#stableboy!harry

[hp-bodiceripper]

Bodice Ripper 2023: masterlist revealed

Reveals are here!

Thank you to all our wonderful participants for your skill and creativity. It's been a joy to host this fest for you again.

Thank you dear commenters, rebloggers, kudos givers, and enthusiastic supporters. We hope you feel properly romanced.

See you next year!

🖋 collarbones like a bow, skin an arrow to the heart by @lqtraintracks (Pansy Parkinson/Ginny Weasley, E, 4k)

Gin’s adjusting the lighting for their next shoot when in walks the new model Luna was so enthusiastic about, and that’s when they know they’re in deep shit.

🖋 Cool About It by @oflights (Harry Potter/Draco Malfoy, M, 16k)

Harry is so excited for his first date with Draco. But what follows isn't so much a date as it is an all-night odyssey including a malevolent lift, a Gringotts heist, a Sleeping Curse, a trip to the kebab shop, a lack of dancing, a Muggle drug, a rooftop pool party, a black eye and, eventually, a sunrise over a Quidditch stadium.

🖋 Love Me Meow by apricitydays (Arabella Fig/Minerva McGonagall, E, 2.5k)

After the students leave for the summer, Headmaster McGonagall and the new Muggle Studies professor have a chance and sensuous encounter at the beach.

🖋 Nature pricks them on to ramp and rage by @goblinmatriarch (Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, E, 21k)

Lord Draco Malfoy may be a young man spending time in Dumbledore’s summer court, but that does not mean he needs to succumb to its licentious frivolity. He carries the burden of his lineage, the shadow of rumours, and the dignity of his betrothal to a good match. He is certainly not fool enough to be distracted by the dark curls and ready grin of the court’s stableboy, who seems to have taken up with every courtier who looks his way.

🖋 The Real Thing by @skeptiquewrites (Harry Potter/Draco Malfoy, M, 5k)

Harry only means to cheer Draco up after a terrible breakup. He doesn't mean to fall in love.

🖋 this is how we become timeless by @evadwrites (Narcissa Malfoy/Lily Evans, T, 10k)

Narcissa is in eternal servitude to the Dark Lord, bound by the tears of a burned-down phoenix. Lily belongs to the Order, bound by the tears of the same creature. They’re the only two people in the world in the position of time turners, tasked with teetering the outcome of the ongoing war into their respective side’s favor. They are light years away, yet they’ve never been closer.

🖋 Wild Horses (couldn't drag me away) by @purplehotmess (Harry Potter/Draco Malfoy, E, 36k)

Koi no Yokan (Japanese) - The feeling of excitement you get when you first meet someone and know that you will eventually fall in love with them. A more realistic version of ‘love at first sight’, it roughly translates to ‘premonition of love’. A story of magic, horses, magical horses, and two men who fight all odds to find their way to each other.

🖋 Yesterday by suhtmuikkis (Harry Potter/Draco Malfoy, T, 10k)

Harry doesn’t intentionally kidnap Draco Malfoy. Really it’s debatable if you can even call it kidnapping but the git surely seems to think so.

🎨 Harry And Draco Wearing Kilts by @ladderofyears (Harry Potter/Draco Malfoy, G, digital art)

Our favourite wizards, dressed in traditional Scottish attire.

🎨 I Bloom Pink For You by @crazybutgood (Narcissa Malfoy/Pansy Parkinson, M, craft)

Pansy has been starved for love her whole life. All she needs is someone who will give her the approval she craves. An origami comic inspired by Schmem_14's fic.

🎨 Joy Exposed by @getawayfox (Fleur Delacour/Ginny Weasley, G, Digital art)

Ginny and Fleur give an interview for Daily Prophet’s new Weekend Magazine and spend hours doing an accompanying photoshoot. When it comes to approving the selection of photos for print, they unanimously choose the candid one taken on their break, rather than all the styled and posed images.

🎨 Monday Murder Club by @vitaminpops (Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Lavender Brown/Padma Patil, T, Digital art)

The members of a crime-solving club find love and friendship amidst the blood.

🎨 The Professor's Passion by @digthewriter (Narcissa Black Malfoy/Hermione Granger, G, Digital art)

Hermione is a professor and Gryffindor head of house. She loves her job... until Narcissa Malfoy is hired on the school's faculty, and is now head of Slytherin. God, that woman is insufferable. Hermione despises her so much she can hardly think about anything else. (She must hate her... that's why she always feels so hot and bothered when she's around, right? And does she have to be so damn beautiful?)

🎨 You Pierce My Soul by @reliand (Harry Potter/Draco Malfoy, M, digital art)

Harry's eyes were on him almost as soon as Draco entered the ballroom. It was as if he'd been watching the door, and now Harry's eyes were wide and his mouth open.

🎵 Masks Off by @roseszain (Harry Potter/Draco Malfoy, Teen, 3h 15 min)

Draco had followed his parents to this Caribbean island as a matter of course, even though no one had told him what they were doing here or why his father’s ships were frequently attacked by masked pirates. And, honestly, Draco’d had no intention of actually finding out either.

🎵 wasps and honey by swoons by cailynwrites (Hermione Granger/Narcissa Malfoy, M, 1 - 1,5 hours)

After ten years on parole in the Muggle world, newly widowed Narcissa Black is finally allowed to do magic again — as long as she can complete all the spells on the Ministry course list. Her Ministry of Magic representative? Hermione Granger.

#hpbodiceripper2023 #masterlist #mod post #drarry #hp femslash #hp wlw #hpbodiceripper #hp podfic #hp fanart

[ghaniblue]

HP Rec Fest: days 10-13

I neglected my reccing duties. This happens when you don't prep and queue all posts beforehand. Did I prep and queue the upcoming posts yet? Of course not. Onwards!

@hprecfest prompts: A fest fic, a dark fic, a WIP I'm following and a fic with >100k words. 2 Drarry and 2 Wolfstar recs.

Nature pricks them on to ramp and rage (21014 words) by @goblinmatriarch (Drarry, Explicit)

Lord Draco Malfoy may be a young man spending time in Dumbledore’s summer court, but that does not mean he needs to succumb to its licentious frivolity. He carries the burden of his lineage, the shadow of rumours, and the dignity of his betrothal to a good match. He is certainly not fool enough to be distracted by the dark curls and ready grin of the court’s stableboy, who seems to have taken up with every courtier who looks his way.

For the fest fic, I give you my favourite story from this year's @hp-bodiceripper fest. It made me laugh so much every time a bucket was mentioned. I need more stableboy!Harry fics in my life. Or to say it in Draco's words: "Surely, Draco had the self-control to be around a saucy drop-trou and his hypnotic bucket-related coquetry without succumbing." Spoiler: he did not.

Do not miss the embedded 12th century rimming debate. It is glorious.

Railway Lands (65012 words) by Maelipstick (Drarry, Explicit)

Draco finds his own way to cope with being a failed Death Eater at Voldemort's headquarters. Voldemort finds a way to destroy the wizarding world even after his death. Harry is trying to hold the world together while his mind quietly comes apart. Warnings for graphic drug use, depression and suicidal ideation, Draco being an arsehole, sex work, criminality, non-con sexual situations, shifting POVs, ofc werewolves, self neglect and self harm, general unprettiness, unplanned parenthood and references to other works of fiction.

This dark fic got its hooks in me during my last time in Drarry fandom. It's pretty unrelenting. I haven't re-read it in a long time but it's still rattling around my brain.

Gathering Home by Quietlemonhush (Wolfstar, 20/?, 74k, Explicit)

Remus flipped the light on and sucked in a breath as he looked over his classroom, as neat and tidy as he had left it the day before. The room exuded warmth, colorful and bright, playmats on the floor and books stacked up along the walls, little boxes of crayons on all of the tables. By the end of the day, ten kindergarteners would arrive to what was functionally their second home, to once again tear it to smithereeens. Eleven, Remus corrected himself—four months into the school year, a new student was joining their class.

Remus shouldn’t be attracted to Sirius Hill, not when Remus is responsible for teaching his five-year-old little brother to read and count, and especially not with that mysterious baby strapped to Sirius’s chest. He shouldn’t. He isn’t. He is not.

Really.

This canon-divergent, trans!Sirius raising Regulus und Harry fic is both a comfort fic and a story hurting my heart in the worst ways. Every single thing this little Reggie says hurts every one of my feelings, and Sirius is trying so damn hard to take care of his boys, and then there is Remus and his mother, who are both so bloody lovely I can't stand it.

marginalia (266547 words) by @spindrifters (Wolfstar, ensemble, 52/59, Explicit)

This story began a long time ago. That part is already written. Nothing can be done about it now. It began with two young men—barely more than boys—who upended the world, magical and mundane alike. Grindelwald and Dumbledore, glorious leaders of the revolution, who brought wizardkind out of hiding and into the light during those last, violent days of 1899. But a winter's night seventy-seven years later is where things really kick off. Because Remus Lupin knows what to expect when you’ve been sold somewhere new. He knows it better than he ever thought he'd have to by this point. He knows how to survive. And Sirius Black is doing his best to just graduate Hogwarts and get himself and his brother away from this goddamn house. He's got it figured out by now. He has a plan. Neither of them, however, had accounted for the other messing everything up by the mere fact of just existing.   (Or, the one where Sirius is heir to a pureblood first family and Remus is a half-blood servant, but a chance meeting leads to healing old wounds, stumbling into love, and just maybe accidentally kickstarting a revolution.)

For my second WIP and >100k fic, I picked this marvel of world building. I'm only at chapter 28 so I need to catch up before this WIP is no longer a WIP. The breadth of characters, backstory and universe creation is incredible. I often get bored with fics this long, but this one is so immersive and ernest in the best ways. You can tell the author wants to tell this story honestly and truly. It is a pure joy. You probably heard of this story already if you're into Wolfstar. It really is that good. Also, Pigoletta is recording the story as a podfic.

>> rec fest masterlist <<

#drarry #drarry recs #wolfstar #wolfstar recs #hprecfest2023 #acari recs #wolfstar podfic #hp podfic

[drarryspecificrecsdaily]

2023.08.07

Complete fics posted on AO3 this day

1. Just another Friday night by @cavendishbutterfly [E, 3k]

►Harry throws house parties at Grimmauld Place and Draco keeps showing up uninvited

---

Fest/Exchange

1. Hooked by Anonymous [E, 50k]

►It took him one night, one try, to be hooked to his enemy. Every single place, every single fight, drove him mad with temptation. Malfoy’s got a bad reputation but he can’t bring himself to walk away. He knows he shouldn’t touch but he can’t get enough of him. ★ HD Wireless 2023 | @hd-wireless

2. Nature pricks them on to ramp and rage by Anonymous [E, 21k]

►Lord Draco Malfoy may be a young man spending time in Dumbledore’s summer court, but that does not mean he needs to succumb to its licentious frivolity. He carries the burden of his lineage, the shadow of rumours, and the dignity of his betrothal to a good match. He is certainly not fool enough to be distracted by the dark curls and ready grin of the court’s stableboy, who seems to have taken up with every courtier who looks his way. ★ HP Bodice Ripper Fest 2023 | @hp-bodiceripper

3. you're the reason i can't sleep by Anonymous [E, 2k]

►Draco didn't know why he ever thought this would be a good idea. ★ Battleship 2023 - Dungeon Team

#drarry #drarry fanfic #drarry fic rec #harry potter #draco malfoy #daily list #2023 #2023.08

[badacts]

étoile

When life becomes less busy for the Kings of the Alliance, Damen thought they might finally have some time to enjoy each other’s company. This is not what he envisioned. 

Laurent first sees her running across the cobbled yard in front of the stables, chased by several harried men. It’s love at first sight.

Of course, it requires catching her first. Damen watches as he anchors himself deep in his saddle, snagging a trailing rein in one tight fist and heaving to pull her head around. The move sends a snorting confusion of horseflesh scattering across the courtyard but ends with him still astride, his own horse exchanging breath with a sweating chestnut whose saddle is sitting crooked on her back.

She’s a beauty with a finely fluted face, short strong cannons and pasterns, and a flaxen mane that stands against the dark liver of her coat. While Laurent’s horse, the one Damen gifted him, is always polite, she strikes and squeals, her shoe throwing sparks.

“Your majesty!” The horsemaster leading the charge pulls up, panting. “Apologies! She jumped the rail of the menage.” The limping stableboy behind him paints a picture of them parting company during or shortly prior. 

“No matter,” Laurent says, passing the reins of the mare over. “One of Berenger’s, is she?”

“Yes, sire. A proper wild one, she is. Soon I’ll have run out of boys to put on her if she has her way about it.” The mare, as if to prove her point, pins her ears at the boy as he tentatively takes her bridle. 

“What is she called?” Laurent asks.

Unexpectedly, the horsemaster - a bearded man of fifty with crow’s feet deeper than canyons - blushes. “Star, if it pleases you, sire.”

Laurent doesn’t comment on whether it pleases him or not, dismounting his horse and leading her back into her stable before handing her over to the groom. Damen does the same with his own, patting the stallion’s broad neck and allowing him the apple core he’s been carrying in the fold of his sash. His inquisitive whiskery lips gobble the treat eagerly and search Damen’s clothes for others while he’s there.

The escapee is led back to her own stable, pulling faces at the curious horses peering over their doors at her. 

“Curious to name a horse with a blaze Star,” Laurent comments from where he’s leaning against the barn wall, ankles crossed. He’s watching her go.

“Curious,” Damen agrees without looking at the star pin at the breast of Laurent’s fine jacket, his one nod to the adornments expected of a king. Bright blonde hair and a winning temperament - it’s a wonder they don’t call her Princess.

*

“When I said that now things were quieter, perhaps we could do something together,” Damen says, “This wasn’t what I had in mind.”

Laurent’s expression says that no king could want for anything more than to be clinging to the side of a green mare like a burr. His eyes say to Damen in particular that he daren’t suggest otherwise. He wordlessly proffers his ankle, knee bent.

“Would you like me to kneel so you can use me as a stepstool instead?” Damen inquires.

“No,” Laurent says. “I need you to keep a hold of her bridle with your other hand.”

Damen has never broken in a horse. He spent his youth riding horses of varying temperament but only the best quality, and has seen a much greater variation in quality since meeting Laurent, all of which has only given him a conviction that it’s better to pay someone knowledgeable to do the job of training horses well than attempt to do it yourself poorly. Of course, Laurent has more experience in the field than Damen. Somehow that’s not a comfort.

“Am I about to see you thrown across the ring like the stableboys who’ve gone before you?” Damen asks, grasping the ankle anyway.

“Possibly,” Laurent allows. “On three?”

“If you die in a riding accident while I hold the reins, I’m going to be accused of treason.”

“...on three?”

“On three.” At least he made the attempt. “One, two -”

Laurent is easily boosted into the saddle, landing lightly astride. The mare, somewhat to Damen’s surprise, stands like a rock.

“Good girl,” Laurent says, stroking her neck. Her ear flickers back to listen to him. “Let her stand.” 

“I’m impressed she is standing. I was of the impression that she flees at the mere threat of being ridden.”

“I suspect she’s cold-backed. Some are reactive to the weight of the saddle or a rider, particularly when they move. Keep a hold of her.” And with that, he puts his heels lightly to her sides to ask her forward.

It’s lucky he warns Damen, because the second the mare steps forward, it becomes clear that her stillness was not that of calm, but that of a large muscular animal prepared to launch. Her head drops between her knees and she explodes, all four feet off the ground. She attempts to plunge across the yard, only Damen’s grip keeping her turning in a tight circle.

She is athletic. Laurent, whose seat is famed across both Vere and Akielos and also several other countries who value blondes who ride well as much as Damen does, sits the first several bucks easily, and then the ones following after that less easily. The saddle, though girthed tight, is not suited for that degree of acrobatic feat, and begins to slip to the right.

Damen, who is strong, is less strong than a horse. The rein is wrenched from his hand and he hears himself make an alarmed sound at the idea of his lover, who happens to be a king, flung across the menage without his say so.

Laurent, in a whip-quick instance, throws a leg over and pushes himself free of the saddle. It’s clearly a planned maneuvre. Damen, whose mind has already seen Laurent hit the ground and roll to disperse the impact, finds himself instead with an arm around Laurent’s waist in a doomed attempt to catch him. 

Some of the motion is arrested, but Laurent, though slighter than Damen, is moving at a tremendous pace and purposefully relaxed rather than stiff-kneed, and Damen is hardly braced appropriately. What would have likely been a skilled show of athletic ability and horsemanship is instead an uncontrolled fall onto the sand of the menage. Damen lands first, on his back: Laurent lands on top of him.

“I employed the right man for the job,” Laurent says in the stillness after the earth has stopped spinning. Damen, who has had the breath driven out of him, says nothing. The mare is still audibly cavorting close by, her desire to jump the fence and return to the stables halted by the cunning edition of an extra pair of railings to add height.

“You don’t pay me,” Damen wheezes, eventually. There’s a hand cautiously testing the integrity of his rib cage and he can’t enjoy it because there’s sand in his chiton. He sits up, swiping his hair from his face. Laurent looks very slightly repentant, though it could be Damen’s imagination. Mostly he looks pink-cheeked and dusty as he crouches on his heels at Damen’s side.

There’s a heave of breath like a sigh from nearby. The mare, given up on the idea of freedom, has wandered back over to investigate them. She looks sweet as honey with her ears pricked and her saddle now markedly crooked.

Laurent looks back at her, head tilted. “I see we have our work cut out for us.”

#captive prince #lamen #horse girl laurent #my fic #i haven't written in like two years but whatever have this dumb business #also i know nothing about how they broke horses in historically but i'm guessing it's the same as how we do it now #and i DO know how to break in a horse (i did it professionally for many years) #laurent has chestnut mare vibes

[angelsanddaisies]

Stablehand!Harry x Princess!Reader

Stablehand!Harry x Princess!Reader Warnings: Swearing. Some steam towards the end.

Word Count: 4k

Enemies to Lovers

Gist: Harry doesn't know what to say and Y/N loves how Harry makes her feel

Read Part One Part Three

Renamed: Love Alone

PART TWO

It had been a week since Y/N had whispered the words that haunted Harry each night.

“Well Harry, what I mean to say is, I would quite like it if you fucked me.”

He shuddered, jarring himself from his thoughts and into the present, where he was slicing a fresh loaf of bread and had just barely missed the tips of his fingers.

Harry had taken matters into his own hands, determined to avoid Princess Y/N by any means necessary. Which led to his current predicament; working in the village bakery, packaging a fresh, sliced loaf of pumpkin pecan brioche for a customer.

Harry had been forced to take on this job right after he’d been forced to change his hours at the stables. Y/N had been relentless in her pursuit. Flouncing around his work space in those ridiculous, audacious satin dresses. Sometimes she would come down to the stables under the guise of wanting to go for a ride, a ride Harry was obligated to accompany her on. Other times she was shameless enough to not even provide an excuse. Those times she would sneak up behind him and rasp her proposition again. “Have you considered my proposal, Harry? I’m getting awfully tired of waiting. I do believe that I am aching for you. ”

Harry’s silence was his only resort. The last time he responded to her, he'd walked right into the current mess. He couldn’t understand her behaviour. The only thing that made sense to him was that she was awfully bored, immaturely rebellious and just plain cruel.

After the first few days of failed attempts at avoiding Princess Y/N during the day, he found that the only way he would be able to get away from her is if he went somewhere she wasn’t permitted to go. So he asked his uncle for part-time job at his bakery and groomed the horses on the odd days and sometimes evenings. When Harry wasn’t working he would still go to the village and meander about. He actually liked his walks. The village was a different type of lively during the day. Old women bartered in the markets. Young children chased each other through the streets, gently scolded by the adults around.

It was a nice addition to his life. He had the best of both worlds. He still had his peaceful sessions with the horses at the stables, and wonderfully pleasant afternoons in the village. Best of all, no Princess Y/N.

The next day, Harry woke particularly refreshed. He’d slept well, the best sleep he’d had in ages. His room was small but cozy. A few summers ago, Harry had built a small cottage in the clearing near the stables. It was convenient, private, his.

Harry's bed was softer than most common-folk because Harry was resourceful, if he does say so himself. He’d traded a few horseshoes he’d refurbished for some sheep’s wool and created a makeshift mattress and pillow.

This morning Harry felt warm. So warm that he didn’t even want to move. He felt a shape molded into him, supplying the heat. The figure was burrowed deep beneath the blankets, against his chest. Harry wiped the sleep from his eyes to see that the figure moved with the intake and outtake of breath.

Goose.

Typical. Even after Harry had made sure to secure some wool to make Goose his own bed, the ruffian still thought to cuddle up with him.

Harry stretched, trying to detangle himself from the figure. He groaned.“Goose…I thought we were over this. No sleeping on the bed.”

Goose barked.

Not from beside Harry but from across the room, lying on his own bed. Harry’s eyes bugged out, staring at Goose in horror.

Goose just yawned.

Harry flipped over to straddle the figure and rip the blankets off.

“Good morning, Harry.”

Princess Y/N was snuggled up in his bed. Princess Y/N in his bed.

She smiled up at him, brushing the loose tendril of her curls from her face. “You sleep like a baby. Cooing and everything. Don’t worry, I found it to be truly adorable.”

Harry hated that his face heated or that he couldn’t muster a verbal reaction. He just kept staring at her eyes. They seemed less round in the morning, but still striking as ever. Her voice was deeper in the than usual and drew him in. Then became aware of his position on top of her. He was on top of Princess Y/N. She felt…soft. Nice? His eyes trailed down from her face to the rest of her. She was wearing a silk chemise. It molded to her chest too perfectly and left nothing to imagination.

“I could help you with that…” Y/N placed her hands on each one of Harry’s thighs, slowly moving up. “It would be my pleasure. Yours too, I imagine.” Harry looked down to see she was referencing his morning wood. He was aroused...straddling Princess Y/N...in his bed…

Harry backed off the bed as if it were on fire, hitting the floor with a thud.

“You need to leave.” Harry tried to make his voice sound assertive but felt it probably came off pleading, given his condition.

Y/N sighed, disappointed.

She’d been chasing Harry down all week. Employed all of her best tricks. The barmaid dresses. The constant innuendos.

No luck. And then Harry had started to disappear during the day. At first she’d been terribly worried that something had happened or that she’d driven him away from the castle completely.

Then Molly told her that he’d gotten a day job in the village. She’d been impressed. He’d found a place that she would have a very difficult time reaching.

Y/N had snuck out to the village a few times but never during the day, when her parents could possibly call upon her. Sadly for Harry, she’d convinced her parents to take a tour through the nearby villages, to strengthen morale and all that sorts. That left her free to do as she pleased until they came back in a month or so. Perfect amount of time seduce Harry.

If she was completely honest with herself, it wasn’t just a physical attraction she had for Harry. Y/N genuinely liked him.

At first she was mostly intrigued. Y/N was used to being loved by everyone, whether for her position or at their sincerity. Harry had shown the minimum due respect. Not even a pleasantry here or there. She’d watched him interact with others and seen that he didn’t have a certain animosity towards her but that it was just his personality. He was quiet in group settings. He was methodical in his work. He seemed thoughtful and kind in the deeds he did without mention. Y/N once saw him run up the hill from the stables to help Mr. Harlow, an elderly gardener, and carry a bucket of water to his station. Harry had then gone and retrieved six more buckets so that Mr. Harlow wouldn’t have to worry about it in the future. He'd continued to do so since then. And in all the interactions she saw Harry have with the older man, no more than a few words had been said on his part.

Those were only a few of the reasons Y/N liked Harry. A large chunk of her feelings for him stemmed from the fact that Harry was lonely, just like her. She could see it, feel it. They shared the same type of loneliness. The one that follows you to bed and keeps you up at night. The one that makes you feel cold even on a sunny day. The one that leaves you feeling hungry, unsatisfied even on a full stomach. Y/N was an only child whose parents only really spoke to her when there were guests or to criticize her behaviour. Sometimes she felt like they couldn’t wait to marry her off.

The staff were kind to her, always doting on her even when she was trying to help them. The problem was, Y/N was never sure whether or not their behaviour was genuine or out of fear. Even Molly, Y/N’s closest friend, was careful with her words around her. Molly would never even laugh around Y/N. She’d even stifle her smiles.

Y/N lied when she told Harry that Molly had been the one who revealed his rendezvous with Ramona. In actuality, Y/N had had to resort to eavesdropping to find out. No one ever spoke honestly around her.

So it was safe to say that Y/N was lonely. The peculiar thing was that when she was with Harry, that hollow ache in her tummy seemed to ease. That chill dissipated and her body filled with warmth. Y/N figured that the two of them could be lonely together, if only for a little while.

----

Harry trudged down the hill, past the gates of the castle grounds and towards the village. He jogged, trying to keep an even pace to get Princess Y/N off his back. She was skipping behind him, humming a tune and keeping up with him seemingly easily.

As they reached the outskirts of the village, Harry finally stopped and decided he had to at least try and dissuade to her. Y/N stopped much too close for his liking.

“Where to, my liege?”

Harry’s jaw ticked. He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself before finally speaking to her. “Your Highness, the village is not a place you are meant to trapeze without care. I have other commitments and will not be able to guard you,”

He thought he phrased that politely enough.

“Don’t worry about little old me. I doubt anyone in the village knows what I look like. I’ll just be another maiden to them.” Y/N clapped her hands around Harry’s forearm, grinning. “How exciting!”

Harry saw there was no shaking her. She would probably get bored sitting in the bakery all day and leave. Maybe he could get his uncle to kick her out for loitering. That sounded like the best case scenario to him.

They entered the bakery and Y/N was immediately entranced. The seating area was small, and cozy with a lit fireplace. There was a display of an array of sweets; pain au chocolate, tarts, shortbread, loaves, cakes. She was in heaven and she was never leaving. Y/N was so distracted by the food that she almost missed Harry head behind the counter and towards the double doors in the corner. When she tried to follow him he simply shut the counter bridge between them and gave her a cheshire smile. He waved a single finger and said, “Employees only.”

Harry walked away, disappearing behind the doors.

Usually Y/N would take that as a challenge but Harry had just smiled at her for the first time and, well, she needed a moment to compose herself.

Y/N made herself comfortable by the fire, in an armchair by the window. She fiddled with her fingers, feeling a little nervous and out of place. A few minutes later, a small, stout man came from behind the double doors, and walked briskly past the counter bridge and over to the front door to flip the open sign. Upon turning around, he noticed Y/N.

“How did you get in here?” His voice was rough, loud. Though it rang in the quiet room, it seemed to be his natural speaking voice. He looked Y/N up and down, eying her suspiciously and taking a defensive stance.

Y/N stood up to greet him properly. She outstretched her hand and rushed out, “I'm a friend of Harry’s. I asked him if I could accompany him to work today. I do hope that it's okay with you. I'm new to the village and he has been so kind to me. I feel lost without him.”

At his hesitation Y/N grabbed his hand and shook it with vigour throughout her ramble.

The old man, taken aback, took his hand back and said, “I see…”

“Said the blind man, to the deaf mute.” Y/N chuckled at her own joke but stopped short when she noticed he remained silent. A moment passed. It was tense.

And then he laughed. He doubled over, he was laughing so hard. Relieved, Y/N joined in.

“Yer alright, girlie. My mum used to tell that same joke to m’Da.” He slapped Y/N on the back with his large paw, it shook her but she still beamed.

“What’s so funny?” Harry joined them from behind the double doors, he held a tray freshly baked bread. The old man immediately schooled his light expression.

“Yer girl is alright, boy. I’m Cyrus by the way, dear. You’re welcome to stay for a bit.” Cyrus walked away but eyed Harry who was visibly troubled by this development.

“Ya got somethin' ya wanna say, boy?” Cyrus had to look up Harry and yet still managed to look menacing.

Harry looked over at Y/N who had returned to the chair by the fire. She winked at him.

“Nothing.” Harry sighed. This was going to be a long day.

—-

By mid-morning, the bakery was so crowded that Y/N had to give up her spot to actual customers. She crawled underneath the counter and came up behind the display.

“You can’t come behind here, employees only, remember?” Harry tried to usher her out but she crawled between his legs and dipped past him into the kitchen. She found Cyrus there in the midst of preparing a tray of muffins. She’d already tried a few of those this morning when Harry begrudgingly brought her a plate. They were airy, moist, with the perfect amount of crips on top and custard filling within.

“What are ya doin back here, girlie?” He didn’t look up from his work to acknowledge her.

“I’ve been watching Harry all morning and he seems a bit tired. I was wondering if I could help him. Voluntarily, of course, so no payment necessary. Think of it as a thank you for your hospitality this morning.”

Cyrus looked up to see her pleading expression. He said nothing. He just wiped his hands and took an apron off one of the wall hooks and handed it to her.

Y/N couldn't help a small jump in victory. “Thank you! You won’t regret this.” Cyrus provided only a grunt in response.

When Harry saw Y/N come out from behind those kitchen doors in a frumpy little apron that looked more like a burlap sack, he wanted to scream. Y/N saddled up next to him. The rush had just ended and the bakery was mostly empty again.

“Looks like we are coworkers. Can’t wait for you to show me the ropes... if you know what I mean."

—

It had been six days since Y/N had begun working with Harry at the bakery. Six agonizing days. First she’d altered her apron to fit beneath her corset and flare at her round hips. Then she’d made matters worse by actually being a good employee. She was always on time and kind to cranky customers. Y/N was diligent in cleaning and preparing the display. She took pleasure in every task that came her way. Harry hated to admit it but he kind of liked working with her. When they were together behind that counter, and she teased him or gave a child a sample, he forgot that she was a princess and he was a stableboy.

He was annoyed with some of the attention she got. Particularly from a few of the men who began to frequent the bakery several times a day and spent more time examining her chest than they did picking out the bread they bought.

Y/N would laugh at their charming jokes and even exchanged names with a “Ryan”. Harry tried to convince himself that he wasn’t bothered by the way she smiled at them or how relieved he felt when she propositioned him again after they left. "So how do you wanna take me? Apron on or off?"

Today had been more busy than usual and Harry could tell Y/N was a bit burnt out by the end of it. She was trudging behind him at a slow pace up the hill on their way home.

Don’t. Don’t. She’ll get the wrong idea. Don’t.

He did.

Harry turned around and stopped Y/N. She looked up at him tiredly. “What’s wrong?”

Harry knelt down and gave her his back. “Get on.”

Harry stared down at the grass, waiting for her. After a few moments, he felt her small tentative hands touch his shoulders. Her legs came around on either side of him. He immediately gripped them and swung her onto his back.

Y/N was stiff for a bit but eventually relaxed onto him.

“Thank you, Harry.” She murmured.

He grunted and stalked up the hill.

By the time they reached the castle grounds, Y/N was fast asleep on Harry’s back. He considered his options. He could wake her and let her walk the rest of the way up to the castle and her bedroom. Or he could let her sleep and give her his bed tonight.

Fuck me.

Harry gently placed Y/N on his bed. He removed her shoes and tucked her in, making sure that her feet were bundled and warm.

Harry was tired too and would have to sleep with Goose on the floor tonight. He looked down at Y/N, curled up in his bed. He took the opportunity to really look at her. She had pillowy lips and a cute little nose that flared a bit at the intakes of breath. She was so beautiful. The most beautiful girl he’d ever seen. With the prettiest eyes, the smoothest voice, and the loveliest laugh he’d ever heard. She was gentle with strangers, people who had no idea that she was royalty. So small but so fierce.

Perfect.

Strange.

Harry couldn’t understand her infatuation with him. He was nothing. A stableboy. A part-time baker. She could have anyone. Someone more educated than him, someone more powerful and richer. It had to be a game to her. A challenge to distract her, to entertain her.

He couldn’t let himself forget that he was nothing more than a plaything to her.

---

They didn’t have work the next day or the one after that. Y/N hadn’t come down to the stables once.

She didn’t meet Harry at the gates to go to work on the third morning. Or the fourth. Or the fifth. Harry hated how sick he felt, wondering if she’d finally grown tired of him. Maybe he let his pride get the best of him. Maybe he should have taken her up on that offer. At least then he would have had no regrets. Just one taste of what it could be like if things were real.

Harry sat on the grass outside his cottage. He watched Goose run around, trying to catch the fireflies.

And then he saw her. Y/N came into the clearing. She wore a plain dress today. She stopped a ways from Harry.

“I tried to stay away. Give you some space.”

Her voice was small. Her words held no conviction. Her eyes wouldn’t hold Harry’s, they looked away, everywhere but at him.

“I think maybe I was trying to prove to myself that I could.... But I missed you.”

Y/N took a few steps closer after being greeted by Goose.

“I barged into your life. Hassled you. Annoyed you. I kept thinking that you would eventually warm up to me. You ignore me most of the time but other times you do something incredibly sweet that gives me hope. You brought me food that I know is docked from your pay. You carried me when I was tired and gave me your bed.” Y/N took a deep breath, trying to steady her voice that kept cracking under her toiling emotions. For the first time, she was afraid of his silence.

Harry stood up from the grass but didn’t say anything. Not to ignore her but because he wasn’t sure what to say or where this was going.

“I won’t bother you anymore. I’ll leave you alone, I promise. I know you and everyone else think I’m pathetic. And I was okay with that until I started to think it too."

Harry couldn’t believe she’d said that. Y/N? Pathetic? He’d had that much power over her, that he could make her feel that way?

“I am here because I need you to tell me something so I can let you go. Did you–.” Y/N couldn’t look at him saying this. She braced herself for the heartbreak of his inevitable answer.

“Did you miss me too? Even a little?”

Y/N clenched her fists, her nails bit into her palms, her eyes stayed glued to the ground. She waited and waited for a response until it felt like she would explode from the breath she held.

“God! Will you just say something for onc-” She was cut off by Harry crashing into her, taking her into his arms. He gently took her face in his hands and looked deep into her eyes when he said, “Yes. I missed you, Y/N. So much.”

He swallowed her smile with a groan when he brought her in for a kiss. Their lips fit together as he tilted her head to kiss her properly. This kiss was urgent, real. He poured all of the words he couldn’t say into it when he pulled her closer, sucked on her bottom lip. He hoisted her up, helping her body mold into his before guiding them to the ground. Harry hovered above her before slotting himself between thighs. He felt her, there and couldn't help but rock his hips against her.

Y/N pulled away, gasping for air. “Harry..” She moaned when he licked into her mouth, tasting her. Meshing their tongues together. He gripped her hair and pulled to expose her neck. Harry kissed her gently, trying to calm himself down. All the pent-up lust he had was expelling and he didn’t want to move too fast before he told her how he felt. Her hands slotted through his curls, tightening when he kissed a sensitive spot.

Harry pulled back to look at her. He cradled her cheek, taking in how flushed she was. Y/N looked more gorgeous than ever with swollen lips that glistened in the moonlight.

“I missed you. I missed everything about you. Your laugh. Your light. Your humour. Your company. I didn’t realize how alone I was until I felt your absence." Harry couldn't help but place another kiss on those lips that had teased him for so long. Against them he said, "If you'll still have me, I’m yours.”

---

I"M SORRY! I couldn't write the spicy scenes today it just wasn't flowing so I scrapped it. I didn't want to leave you hanging for too long though. In the next one you can expect.

- More spice I promise. For real this time.

xx. Daisy

P. S --- I feel like there are some mistakes in there that I didn't catch. I'm sorry!! My eyes are burning. If anyone is awake they can read this and I'll read/post again when I'm fresh in the morning.

UPDATE: Read Part Three

@happycupcakeenthusiast :)

Should I make a tag list?

#harry x princess!reader #harry styles #harry styles au #harry styles fic #harry styles x reader #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles angst #harry styles smut #prince!harry #prince!harry x reader #prince harry styles #stableboy!harry #stableboy!harry x princess!reader #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfic

[sunflowervolvimp3]

Holy shit. You did princess bride and now I need cheeky harry saving y/n and sword fighting 😭

ugh okay i know you meant this one way but i thought of it another way and now i HAVE to write it. also please note this is like a prequel to my last blurb!!! i think it works better if its set before they like each other

...

“You could thank me, you know!”

You huff as you stomp quickly through the forest, keeping your gaze firmly on the path in front of you.  You refuse to respond to Harry, and instead just walk faster.

“Hey!” Harry calls from behind you again, his voice closer. “The least you could do is thank me for saving you!”

That catches your attention. “Saving me?” You stop walking abruptly, whipping around to look at him. “I didn’t need saving!  I didn’t need your help!”

Harry stops walking as he catches up to you. “Yes, you did.  Those men were practically dragging you back to their ship--”

“I was perfectly fine!” You say hotly. “I had it under control!”

“No, you didn’t!” Harry barks out a laugh, shaking his head. “You didn’t! So I helped, and I rescued you, so you owe me a thank you!”

On some level, you know he’s right.  And that’s what frustrates you the most. “You’re infuriating!” You yell as you turn on your heel, storming away again.

“Bloody hell, Y/N!” Harry chases after you again, this time getting in front of you.  He’s still breathless from the fight, his sword still dangling by his hip after he fought the three sailors. “I’m infuriating?  You’re ridiculous!”

You keep walking, him following you and trying to talk as you make your way back to your farm.  You ignore him until you reach the clearing right by the edge of the woods. 

“Fine, Harry!” You whip around to look at him. “Fine!  I couldn’t defend myself!  I needed you to save me!”

Harry groans, running a hand through his hair. “That’s not what I meant, Y/N--”

“But the only reason I couldn’t defend myself is because I was never taught to!” You continue, motioning down to your dress. “Look at this!  I was never taught how to fight!  No one ever gave me a sword, or even showed me how to use one!  If I had the same training you did, I could’ve taken care of myself!”

Harry stops, his face softening as you speak. “But that’s just...it’s...”

“Oh, don’t tell me that’s how things are.” You say wryly, rolling your eyes. “It’s ridiculous.  Everyone thinks women are so vulnerable, but no one will let us defend ourselves!  Women wouldn’t seem so vulnerable if we could act like men!”

“You’re right.” Harry says, his voice low.  He sighs again, looking down. “You’re right.  But even experienced swordsmen have trouble taking on three opponents who are twice their size.”

You can’t meet his eyes now, embarrassment at your outburst setting in. “I know.”

Harry walks towards you, touching your arm gently. “I just want you to be safe.  I--” He sucks in a breath. “I don’t want to think about what would’ve happened if I weren’t there.”

“Neither do I.” You whisper.  Now that your anger has subsided, the fright you felt is hitting you. “I don’t know what they would have done with me.”

“I do.” Harry’s lips press into a firm line. “And it wouldn’t have been good.”

You clear your throat. “Thank you, Harry.  For...protecting me.”

He shakes his head, rubbing your arm lightly. “Don’t.  It’s alright.  If...” Harry hesitates for a moment, licking his lips quickly. “If you’d like, I could...teach you a bit about sword fighting.”

Your eyes widen as you look up at him in shock. “Really?”

Harry nods. “Yes.  If I finish my duties early some days, I could teach you a bit about it.  Just in case.”

A small grin grows on your face. “I would love that, Harry.  I’d really appreciate it.”

“Alright.” He nods, his eyes flickering to your lips for a moment. 

You notice it, and you swallow hard as your cheeks heat up. “We should get back to the farm, before my father wonders what’s taking so long.” You pause. “You won’t tell him about this, will you?  He won’t let me leave the farm for months if he knows. I don’t want that.”

Harry sighs, closing his eyes for a moment. “As you wish.”

#stableboy!harry #harryblurb #harry styles blurb #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagines #harry styles fic #one direction fanfiction #one direction fic #one direction imagine #anonymous #ask

[mendesxruel]

𝑳𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒃𝒖𝒈 | 𝑱𝒂𝒎𝒆𝒔 𝑷𝒐𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒓

summary; you ride your horse with stableboy!james but something goes wrong...

warnings; fluff!, mentions of pain

words; 613

a/n; this is part of a royalty au series that @sarahisslytherin , @velvetcloxds , and i are doing!

masterlist/navigation.

Today was a foggy day in the castle. Despite the slightly cold weather, you couldn’t help but go outside to appreciate the view. The subtle grey blur covering the charming dark green trees made your eyes glint in awe.

Your alone moment didn’t last too long since James, the boy who took care of the royal horses, approached you.

“Looks amazing, doesn’t it?” you asked him.

He couldn’t take his eyes off you when he replied, “yes... really pretty.”

James was of course not talking about the landscape, but rather the lovely face he was looking at.

“D’you wanna go for a ride?” he asked, holding out his hand.

You agreed and grabbed it, letting him lead the way.

He took you to the stable, where all the horses were. Some of them were eating, others were just happy to see you there. Your horse, Maximus, was excited to see you. You stroked his face and felt his soft fur in between your fingers and he loved it, he always did.

“Let’s have a ride, Max?” you smiled at him.

The horse nodded his head. 

James was always impressed with how well your horse understood you. He felt like he wanted to have a connection as close as this one, with you. He wished he could understand you and have his feelings reciprocated, although for now, he just wanted to enjoy his time with you as much as he could, and not rush anything, afraid of ruining it. 

Both of you got on your horses and rode away into the foggy forest. You were trotting and just enjoying the stunning scenery around you. Rays of sunlight cut through the leaves, making it a bit more difficult to see, because of the fog. 

You didn’t notice, but a wolf appeared up ahead. Maximus saw it and instinctively ran away scared. You, somehow still managed to stay on your horse, until he suddenly braked and pranced, making you fall.

James stopped his horse beside you and quickly got off to help you.

“Are you alright?” he asked, and you could sense the worry in his voice.

“No,” you cried. Your foot felt like it was on fire from the pain. James helped you stand up and put you on the saddle of his horse. He got on his horse and placed your arms around his waist so you wouldn’t fall again, and grabbed Max's rein to lead him back to the castle with both of you.

You laid your head on James’ back and it felt very comfortable, despite your aching foot. It even felt like the pain was slowly going away, so you assumed you hadn’t broken it.

When you finally arrived at the castle, James picked you up and took you to your room.

He put you in your bed and covered you with your warm blankets.

“I’ll be right back,” he told you and rushed off your room.

Your foot still hurt quite a bit, yet the sheets made you feel cozy.

Shortly after, he came back into your room, with bandages on his hand and some ice. He uncovered your foot and gently started wrapping it with the white elastic fabric, making sure he was not hurting you. After that, he put the pack of ice on top of it and covered it with the blankets again.

He sat in a chair beside your bed and looked at you.

“How are you feeling?”

“Better now…” you stated, “thank you for helping me, by the way.”

James grinned weakly at you, “no problem.”

His smile always made you feel better. Maybe he meant something more to you, than just a stableboy friend.

please reblog if you liked it!<3

—*ૢ✧james potter taglist: @sir1usblacksgf @jamespotterslover @leossmoonn @lolas-reblogs @nee-naw-nee-naw-beepbeep @the-second-tonks @chxrry-nightshade @pinkcloxds @peachybaes @starkeysslut @nothingnewtvmp3 @sarahisslytherin @enchqnting @darknoire @weaselbrownie @catching-the-train-to-hogwarts @anderperrysupremacy @wrathspoet

#james potter #james potter x reader #james potter x y/n #james potter x gender neutral reader #james potter fluff #james potter fic #stableboy!james potter #horses #royalty!au #james potter royalty au #harry potter #marauders #marauders fluff #marauders royalty au #marauders fic #marauders fanfic #james potter fanfic #james potter fanfiction #the marauders #the marauders fanfiction #james potter fancast #potter #fanfic #fluff #james potter x fem!reader

[sarahisslytherin]

Being caught with stableboy!james by your father and you're literally fighting for this man's life djsmg

"Papa, I love him!" you exclaim, tears threatening to spill over as you beg the king not to have James sent away. "I want to spend the rest of my life with him."

It's the tears that streaks down your cheek that has your father releasing a conflicted sigh.

"He's a stablehand, darling." he says, not sure whether to be aking or a father in this moment.

"Please." you ask once more.

"I'll turn a blind eye." he says at last, finally giving in, "But it's your responsibilty to make sure no one finds out about this. Be careful."

"Thank you! Thank you!" you exclaim, wrapping your arms around him before rushing to tell James the good news.

"And if he hurts you I'll have him beheaded!"

my dialogue masterlist

#james potter #james potter dialogue #stableboy!james #harry potter dialogue #sarah's dialogues

[narukoibito]

Made-up fic title : Lady Ginevra and the Fallen King (because I wish someone would write a H/G royalty AU)

When King and Queen Potter were found mysteriously murdered, their trusted adviser, Tom Riddle took the seat of the crown, given that no one could find baby prince Harry. While many challenged Riddle’s ascension (a mere commoner!), he claimed that he was actually a descendant of another royal line. Additionally, he had much support from the old guard, who had become charmed by Riddle and how much their financial well-being was tied to previous business with him.

At age 16, lady Ginevra travels to join her brothers at the royal court. She’s not really looking forward to becoming a lady in waiting. What she really wants to become a part of the knight’s guard. Between annoying court sessions, dance parties, sewing and hemming lessons, she steals away, exploring the castle trying to find places to practice her sword-fighting.

One day, she comes across some less savory courtiers (Sir Draco Malfoy and his goons), and in her attempts to escape them, she accidentally falls into what seems to be an elaborate set of pipes. When she can’t climb back up, she starts trying to find another way out. Just when she’s at an all-time low, she hears a soft voice, who provides her directions as to how to get out. When she finally is led to an exit, she turns around and thanks her mysterious savior, trying to coax him to reveal himself. He doesn’t, but just before she leaves, the daylight filters in and she sees a pair of startling green eyes before they disappear.

Basically from there, Ginny maps out all these odd pipes and hidden chambers of the castle, eventually discovering the mysterious boy with messy black hair and green eyes. They befriend one another, she finds out how he’s always lived in the shadows of the castle for as long as he can remember, only interacting with two people ever: some wizened old man named Dumbledore and a surly, mean arse with a crooked nose.

Eventually, Ginny puts two and two together.

“You’re a prince, Harry!” 

“I’m a what?”

“A prince.”

“No, I – I’m Harry. Just Harry.” 

Eventually, Ginny shares Harry’s existence with her brothers, her other friends like Neville, Luna, Hermione, etc., they form a resistance, and eventually take on King Riddle and the court in trying to put Harry back into his rightful spot. Lots of romance, angst in Harry originally not being sure how to react to this lovely person that makes his chest roar (what are girls?!), badass sword-fighting (yes, Ginny gets to slay stuff), a Basilisk that Harry saves Ginny from (eh, why not), Riddle being charmingly evil, politicking, and people like Dumbledore and Snape (reluctantly) keeping Harry secretly alive until they could fight back.

How’s that? 

#Harry Potter #Ginny Weasley #Hinny #Harry/Ginny #ask game #fic title meme #the crazy things my brain thinks of #royal au #fanfiction #i thought about making Harry the stableboy #but then i was like oh but these pipes #the chamber of secrets #lol #so here we are #also yes i wrote this just to have the i'm just Harry line

[istumpysk]

Operation Stumpy Re-Read

ASOS: Arya III (Chapter 17)

"We're going the wrong way," she said to Gendry, as they rode past an especially mossy elm. "We're going south. See how the moss is growing on the trunk?"

Ongoing theme of northerners going south, and it being the wrong direction.

+.+.+

There was no use trying to convince the Bull of anything. Still, he was the only true friend she had, now that Hot Pie had left them.

"Sharna says she needs me to bake bread," he'd told her, the day they rode. "Anyhow I'm tired of rain and saddlesores and being scared all the time. There's ale here, and rabbit to eat, and the bread will be better when I make it. You'll see, when you come back. You will come back, won't you?

Yes.

+.+.+

Then it was time to go. When Hot Pie asked if he might kiss milady's hand, she punched his shoulder. "Don't call me that. You're Hot Pie, and I'm Arry."

It's fun to close your eyes and pretend this is one of her fans.

+.+.+

Arya told of Yoren and their escape from King's Landing as well, and much that had happened since, but she left out the stableboy she'd stabbed with Needle, and the guard whose throat she'd cut to get out of Harrenhal. Telling Harwin would be almost like telling her father, and there were some things that she could not bear having her father know.

Is that shame I see? That's good news.

+.+.+

We were so few that all we could do was harry their rear, but we told each other that we'd join up with King Robert when he marched west to crush Lord Tywin's rebellion. Only then we heard that Robert was dead, and Lord Eddard as well, and Cersei Lannister's whelp had ascended the Iron Throne.

"That turned the whole world on its head. We'd been sent out by the King's Hand to deal with outlaws, you see, but now we were the outlaws, and Lord Tywin was the Hand of the King. There was some wanted to yield then, but Lord Beric wouldn't hear of it. We were still king's men, he said, and these were the king's people the lions were savaging. If we could not fight for Robert, we would fight for them, until every man of us was dead. And so we did, but as we fought something queer happened. For every man we lost, two showed up to take his place. A few were knights or squires, of gentle birth, but most were common men—fieldhands and fiddlers and innkeeps, servants and shoemakers, even two septons. Men of all sorts, and women too, children, dogs . . ."

Well, they started out with good intentions. Then it turned into a campaign of revenge.

Hey, did I just describe Arya?

+.+.+

"One of our lads keeps the meanest dogs you'd ever want to see."

"I wish I had a good mean dog," said Arya wistfully. "A lion-killing dog."

Be careful what you wish for, Arya.

Not a lion-killer though, he's far too obedient.

+.+.+

She'd had a direwolf once, Nymeria, but she'd thrown rocks at her until she fled, to keep the queen from killing her. Could a direwolf kill a lion? she wondered.

I don't know, you tell me.

+.+.+

Lem cracked his knuckles and said, "Wouldn't Lord Beric love to capture Jaime Lannister, though . . ."

"Would he hang him, Lem?" one of the village women asked. "It'd be half a shame to hang a man as pretty as that one."

"A trial first!" said Anguy. "Lord Beric always gives them a trial, you know that." He smiled. "Then he hangs them."

I don't think Lady Stoneheart kills him, but the above still feels like spooky foreshadowing.

+.+.+

She dreamt of home; not Riverrun, but Winterfell. It was not a good dream, though. She was alone outside the castle, up to her knees in mud. She could see the grey walls ahead of her, but when she tried to reach the gates every step seemed harder than the one before, and the castle faded before her, until it looked more like smoke than granite. And there were wolves as well, gaunt grey shapes stalking through the trees all around her, their eyes shining. Whenever she looked at them, she remembered the taste of blood.

Arya's morphing into a wolf, and getting further and further from home.

Mud!

+.+.+

Lord Beric Dondarrion. Arya remembered all she'd heard at Harrenhal, from the Lannisters and the Bloody Mummers alike. Lord Beric the wisp o' the wood. Lord Beric who'd been killed by Vargo Hoat and before that by Ser Amory Lorch, and twice by the Mountain That Rides. If he won't send me home maybe I'll kill him too.

You won't kill him, but he'll die for you.

↓

Lord Beric sighed. "Then I will send you to Lady Smallwood for a time, or perhaps to mine own castle of Blackhaven. But that will not be necessary, I'm certain. I do not have the power to give you back your father, no more than Thoros does, but I can at least see that you are returned safely to your mother's arms."

"Do you swear?" she asked him. Yoren had promised to take her home too, only he'd gotten killed instead.

"On my honor as a knight," the lightning lord said solemnly. - Arya VII, ASOS

↓

"The Freys slashed her throat from ear to ear. When we found her by the river she was three days dead. Harwin begged me to give her the kiss of life, but it had been too long. I would not do it, so Lord Beric put his lips to hers instead, and the flame of life passed from him to her. And . . . she rose. May the Lord of Light protect us. She rose." - Brienne VIII, ASOS

Did you know there are living, breathing Arya fans that don't believe Catelyn and Arya are on a collision course? As if a man didn't willing die to honour a promise? Funny.

+.+.+

Captive. Arya took a breath to still her soul. Calm as still water. She glanced at the outlaws on their horses, and turned her horse's head. Now, quick as a snake, she thought, as she slammed her heels into the courser's flank. Right between Greenbeard and Jack-Be-Lucky she flew, and caught one glimpse of Gendry's startled face as his mare moved out of her way. And then she was in the open field, and running.

North or south, east or west, that made no matter now. She could find the way to Riverrun later

Words to live by? :D

+.+.+

A stream barred her way. She splashed down into it, through water choked with wet brown leaves. Some clung to her horse's legs as they climbed the other side. The undergrowth was thicker here, the ground so full of roots and rocks that she had to slow, but she kept as good a pace as she dared. Another hill before her, this one steeper. Up she went, and down again. How big are these woods? she wondered.

[...]

I need to find the fields again. I need to find a road. Instead she found a game trail. It was narrow and uneven, but it was something. She raced along it, branches whipping at her face. One snagged her hood and yanked it back, and for half a heartbeat she feared they had caught her. A vixen burst from the brush as she passed, startled by the fury of her flight. The game trail brought her to another stream. Or was it the same one? Had she gotten turned around? There was no time to puzzle it out, she could hear their horses crashing through the trees behind her. Thorns scratched at her face like the cats she used to chase in King's Landing. Sparrows exploded from the branches of an alder. But the trees were thinning now, and suddenly she was out of them. Broad level fields stretched before her, all weeds and wild wheat, sodden and trampled. Arya kicked her horse back to a gallop. Run, she thought, run for Riverrun, run for home. Had she lost them? She took one quick look, and there was Harwin six yards back and gaining. No, she thought, no, he can't, not him, it isn't fair.

What is this? Is it just me, or is this describing something else?

+.+.+

Both horses were lathered and flagging by the time he came up beside her, reached over, and grabbed her bridle. Arya was breathing hard herself then. She knew the fight was done. "You ride like a northman, milady," Harwin said when he'd drawn them to a halt. "Your aunt was the same. Lady Lyanna. But my father was master of horse, remember."

Interesting info dump we're getting seven chapters before Bran II, ASOS.

You know what's kind of upsetting? Arya just attempted to flee from people she thought were her friends, was recaptured, then immediately compared to Lyanna. So, yeah.

+.+.+

The look she gave him was full of hurt. "I thought you were my father's man."

"Lord Eddard's dead, milady. I belong to the lightning lord now, and to my brothers."

"What brothers?" Old Hullen had fathered no other sons that Arya could remember.

Am I looking at a conversation between Jon and Arya?

+.+.+

That he was not Robb's man, she understood well enough. And that she was his captive. I could have stayed with Hot Pie. We could have taken the little boat and sailed it up to Riverrun. She had been better off as Squab. No one would take Squab captive, or Nan, or Weasel, or Arry the orphan boy. I was a wolf, she thought, but now I'm just some stupid little lady again.

Final thoughts:

Harwin knows Arya is alive. Harwin currently serves Lady Stoneheart.

-> return to menu <-

#operation stumpy re-read #asos #arya iii

[kellyvela]

Has GRRM ever said in any interview or on his blog that he hates Sansa's complete storyline after 4th season? I dont really follow all of his fan/media interactions but from what I can recall he has spoken abt how LF in books wont give sansa to ramsay or how noone had issue when Jeyne was given the Ramsay storyline in books etc. Asking this question to you bcs you rightly point out how ppl misunderstood his interviews/posts ( sansans/targ stans etc) & I cant recall him ever saying he 'hates' sansa's story in the later seasons of the show ( not s5 in particular but even s6 to s8).

Capclave 2013:

A change that has repercussions for season 4 is Marillion’s tongue removal from the first season. Martin said that the change was made (from an anonymous singer being the victim of a de-tonguing) because they wanted Joffrey to maim someone the audience would recognize. He believes this is an issue because of the part the singer plays in Sansa’s storyline, how he affects her interactions with others in the book, and he doesn’t believe another character will be fulfilling that role on Game of Thrones.

—GRRM talks season 4 & beyond - Winter is Coming - October 13, 2013

2014 Fan Reports about Capclave 2013 (*):

In a convention panel this year, George said on the record that he had no idea what they were doing with Sansa or where they’re taking her storyline, which now makes sense perhaps. He was not pleased when he was talking about it, so who knows what’s going to happen with her! Knowing GRRM, that could mean they’re going off the canon reservation, and/or that they’re going to be making a lot of shit up

I have notes I’ll be responding to (thanks!) but enough people commented about Sansa that I thought I’d share that tidbit, since it happened back in September iirc (was the same panel where he criticized the exclusion of Tyrell brothers)

—starkalypse - June 3, 2014

GRRM’s comments at capclave about Sansa (which I was in the third row for, for those asking about legitimacy) were among others during the panel that had a general theme of dissatisfaction with show changes. He was not in good spirits for that con and didn’t really have anything positive to say regarding the show. So take it with a grain of salt; there are deviations away from the books in the episodes he gets writers credit for, so maybe they’re doing something stupid or they really don’t have a gameplan!

—starkalypse - June 4, 2014

(*) These reports were posted in June 2014, during the airing of Game of Thrones Season 4, about Capclave 2013 that happened in October 2013.

Just after the rape episode:

How many children did Scarlett O’Hara have? Three, in the novel. One, in the movie. None, in real life: she was a fictional character, she never existed. The show is the show, the books are the books; two different tellings of the same story.

There have been differences between the novels and the television show since the first episode of season one. And for just as long, I have been talking about the butterfly effect. Small changes lead to larger changes lead to huge changes. HBO is more than forty hours into the impossible and demanding task of adapting my lengthy (extremely) and complex (exceedingly) novels, with their layers of plots and subplots, their twists and contradictions and unreliable narrators, viewpoint shifts and ambiguities, and a cast of characters in the hundreds.

There has seldom been any TV series as faithful to its source material, by and large (if you doubt that, talk to the Harry Dresden fans, or readers of the Sookie Stackhouse novels, or the fans of the original WALKING DEAD comic books)… but the longer the show goes on, the bigger the butterflies become. And now we have reached the point where the beat of butterfly wings is stirring up storms, like the one presently engulfing my email.

Prose and television have different strengths, different weaknesses, different requirements.

David and Dan and Bryan and HBO are trying to make the best television series that they can.

And over here I am trying to write the best novels that I can.

And yes, more and more, they differ. Two roads diverging in the dark of the woods, I suppose… but all of us are still intending that at the end we will arrive at the same place.

In the meantime, we hope that the readers and viewers both enjoy the journey. Or journeys, as the case may be. Sometimes butterflies grow into dragons.

—The Show, the Books - Not A Blog - May 18, 2015

Report about the last Game of Thrones Script that GRRM wrote:

No Wedding for Sansa and Ramsay: Without question, one of the most controversial changes the show made in trying to streamline the books was by slotting Sansa into the role of Ramsay’s wife and rape victim in Season 5. In the books, Ramsay marries and assaults Sansa’s best childhood friend, Jeyne Poole—who is being forced to impersonate Arya—instead. (You can actually see Jeyne briefly sitting next to Sansa in the show’s pilot.)

At the time Martin wrote this script, though, substituting Sansa for Jeyne was not yet the plan. Martin has Roose Bolton tell his bastard son: “We have a much better match in mind for you. A match to help House Bolton hold the north. Arya Stark.” It should be noted, however, that in Martin’s script, Sansa isn’t free from menace either. At his own wedding-day breakfast, Joffrey still threatens to rape the older Stark sister—once he’s “gotten Margaery with child.”)

—Game of Thrones: The Secrets of George R.R. Martin’s Final Script - Vanity Fair - December 7, 2018

A month before the Game of Throne S8 Finale:

Sansa’s story, in particular, has really deviated from the books. Ramsay Bolton — that marriage obviously was with a different character. When they start deviating like that, did you initially have any emotional reaction, even though you worked in Hollywood for many years yourself?

GRRM: Well, yeah — of course you have an emotional reaction. I mean, would I prefer they do it exactly the way I did it? Sure. But I’ve been on the other side of it, too. I’ve adapted work by other people, and I didn’t do it exactly the way they did it, so ….

Some of the deviation, of course, is because I’ve been so slow with these books. I really should’ve finished this thing four years ago — and if I had, maybe it would be telling a different story here. It’s two variations of the same story, or a similar story, and you get that whenever anything is adapted. The analogy I’ve often used is, to ask how many children did Scarlett O’Hara have? Do you know the answer to that?

I know it’s different in the book and the movie …

GRRM: Three children in the book, one by each husband. She had one child in the movie. And in real life, of course, Scarlett O’Hara had no children, because she never existed. Margaret Mitchell made her up. The book is there. You can pick it up and read Mitchell’s version of it, or you can see the movie and see David Selznick’s version of it. I think they’re both true to the spirit of the work, and hopefully that’s also true of Game of Thrones on one hand, and A Song of Ice and Fire on the other hand.

—George R.R. Martin on the Stark Sisters and Ending ‘Game of Thrones’ - RollingStone - April 22, 2019

James Hibberd’s Book:

GEORGE R. R. MARTIN: Jeyne Poole was included in the pilot—she’s shown giggling next to Sansa—but she’s never seen or referred to again. I actually wrote Jeyne into “The Pointy End,” my first script, when Arya killed the stableboy. I had some stuff with Jeyne running to Sansa being all hysterical and dialogue in the council chamber with Littlefinger saying, “Give her to me, I’ll make sure she doesn’t cause any trouble.” That was dropped.

DAVID BENIOFF: Sansa is a character we care about almost more than any other. We really wanted Sansa to play a major part in that season. If we were going to stay absolutely faithful to the book, it was going to be very hard to do that. There was a subplot we loved from the books, but it was a character not involved in the show.

GEORGE R. R. MARTIN: I was trying to set up Jeyne for her future role as the false Arya. The real Arya has escaped and is presumed dead. But this girl has been in Littlefinger’s control for years, and he’s been training her. She knows Winterfell, has the proper northern accent, and can pose as Arya. Who the hell knows what a little girl you met two years ago looks like? When you’re a lord visiting Winterfell, are you going to pay attention to the little kids running around? So she can pull off the impersonation. Not having Jeyne, they used Sansa for that. Is that better or worse? You can make your decision there. Oddly, I never got pushback for that in the book because nobody cared about Jeyne Poole that much. They care about Sansa.

—Fire Cannot Kill a Dragon: Game of Thrones and the Official Untold Story of the Epic Series by James Hibberd - October 6, 2020

GEORGE R. R. MARTIN: My Littlefinger would have never turned Sansa over to Ramsay. Never. He’s obsessed with her. Half the time he thinks she’s the daughter he never had—that he wishes he had, if he’d married Catelyn. And half the time he thinks she is Catelyn, and he wants her for himself. He’s not going to give her to somebody who would do bad things to her. That’s going to be very different in the books.

—Fire Cannot Kill a Dragon: Game of Thrones and the Official Untold Story of the Epic Series by James Hibberd - October 6, 2020

I hope it helps you.

Thanks for your message.

#sansa stark #grrm

[hp-bodiceripper]

ANONYMOUS MASTERLIST

Thank you all! All you magnificent creators, wonderful prompters, thoughtful commenters, generous kudos givers and rebloggers, everyone who’s been supportive and enthusiastic about this fest. Join us in celebrating our romantic, swoon worthy and steamy creations.

Reveals will happen in a week! You have until the 20th to catch up and take part in our Guessing Game.

Under the cut you find all our 2023 entries: 8 stories, 6 artworks and 2 podfics.

🖋 Fic

collarbones like a bow, skin an arrow to the heart

(Pansy Parkinson/Ginny Weasley, E, 4k) Gin’s adjusting the lighting for their next shoot when in walks the new model Luna was so enthusiastic about, and that’s when they know they’re in deep shit.

Cool About It

(Harry Potter/Draco Malfoy, M, 16k) Harry is so excited for his first date with Draco. But what follows isn't so much a date as it is an all-night odyssey including a malevolent lift, a Gringotts heist, a Sleeping Curse, a trip to the kebab shop, a lack of dancing, a Muggle drug, a rooftop pool party, a black eye and, eventually, a sunrise over a Quidditch stadium.

Love Me Meow

(Arabella Fig/Minerva McGonagall, E, 2.5k) After the students leave for the summer, Headmaster McGonagall and the new Muggle Studies professor have a chance and sensuous encounter at the beach.

Nature pricks them on to ramp and rage

(Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, E, 21k) Lord Draco Malfoy may be a young man spending time in Dumbledore’s summer court, but that does not mean he needs to succumb to its licentious frivolity. He carries the burden of his lineage, the shadow of rumours, and the dignity of his betrothal to a good match. He is certainly not fool enough to be distracted by the dark curls and ready grin of the court’s stableboy, who seems to have taken up with every courtier who looks his way.

The Real Thing

(Harry Potter/Draco Malfoy, M, 5k) Harry only means to cheer Draco up after a terrible breakup. He doesn't mean to fall in love.

this is how we become timeless

(Narcissa Malfoy/Lily Evans, T, 10k) Narcissa is in eternal servitude to the Dark Lord, bound by the tears of a burned-down phoenix. Lily belongs to the Order, bound by the tears of the same creature. They’re the only two people in the world in the position of time turners, tasked with teetering the outcome of the ongoing war into their respective side’s favor. They are light years away, yet they’ve never been closer.

Wild Horses (couldn't drag me away)

(Harry Potter/Draco Malfoy, E, 36k) Koi no Yokan (Japanese) - The feeling of excitement you get when you first meet someone and know that you will eventually fall in love with them. A more realistic version of ‘love at first sight’, it roughly translates to ‘premonition of love’. A story of magic, horses, magical horses, and two men who fight all odds to find their way to each other.

Yesterday

(Harry Potter/Draco Malfoy, T, 10k) Harry doesn’t intentionally kidnap Draco Malfoy. Really it’s debatable if you can even call it kidnapping but the git surely seems to think so.

🎨 Art

Harry And Draco Wearing Kilts

(Harry Potter/Draco Malfoy, G, digital art) Our favourite wizards, dressed in traditional Scottish attire.

I Bloom Pink For You

(Narcissa Malfoy/Pansy Parkinson, M, craft) Pansy has been starved for love her whole life. All she needs is someone who will give her the approval she craves. An origami comic inspired by Schmem_14's fic.

Joy Exposed

(Fleur Delacour/Ginny Weasley, G, Digital art) Ginny and Fleur give an interview for Daily Prophet’s new Weekend Magazine and spend hours doing an accompanying photoshoot. When it comes to approving the selection of photos for print, they unanimously choose the candid one taken on their break, rather than all the styled and posed images.

Monday Murder Club

(Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Lavender Brown/Padma Patil, T, Digital art) The members of a crime-solving club find love and friendship amidst the blood.

The Professor's Passion

(Narcissa Black Malfoy/Hermione Granger, G, Digital art) Hermione is a professor and Gryffindor head of house. She loves her job... until Narcissa Malfoy is hired on the school's faculty, and is now head of Slytherin. God, that woman is insufferable. Hermione despises her so much she can hardly think about anything else. (She must hate her... that's why she always feels so hot and bothered when she's around, right? And does she have to be so damn beautiful?)

You Pierce My Soul

(Harry/Draco, M, digital art) Harry's eyes were on him almost as soon as Draco entered the ballroom. It was as if he'd been watching the door, and now Harry's eyes were wide and his mouth open.

🎵 Podfic

Masks Off

(Harry Potter/Draco Malfoy, Teen, 3h 15 min) Draco had followed his parents to this Caribbean island as a matter of course, even though no one had told him what they were doing here or why his father’s ships were frequently attacked by masked pirates. And, honestly, Draco’d had no intention of actually finding out either.

wasps and honey by swoons

(Hermione Granger/Narcissa Malfoy, M, 1 - 1,5 hours) After ten years on parole in the Muggle world, newly widowed Narcissa Black is finally allowed to do magic again — as long as she can complete all the spells on the Ministry course list. Her Ministry of Magic representative? Hermione Granger.

Come play our Guessing Game!

#drarry #cissamione #narlily #ginsy #pancissa #fleur/ginny #pavender #minerva x arabella #hp femslash #hp rare pair #hpbodiceripper2023 #hpbodiceripper #masterlist #mod post

[butterflies-dragons]

Do you have any theories/predictions/headcanons about post resurrection! Jon? Especially how he'll treat Sansa?

Hello Anon,

I have read some theories and predictions about post-resurrection!Jon but I’m not a fan of any of them.  I don’t think that “Jon will come back a bad boy to fit in Dany’s taste of men” for example.  And some other speculations sadden me because they say Jon will come back sterile or having lost his memory.

About Jon and Sansa reunion tho... I've thought about it a good deal.  Especially about these passages:

Robb took them all the way down to the end, past Grandfather and Brandon and Lyanna, to show them their own tombs. Sansa kept looking at the stubby little candle, anxious that it might go out. Old Nan had told her there were spiders down here, and rats as big as dogs. Robb smiled when she said that. “There are worse things than spiders and rats,” he whispered. “This is where the dead walk.” That was when they heard the sound, low and deep and shivery. Baby Bran had clutched at Arya’s hand.

When the spirit stepped out of the open tomb, pale white and moaning for blood, Sansa ran shrieking for the stairs, and Bran wrapped himself around Robb’s leg, sobbing. Arya stood her ground and gave the spirit a punch. It was only Jon, covered with flour. “You stupid,” she told him,“you scared the baby,” but Jon and Robb just laughed and laughed, and pretty soon Bran and Arya were laughing too.

The memory made Arya smile, and after that the darkness held no more terrors for her. The stableboy was dead, she’d killed him, and if he jumped out at her she’d kill him again. She was going home. Everything would be better once she was home again, safe behind Winterfell’s grey granite walls.

—A Game of Thrones - Arya IV

***

The noise receded as she moved deeper into the castle, never daring to look back for fear that Joffrey might be watching … or worse, following. The serpentine steps twisted ahead, striped by bars of flickering light from the narrow windows above. Sansa was panting by the time she reached the top. She ran down a shadowy colonnade and pressed herself against a wall to catch her breath. When something brushed against her leg, she almost jumped out of her skin, but it was only a cat, a ragged black tom with a chewed-off ear. The creature spit at her and leapt away.

—A Clash of Kings - Sansa II

***

Myranda gave her a shrewd little smile. "Yes, she was the very soul of wisdom, that good lady." She shifted her seat. "Why must mules be so bony and ill-tempered? Mya does not feed them enough. A nice fat mule would be more comfortable to ride. There's a new High Septon, did you know? Oh, and the Night's Watch has a boy commander, some bastard son of Eddard Stark's."

"Jon Snow?" she blurted out, surprised.

"Snow? Yes, it would be Snow, I suppose."

She had not thought of Jon in ages. He was only her half brother, but still . . . with Robb and Bran and Rickon dead, Jon Snow was the only brother that remained to her. I am a bastard too now, just like him. Oh, it would be so sweet, to see him once again. But of course that could never be. Alayne Stone had no brothers, baseborn or otherwise.

"Our cousin Bronze Yohn had himself a mêlée at Runestone," Myranda Royce went on, oblivious, "a small one, just for squires. It was meant for Harry the Heir to win the honors, and so he did."

—A Feast for Crows - Alayne II

The first passage could be a foreshadowing of Sansa being the first Stark to meet post-resurrection!Jon:

“There are worse things than spiders and rats,” he whispered. “This is where the dead walk.” 

When the spirit stepped out of the open tomb, pale white and moaning for blood, Sansa ran shrieking for the stairs (...)  It was only Jon, covered with flour.

It happened the same with the second passage:

When something brushed against her leg, she almost jumped out of her skin, but it was only a cat, a ragged black tom with a chewed-off ear. The creature spit at her and leapt away.

In some sense the black tomcat of the Red Keep could be a representation of Jon, the cat is even called “black bastard”, and when the cat brushed Sansa’s leg, it scared Sansa in a similar fashion than Jon playing to be a Ghost back in the Winterfell Crypts.  We can even say that the black tomcat acts like a ghost wandering around the castle reminding some people of Rhaeny’s kitten Balerion.  

And in the third passage we see how the true Sansa Stark slipped out from the Alayne Stone persona at the mere mention of “some bastard son of Eddard Stark's.”  And at the mention of a member of her family safe and sound, Sansa thinks how sweet it would be to meet him again:    

She had not thought of Jon in ages. He was only her half brother, but still . . . with Robb and Bran and Rickon dead, Jon Snow was the only brother that remained to her. I am a bastard too now, just like him. Oh, it would be so sweet, to see him once again. But of course that could never be. Alayne Stone had no brothers, baseborn or otherwise.

This is another hint that a first Stark reunion between Sansa and Jon is rather probable.

Another hint is that with Lady’s death and Jon’s death, Sansa and Jon could be each other missing part, since Sansa lost her direwolf and Ghost lost its master.  In summary:

Jon’s direwolf name is Ghost;

Jon literally died so he also is a ghost himself; and, 

Sansa’s direwolf was killed and is mentioned as a “shade”, which is a synonym of ghost:

Summer’s howls were long and sad, full of grief and longing. Shaggydog’s were more savage. Their voices echoed through the yards and halls until the castle rang and it seemed as though some great pack of direwolves haunted Winterfell, instead of only two … two where there had once been six. Do they miss their brothers and sisters too? Bran wondered. Are they calling to Grey Wind and Ghost, to Nymeria and Lady’s Shade? Do they want them to come home and be a pack together?

—A Clash of Kings - Bran I

This passage about “direwolves haunting Winterfell” is very telling, specially because haunting is what spirits do, and Ghost & Lady’s Shade stand out among the wolf pack.

So all of this could be also a hint of Jon and Sansa retaking Winterfell and start howling calling the rest of their siblings to come back home, to be a pack again.      

This imagery of “Ghost and Shade haunting” is repeated in a Victarion’s chapter, as it was pointed out in this post.  

Two sleek galleys sail from Meereen and Yunkai south toward New Ghis for supplies and legionary reinforcements, but encounter the Iron Fleet in Slaver's Bay. The galleys evade Woe and Forlorn Hope, but are captured by Iron Wing, Sparrowhawk, and Kraken's Kiss. Victarion Greyjoy beheads their captains because they said that Daenerys Targaryen is dead. Victarion kills their crew aside from the enslaved rowers, who are forced to join the Iron Fleet. Victarion renames the ships Ghost and Shade, believing they will return to haunt Yunkai.

[Source 1] [Source 2]

***

The galleys he renamed Ghost and Shade. "For I mean them to return and haunt these Yunkishmen," he told the dusky woman that night after he had taken his pleasure of her. They were close now, and growing closer every day. "We will fall upon them like a thunderbolt," he said, as he squeezed the woman's breast. He wondered if this was how his brother Aeron felt when the Drowned God spoke to him. He could almost hear the god's voice welling up from the depths of the sea. You shall serve me well, my captain, the waves seemed to say. It was for this I made you.

—A Dance with Dragons - Victarion I

And curiously enough, it is vastly speculated that Victarion may have died and came back to life thanks to the Red Priest Moqorro.  The same way it is vastly speculated that the Red Priestess Melisandre will perform some fire ritual to make Jon come back to life.  So we can say that Victarion is also a ghost.  And both Jon and Victarion have a hand burned.

So, I’m sure that Jon and Sansa will meet again and we have textual evidence that they will team up to retake Winterfell.  How will Jon come back to life?  It is not certain.  Some theories say that he will be more beast than man for a while, since his soul will inhabit inside Ghost until he resurrects.  And since Sansa has a long training in taming beasts, she will do well with post-resurrection!Jon.  There are also some theories about Sansa taming Beast!Jon with her singing and helping him heal and bringing back his humanity.  I agree with those theories. 

Good night.

Thanks for your message.

#anon ask #jonsa #post-resurrection!Jon #beast!jon #ghost and lady's shade #ghost and shade #direwolves #victarion greyjoy #moqorro #melisandre of asshai

[ghostfriendly5]

Do you have any other OTPs besides Fighter x Warrior?

1. Hige X Blue (Wolf's Rain), sad-clown survivor redeemed by the love of a good woman, star-crossed werewolves who won't have paradise without each other.

2. Roy Mustang x Riza Hawkeye (Fullmetal Alchemist) another smiling but inwardly tormented heroic war criminal with a seriously devoted sniper to save him. Love playboy guy - serious girl pairings (Harry and Susan have some of this).

3. Oscar Francois de Jarjayes x Andre Grandiere (Rose of Versailles) Mary Antoinette's devoted transexual bodyguard and her lovelorn stableboy. So much passion, so much tragedy, we will not see their like again.

4. Akeginu Iga x Koushirou Chikuma (Basilisk) An earnest young genin ninja in love with a sweet and innocent ninja princess...and the voluptuous femme fatale ninja bodyguard of said princess, seeking a good man. Something like Oscar and Andre in their fatal conflicts of loyalty, with an even more tragic conclusion, but a very lovable couple of honourable murderers.

5. Triela X Hilshire (Gunslinger Girl) the cyborg warrior princess and her strait-laced handler, trapped into working for the Italian government death squad that rebuilt her after mutilation and torture by human traffickers. A bond of comradeship and love all the more perfect for its impossibility.

6. Miki Sayaka x Sakura Kyouko (Puella Magi Madoka Magica) Late entry on the yuri side, magical girls in love; the tragic knight and ragamuffin warrior princess with a heart of gold. Protect their smiles.

...and also Kirika x Mireille (Noir), Jenny Dolittle x Lynn Lambretta (Bodacious Space Pirates), Jacuzzi Splot X Nice Hollystone (Baccano) Izuku x Ochako (BHA), Naruto x Hinata (Naruto) and, for a last nod to Fighter and Warrior with another Kung Fu princess and baby faced idealist, Alphonse Elric x Mei Chang.

#ships #anime #manga #fma #wolf's rain #puella magi madoka magica #Rose of Versailles #basilisk: kouga ninja scrolls

[angelsanddaisies]

Stablehand!Harry x Princess!Reader

-Warnings: Swearing. Light steam towards the end.

Word Count: 1.6k

Enemies to Lovers

Gist: Harry loathes Y/N and she's just a little tease...

Renamed: Love Alone

It was hot. So very hot. The sun’s brilliance beat down on Harry as he tended to the stable’s lawns. He was sweating, drenching his beige chemise– keep in mind that the chemise was white when he was first given it. He took a look around, making sure that none of the maids or stewardess were around before he pulled his shirt over his shoulders and discarded it over the wood fence. Harry wasn’t ashamed of his body. He knew he was lean and fit due to his duties. He just didn’t want any unwarranted attention at the moment. Or ever really. Harry was quiet for the most part. Sometimes his silence was misconstrued as arrogance or bashfulness but it was neither. Harry simply just didn’t like to talk all that much. Sure he had opinions and thoughts but he just never felt possessed to share them.

Harry heaved a stack of hay and walked towards the main stable house. A greyhound, with a single white spot that covered his left eye trotted after Harry.

“Are you feeling the heat, Goose?” Harry rasped, sweat dripping down his chest, making the straw cling and tickle him.

Goose barked, meandering around Harry’s legs as they entered the stable. In the corner, there was a small kitchen. Harry let the hay drop on a shelf before walking toward the small kitchen in the corner of the room.

“I think we deserve a break, huh, Goose?” Goose barked in agreement, standing on hind legs, trying to reach the shelf where he knew Harry kept the pails of water.

Harry brought down the pail for Goose and he’d barely set it down when Goose’s head had sloshed around, gulping down the water.

Harry sighed, smiling at his dog. “Y’know Goose if anyone saw you, they’d think I starve you.”

“Even before today, I’d always thought that” Y/N said from behind Harry. Just the sound of her voice had his back stiffening and fists clenching.

He slowly turned around, praying that she wasn’t really there. He wasn’t so lucky.

Princess Y/N was a menace in Harry’s life. She stood there in the center of the stables, hands twisted behind her back, puffing her chest out. Harry almost groaned. She was wearing a simple, silk frolic and had tied her corset over the dress instead of under. She left the necklaces open, allowing a peek of her cleavage. She wore brown boots that lace all the way up to her knees, meeting the bottom of her dress.

Y/N wore a coy smile, taking a tentative step towards Harry. Y/N was anything but coy in nature. She was rowdy, immature, much too playful for a princess. Harry would see her skipping around the castle, in her little outfits that pushed the boundaries of acceptable. He would hear her laugh as she played with the village children she invited to the castle for tea every Friday. He sometimes saw her helping the maids with their duties. They would insist that she didn't. It was unbecoming for a woman of her stature to offer her aid. She waved them off, saying “I’ll die from boredom if you do not take me in. You must take pity on me, I am very, very lonely.”

Harry scoffed at that. Y/N couldn’t be lonely because every time he saw her she was charming the guards, the children, the maids, her parents. The worst part was that whenever he saw Y/N, she saw him.

Her round, doe eyes would widen in excitement. She’d immediately make a beeline for him. If she couldn’t then she would shamelessly make eyes at him. Each bling of her long lashes would strike a cord in Harry's chest that he played off as loathing.

So seeing her there, in his space, when he was so hot, and so tired– Well, he was frustrated to say the least.

“Won’t you wish me a good morning, Harry?”

And her voice. Her voice killed him. She spoke softly to him, in a way that pulled him in and made him feel warm inside. Another thing Harry disliked about her was that she made him want to speak. To rant. To snark. It upset him to no end, knowing that she had this power over him.

Y/N took a few steps closer to him. Close enough for him to know that she smelt like vanilla and coconut.

“No?” She faux pouted. She took another step so that Harry could see her ample breasts practically spilling from her corset. “I must say Harry, I had no idea that you were hiding such beauty beneath your garbs.”

In his appraisal of her he’d forgotten that he was still shirtless. He stepped back, putting distance between them. His shirt was still outside so he moved to get around her but she stopped him with her palms planted on his bare chest.

“Oh, please don’t cover up on my behalf, dovey. I quite like this look. I also like the way you feel.” Y/N dragged her hands across his pecks, absorbing his shudder beneath her palms.

She looked up at him, her head tilted back with their height difference. She blinked at him with an innocence he knew she didn't possess.

Harry said nothing. He simply stepped back, making her hands drop. His silence was his only weapon against her.

Ignoring her heavy, dramatic sigh, Harry quickly strode over to the door which he now noticed she’d closed. His jaw ticked. Just what exactly did she think was going to happen between the two of them?

He wasn’t surprised to hear her trailing after while he hastily put on his shirt. Y/N stopped in front of him again.

“Well, Mr. Styles, I’m afraid that I did not come all the way out here to ogle you this morning. I am actually here on important business.”

Harry ignored her, preparing to groom the horses. He began on a white stallion he’d named Mercy. Usually, grooming was the best part of Harry’s day. He loved caring for the horses. They gave him purpose. Of course he couldn't really enjoy it at the moment with his unexpected, unwelcome visitor.

He snuck a look over his shoulder to see that she’d planted herself on the grass, with Goose’s head cuddled in her lap. Traitor.

“I was in the kitchens with Marie Lu yesterday and she mentioned a rumor she’d heard while at the pub the night before.” Y/N paused, as if waiting for Harry to ask her to go on. When he didn’t and simply continued to brush Mercy's mane, she rolled her eyes and continued. “Apparently you and Ramona had a very lively night together…”

Harry tensed. Of course, that’s why she was here. To tease him about his escapade. Y/N was always teasing him. “Why Harry, don’t you look dashing today!” Well, to anyone else they would think she was complimenting him but he knew by the inflection in her voice that he was just a big joke to her. A plaything to rile when she was bored.

“Why are you here? To confirm the rumor?” Harry bit off, refusing to turn back around to look at her. Yes, he had slept with Ramona but it really hadn’t been very “lively”. He'd been at the bar and it was near closing. Ramona was there, eager and willing. She commandeered him into the pantry and he took her there. It was all very mechanical on Harry’s part. He didn’t feel anything for her, just wanted to get his release and satisfy her in return. Apparently, she’d left with a very different impression of their “night” together.

“Not exactly.” Y/N drew out her answer. Harry had had enough of this. He stalked over to her, chucking his brush. In a brave, uncharacteristic move, he knelt down in front of her, still looking down at her even in this position.

“Yes. I fucked Ramona. Is there anything else I can help you with, Your Highness?”

Y/N pushed herself up to her knees so that she could get closer to Harry. She’d never seen him so irritated with her. Usually it was her goal to get a reaction from him but this wasn’t exactly what she wanted today. No, when she’d heard about how incredible Ramona found Harry to be and that she planned on trying to make him hers, Y/N felt a pang in her chest. She was furious. She didn’t want Harry to belong to anyone else but her. Sure, she’d done a fine job at making him hate her but what else could she do. It was the only way to get his attention. And she wanted his attention. Badly.

“After hearing about your prowess, I was very intrigued, Harry. As you know, my marriage is sure to be arranged within the next few months and I think I would like to be prepared to perform all of my marital duties.” Y/N bit her lip, wondering if Harry would make her spell it out.

Harry frowned. He’d expected anything but that. He also hadn’t expected to feel so irritated by the thought of Y/N being betrothed. He took a moment to absorb her words. No… She couldn’t mean…

He couldn’t think straight. She was too close. Smelt too good. Anyone could see them. They were in a fairly suggestive position, with their noses barely touching, her heavy puffs fanning his face. If seen, Harry would be punished brutally for compromising the kingdom’s only princess. Still, he just couldn’t manage to pull himself away, he was locked in her golden gaze.

“And which duties are you speaking of exactly, Your Highness?” His voice came out breathy, strained.

Y/N smirked. Of course he would make her work for it.

She brushed her lips across his cheek, moving towards his ear to whisper, “Well Harry, what I mean to say is, I would quite like it if you fucked me.”

--

Like for part 2.

xx. Daisy.

#harry styles x reader #prince!harry x reader #harry x princess!reader #harry styles au #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles angst #stableboy!harry #prince!harry #royal!harry x reader #harry styles enemies to lovers #harry styles oneshot #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles smut #enemies to lovers #enemies to lovers fic #harry styles fluff #harry styles imagine

[schnoogles]

who’s afraid of the big bad wolf? chapter 2 written for the @jonsa-halloween event! Day 7: Free day! Read on Ao3 

“That’s a fine cloak you’ve made her Lady Sansa,” Theon remarked, “It’s a bit big for the little Lady though, no?” Jon shot a glare at his friend. They were invited guests as household staff. Not as friends. And if he were honest, Jon didn’t like Theon criticizing Sansa’s gift. But before he could say anything to apologize, Arya and Sansa giggled.

“Yeah Sansa,” Arya teased, “I’m practically drowning in this thing.” As if to make a point, she put in the cloak and was indeed completely encompassed in it.

Sansa sighed, “I suppose it was wishful thinking that my little sister would finally grow a few inches.” Everyone laughed at her joke. Except for Arya.

--

“For she’s a jolly good fellow!” Arya smiled at her family who were surrounding her. The Starks always loved to make an event of their children’s namedays. Even the household was invited to celebrate with them. “And so say all of us!” Everyone cheered as she blew out the candles on her cake. Sansa and Catelyn had baked her her favorite this year: chocolate cake. 

Tradition dictates that Old Nan would be the one to bake the cake, but a few years ago, the old woman had declared she was ready to retire. Knowing that she would have no other means of income to survive, the Starks had kept her on. She now oversaw the younger cooks and acted as a live-in nanny for their two youngest boys. Old Nan had initially refused, stating she had a great-grandson she must take care of. So the Starks took him in as well. Walder, a fine young man if a bit slow in wit, was kind and loyal. Catelyn, unsure at first because of his large stature, soon came to appreciate the new stableboy for he was as gentle with her sons as he was with the foals. When Rickon began to speak, he would copy the only word that Walder was able to say, “Hodor.” And Walder, who would dote on the little boy, took his new nickname in stride.

After the cake was sliced and passed around, Bran and Rickon insisted on Arya opening her presents. They wanted to see what she received. And really, so did she. Arya was thrilled with each gift she got. A new horse from her father, a book of mythology from her mother, fitted trousers from Robb (who Catelyn looked at disapprovingly), and a few more knickknacks from everyone. It was Sansa’s gift though that touched Arya the most. When she opened it, Arya looked up at her sister with watery eyes.

“Thank you, Sansa,” she whispered. When Arya went up to hug her sister, everyone asked what it was that Sansa gave her. Arya went over to the box, and lifted up a large bundle of dark gray fabric. Their family smiled softly.

“That’s a fine cloak you’ve made her Lady Sansa,” Theon remarked, “It’s a bit big for the little Lady though, no?” Jon shot a glare at his friend. They were invited guests as household staff. Not as friends. And if he were honest, Jon didn’t like Theon criticizing Sansa’s gift. But before he could say anything to apologize, Arya and Sansa giggled. 

“Yeah Sansa,” Arya teased, “I’m practically drowning in this thing.” As if to make a point, she put in the cloak and was indeed completely encompassed in it.

Sansa sighed, “I suppose it was wishful thinking that my little sister would finally grow a few inches.” Everyone laughed at her joke. Except for Arya.

“You know, it’s rude to make fun of someone on their nameday,” she huffed. 

After mingling with everyone for a while longer, Jon decided they had outstayed their welcome and that it was time to let the family spend time together. He gestured to Theon and the two men wished Arya one last happy nameday and left. They didn’t get too far before they heard someone calling for them. Turning around, they saw it was Sansa.

“Oh, I forgot to give this to you before you left!” She handed them what looked like a picnic basket filled with food.

“What’s this for?” Jon asked curiously.

“Don’t question it, Snow, just accept it with a smile.” Theon joked. 

Sansa smiled shyly at Jon. “It’s just some leftovers from today. Thought you two could use some food for dinner.” Theon looked back and forth at Jon and Sansa before rolling his eyes. 

“Thank you, Lady Sansa,” he said, and grabbed the basket from her hands, because apparently Jon forgot how to use his. “We’ll be sure to have a hearty meal tonight.”

“Of course, Theon. We couldn’t possibly eat everything on our own.” She glanced back at Jon before adding, “And it’s just Sansa. You know my family doesn’t care about formalities like that.”

“Yes well, you wouldn’t catch us calling your father and mother anything other than Lord and Lady Stark.” Theon looked at the other two again, who were doing nothing but smiling shyly at one another. “Well, I’ll go ahead and bring this home. Join me whenever you're ready, I’ll be out by the tractor.” Theon gave Jon a knowing smirk before retreating to their cabin.

Jon cleared his throat, “You’re always very kind, Lady-”

“Just Sansa. Please?” When Jon did nothing but give her a strained smile, she continued, “I know you don’t call Arya ‘Lady Arya’ or Robb ‘Lord Robb,’ so I must insist on the same treatment. Or I’ll think you just don’t like me.”

He nodded and chuckled, “Alright then. Sansa.”

She grinned triumphantly, “You’ve finally relented. It only took you five years.”

At the reminder of how they met, Jon excused himself. “Time to work now, your father doesn’t pay me to just sit around.” Sansa frowned. She knows he didn’t mean it the way it sounded, but she can’t shake the thought of Jon just being kind to her because her father pays him. “Thank you again, Lady-” Jon cleared his throat when Sansa quirked a brow at him, “Thank you, Sansa.”

Sansa watched him longingly as he continued down the path to the yard. Before he moved out of sight, he turned around and saw her watching. She returned his small wave and then he was gone. Sansa knew what she was doing was dangerous. She shouldn’t flirt with him so blatantly. He didn’t deserve to be entangled in her mess. Jon Snow deserved better. 

“Admiring our pretty farmhand again?” Sansa jumped at the voice of her little sister. Arya always had a knack for sneaking up on people.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Sansa said dismissively.

“You can’t lie to me, it’s my nameday.” 

Sansa snorted. 

“Anyways,” Arya continued, “Mum wants us to go drop off some food for Maester Luwin. Something about gifting the doctor who helped her through the hardest birth of her life.” 

--

“Oh so loverboy finally returns?” Theon teased Jon.

“Watch it, Greyjoy.”

Theon raised his hands in surrender. “I’m just saying, Sansa has always been sweet on you. And I know you like her as well.” 

“She’s not sweet on me. She’s sweet to everyone. And besides, it doesn’t matter. She’s off limits.”

Theon turned off the tractor and turned to face Jon. “You know as well as I do that the Starks are different from the rest of those upperclass folk. They don’t care about money and titles. You think they’d’ve let Robb court Talisa if they did? Or let Arya befriend that blacksmith?” With that said, he went back to plowing the fields for the new crops.

Jon sighed. He knows all this. When the Starks first moved to town, a lot of the richer people tried to curry favor with them. They were an old, well-respected family name. But when they realized that Lord and Lady Stark didn’t care for fancy gifts or making betrothels for their children, their popularity died down. With the lower class though, their popularity increased. Lord Stark and his son, Robb, worked as solicitors and always advocated for the less fortunate. Lady Catelyn often volunteered at the church and schools. She was very active in charity work. 

What Theon didn’t know was that Jon had already tried to court Sansa. Perhaps not as obviously as Robb did with Talisa. But still, he tried. He’d offer to take her into town when she had errands, or walk her home from church if she had stayed late to help. And each time, he’d gotten a kind, but resounding “No, thank you.” At first he thought she just didn’t want to be a bother to him, but eventually her rejections weren’t accompanied by kind smiles, but sad smiles. Oh, she was kind alright. Too kind to tell him to piss off. But Jon wasn’t a fool, he stopped bothering her with unwanted advances. 

--

“Tell your mother again that I thank her!” Maester Luwin waved farewell at the two Stark sisters and closed his door.

“Well, that was a lovely visit, shall we go home then?” Sansa looked down at her sister, who was now donning her new cloak.

“Do you mind if we take a detour? Wanted to visit Gendry at his shop really quick.”

Sansa smirked at her little sister. “No, you go ahead. I’ll wait for you by the bench under the lamppost. I don’t want to watch any of your indecent flirting.”

After lightly shoving her sister, Arya walked to the opposite direction. Sansa smiled fondly at her. Despite her jab at Arya’s height, Sansa was very proud of the young woman she was slowly becoming. She went and sat down on the bench and waited for her sister. She thought about how in just three weeks, she would no longer be a lone wolf. Though that thought excited her, she was still worried. New wolves always had trouble controlling themselves, and Sansa was afraid she wouldn’t be able to reign in Arya. Lost in her thoughts, she didn’t notice the figure heading toward her.

“Lady Sansa, fancy seeing you out here all by your lonesome.” She looked up to where the voice was coming from, and immediately frowned. 

“Just waiting on my sister, Mr. Baratheon.” Joffrey Baratheon was another one of Sansa’s many unwanted suitors. He, like his chum Harry Hardyng before him, had made it a sort of game to try and get the attention of one Sansa Stark. 

“Ah, shall I wait with you? And I’ve told you Lady Sansa, you must call me Joffrey, we are friendly enough I think.” Before Sansa could tell him no, he sat down close to her. Too close. He smiled down at Sansa. “This is nice, isn’t it?”

She stood up, wanting to make as much room as possible between her and the overbearing man. “Mr. Baratheon, this is highly improper.”

He scoffed at her. “Improper? What’s improper is a woman such as yourself out here on your own. I’ll walk you home.” He proffered up an arm to her. 

“As I said, I’m waiting for my sister,” Sansa responded stiffly. If there’s anything that annoyed Sansa Stark, it was a man who could not handle the word no.

Joffrey looked exaggeratedly around. “I don’t see her.”

“Look behind you.” Joffrey turned to find a smirking Arya. “Now you do.” And when he started to reply, Arya interrupted him. “You can go now Mr. Baratheon. We’re fine to walk home on our own.”

“Why you insolent little-”

“Sansa, look what Gendry gifted me for my nameday,” Arya proceeded to unravel a very delicate looking fencing sword. She turned towards Joffrey and began waving it in complicated maneuvers, “Doesn’t the blade just gleam so prettily Mr. Baratheon?”

“Ladies shouldn’t be wielding such things,” he scoffed. Arya pointed the sword at him and he backed off. 

“Good thing I’m not a lady.” 

“I’ll see you later then, Lady Sansa. Good evening.” With a final scoff at Arya, he walked away. 

“Did he say anything awful to you?” Arya asked, still not taking her eyes off the retreating man. Sansa cleared her throat and Arya turned back to look at her sister. Sansa then glanced down at the fencing sword and gave Arya a questioning look.

“I’ve always wanted to learn,” she said sheepishly, “and I guess Gendry asked Jon what to get as a nameday gift, Jon told him about it.”

“Jon? Our Jon?”

Arya snorted. “Yes, dearest sister. Our Jon.” After wrapping up the blade again, the sisters went down the cobblestone path that led to their home.

“So, how are you going to hide that from Mum and Dad?”

“You think I can fit it in the empty picnic basket?”

It was Sansa’s turn to snort at her sister.

--

“Alright, supper time.” Jon jumped off the bed of the truck and stretched. He had been mulching for the last few hours and was ready to call it a day. Theon looked back at the shovels they had left on the far side and debated whether or not they should put it away. Jon gave him a hard stare and he sighed.

“Alright, I’ll put them away.” Jon sat down on a nearby tree stump while Theon dragged himself over and started putting away their tools. His back ached just a bit and he needed some rest. Suddenly he heard loud giggling and then a shout of his name.

“Jon! Look what Gendry made me!”

He looked over and stilled. Walking towards him was the woman who had always managed to catch his breath. She waved at Jon.

“Sansa. Hi.” And then Jon, remembering the one who actually called for him, looked to Arya, “And what is it Gendry made you?”

She laughed, “Oh like you don’t know! He told me you were the one who suggested he make me one.”

Jon scratched the back of his head, “Yes, well you always complain about not being good with a needle like your sister Sansa, so I thought you could have a different needle of your own.”

Sansa looked at her sister amusedly, “Oh really?”

“Oh do shut up.” Arya looked at her sword happily. “That’s what I’ll call you. Needle.”

“Gods save us all,” Theon said as he approached them, “Lady Arya with a sword? This surely can’t go well.”

“You’re still working, Theon?” Sansa concernedly asked, “It’s rather late.”

“Time doesn’t stop for farming unfortunately,” he laughed.

“But Jon’s not working,” Arya pointed out, “He’s just sitting around.”

Theon barked a laugh. “Yes well, he’s handsome, not handy.”

“Hey!”

#jonsa fic #jonsaff #actuallyjonsa #jonsa halloween #jonsa #who's afraid of the big bad wolf #jonsaaaaaa #my writing