#theyorkson

[quietresistance]

There really is no need for many words between them now - now that they have settled into this blissful state. After a loving kiss to his wife's soft lips, he pressed another to the swell of her stomach, followed by a quiet, joyful sigh. [ // from mark @ theyorkson! ]

                FINGERS  LACE  THEN  RAKE  THROUGH  HIS  HAIR,  KATHERINE  ONLY  too  happy  to  lay  there  beside  him,  watch  him.    When  his  lips  press  against  hers,  gentle  and  deep,  her  heart  flips  with  a  quiet  joy,  so  in  love.    How  blessed  a  woman  is  she?    So  many  merely  do  their  duty  to  their  husbands,  perhaps,  in  time  come  to  love  them,  but  instead,  she  married  the  man  she  loves,  who  loves  her.    How  rare  a  gift  is  that?    A  soft  laugh  slips  from  her  lips  as  he  kisses  her  belly,  hand  tangling  in  his  strands,  tone  teasing.          ❝  Do  I  make  you  happy,  your  Grace?  ❞          ——  random ic asks  ||  always accepting

[hearkenedsouls]

@theyorkson liked for a Dwight starter

“I think you’ll survive, sir,” he smiled, as he wrapped a bandage around the grazes up his forearms. “I seem to have treated you more since we’ve been in Cornwall, than I did during the war,” he pointed out, with faint amusement. “It seems your feet are more of an enemy than the Americans,” he cheerfully, teased. Oh, when they first met he would not dared have joked in such a manner to the Duke! Yet, their experiences of war had created a unique bond and a strong friendship. 

[quietresistance]

           FINGERTIPS  TRAILED  OVER  A  LEAF  as  Katherine  strolled  through  the  gardens,  fight  the  urge  to  pick  up  her  skirts  and  sprint  to  the  wall  as  fast  as  she  could.    While  she  wouldn’t  be  able  to  go  further,  at  least  it  would  give  her  the  illusion  that  she  might  run  all  the  way  home  again.    How  childish  it  was  to  think  so,  she  knew  it,  but  with  her  heart  so  heavy  it  brought  relief.    Still,  she  kept  strolling  aimlessly,  attempting  to  clear  her  mind.    To  not  only  lose  her  last  parent  but  her  home,  her  sisters  in  one  blow  shook  her,  morphing  her  into  the  sober  creature  she’d  become.

           HER  STEPS  SLOWED  TO  A  halt  as  her  path  crossed  with  a  familiar  face,  Katherine  sinking  into  a  curtsey  that  would  do  her  mother  proud.    The  king  might  have  been  her  playmate  as  a  child,  but  they  weren’t  children  any  longer,  nor  had  she’d  seen  him  for  years.     Perhaps  he  wasn’t  the  same  at  all,  she  could  not  know.        ❝  My  apologies,  your  Majesty.    I  will  head  back.  ❞        After  all,  she  had  no  wish  to  be  disturbed  so  she  doubted  he  did  either...    Majesty,  a  far  cry  from  Mark.

        ——    @theyorkson

[quietresistance]

i was in so much pain, i couldn’t move. [ // from mark @ theyorkson! ]

                 ❝  MARK…  ❞          HER  VOICE  TRAILS  OFF  AS  SHE  UNCOVERS  THE  bandage  across  his  leg,  worry  pinching  her  dark  brows  together.    At  least  he  returned  to  her,  the  very  worst  of  her  fears  not  coming  to  pass.    He  survived…  he  survived  and  came  home  to  her.    If  he  had  not,  she  is  not  certain  how  she  might  have  stood  it,  the  very  idea  causing  her  chest  to  seize,  breathing  becoming  difficult.    Beyond  his  simple  survival,  she  depends  on  him,  loves  him  with  all the  loyalty  and  affection  her  small  body  can  give  a  man.    To  lose  him  now  would  be  akin  to  severing  one  of  her  limbs,  just  as  painful  and  traumatic  to  body  and  mind.

                     Leaning  over,  she  presses  the  lightest  kiss  to  the  stained  linen,  not  caring  what  the  fabric  might  contain.    He  survived,  but  they  wounded  him,  her  soft  heart  shattering  at  the  thought  of  the  pain  he  must  have  endured,  still  endures.    Carefully,  she  shifts  beside  him,  tucking  herself  against  his  side  in  order  to  hide  the  tears  which  so  easily  spring  to  chestnut  eyes.    If  she  lost  her  husband...  she  shudders  with  the  thought,  snuggling  closer to  perch  her  cheek  on  his  shoulder.          ❝  I  am  so  very  grateful  you  are  home...  ❞          ——  war  ||  accepting

[multusxcastalides-archive]

If they had a kid meme - Sansa x Mark from @theyorkson!

If They Had A Kid Meme

Name: Richard of YorkGender: MaleGeneral Appearance: He had the blonde hair of his father, with the vivid blue eyes of her mother.Personality: He is a sweet child, preferring to be around his mother as she is doing her needlework over spending time with the other boys at the castle. He has a mischievous streak though, and likes to play pranks on other people.Special Talents: He is very practiced at archery.Who they like better: SansaWho they take after more: SansaPersonal Head canon: He once pinned his father to a wall with an arrow when he was practicing. He had planned it to happen.Face Claim: Jaeden Lieberher

[quietresistance]

😘 To give my muse a valentine's kiss [ // from mark @ theyorkson! ]

                 CHEEKS  DYE  SCARLET  AS  HE  PRESSES  his  lips  against  hers,  a  St.  Valentine’s  present  to  a  pretty  maid.    A  nervous  laugh  bubbles  in  her  throat  but  it  leaves  as  a  simple  hum,  fingers  wrapping  in  his  tunic  as  the  stance  threatens  her  balance.    No  one  wishes  to  fall  when  they  are  being  kissed...  even  if  she  feels  certain  Mark  would  catch  her.    Heart  skips  a  beat  as  he  finally  pulls  away,  both  too  soon  and  a  lifetime  later.    Avoiding  his  eye  with  color  still  high  on  her  cheeks,  she  could  not  help  the  happy  giggle  that  finally  escapes.        ❝  That...  that  was  nice...  ❞          ——  valentines  day  ||  accepting

[quietresistance]

🌹 To give my muse a single red rose [ // from mark @ theyorkson! ]

                  SOMEHOW,  AS  SHE  DESCENDS  THE  STAIRS,  her  lips  stay  neutral,  but  chestnut  eyes  dance,  betraying  her  as  easily  as  if  she  giggled,  features  all  alight.    Mark,  as  she  returned  to  calling  him  so,  stands  at  the  foot,  a  single  ruby  rose  in  his  hands,  the  source  of  delight.    Not  a  doubt  lays  in  her  mind  the  flower  was  his  gift  to  her  even  though  he  had  not  yet  said  a  word.    He  asked  for  her  to  meet  him  here,  away  from  other’s  eyes,  after  all.    Why,  he  would  not  come  to  her  with  a  bloom  in  his  hand  if  it  was  not  meant  for  her.    Even  her  tone  remains  even  as  she  teases,  only  the  slightest  bit  amused,  practice  perhaps.        ❝  Does  your  mother  know  you  called  for  me,  your  Grace?  ❞        A  jest  in  itself,  Katherine  doubts  the  Queen  Mother  does  not  know  of  anything  happening  in  these  walls,  especially  regarding  her  son.    Even  if  the  noble  lady  never  spoke  of  Mark  and  herself  in  her  precence,  the  young  lady  knows  she  must,  just  like  with  every  woman  who  he  pays  attention  to.    She  knows.    She  must.

                  Stopping  before  him,  she  suddenly  beams,  unable  to  hold  her  mask  a  moment  longer,  gaze  dropping  to  the  rose  between  them.        ❝  It  is  very  lovely...  perchance,  did  you  bring  it  for  me?  ❞          ——  valentines  day  ||  accepting

[multusxcastalides-archive]

🤝 Reach for my muse’s hand to hold it [ // to sansa from mark @ theyorkson! ]

🤝 Reach for my muse’s hand to hold it

     They finally had time to visit her home and to her delight, it was snowing when they had arrived there. Mark had helped her out of the carriage and after Sansa had instructed the servants to bring all their things inside, they had decided to take a stroll through the snow together.

     She had her hands folded in front of her body and Mark walked beside her while she told him about the different buildings they walked past. Her prince was quiet the whole time, seemingly listening intently to the things she was telling him.

     When they reached the Godswood, the place where Gods of old housed, she stopped, unsure whether it would be respectful to those Gods to bring Mark into the wood. She jumped slightly as she felt something touch her arm, but when she turned to look, it was just his hand reaching for hers. Smiling, she unfolded her own hands and reached back, twining her fingers through his. “Might be we should go inside and get warm again, my Prince?”