. "I think we had best find you a new cloak," the king said, holding out his hand.

A STORM OF SWORDS CHAPTERS 68 AND 69

SANSA VI

Now we have Sansa arriving at the Vale, scaping from Kings Landing. She arrives at the Vale with the help of Littlefinger. As soon as she is introduced to Lady Lysa she receives a marriage proposal to marry her cousin Lord Robert Arryn. The proposal doesn’t bring much joy to Sansa that laments that marrying for love may never happen to her.

Lysa waved a hand negligently. "Not for many years. You are too young to be a mother. One day you shall want children, though. Just as you will want to marry." "I . . . I am married, my lady." "Yes, but soon a widow. Be glad the Imp preferred his whores. It would not be fitting for my son to take that dwarf's leavings, but as he never touched you . . . How would you like to marry your cousin, the Lord Robert?" The thought made Sansa weary. All she knew of Robert Arryn was that he was a little boy, and sickly. It is not me she wants her son to marry, it is my claim. No one will ever marry me for love.

NEXT CHAPTER????? Once again, JON SNOW!!!

I knew it the moment I saw this line next to jon’s chapter that George was planning this marriage. That’s why I never believe that Jon and Sansa would have a political marriage, this union would be for love.

A STORM OF SWORDS CHAPTER 79 AND 80

Now, on this one, their roles are inverted. Now is Jon who will receive a marriage proposal and of course, it will be followed by a Sansa chapter. Again, it's like the author is trying to tell us that those two are already promised to each other and can not accept anyone else.

JON XII

We start the chapter with Jon practicing sword fighting with Iron Emmet and he can not stop thinking about King Stannis Baratheon offer to legitimize him and make Jon not only a Stark but also the Lord of Winterfell. During his practice with Emmet he remembers another fighting practice many years ago at Winterfell….

Every morning they had trained together, since they were big enough to walk; Snow and Stark, spinning and slashing about the wards of Winterfell, shouting and laughing, sometimes crying when there was no one else to see. They were not little boys when they fought, but knights and mighty heroes. "I'm Prince Aemon the Dragonknight," Jon would call out, and Robb would shout back, "Well, I'm Florian the Fool." Or Robb would say, "I'm the Young Dragon," and Jon would reply, "I'm Ser Ryam Redwyne." That morning he called it first. "I'm Lord of Winterfell!" he cried, as he had a hundred times before. Only this time, this time, Robb had answered, "You can't be Lord of Winterfell, you're bastard-born. My lady mother says you can't ever be the Lord of Winterfell." I thought I had forgotten that. Jon could taste blood in his mouth, from the blow he'd taken. (A Storm of Swords - Jon XII)

Jon thinks of rebuilding Winterfell, just like Sansa in the next chapter will literally rebuilt the castle in the snow.

Lord of Winterfell. I could be the Lord of Winterfell. My father's heir….. It was short walk to the bathhouse, where he took a cold plunge to wash the sweat off and soaked in a hot stone tub. The warmth took some of the ache from his muscles and made him think of Winterfell's muddy pools, steaming and bubbling in the godswood. Winterfell, he thought. Theon left it burned and broken, but I could restore it. Surely his father would have wanted that, and Robb as well. They would never have wanted the castle left in ruins.

A interesting detail is that, the offer to be legitimized by Stannis comes with a demand. Jon needs to marry Val. Stannis wants the union of a Stark with a wildling princess, to unite the Freefolk with the North (but what if in the end we get a Wildling King marrying a Stark Queen?)

"Good," King Stannis said, "for the surest way to seal a new alliance is with a marriage. I mean to wed my Lord of Winterfell to this wildling princess." Perhaps Jon had ridden with the free folk too long; he could not help but laugh. "Your Grace," he said, "captive or no, if you think you can just give Val to me, I fear you have a deal to learn about wildling women. Whoever weds her had best be prepared to climb in her tower window and carry her off at swordpoint . . ." (A Storm of Swords - Jon XI)

Ygritte wanted me to be a wildling. Stannis wants me to be the Lord of Winterfell. But what do I want? The sun crept down the sky to dip behind the Wall where it curved through the western hills. Jon watched as that towering expanse of ice took on the reds and pinks of sunset. Would I sooner be hanged for a turncloak by Lord Janos, or forswear my vows, marry Val, and become the Lord of Winterfell? It seemed an easy choice when he thought of it in those terms . . . though if Ygritte had still been alive, it might have been even easier. Val was a stranger to him. She was not hard on the eyes, certainly, and she had been sister to Mance Rayder's queen, but still . . . I would need to steal her if I wanted her love, but she might give me children. I might someday hold a son of my own blood in my arms. A son was something Jon Snow had never dared dream of, since he decided to live his life on the Wall. I could name him Robb. Val would want to keep her sister's son, but we could foster him at Winterfell, and Gilly's boy as well. Sam would never need to tell his lie. We'd find a place for Gilly too, and Sam could come visit her once a year or so. Mance's son and Craster's would grow up brothers, as I once did with Robb.

Jon is now thinking as a wildling and realizing that he needs to steal Val if he wants the marriage to be valid. Which is why I have no doubt that he is stealing Sansa in the end of the books, this storyline is foreshadow in his chapters numerous of times. But the marriage with Val doesn’t make Jon very happy, he doesn’t love her and hardly know her. Just like Sansa, Jon would like to marry someone he loves, and not have a marriage just for a political alliance. But the truth is that he does longs for a family, for Winterfell, he dreams to one day be a true Stark.

Red eyes, Jon realized, but not like Melisandre's. He had a weirwood's eyes. Red eyes, red mouth, white fur. Blood and bone, like a heart tree. He belongs to the old gods, this one. And he alone of all the direwolves was white. Six pups they'd found in the late summer snows, him and Robb; five that were grey and black and brown, for the five Starks, and one white, as white as Snow. He had his answer then.

Finally Ghost comes back to Jon and he has his answer right there. The wolf brings back the memory when they all found the puppies. Jon belongs to the old Gods like his wolf and he cant turn his back to his old golds. I always assumed Bran sent Ghost to help Jon make his decision.

As he walked toward the armory, Jon chanced to look up and saw Val standing in her tower window. I'm sorry, he thought. I'm not the man to steal you out of there.

So we this chapter Jon Snow was forced to make a decision and turn down not only Winterffell but also the marriage alliance with Val, the wildling princess. He decides he wont be the one stealing her, but he did show a desire for love, family and Winterfell. Next Chapter we are going to have Sansa being “kissed by the Snow” and those kisses are going to rekindle her childhood dreams….

SANSA VII

She had last seen snow the day she'd left Winterfell. That was a lighter fall than this, she remembered. Robb had melting flakes in his hair when he hugged me, and the snowball Arya tried to make kept coming apart in her hands. It hurt to remember how happy she had been that morning. Hullen had helped her mount, and she'd ridden out with the snowflakes swirling around her, off to see the great wide world. I thought my song was beginning that day, but it was almost done….. Drifting snowflakes brushed her face as light as lover's kisses, and melted on her cheeks. …. She could feel the snow on her lashes, taste it on her lips. It was the taste of Winterfell. The taste of innocence. The taste of dreams.

Sigh, I will never get over this little foreshadow. The poetry, the romantism, the idea of dreams. This little paragraph will always be one of my favorites written lines in this entire novel. The idea that a new lover can enchant Sansa and bring back all her childhood dreams after all the pain and sorrow that she went through. And again, the dream involves Winterfell….

When Sansa opened her eyes again, she was on her knees. She did not remember falling. It seemed to her that the sky was a lighter shade of grey. Dawn, she thought. Another day. Another new day. It was the old days she hungered for. Prayed for. But who could she pray to? The garden had been meant for a godswood once, she knew, but the soil was too thin and stony for a weirwood to take root. A godswood without gods, as empty as me.

And then she goes to work, once she starts playing with the snow she wonders what she would like to build…

The snow fell and the castle rose. Two walls ankle-high, the inner taller than the outer. Towers and turrets, keeps and stairs, a round kitchen, a square armory, the stables along the inside of the west wall. It was only a castle when she began, but before very long Sansa knew it was Winterfell. She found twigs and fallen branches beneath the snow and broke off the ends to make the trees for the godswood.

For the gravestones in the lichyard she used bits of bark. Soon her gloves and her boots were crusty white, her hands were tingling, and her feet were soaked and cold, but she did not care. The castle was all that mattered. Some things were hard to remember, but most came back to her easily, as if she had been there only yesterday. The Library Tower, with thesteep stonework stair twisting about its exterior. The gatehouse, two huge bulwarks, the arched gate between them, crenellations all along the top . . .

Again, in the past chapter we had Jon dreaming on rebuilding Winterfell, having a family, marrying for love. In the follow chapter we have Sansa literally rebulding Winterfell with the help of “Snow”. She longs for her old days, the days of her childhood. This for me was always one of the strongest foreshadows of their romance and future.

So thats it. I can not wait to see more chapters in the future, if we ever get to see THE WINDS OF WINTER. Some may ask, but what about Sansa marriage to Tyrion???? well, that was not a proposal, Sansa was just forced into that marriage, just like Jon was forced into consummating his relationship with Ygritte. I shall write about Jon and Sansa parallels in the future too, it's insane how similar their storylines are.

#jon x sansa #jonsa #sansa stark #jon and sansa #jonsa is endgame #actually jonsa

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