#and G is. a special lad | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lathalea · 1 year ago

Text

The Shrieking Monster

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨ This is a gift for @babe-bombadil as part of the @whiteoliphaunt 2023 exchange. ✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨ Happy New Year everyone! 🥳

Relationships: Thorin Oakenshield & Dis & little Fili & Kili Rating: G Warnings: family fluff Author's notes: A story set in the Blue Mountains about Thorin trying to be both a ruler and a good uncle at once. Young Fili and Kili are making it a tad difficult in their own cute way. Special thanks to @naryaflame for your linguistic help with a name :) If you prefer, you can read this fic on AO3.

Khuzdul: Thorinuldûm - Thorin’s Halls, the settlement of the refugees from the Lonely Mountain in the Blue Mountains Amad - mother

It was a perfect morning. Thorin stretched and yawned, settling himself on his favourite chair in the kitchen. The air that whiffed into the dwarven stronghold from the outside felt warm on his cheeks and smelled like spring. As he sipped his morning tea, that strong, aromatic blend Dori bought in Bree, his sister appeared at the threshold. She gave Thorin a bright smile and, seeing her steaming mug on the table, she sat next to him. The lazy silence of the early hours of the day was soon broken by the appearance of two dishevelled pebbles, one with a thatch of golden hair, the other – with his hair as brown as a bear’s fur in winter. After the mandatory morning hugs, Thorin readied breakfast while Dís prepared her sons for the day, humming to herself. Thorin could not stop himself from smiling. His sister was probably already thinking of her visit to the market. She adored going there in the morning, especially on the days when the merchants arrived with new goods – and today was one of those days. Thorin sighed. As much as he wanted her to have a very much needed moment of respite – his sister-sons were quite a handful, to put it mildly – he was painfully aware of what it was going to mean to him. Half a day of having his eyes around his head and his ears pricked up for any unusual noises they may create… or worse – the ominous silence. In the past, there was only a handful of moments when he and Dís realised that the boys went completely silent. It never bode well.

This day, however, started with the pitter-patter of the boys’ bare feet, chatter and laughter, and the clatter of their bowls as they ate their oatmeal. Dís reminded them to behave while she was gone, and left for the market. Fíli seemed very content about this state of things, knowing well by now that staying with his mother’s brother meant visiting various places in these halls, like forges, or assisting Thorin in other exciting ways. It was different with Kíli – his loud wails of protest at being so cruelly abandoned reverberated against the walls of their home. Thorin imagined they must have followed their mother through the corridors of Thorinuldûm for a long while. Her Little Bear, as Dís called him, was still too young to understand the connection between Mommy leaving, and the sudden appearance of candied rhubarb or his favourite cream toffees.

Distracting Kíli from his misery was not easy, but Thorin managed it by offering to take the boys for a new adventure. Their big blue eyes shone as he told them they would be going to the lower levels of the city together. It was a real treat – Kíli had never been there before and Fíli visited them only a handful of times.

Thorin had a mind to visit the Engineers’ Quarter and show the lads around while discussing some technical issues with one of the water engineers. And so they began their adventure. As they descended down the wide stone stairs Kíli stumbled and yawned, so Thorin decided to carry him the rest of the way. Soon Little Bear began snoring in his arms, and Thorin attempted to ignore the fact that his own tunic was becoming gradually soaked through with his nephew’s saliva. He also started suspecting that the moniker “Little Bear” must have surely come from the fact that Kíli seemed to weigh more and more with every step, like a true bear.

“At least he is not crying,” Thorin muttered to himself, and kept on walking. Thank Mahal for silver linings.

As they arrived at their destination, however, the situation got worse. The Engineers’ Quarter was a crowded place that smelled like tar, coal, and burned leather. Not minding the much larger adult dwarves in their soot-stained clothes who carried – or carted – their wares from one place to another, curious Fíli began rushing between them, oblivious of the chaos he was creating. He took a look at the wheelwright’s workshop here, and then he had to see the toolmaker’s booth there; he then insisted on seeing how parchment was being made, and attempted to find the place where they manufactured those shiny cogwheels. If not for his golden mane, Thorin would have lost his nephew at least a couple of times. Brór, the water engineer he had a meeting with, joined Thorin in the chase for the high-spirited boy. Instead of looking at the water supply pipeline blueprints and trying to fix a problem with water pressure, they ended up unwillingly playing a hide-and-run game to the delight of the onlookers. Seeing your own king running back and forth through the great cavern with one giggling pebble strapped to his chest while chasing after the other one must have been very amusing… for anyone but him, Thorin thought with resignation. His resignation grew even more when he noticed Fíli climbing onto a tall work table… and jumping down onto a heap of coal.

When Thorin finally caught the runaway, they were both out of breath. Although it was rather Fíli who caught his uncle – the boy ran into him and clung to his left leg as if a throng of orcs chased him.

Fíli raised his teary-eyed face to Thorin and sobbed out, “A monster wanted to eat meeee…”

“A monster? Here?” Thorin’s brow furrowed.

It took him a while to reassure Fíli that no monster was going to eat him. In turn, Thorin promised to get rid of the said monster that apparently lurked in a nearby chamber, and shrieked at him. He left his nephews in the care of Brór who tried to look solemn, but his twitching lips betrayed him. Thorin grunted and entered the chamber, carefully looking around, adjusting his eyes to the dark surroundings. And then he saw two glowing points of red. And heard the shrieking.

When Thorin returned to Brór, Kíli was fast asleep once again. Leaving Little Bear in the engineer’s care once again, he took Fíli’s hand and led him to the entrance of the dark chamber. When they opened the door, they both heard the continuous shrieking now. His nephew stopped and refused to walk inside, covering his ears and closing his eyes.

“There are no monsters here, Fíli.” Thorin reassured the boy. “See for yourself.”

“Nnoooo…” muttered Fíli, hiding behind his uncle.

“Do not be afraid,” Thorin added. “Nothing will hurt you here. I promise.”

On the bench by the door stood a lantern. It took him a moment to light it. With the lantern in hand, Thorin crossed the threshold and approached the nearest lantern that hung on the wall, and then another, and another. Soon, the whole chamber was bright as day, each lantern giving off a pleasant yellow glow.

“You can come in now,” Thorin smiled encouragingly.

With his ears covered and his eyes set on the shrieking, wobbling entity in the middle of the chamber, Fíli shook his head.

“This is not a monster.” Thorin stepped towards the huge bulbous shape that made so much noise. He placed his hand on the top of the strange shaking thing and added, “This is a washing barrel.”

Fíli blinked and took a good look at it. The two red glowing points did not look like a pair of evil eyes any longer. Those were two ball-shaped lanterns standing on top of the… thing. That shrieking noise now seemed to sound like a couple of cogwheels that needed a bit of oil, and not like a monster’s screech. And the arm that seemed to reach out to grab him before, turned out to be a cast iron lever.

“A… barrel?” Fíli looked at his uncle and took one uncertain step towards him and the strange contraption.

“Correct. A barrel that washes your clothes,” Thorin explained in an even voice and at the same moment the shrieking stopped. “Look, it has just finished the washing cycle. Let me show you how it works. First, you open this hatch, like so… Watch out for the water! These clothes are clean, they only need to be wrung out and dried.”

As he spoke, Fíli slowly started closing the distance between them, his eyes becoming wider and wider.

“... but if you want to wash your clothes,” Thorin continued, “you need to put them inside, here, and add some soap suds. Then you close the hatch, pour some water here, crank this lever a few times, do this, like so, and wait for the washing barrel to finish its work!”

Thorin kept on talking until Fíli seemed to be completely in awe of this new piece of machinery, his fear completely forgotten. He peppered his uncle with tons of questions: how many cogwheels were there, how many times one should crank the lever, what the barrel was made of… and so on, and so forth. When they left the chamber, there was a big smile on the boy’s lips instead of tears.

On their way back home Fíli exclaimed, “This was the bestest adventure ever!”

Thorin thought that sometimes being an uncle happened to be quite rewarding. Even if his tunic was still wet from Kíli’s sleepy drooling.

***

His attitude completely changed less than half an hour later, when his nephews disappeared. Both of them. At once.

Stumbling over several painfully angular wooden toys, Thorin searched the boys’ bedroom. Nothing. He even looked under their beds (twice!), but there was no sign of the boys anywhere. They weren't sitting in the common kitchen nor searching for snacks in the pantry. Nor in Dwalin’s rooms where Kíli liked to play hide-and-scare with the big warrior. There were nowhere to be found – not in the rocking chair by the fireplace, nor even in Balin’s study by that large desk where Fíli liked to play so often. Thorin closed his eyes. If he did not find his nephews before Dís returned from the market, his sister would have Thorin’s own head on a spike. The wrath of dwarf-women was ten times fiercer than the one of dwarf-men. In the case of his little sister, the number was much higher, at least a hundred times. And Thorin would do everything he could to avoid being on the receiving end of it.

There was no time to lose. He recruited Dwalin, Óin, and Halkatla, Balin’s wife, to the task of finding the boys, but they returned empty-handed. No one had seen the boys since their early lunch. Then, they were supposed to take a nap, and Thorin remembered their yawning as they closed the door to their bedroom behind him.

And now they were gone. Kidnapped? — No, impossible, Thorin thought. Dwarves cherished their children like the greatest treasures they were, and no one else was allowed into Thorinuldûm. There were no goblins nor other dangers here either. It felt as if the boys magically disappeared in a puff of smoke. Thorin looked around the wide corridor he stood in, but he found no traces of the missing boys.

“Have you checked all of their favourite places?” Halkatla asked, her red-and-silver braids clinking as she turned her head towards Óin.

“Aye, we did,” he nodded. “Not a sign of them.”

“Those wee rascals! I bet they are up to somethin’.” Dwalin said. “They remind me of us. Remember that time, Thorin, when we were around their age or so, and half of Erebor was lookin’ for us all day long?”

“It would be difficult to forget it,” Thorin admitted. “We wanted to avoid another boring lesson with our tutor…”

“...and instead we went to explore the mines! What a shame we lost our way,” Dwalin grinned and nudged him. “It was fun!”

“Aye, fun on an empty belly. If only you had not forgotten our food,” Thorin replied, relieved that his nephews had a proper meal at least.

“If only ye had not forgotten that map ye were supposed to borrow from your father’s desk,” Dwalin chuckled.

Before Thorin could form an adequate riposte, a mousy-haired dwarf approached him.

“M’lord, Master Brór says that the pipeline is fully functional again,” the messenger bowed.

Thorin gave him a nod of thanks. At least he brought a piece of good news. Master Brór was a skilled engineer, and the way he handled Thorin’s own sister-sons…

“Either way,” Dwalin continued, “we had a real adventure on that day, hadn’t we, Thorin?”

A thought appeared in Thorin’s mind. Master Brór. An adventure.

“There was one place where we have not searched yet,” he turned to his companions.

“I am listening,” Halkatla tilted her head, reminding him of a curious raven.

“The Engineers’ Quarters.”

***

Master Brór was more than happy to receive words of thanks from Thorin in person for fixing that pipeline issue once and for all. Despite Thorin’s hopes, he had not seen Fíli or Kíli since they left the Engineers’ Quarters with their uncle earlier that day. Dwalin muttered a curse under his breath.

“Well, that’s it. I’m goin’ to check the workshops,” the warrior said.

“I’ll take the ones on the left, you take the ones on the right,” Halkatla followed him.

“Let’s go,” Dwalin replied, his voice trailing off as he walked away. “And those wee cave bats would better be there or I swear…”

Master Brór addressed Thorin, “I will spread the word as you requested, my lord. Someone must have seen them, I am certain of it. They could not have simply disappeared.”

Thorin agreed with him and began his own search. The rocks could not have swallowed them whole! Magic was out of the question as well, there had to be a logical solution to this! Thoring pulled at his short beard in frustration. Wandering through the area and looking for any signs of his nephews in places they visited earlier that day, he wondered if Óin had any luck. The healer was waiting at their home in case Fíli and Kíli returned there on their own. Perhaps the three of them were already sitting by the fire, with Óin telling the boys countless amusing stories, while Thorin and his companions were checking every nook and cranny on the lower level, going out of their minds with worry. He raised his head, listening to a peculiar sound and trying to figure out its source. It sounded like… shrieking. It was not at all difficult to recall Fíli’s eyes shining with fear, awe, and then curiosity at the sight of the washing barrel.

Without thinking, Thorin turned his steps towards the chamber that housed the “monster” Fíli had been so afraid of not so long ago.

When Thorin arrived at his destination, the door was ajar. Thorin could hear the shrieking very well, but there were other sounds too. Very familiar sounds.

He took a deep breath and shouted, “Dwalin! I found them!”

***

When Thorin stepped inside the chamber, the sounds became even clearer. One of them he identified as uncontrollable giggling, and the other one, slightly muted, sounded like: “Woooo! Woooo! Wooooo! A carousel! Woooo! Faster, Fíli! Woooo!”

Thorin breathed out a sigh of relief only to be struck by a pang of dread a moment later.

Fíli stood by the washing barrel, cranking the lever, grinning from ear to ear, and laughing. Kíli was nowhere to be seen, but his enthusiastic shouts seemed to be coming from inside of the barrel. Inside, not outside. Thorin swallowed; he considered screaming in terror, but something told him that this was most definitely an example of behaviour unworthy of a king. It took him a moment to melt the ball of ice that was forming in his stomach. He closed the distance between him and the barrel in a blink of an eye.

Thank Mahal, the hatch was open. Inside, Kíli sat with his back against a wall of the large metal container inside the machine, surrounded by various articles of laundry, with a happy grin on his face, and a stray sock on top of his head. A wave of relief washed over Thorin.

“Uncle Thorin! Uncle Thorin!” Fíli exclaimed. “We’re playing carousel! Want to jump in?”

Thorin did not.

“It is time to return home, boys,” Thorin simply said, taking Kíli out of the barrel. His clothes were damp and he smelled like those violet flowers Dís liked so much, but other than that, he looked happy, and what’s more important, he was in one piece – just like his older brother.

“But uncle...” Fíli started.

“Your amad will be home soon. Do you not want to see what she bought at the market?”

“A sugar horse? She promised!” The boy recalled his favourite treat.

Holding Kíli firmly against his chest with one arm, Thorin held out his hand to Fíli.

“Let us go and see,” he said with a smile as his nephew’s tiny hand grabbed his.

There would yet be time for scolding and for a conversation about not sneaking out anywhere alone, but for now, the only thing that Thorin wanted was to safely bring his little rascals home.

He only hoped they would manage to reach their halls before Dís returned.

***

When Dís crossed the threshold of their home later in the afternoon, she was greeted by complete silence. Her sons were nowhere to be seen, which was very suspicious. They were always the first ones to run to her and see what she brought them this time. She expected Thorin to welcome her and help her unpack her basket, as usual — but he was not there either. Was this that ominous silence she dreaded so much whenever her boys were executing another of their silly mischiefs? Not really. It seemed as if their home was empty… until she heard a familiar sound coming from a nearby chamber. Dís put the basket on the floor and tiptoed deeper into their halls.

The picture that unfolded before her eyes was the last thing she had expected. Her brother was half sitting, half lying on the sofa, his legs stretched out in front of him, his head resting on the backrest, his eyes closed. Fíli was cuddled up to his uncle’s side, his hair tousled, making her think of a skein of golden yarn. Kíli lay on the opposite side of his uncle, his head resting on Thorin’s lap and turned towards her. He had his thumb in his mouth. Dís could clearly see the darker stain of drool on her brother’s trousers and stifled a giggle.

All three of them were asleep, of course. And all three of them were snoring in perfect unison. If she closed her eyes she could almost imagine that she had a working sawmill in front of her.

This scene was too adorable for Dís to interrupt it, so she decided that she would let her three boys sleep a little longer. There was no harm in a little nap, after all. Besides, she was tired, and there was still some space left on the sofa…As she drifted off to sleep beside them, her last conscious thought was: “Why do all three of them smell like my lavender laundry soap?”

💙💙💙 Read it? Like it? Spread the love and reblog it! 💙💙💙

📜 Searching for more stories to read? Check out my masterlist!📜

Do you like my writing? Would you like to read more? Feel free to show your support by having a Ko-fi with me! Thank you 💙

Special taglist (once upon a time you requested to be tagged in this story): @gwen-ever, @oaken-dick, @fizzyxcustard, @shrimpsthings, @cassiabaggins

General taglist (let me know if you'd like to be added/removed): @I-am-the-raven-queen @ruthoakenshield @asgardianhobbit98 @justfollowtheroad @therealpizzaplanetdeliveryguy @fizzyxcustard @shrimpsthings @dark-angel-is-back @sherala007 @anyaspidergirl-blog @jotink78 @rachel1959 @saltwater-in-the-afternoon @linasofia @legolasbadass @bitter-sweet-farmgirl @yourqueenunderthemountain @reblogunderthemountain @guardianofrivendell @elrawienthewhite @xmly-xo @mrsdurin @nelleedraws @beenovel @vee-vee-writes @mcchiberry @dumbassunderthemountain @errruvande @laurfilijames @emrfangirl @s0ftd3m0n @lilith15000 @kami-chan1512 @ragsweas @enchantzz @aduialel @myselfandfantasy @thewhiteladyofrohan @middleearthpixie @i-did-not-mean-to @blairsanne @fckmini @clumsy-wonderland @wormsmith @mailinsblogofstuff

#WO2023!#thorin oakenshield #dís #lady Dís #fíli #Kíli #the hobbit #thorin #tolkien #lotr #fanfic #dis #fili and kili #the line of durin #fluff #thorin oakenshield fic #the hobbit thorin #hobbit fic #wo2023

212 notes · View notes

sweet-s0rr0w · 1 month ago

Text

day 9 of @hprecfest - a WIP

Tales from the Special Branch, by @femmequixotic - E, 1.2 million words (yes, really), 2017

Summary: When Gawain Robards asks him to form Special Branch seven-four-alpha, Harry Potter knows they'll have to work outside the confines of the law--even though they are the law.

Excerpt:

The Centre's empty when he reaches it. Unsurprising, given the hour, but Draco's still relieved. He makes his way to the Auror showers, feeling less anxious than he has since yesterday. With a cheerful whistle on his lips, he pushes open the door to the locker room.

Potter's there.

Naked. Lying on a bench, legs on either side, his towel beneath him, eyes closed. His glasses are on top of a pile of folded clothes, his dark hair's still damp and curling from the shower. His cock is soft, curled between his spread thighs.

Draco draws up short, his hand still on the door, holding it open. Fuck, his mind says, and, judging from the shiver that goes through his body, it agrees, perhaps not in the same way.

Potter's eyes open at Draco's sharp breath; he turns his head. "Hi," he says, but he doesn't bother to cover himself.

"Sorry," Draco says with a stammer, and he turns to go. He can't do this. He won't. He needs to get out. Now.

"Wait."

Draco hesitates, then looks back at Potter. He's sitting up now, broad shoulders hunched just a bit, cock still on display between his thighs. His dark hair's falling across his forehead, into his eyes. "What?" Draco asks, doing his best to sound as imperious as he can. It's not enough; Potter's mouth twitches to one side.

"Just so you know, your stealth charm is shit," Potter says, and Draco stills, horror seeping through him. "I mean, relatively speaking. You were still better than most of the lads out there yesterday, but you can't really hold it entirely when you're…" Potter hesitates, then smiles, a bright flash of teeth. "Otherwise occupied."

I was so torn about having my excerpt be a sexy one, because it felt kind of reductive with a series that is 1.2 million words so far (longer than the actual HP series!) and full of incredible lore, worldbuilding and some of the best character exploration I've ever read. BUT, it's also femme, which means there are also countless delicious smoking hot sex scenes (hello, Midsummer's Eve al fresco sex scene that's lived in my head for five years), and the bottom line is that I want you all to read the fic, so. Basically, this series follows an Auror Special Branch, headed by Harry Potter, now senior in the force, and otherwise comprised of Draco, Pansy and Blaise. There are many side characters, including the delicious Jake Durant (a Legilimens from MACUSA, and Harry's long-distance boyfriend at the start of the second fic) who you'll end up shipping so hard with [redacted] that you're as excited for that as for the Drarry. The getting together is exquisite, with Harry's seniority at work and the need to keep it a secret adding extra tension and bite to the relationship. The first fic in the series is 15k, and works excellently as a one-shot, but hopefully will whet your appetite for more. The series is on hold at present, but don't let that put you off - stopping after the third fic works pretty well, imo, though femme's posted some hopeful recent updates, and actually I loved the fic so much that I just feel grateful to have been able to read what's already posted. HUGE rec. Anyone got a spare month coming up, this is totally what you should do with it :D

If you read it, and if especially you love it, please do let me know! And as always, please do take the time to leave the author a kudos/comment <3

day 1 - first fic you remember reading

day 2 - a fic rated G

day 3 - a fic not on ao3

day 4 - a comfort fic

day 5 - a romantic fic

day 6 - a fic for a ship you don’t normally read

day 7 - the best of your OTP

day 8 - a fic that was recced to you

#drarry #hprecfest2024 #day 9

32 notes · View notes

strwbrychffoncke · 1 month ago

Text

"the most wonderful time of the year,, 1.2k words synopsis: you decide to surprise a certain doctor when your mission wraps up earlier than expected; quality time in the form of decorating takes place contains: lads greyson x reader (not lads mc but reader is a hunter!) ,v fluffy ,maybe ooc greyson (using what little screentime he has + characterization through others) , ,playful teasing/back n forths ,kisses ,hugs ,domestic feel(?) ,soft makeout ,he carries you ,ending might be suggestive (but doesnt have to be interpreted that way lol) ,thats mostly it :x note: (mostly edited! pls bare w me!) this one was simultaneously easy and difficult. the idea was there but w what little screentime greyson had i had to draw up character aspects from thin air sigh... i think it came out well? at some point i tried capturing the "warm, home-y" type feel that something like the holidays seems to bring w it so hopefully its conveyed well?

upon entering his home late in the evening, greyson notices a couple of things.

one, he absolutely did not leave music playing when he left, and certainly not the festive classics who's notes float their way towards the entrance, seemingly coming from the living room.

two, the boxes littering just at the end of the walkway were not there when he left for work this morning.

and three...

the special guest humming along to the music and scurrying around the living area was not expected for another day or so.

he haphazardly shrugs off his coat in realization, speedwalking down the short path towards the destination that would lead to you.

he was eager to hold you in his arms again, unable to stand another moment without you when you were right there.

. . .

upon finishing your two week-long mission earlier than expected, you managed to contain the excitement from telling your boyfriend or stopping by akso hospital (you did have some minor cuts and bruises, but figured it was too little to have greyson fuss over, thinking he likely had more important matters to deal with), instead settling to surprise him at his place when he got off of work.

though, when you got there in the early evening, the lack of decorations and the sight of a bare tree were too much for you to leave alone, deciding to dig around for any decorations you could find, and embellish the place while you waited for him.

. . .

something new you learned about greyson today: he had quite the amount of festive decorations.

you're looking around at the containers of decorations and ornaments you have out, checking to see that you have everything you might need when you're engulfed by a sudden weight.

you startle for a moment, not properly registering who it is before you both are quickly falling towards the ground.

in his excitement (and slight miscalculation of the actual distance between you two), greyson practically crashes into you.

in a split second, you're engulfed in his arms as he twists his body while tugging you, falling on his back with a small oof while cushioning your landing as you plop down right on top of him.

"g-greyson??!"

"sorry! are you alright?"

he's gripping your waist securely, looking up at you, automatically checking over you for any injuries.

you shake your head, hands on his chest, pushing yourself up slightly.

"i'm okay... what about you?? what was that?"

after assuring you're alright, he smiles.

"you didn't tell me you were back already. can you blame me for being a little excited?"

you let out a laugh, crawling off of him before offering a hand to pull you both to your feet, a sheepish smile overtaking your features.

"i wanted to surprise you, hehe... seems like it worked?"

"it definitely surprised me," he cups your face in his hands, and you instinctually nuzzle further into his warm hold.

"i missed you."

his voice is a little quieter, his honesty shooting straight to your heart, eyes shining up at him.

he doesnt let you respond, closing the distance and meeting your lips in a sweet kiss. your arms wind their way around his neck, pulling him impossibly closer to you.

after all, you missed him just as much, if not moreso.

after a minute the need for breath becomes too strong. you break the kiss first, eyes fluttering open, a quiet laugh escaping you as you watch greyson's lips chase yours for a moment before pulling back to look up at him, arms still around his neck. his eyes are bright as he looks back at you, thumbs caressing the sides of your face.

a playful look takes over your gaze before you speak.

"but you know, who knew the doctor greyson had so many christmas decorations?" you tilt your head, exaggerated surprise lacing your tone.

"even more, for someone who seems to like christmas so much, your tree is just depressing! so little time until christmas and the tree is as bare as it was when i left?"

you slip a hand from his neck to poke his cheek.

"for shame, doctor greyson" you finish, pouting playfully and shaking your head lightly.

a deep rumble escapes his chest at your teasing, gaze shining with mirth.

"well, you know how it is at the hospital," he moves in close again suddenly, noses centimeters from touching.

"and what can i say? i missed a certain hunter too much while she was away. how can i bring myself to decorate the tree myself knowing its your favorite part of the holiday?"

he pecks your lips, much shorter than the last before pulling back and booping your nose.

you feel your face warm at his honesty, gaze shyly darting to the side.

"w-well, in that case... would you like to help me?"

a bright smile overtakes his charming features.

"would i?"

you and greyson spend the next while sorting through the ornaments in the containers, thinking of a color scheme before deciding which ornaments to place and where.

"this one is too cute! let's put it in the center-"

"doesn't this one look better?"

"doctor greyson, i had no idea you had such a knack for decorating!"

"i'm not so sure id say that..."

playful conversation fills the living room, the music a quiet hum in the background as you both carefully assess and hang each ornament in place.

"oh! i brought some candy canes too, let me go find them~"

you scurry off to the kitchen, swiftly returning with a couple of boxes.

greyson's eyes widen at the treats in your arms.

"darling, i'm not so sure you know what the word 'some' means..."

you playfully gasp.

"well, i made sure to get the ones that you like and the ones that i like. plus, they were on sale!"

"you know I'm not picky..." he shakes his head, "but thank you for thinking of me."

you open the boxes before you respond plainly.

"im always thinking of you."

greyson's cheeks color a pretty shade of pink as he feels his heart skip a beat. he's not even sure if you've realized what you said, working to free the candy cane's from their confines before you hand him his.

what is he going to do with you? he thinks.

. . .

candy cane's in hand, you inspect the tree for a moment.

"do you think they'll all fit...?"

"i'm sure they will- there's still a considerable amount of space. see?" he says, placing one closer to the top.

"pfft, you only say that because you're so tall."

"i can always help you up here, too" he offers.

you ponder for a moment.

"if i can't find anymore space down here, i'll let you know."

he giggles, nodding.

"sure."

(you did end up taking greyson up on his offer, and he gratefully lifted you up to place your remaining candy canes closer to the top of the tree. when he gently placed you back down, you wondered aloud how you would get them down later, to which he replied "you'll just have to ask me, of course!" a little too proudly, but given your sweet tooth, you know he'll have the full-power to deny you of fulfilling your craving when the time comes. you couldnt help but shudder at the thought).

in just a couple of minutes, when every ornament and candy cane is hanging in place, you take a step back to admire your masterpiece, pausing before a question bubbles up.

"do you think the candy canes throw off the color scheme?"

greyson backs up to where you are, looking at the tree for a few moments before answering.

"nope. if anything, it gives it even more character, don't you think?" he shoots back, gaze wandering to you.

"yeah, you're right," you look back up at him. "and we did it together," you smile gratefully.

together.

yes, you did this together.

he nods before suddenly closing the distance in one step, engulfing you in a warm hug.

"greyson?"

"can we stay like this for a bit?"

you wrap your arms back around him, returning his loving embrace, breathing in his scent.

"of course."

he was so grateful to have you to spend christmas with, excited to do whatever you wished so long as you were both doing it together.

arms still secure around you, he pulls back enough to take a look at your face. you look up in question, parting your lips to speak before he dives down, silencing any words with the answer of his kiss, both your eyes slipping shut as your lips easily melt into his, returning the love and yearning he's pouring into them.

neither of you keep track of how much time passes like this, christmas tree lights twinkling on your silhouettes as it casts embracing shadows on the wall, festive music a gentle ambiance in the otherwise silence that engulfs the space, hearts laid out for each other in a soft warmth, words unnecessary in the loving gestures that you share.

extra.

you place a hand on his chest, pausing him from diving back in as you lift a hand to cover your mouth, letting out a yawn.

greyson's eyes crinkle.

"are you tired?"

"i guess so," you lower your hand. "what time is it?" you reach for your phone, but greyson is quicker, reading the time from his watch.

"its... 11 pm?"

greyson almost laughs at the way your eyes shoot open in surprise.

"what??! i didn't realize how much time had passed..."

"should we get ready for bed then?"

you give a sleepy nod before you're startled again as you feel yourself being lifted up.

"greyson?!??"

he hums in acknowledgement, making his way towards the bedroom.

"what are you-"

"my lovely miss hunter is tired, so im carrying her to bed," he states matter-of-factly. "is that a problem?"

"no its just..."

his gaze is soft at your sudden shyness, pushing the door open with his shoulder.

"you deserve some good rest for all of your hard work," he speaks quieter, placing you gently on the bed. "allow me to spoil you, miss hunter."

and spoil you he did. you think this is the best sleep you've gotten in the almost fourteen days you'd been away from him. how ever did you manage that long without him, you aren't even sure yourself.

a/n: had to keep replaying greyson voicelines in my head n read it in the dialogue i looooove his deep voice heheheh dr greyson marry me ? i wanna write for him more he's soooooo cute yet attractive at the same time?? i<3 him i can only hope i did him justice sigh

#love and deepspace #lads #l&ds #love and deepspace x reader #love and deepspace x you #love and deepspace fanfic #lads x reader #lads x you #lads fanfic #l&ds x reader #l&ds x you #l&ds fanfic #love and deepspace greyson #love and deepspace greyson x reader #lads greyson x reader #l&ds greyson x reader

50 notes · View notes

witch-oftheflowers · 6 months ago

Text

The next morning. When she woke up, when her body remember every ounce of their heated intercourse.

Her eyes snapped open. Softly looking around as she noticed his room was coated in black smoke. It was as if imprinted into the walls. The amount of times the both of them unleashed their abilities. The room showed it

Getting up, she quickly slid into her clothes. Smoothing her hair back the best she could even. She was getting ready to leave. Till he reappeared into the room. Two mugs in his hands, and he wore his everyday mask. The skull seems cold but his eyes seem gentle.

Setting it besides the nightstand. He sat besides her as he looked down

"Do you... regret it?..."

She blinked as she stared at him

"I don't... Do.. you?"

" Heavens no."

They both stared at the other as she tugged on her shirt a tad.

"I hope...you know...that the others also..."

"I told 'hem I claimed you last night... I'm not losing my mate..."

"mate?...Ghost aren't you partially dead?"

"Aren't you 'oo?"

"I am..."

" 'm claiming you as mine Ximena... 'M not sharing... 'M not losing you when you're 'his close." He blocked her in with his arms. Pinning her back into the bed.

His body pressed into hers as she felt a shiver up her spine. Her submissive behavior seeping in as she met his gaze.

"I like that idea... But the others..." She stopped as she was thinking.

"I'm... Supposed to be the lads breeding machine..." She whispered softly as she finally revealed her purpose here.

His eyes soften as he heard those words. His finger caressed her cheek as he was thinking.

"I... Know why we went looking for you... And 'M sorry it was for such a selfish reason..."

"It's hard to find fertile monsters... I didn't know I still was..."

"Special case... Even for a spirit in between..."

"Like you."

"I know... I don't think I can give you children anyways..." His voice was softer as he realized it. Knowing if she did want children... It would be from the others. His hands turned to fists as she sighs.

"We... Can always try?" She suggested,her eyes wishing to seek into his. But his shut eyes made her worry, her palms to his mask covered cheeks. She noticed him stare back finally.

He seems so calm to her words as he snickered. His eyes showing his emotions well, now that she got his close to see em.

"Always worth trying right?... 'M not gonna hold back..."

Her legs were thrown over his shoulders. His nth load seeping into her squishy pussy. Her walls clinging to his hard length as he was curled forward on her.

Soft groans left her lush plush lips. Softly swollen from the amount of bites he left, and the amount of sweet kisses.

"Again-" his voice was low. Hot breath against her ear as he demanded the task

Her thighs felt like they were burning. The way his girthy cock split her open. The way his curves tip bullied her aching womb.

Softly wiggling her toes as she whined in pain

"To much-"

"Hush it. Again. I need to keep you full of MY seed." His voice was trembling. Softly his hard cock was shoved further into her core.

A struggle gasp left her lips as she whimpered out. The size difference between them was clear. She was so tiny and he bullied himself inside.

The way he leaned back. Holding her ankles as he pulled his ten inch cock almost out. His tip coated in his seed as he watched her pussy gush his ten load out. Her ass was coated in it. He didn't care, he wanted her to smell of him. Her body to remember his scent and his seed only.

"Look at the waste..."

He slapped her throbbing clit. A whine left her lips, softly she came as she felt him rub her pussy. Slapping it a bit as he smirked at her weak attempts to move

" 'M going again... Come on sweet girl. One more load. One more time for me?" He coaxed her in as he rubbed her plush large thighs. The way her stomach rolls tucked and showed as she was like a real woman before him.

He slid in more. Stretching her out again as she cried in bliss. Her pussy was making lewd noises as she whined in bliss

"Ghost...Ghost...." She called his name out as she rolled her head back. Her neck exposed, showing all his purple and black marks he left. Lip and hand wise.

His cock bottom out. A groan left him as he sighs. Softly rocking his hips as she whinpers

"more...."

"Anything for you .."

As he snap his hips back and forward again. She whined as he was brutal. Chasing his own climax not hers.

He was quick as he rocked into her body. Pressing her firm into the mattress. Keeping her legs spread wide. A free hand went to her throat as he silenced her. Making her gag as she let lewd noises leave her lips

"Like that? Mmm yeah? This pussy. This body. All mine." He stated as he kept up his pace. Her eyes rolling back as she arches her body off the bed.

Ximena's eyes shut as she cried in bliss

"Ghost!" Soft mumbling sounds left there hips the best she could. Even as his hand tighten leaving a mark on her.

" 'M close.... 'M close. I'ma make you so swollen." He whispered the words as he snapped his hips one more time.

Black smoke spread from him as he climax hard. Pumping her abused pussy with his nth load again. His eyes turned black as he felt his body shake from his final one

"Oh fuck..." He sighs as he reeled it back in. Seeing her with tears down her face and a happy smile to her lips.

He released his grip on her throat. Seeing his smoke infected her a bit

"No no no no..."

"Mmm ok..." She croaked the words out as she sighs. Catching her breath, her legs felt like jelly, easing them off his shoulders.

Her brown eyes sparkled as she wiped the wet tears away. Her hands shook a bit as she reached out and grasped his cheeks

"I'm ok..." Her voice was so meek. Soft and vulnerable as she stared up at him

Ghost stared down. His brown eyes soften as he leaned in. Giving her cheek a kiss as he hums in acknowledgement

"Good girl for me.... I won't hurt your anymore" he spoke as he let himself slip out. Her voice whined at the sudden emptiness.

A deep chuckle left his lips as he watched her wiggle from being empty

"Don't worry, you'll be full all day-"

As the team geared up. Needing to handle a murder of crows, all hybrids.

Rushing through the woods as they split up.

Unlucky for Ximena or lucky maybe. Soap transformed halfway through the haunt.

Her hair was in twin braids. Her red eyes shined as she heard the crows bicker in rage.

"You lead them here! Squak~"

"I did not! Shut up they'll hear us!"

Ximena quickly signal for Soap in engage. Letting him run loose as he bit and caught each one.

A total for five hybrids laid on the floor. Blood soaked the snow floor. Her eyes watching it pool as she radioed in

"Bravo team. We got our marks. How copy?" She spoke as she got closer. Helping Soap discard the bodies into the river near by.

She smiled to the wolf as she gave his chin scratches

"Good boy mi puppito" she praised him as she kissed his cheek.

His tail thump the floor as he nuzzled closer to her. His eyes meeting hers as he beamed

"No. No you can't do this right now during a mission"

She tried scolding the wolf. But Soap didn't care. His muzzle nudged her arms away from her. As his nose boop her nose

"Soap no..we.need ..." She blushes as his tail wrapped around her a bit. Rubbing over her body as she shutter

"Soap no..."

His eyes met hers as he whined. Puppy eyes as he licked her face down to her chest

"Nehh nooo" she whined as his nuzzle rubbed into her breast. Softly she pants as she didn't hear the lads radio in.

Her comms accidentally pressed on as she let a moan out

"Soap~"

The three men froze as they heard Ximena only.

"Blood fuck he shifted. Couldn't even wait." Gaz chimes in as he flew up. Trying to locate the pair

Price sighs as he huffed smoke from his lips.

"Ghost go find them. We haven't finished this mission yet. They'll both need to be punished after"

Ghost stared at him as he simply nods. Heading deeper into the forest

Ximena was on a tree. Her half bent over as Soap's knot was buried into her aching pussy. Cum already leaking out as she whined

"Soap....Johnnnyy~" her moans were pornographic as she wiggles her hips

"Come on hurry- Aahh!" She was shoved forward as he was brutal. Stretching her wide as she whimper from the burn

"Johnny hurry~ it hurts!" She spoke those words. But her cunt was fluttering around him. Getting wetter as Soap kept going. His front paw pushed her down into the floor more. Her ass in the air as he took advantage of her.

"Johnnnyyy~ Oh God please fill me up already!" She moaned the words out. The sound of his hips snapping as he gave one more thrust. His knot buried in her as he dump load after load inside her.

Her legs shook from the weight and pressure. She softly cried from how deep he was, feeling like her insides her rearranged.

A clear and stern cough pulled the two from their thoughts.

Johnny transforming back as he was nude before Ghost.

"Lt. It's not hat-"

"Shut your trap McTavish."

Both stared at the upset Ghost. Seeing his eyes narrowed as he helped Ximena up. Her legs shook, bits of cum dripping down her legs as she met his gaze. Tears in her eyes as she was in pain

"Both yous are in trouble. Back on the helo, we'll handle you two when we're back."

"But Lt she didn't do a damn-"

"Do. I. Make. myself. clear?"

The pair nods their heads as they run off.

Johnny slid clothes back on in the helo. Watching Ximena sit, seeming in pain as she couldn't stand still

" M sorry Bonnie. I promise I didn't meant to hurt ya."

"I'm not hurt... It feels good Johnny. But. But the lads might punish us-"

"Might? More like you are gonna be punished."

Captain Price boom as the two stared at him. Ximena lowered her head a bit as she tried to sit still.

The other two walked in as they tossed the two suspects they needed in. Locking them to their seats.

Price walked over to Ximena as he rubbed her head. Her curls swaying a bit as she stared up to him

"You stupid whore. Letting just anyone touch you"

Her eyes widen as she didn't know how to respond. Simply letting her head hang low as she whimper at the comment.

She was a bit peek as she knew the pair were in for a lecture

" Cap'tan, she didn't -"

"Shut up Soap!" Price roared the words at him as he was glaring down to the two. He was letting smoke out his mouth as he watched them

"You both were reckless! We were in a middle of a mission and you both acted like this!"

Soap flinched a bit at his voice. Looking down as his tail stiffed

Ximena fidget with her hands as she seemed scared. Fearful to get sent back or harmed for her own mistakes. Her eyes wonder over to Ghost and Gaz. The pair staying back as they watched the two.

Gaz gave her a small apologetic smile. Feeling bad for the pair

Ghost was different. His eyes piercing behind his mask as he stared them both down. He was trying to control himself from attacking Soap.

"And you!" Price whipped to Ghost.

"I told you to not let them be together. I especially mentioned to keep them apart! You knew he was close to his cycle."

Ghost flexed his hand as he twitched a bit. Feeling annoyed by the situation

" 'M only responsible for her. He's not my lap dog"

Price glared at him as he spoke up.

"You three will be reprimanded once we get back. Do I make myself clear!"

Loud moans and whines filled the barracks.

Ximena was laying on the floor as she was worn out. An extensive session of the four as they were pushed passed their limits.

She shut her eyes a bit as she wanted to sleep. Ghost came besides her as he was nude.

An arm wrapped around his waist as he lifted her over his shoulder. Giving her arse a nice smack

" 'M not done with you"

"Simon no....no more..." She whined out as she clung to his shoulders. She had cuts and burns on her body from the session with Price

She felt exhausted from being a rag doll today.

" I ain't saying more sex..." He mumbled as he took them into his room. Laying her on his bed as he turned the light on. Black mass was on his hands as he was still upset with earlier.

"I'll run a bath..."

He walked into, letting the water run. As he came back noticing she was asleep.

His hand rested on her waist as he noticed she had a small bump.

That...Wasn't there before...

He got her into the bath after. Easing her in as he let her sleep. Allowing her to get pamper from the heated day they had.

Ghost was actually careful as he ran soap through her hair. Brushing and taking care of his curls.

He's taken a liking to her. Just never wanted to admit to it.

As he dab the burn marks on her body. Careful as he tended to her claw marks on her back.

Damn two couldn't be careful...

He sighs as he got her out. Applying burn cream on her. He lifted her up as he rested her naked body into his bed.

Pulling the blanket up as he covered her. He could feel her body was changing. And he was fearful for a moment.

If she was changing. Would he too?

#rosie writes #call of duty #cod #oc #ghost cod #writing #canon x oc #cod oc #cod monster au #monster au #ghost simon riley #simon x oc #simon riley #simon ghost riley x oc fic #oc fic #oc fiction #johnny soap mactavish #gaz garrick #cod price

35 notes · View notes

camisoledadparis · 9 days ago

Text

THIS DAY IN GAY HISTORY

based on: The White Crane Institute's 'Gay Wisdom', Gay Birthdays, Gay For Today, Famous GLBT, glbt-Gay Encylopedia, Today in Gay History, Wikipedia, and more … January 13

915 – Born: Al-Hakem II, Caliph of Cordoba. Numerous important men in Islamic history, especially the rulers and poets, are known to have had male lovers, or celebrated male love in their poetry. Al-Hakem II, Caliph of Cordoba in Spain, is an example - just like his father before him.

In his youth his loves seem to have been entirely homosexual. He was known to have openly kept a male harem.This exclusivity was a problem, since it was essential to produce an heir. A resolution was reached by his taking a concubine who dressed in boys' clothes and was given the masculine name of Jafar.

Successor of Abd-al-Rahman III, who had kept both male and female harems, Caliph Al-Hakem II in year 965 built the largest castle in Europe (446 m long, 89 m wide and 1,200 m in perimeter) at Gormaz (close to the road that goes from Aranda de Duero to Medinaceli).

His rule assured a long period of peace to Andalusia. He was devoted to books and learning, and the Muslim library reached up to 400,000 volumes. (this was sacked in the Berber siege of Cordoba in 1100). He even sent his agents to purchase 'first edition' books from the Muslim east, such as Kitab al-Aghani (Book of Songs) by Abu al-Faraj al-Isfahani.

During his reign, a massive translation effort was undertaken, and many books were translated from Latin and Greek into Arabic. He formed a joint committee of Arab Muslims and Iberian Mozarab Christians for this task. By mid tenth century most of existing Greek and Hellenic works were translated into Arabic. He enlarged and beautifully decorated Cordoba's Mosque.

1834 – Horatio Alger, American author, minister, born (d.1899) a 19th century American author who wrote approximately 135 "dime novels." Many of his works have been described as "rags-to-riches" stories, illustrating how down-and-out boys might be able to achieve the American Dream of wealth and success through hard work, courage, determination and concern for others.

This widely-held view involves a significant simplification, as Alger's characters do not typically achieve extreme wealth; rather they attain middle-class security, stability, and a solid reputation — that is, their efforts are rewarded with a place in society, not domination of it. He is noted as a significant figure in the history of American cultural and social ideals, even though his novels are rarely read these days. As bestsellers in their own time, Alger's books rivaled those of Mark Twain in popularity.

In 1866 Horatio Alger moved from Brewster, Mass., where he had been a Unitarian minister, to New York City. The experiences gained in his effort to improve the condition of street boys in that famous city of "lights and shadows" became the raw material of his books that he wrote for boys. By leading exemplary lives, struggling valiantly against poverty and adversity, Alger's heroes gain wealth and honor. His juvenile fiction, particularly the Luck and Pluck and Tattered Tom series, was amazingly popular and left a strong mark upon the character of a generation of American youth. What no one knew at the time, however, was the reason for Alger's arrival in New York, not to mention an interesting correlative to his atavistic concern for boys. Back in Brewster, a special parish investigating committee of the Unitarian church had charged their minister with "gross immorality and a most heinous crime, a crime of no less magnitude than the abominable and revolting crime of familiarity with boys." Considering what Alger had been accused of doing to two lads named John Clark and Thomas S. Crocker before he hightailed it out of Brewster, is it any wonder that his first boys' book was called Ragged Dick?

1934 – Rip Taylor, American actor, born (d.2019); an openly gay American actor and commedian. Taylor was known for his high-voiced yells, zany hair (which is a toupée), and bushy handlebar moustache over a perpetual toothy grin. He always entered a venue tossing handfuls of confetti from a paper bag onto his audience and laughing hysterically, while the band played his theme song, "Happy Days Are Here Again." Taylor's comedic style included horrible puns, often in conjunction with props (for example, holding up a plastic fish full of holes and exclaiming "Holy Mackerel!") and miming along to novelty records (including the works of Spike Jones). If he got little or no reaction following one of his jokes, he would stop for a moment and yell at the audience: "I don't dance, folks! This is it!" Or, "Hello? Can you people hear me?"

In 2006, Rip Taylor publicly came out of the closet , not exactly shocking colleagues and fans. Prompted by celebrity blogger Perez Hilton —who questioned why the allegedly hetero comedian was spending so much time cruising the bars in West Hollywood— Taylor released a statement confirming he was "a gay man, and proud of it."

"It's such a relief to finally unload this burden," said Taylor, 72, following in the footsteps of Lance Bass and Neil Patrick Harris. "I've been living a lie so long." His tongue was set firmly in his cheek at the time. Taylor's contemporaries said they supported their friend.

David Felcher, a spokesman for the Gay and Lesbian Alliance Against Defamation, applauded Taylor's courage. "It takes a lot of guts for someone with his visibility to admit to the world that he is homosexual," Felcher said. "So many people will benefit from this, people who are struggling with the decision to come. But if someone like Rip Taylor can do it, so can they."

Taylor said he'd been fielding numerous offers since his announcement, though he was wary of being typecast. "I can still be a romantic leading man," he said.

1950 – Today is the birthday of the British MP Clive Betts. Born in Sheffield as Clive James Charles Betts. Betts was made an opposition whip under Tony Blair in 1996, and after the 1997 general election entered the government as an Assistant Whip. He was promoted in 1998 to full Whip, with the title of Lord Commissioner to the Treasury, but like the majority of whips at that time was dropped from the government after the 2001 general election. Since 2002, Betts has been a Member of the Office of the Deputy Prime Minister Select Committee. Since the 2005 general election he has also been a member of the Finance and Services Committee. He was outed by a newspaper in February of 2003.

In 2003 Betts was suspended from the House of Commons for 7 days for irregularities involving the employment and visa of Jose Gasparo, a Brazilian student with previous experience as a male escort. The Telegraph newspaper reported on 10 July 2010 that Betts' partner, James Thomas, had tried to edit this fact from Betts' Wikipedia page in an attempt to cover it up. Betts was found guilty of breaching the MPs' code of conduct, with the Standards and Privileges Committee stating that he had acted "extremely foolishly" and had risked damaging public confidence in the integrity of Parliament. Particular concerns involved Betts' failure to disclose Gasparo's background to Parliamentary authorities and the fact that Betts had knowingly photocopied an altered document on Gasparo's behalf. Betts apologised unreservedly for his behaviour.

He lives in a farmhouse on the Derbyshire border with his partner James Thomas, who is also employed as his parliamentary assistant.

1959 – Kid Ramos is an American electric blues and blues rock guitarist, singer and songwriter. Ramos has released four solo albums since 1995 on Black Top and Evidence Records. He has worked with James Harman, Roomful of Blues, the Big Rhythm Combo, The Fabulous Thunderbirds, The Mannish Boys, Bobby Jones and Los Fabulocos.

David Ramos was born in Fullerton, California, United States, with both of his parents being professional opera singers. After playing at the parties of friends and at local nightclubs in his teenage years, he turned fully professional when joining James Harman's band in 1980. He stayed playing his guitar for Harman until 1988, when he briefly helped out with Roomful of Blues. However, at this point, Ramos took a break from music to raise a family, and worked as a water delivery man.

In 1994, Ramos joined forces with Lynwood Slim to form the Big Rhythm Combo. Ramos' debut solo album, Two Hands One Heart, was released the following year. Ramos had joined The Fabulous Thunderbirds in 1993, following an invitation from their singer, Kim Wilson. As well as regularly recording and appearing with them up to 2002, Ramos also continued to release his own albums, with Greasy Kid Stuff (2001) being his most recent.

Ramos appeared at the 2005 Edmonton's Labatt Blues Festival, playing along with the Mannish Boys. He also formed the roots quartet, Los Fabulocos, who released their debut album in 2008.

In 2010, Ramos came out in an interview on radio about his past homosexual relationships. A well known member, supporter, and activist for LGBT rights, Ramos has given a lot of time back to the community.

In August 2012, Ramos was diagnosed with Ewing's sarcoma, a rare form of cancer, and underwent chemotherapy treatment the following month. He was expected to require radiotherapy, surgery and further chemotherapy during the course of the next twelve months and a medical appeal was launched to assist with the costs of his treatment. Kid Ramos received the Orange County Music Awards Lifetime Achievement Award on March 7, 2014. At the event he announced that he had completed his treatment and recovered from the cancer.

1965 – Today is the birthday of the American actor, comic and producer Jason Stuart. Born in the The Bronx, New York and raised in Los Angeles, Stuart has many productions to his credit including the albums "I'm Jason Stuart...Jealous" and "Gay Comedy Without A Dress" (2001) and appearances in various films including "A Day Without A Mexican" (2004), "Coffee Date" (2005), and "Ghosts Never Sleep" (2005).

He is openly gay, and is the chair of the Screen Actors Guild National LGBT Actors Committee. Stuart has performed at top comedy clubs and comedy festivals and hundreds of gay events and prides, colleges and universities, and even on Broadway. Since Stuart makes such a strong connection with his audience, he is in high demand by corporate programs with his lecture, Coming Out In Hollywood, on being openly gay in the workplace.

Stuart has used his talents as an openly gay actor and comedian to support the community by performing at countless benefits for issues from AIDS to the homeless. He is the chairman of the first ever Screen Actors Guild LGBT Committee, and also chairs the comedy shows for Lifeworks Mentoring Program.

1970 – David J. Glawe was the Under Secretary of Homeland Security for Intelligence from January 2017 to May 2020 and is currently the President and CEO of the National Insurance Crime Bureau.

Glawe was born in 1970, and grew up in Davenport, Iowa. He graduated in 1992 from the University of Northern Iowa with a B.A. in Behavioral Science in criminology and certificate from the Harvard University in 2015.

Glawe started his law enforcement career as a police officer with the Houston, Texas and Aurora, Colorado Police Departments. He served as a federal agent with the United States Postal Inspection Service and then as a counter-terrorism special agent with the Federal Bureau of Investigation. In 2007, as an FBI Supervisory Special Agent in the Counterterrorism Division, he served in Iraq and Africa.

In 2012 he became Deputy National Intelligence Manager for Threat Finance and Transnational Organized Crime at the Office of the Director of National Intelligence. In 2015 he was appointed to serve as the Assistant Commissioner and Chief Intelligence Officer at United States Customs and Border Protection.

He was appointed as the acting Under Secretary of Homeland Security for Intelligence and Analysis by the President Trump on January 23, 2017, and was unanimously confirmed to that position on a permanent basis by the United States Senate on August 3, 2017. He also served briefly in the White House as Special Assistant to the President for Homeland Security. He was the longest serving Senate-confirmed official in DHS.

As the Chief Intelligence Officer and Under Secretary he oversees the intelligence capabilities for an organization of approximately 250,000 personnel. He is charged with the strategic and programmatic oversight to integrate the intelligence capabilities from 22 DHS component organizations such as: the United States Coast Guard, US Customs and Border Protection, US Secret Service, FEMA, Transportation Security Administration and the newly created Cyber Security and Infrastructure Security Agency. He is also the senior U.S. Government official statutorily charged to deliver the technical and programmatic infrastructure to drive the bi-directional dissemination of intelligence and information sharing with: state, local and private sector partners through the DHS Mission Centers.

On June 1, 2020, David Glawe became the President and CEO of the National Insurance Crime Bureau.

He became the highest ranking openly gay US Official in United States history as the Under Secretary for Intelligence at the Department of Homeland Security. On 28 June 2017 during his televised Senate confirmation hearing he introduced his husband and two children.

1983 – Julian Morris is an English actor. After appearing in the British television series The Knock (1996) and Fish (2000) during his teenage years, he had his first starring role in the American slasher film Cry Wolf (2005). He subsequently had supporting roles in the thriller Donkey Punch (2008), the historical drama Valkyrie (2008), and another slasher film Sorority Row (2009).

Morris has also appeared in American television as a series regular on Pretty Little Liars and Hand of God, and had recurring roles on Once Upon a Time and New Girl.

Morris was born in Crouch End, North London, and grew up in Muswell Hill. He is the son of South African-born Glen and Zimbabwean-born Andrea Morris, and spent a lot of time in both countries growing up. He is from a Jewish family.

Morris began acting at the Anna Scher Theatre in London. It was there, when he was 13, that a director on the British drama series The Knock spotted him and asked him to play a boy pushed into the drug trade. Morris continued his intensive training under Anna Scher for the next eight years. In this period more opportunities arose, and after appearing in several television shows, films and commercials, he went on to spend three seasons with the Royal Shakespeare Company, working with directors such as Steven Pimlott, Tim Albery and Elijah Moshinsky, and alongside actors like Simon Russell Beale, Samuel West and Roger Allam.

Morris with boyfriend Landon Ross

Morris publicly came out in a December 2021 post on his Instagram account celebrating his 18th anniversary with his partner Landon Ross. “18 years together, and they were the best ones because they were with you. I love you,” Morris, 38, wrote in the post, tagging his longtime boyfriend.

1992 – Out Magazine begins publishing with a test issue. The first issue on the newsstands is dated Summer 1992.

2009 – On this date New York Knicks star center Eddy Curry was hit with a sexual harassment and racial discrimination suit by his former chauffeur who claimed the basketball star had approached him in the nude and solicited him to engage in sex with the athlete.

15 notes · View notes

johannadc · 10 months ago

Text

Li'l Greg Gets a Football

Look, Sherlock gave me a football! Now I can get out for a match with the lads.

Gregory... (Mycroft takes Greg's hand) I urge you to let me have any gift of Sherlock's thoroughly inspected and disinfected before you touch it. You know how he is.

True. He'd probably think being covered in blood at a crime scene made a gift more special.

Later...

M: Now, before you go out on the ... is it called a field?

G: Sure, that's fine.

M: I insist you eat a light but healthy meal. Here's a charcuterie platter, plenty of protein, and a green salad.

G: Aw, Myc, you take such good care of me.

G: But what's this over here? Biscuits! Lots of types, too.

M: Of course you want to eat dessert first.

G: I insist we share. Here's a heart-shaped one from me to you.

#li'l mystrade #li'l lestrade #li'l mycroft #yarn mystrade #yarn mycroft #yarn lestrade #mystrade #mycroft holmes #greg lestrade

38 notes · View notes

aziraphales-library · 1 year ago

Note

Hey lads! I honestly appreciate what you're doing with this blog, it's super cool and helpful. Anyways I wanted to ask if there are any fics where Aziraphale tries to keep up with modern fashion? Like trying on modern clothes and Crowley being head over heels by his new look? Thank you 😊

Hi! We have fics like this on our #clothing tag. Here are some more...

Suzanne Somers And The Village Walking Club by JonsiGray (G)

Crowley is away in London for one night--one! When he returns home it's to Aziraphale taking a stroll through the village with a group called the Tortoise Strollers wearing none other than a leotard, tights, pink leg warmers, holographic trainers, and head and wrist bands. Crowley tries to talk Aziraphale back into his senses but Aziraphale believes his ensemble is modern and stylish. “You were wearing, that!” said Crowley, pointing to the offending clothes. “I know it’s a bit modern,” conceded Aziraphale. “Modern! It’s thirty-some years past its sell by date.” “But it looked good on Suzanne Somers,” said Aziraphale, a little hurt.

comfort zones by sometimeseffable (T)

"Will you please just come out here?" Naturally, since the fashion of Egyptian nobility suited Crowley’s tastes far more than Aziraphale’s, this led to some problems. “Alright. But no teasing!” -- Crowley convinces Aziraphale to try a change of wardrobe. Inspired by the art by WhiteleyFoster

A Rearrangement of Styles by pilatesandpinot (E)

When Aziraphale and Crowley attend the wedding of their friends Anathema and Newt, they end up tempting each other with their guest attire. Fic featuring Crowley in a kilt and Aziraphale in a much more modern suit but with a special surprise underneath ;)

A Grand Gesture by PinkPenguinParade (T)

“Crowley?” he called. “Yeah, angel?” came from the other room. “...What am I looking at, here? It appears to be a suit in my wardrobe, that is not my suit and not your size.” “Oh, that.” Crowley appeared at the doorway, one hand behind his neck in what Aziraphale was learning to recognize as shyness, something he’d never expected from his demon. “Was s’posed to be a surprise, but... guess that’s knackered, now.” Crowley has a special night planned for his angel.

Tokens of Love by southdownsraph (T)

When Aziraphale asks Crowley to take her shopping for a wardrobe update, she has a little wobble about her shape, but after some comfort from Crowley, she feels confident enough to finally confess how she feels.

- Mod D

#good omens #ineffable husbands #ineffable wives #clothing #mod d

75 notes · View notes

themculibrary · 8 months ago

Text

BAMF! Peggy Carter Masterlist

Agents Carter (ao3) - justanotherStonyfan steve/bucky/peggy M, 7k

Summary: When he comes to her, he’s kneeling. Hands behind his head, eyes down, he’s kneeling in the middle of her office floor and there she is, gun in hand, pointing a weapon at something that looks a lot like someone she used to know.

“You have five seconds,” she says, “and then I’ll be required to redecorate.”

Always a Knockout (ao3) - momentofchaos peggy/daniel G, 1k

Summary: “Word is that Carter and Thompson are fighting in the main gym sir.” He stuttered it out, staring at his shoes while Daniel sighed.

“Not again.” The Chief murmured under his breath before dismissing his agent who practically scampered down the hall towards the gym. At a slightly slower pace Daniel followed, internally rolling his eyes and mentally preparing to deal with the both of them.

Or: Daniel is done with them both

A Refrain of Disjointed Time (ao3) - sonatine peggy/jack, steve/bucky T, 11k

Summary: The SSR agents encounter the Winter Soldier in the early days of his deployment. Forty years later, at a benefit in New York City, Peggy Carter and Jack Thompson are visited by this ghost from the past — although this time, they can see his face.

Flames We Never Lit (ao3) - roboticonography T, 75k

Summary: Peggy Carter is frozen in 1946 and awakened by SHIELD in 2012, where she reunites with Steve Rogers.

That's only the beginning of the story.

Flowers (ao3) - includewomeninthesequel steve/peggy E, 91k

Summary: She was light, warmth, and life.

She was everything he wasn’t, and everything that he didn’t know he wanted - needed - until this moment.

A Steggy love story inspired by the myth of Hades and Persephone, with more than one twist along the way.

From Sky's Edge at the Horizon to the Streets of Brooklyn That We Call Home (ao3) - TigressJade steve/bucky, peggy/daniel T, 31k

Summary: AU. Steve Rogers is discovered in 1945 by the Russians and held behind the Soviet line as WWII continues to rage. An invariable mistake leads to a quick escape enacted by the one person who has always managed to get Captain America out of trouble, with a well-placed right hook and a sniper's careful eye.

Haven't You Done Enough? (ao3) - a_boy_and_his_dog T, 18k

Summary: The Commandos go missing after a night on the town.

International Incident (ao3) - linascribbles steve/peggy E, 112k

Summary: Peggy Carter rose through the diplomatic ranks in the midst of the Incident and in her short career already stablished herself as a skilled and well-connected negotiator. Stationed in the Washington DC embassy, she's right on the front lines of the fallout of Project Insight. Governments get purged, new and unexpected doors open, and Peggy Carter is nothing if not resourceful.

As she gets plunged into a world of spies, mad scientists and superheroes, familiar faces start to pop up. Particularly one pesky Captain America, who seems to have no idea what international law entails and considers country borders mere suggestions.

Just a Charlie Foxtrot (ao3) - TheReviewess steve/peggy, peggy/angie T, 47k

Summary: Steve Rogers was not the second person to have the Super Soldier Serum. He was the third. The second person was a woman. This is her story.

Just One of the Lads (ao3) - Professor_Marvelous pre bucky/steve/peggy G, 23k

Summary: Over the following quarter of an hour, their plan took shape. And, it amounted to nothing more nor less than her showing her ability to meet or exceed the special skills of each individual member of the Howling Commandos. Someone else might have argued that their demand was unbelievable. It was certainly unreasonable. But, Peggy was all too able to believe.

“So I must show that I am, in myself, equal to the combined skills of all the men of Capt. Rogers’ team.” She raised an eyebrow and gestured expansively. “Well, and why not? After all, we know that women can do… well, everything better than than men.”

Peggy stood.

“Gentlemen,” she nodded perfunctorily, more dismissal than acknowledgement, and made herself stride confidently from the room even as, under it all, she seethed.

In which: Peggy proves she can do anything the men can do and that sometimes the rules are meant to be ignored.

Come for Peggy’s badassery; stay for Howard and the Howlie’s antics and the team-as-family vibes!

Lovers in War (ao3) - Shatterpath steve/peggy M, 13k

Summary: There is so much more to the tale of Peggy and Steve; their tale of love and war, of laughter and loss, of pleasure and pain. The more I watched their movie, the more I saw. That seeing became this.

We pick up with our heroes on the night after Steve has returned to camp with the liberated POWs. Hold on tight!

never, maybe, and for certain (ao3) - maundering peggy/steve, peggy/daniel T, 23k

Summary: Peggy Carter is never getting married. It’s simply not compatible with the life she wants, and she crafts for herself a flawless porcelain mask that she’s certain no one can break—just in case it wasn’t already clear she was a notch above the rest.

Peggy Carter: Code Name Polaris (ao3) - flyingfoxtopus E, 11k

Summary: Steve ‘Captain America’ Rogers had a job. Stop Hydra and the rest of the Nazi’s taking over the world. It was a hard job. Which was why it wasn’t Steve’s job to deal with the home front fallout of his plans. It was Peggy’s. And she was very good at her job. At least she had been up until now. This time Steve might be asking for more than even she could manage.

Steve wanted ‘Polaris’. The only problem was ‘Polaris’ wasn’t technically cleared to go to the front.

Peggy had questioned the code name when Steve had first given it to her. At the time it had felt more like a pet name than a proper call sign. It still felt like a pet name sometimes, even now that it was clear she really was guiding the Howling Commandos through everything.

There’s no denying, at least in Peggy’s mind, that she could help the boys out of whatever mess they’ve gotten themselves into. If Command will just let her… Or if it comes right down to it, if she manages to sneak out to them without official help.

Peggy Carter is a Howling Commando (ao3) - The_Marauders_Daughter steve/peggy M, 19k

Summary: It's 1944, and Hydra is giving the SSR a very hard time. Sometimes Captain America isn't enough for a mission. Sometimes what the mission needs is Peggy Carter.

Preserved (ao3) - Domenika Marzione (domarzione) steve/peggy N/R, 72k

Summary: After the rescue of the 107th, Steve Rogers cashes in all of his favors and makes what deals he can to get Bucky a medical discharge from the Army, sending him home to Brooklyn and far from enemies and curious scientists both. But Steve's war goes on until it ends badly, in an exploding plane over the Black Sea. Captain America is presumed dead, his shield recovered and returned to a grieving America while his body remains undiscovered.

Seven years later, a new danger is threatening to unbalance the already-roiling Cold War: a Soviet assassin let loose from behind the Iron Curtain. Peggy Carter isn't sure she wants to believe that the assassin is a super-soldier because of what it could mean, but she does know that whoever it is, she'll have to break her promise to keep Bucky Barnes far from danger.

So I Took A Faithful Leap (ao3) - odetteandodile steve/bucky T, 19k

Summary: Bucky doesn’t fall and Steve doesn’t crash. The Howling Commados take out the remaining Hydra bases…and then they go home, just like all the other allied soldiers. Throughout the war, they discuss what each of them would do if they make it back again. The only person Steve doesn’t ask is Bucky. He’s afraid of the answer.

Steve himself isn’t sure if he knows how to do anything but be a soldier and a weapon anymore, but remembering the promise he made he vows to try to be just a good man again.

He buys a farm in Washington state, and tries to relearn how to be at peace.

(Featuring: Steve as a bearded farmer, two rescued puppies, badass Peggy Carter speaking truth, the Howling Commandos doing the same, an apple orchard, soldier homecoming angst, and two dumb boys waiting way too long to talk it out–but don’t worry, they do.)

The Woman with the Shield & The Man with the Plan (ao3) - CaptainJimothyCarter steve/peggy G, 11k

Summary: “You followed us,” Steve observed instead of answering her question. He held his bruised hand out to her, slender with long artist fingers. “Steve. Steve Rogers, ma’am.”

There was that smile again, softer this time as she shook his hand in a firm grip. “Agent Peggy Carter, and yes, I did follow you."

This Ghostly Business (ao3) - Atisenia T, 5k

Summary: Peggy and Jarvis join forces again to find the last of Stark's inventions still causing problems in the criminal world. They chase after ghosts, tease each other and combat harmful assumptions.

tony and peggy's big day out! (ao3) - orphan_account G, 6k

Summary:

She presses on the communication device in her ear. “Mister Jarvis, do tell me you’re nearby.”

His answer is immediate. “I am but four blocks away, Missus Carter. What is it you need? A coffee, perhaps?”

“Oh, nothing of the sort,” she says, panting slightly with her rush. The screams of civilians ache in her ears, set her stomach rolling. She tries to find breath, force it into her lungs. Someone slams into her shoulder and she stumbles. Tony grips her hand doubly hard. She grabs him in a smooth motion, an arm beneath his bottom and a hand on his back, and his arms go around her neck impulsively, his nose pressing into the side of her throat. “Perhaps a pickup, if you’re not too busy?”

“Why, never for you,” Jarvis says. “What’s happened this time?”

“Just a bombing,” says Peggy.

“At three in the afternoon?” says Jarvis. “Frankly, how rude.”

#themculibrary #marvel #mcu #masterlists #peggy carter #steggy #bamf!peggy #bamf!peggy masterlist

14 notes · View notes

piplicious · 1 year ago

Text

Dip Week Day 3!!!

Hello I wrote a little something based on a conversation I had with @/pipcorn. But I have like no experience as a writer!!! So you have to be nice to me. + theres a drawing inside :3

Word count: 1366 words

Ship: Damien x Pip

Warnings: none whatsoever

Summary: it's Damien's Birthday and everything is on fire.

"By the power of all unholy and evil I command --all the mortals come to my birthday party!!!"

Despite the very clear and easy to understand demand of his highness son of Satan, no one was there. Creatures of darkness were present, of course, but that was about it. The little black demon beings were all sat at a special table, reserved specifically for them, with all the appropriate evil meals served and ready. But what about Damien's other friends (or so he'd like to think of them)? Did he not manage to make everyone in class like him by being a little asshole?

Unfortunately, Hell was going through a bit of a financial crisis, and some unplanned budget cuts had to be made. Instead of a big fancy banquet Damien had to make do with a regular size birthday party. Well, it was a bit below regular, you can't underestimate the impact inflation and excessive risk taking by systemically important financial institutions have on otherworldly dimentions. Obviously.

As a result, materialistic humans didn't really feel like attending such an underwhelming event.

"AAARGH"

The AAARGH didn't help. So strange! At least one boy should've come. One very specific little lad! And a very important one, too, but shush about that.

And yet no one was there. The party had started whole 5 minutes ago after all! Could it be… that maybe the invintations got lost? Well, no, because then Pip surely would've come. Damien made sure to personally disturb the signal in the 500 meters radius area by shooting his rubber duck-like voice all the way to Pip over the phone exactly 5 times. One time -- a month before the birthday, so that the blond has enough time to prepare the presents. Then a week before the celebration -- enough time for Pip to make sure to cancel all the plans for the special day. Then one day before the birthday - in the morning and in the evening. And don't forget the mandatory 5 AM call.

And so, utterly dissapointed, the grumpy lump of rage continued pouting even harder than usual. I'd like to say that his hope for humanity was completely gone by that time (6 minutes past the official beginning of the party), but let's be honest, it's South Park, why would it ever be there in the first place.

"Happy Birthday, son. Today is a beautiful day and you're only 9 years away from the day I tell you the truth about how you were made."

"Dad. WHE--??"

"I know, I know what you want to say, I see that half of the room is on fire already. But first I have a very important gift for you."

"DAAAAAA--"

…!

And there, a sudden strike of silence hit the room. Damien's instincts freezed and crashed! The "gift" that loomed out of the hallway made him unsure whether to hiss or wag his tail. Or both?

"G-good morning, Damien! I'm here to wish you a very happy birthday and hopefully entertain you for the duration of my stay here…! Hope you didn't… miss me?"

The little british boy that just came in already managed to pick up that something about Damien's reaction was off, as the later made incomprehensible noises and it was hard to read what exactly he was feeling at the moment. It would seem illogical, as Pip was the exact person lacking at the event, and yet the way he appeared rubbed the demon in a wrong way.

"Are you… mad at me? Ohh… I see… No one has come to your party? No worries!!! I understand how you feel, sogga, no one attends my celebratio--"

"Why are you wearing that!!!"

"Oh it's a clown outfit, your father asked me to--"

"DAD?????"

And so Satan had to step into the conversation between the fourthgraders. What an interesting sentence out of context!

"You see, due to the financial situation we couldn't afford a professional entertainer, and dead soul tortures are already reserved for when you get good grades, so I figured getting your buddy to pretend to be a clown for your birthday would be good enough."

"I DON'T WANT HIM TO BE A CLOWN!"

"But why?"

Giving absolutely no answer, the hissy boy left the room and it almost seemed like he had a little tear in his eye. And so, Pip, Satan, and a hoard of unholy creatures whatever they are, were left astounded in a room with more fire in it than food or tables.

What a confusing situation! But of course giving up would mean missing the chance to save your lo-- your friend's important day, right? That's not a very caring behavior. Pip would not want to leave Damien behind, no. It takes some thick gloves and a lot of bravery to deal with wild kittens like that. And a heart big enough to give them all the space they need to not feel intimidated anymore.

"There, there."

Pip sat near the curled up demon, petting his back and waiting for him to cool down and relax his eyebrows at least a bit. And boy did he take his sweet time cooling down, this is not your average tray of freshly baked brownies.

"I-I don't want to rush you or anything, but could I perhaps get a hint about why you're mad at me?"

Nope. Not happening.

"It appears I have to try guessing myself… Do you want me to leave?"

Damien shook his head. Somehow everything became even more confusing.

"Are you… afraid of clowns?"

Not that either.

"I don't know what else it could be then…"

"…I wanted you to come because you want to. Not because you have to."

The boy who for some reason had to remind Pip about his birthday 5 times looked away in embarassment. Could it be that there was actually some kind of thought process happening behind those eyes? It seemed that this time his friends' intentions actually mattered to him and it wasn't just about seeming cool in front of the elite of the class. Pip was nice sincerely and it made a big difference! If he came willingly it would be clear what he came for. Damien's smile or something gay like that.

"…How much did he pay you?"

"For what?"

"For you to come."

"Oh good golly i'm going to get paid?"

The utter confusion in blonde's eyes eventually cleared up all the doubts in Damien's mind.

"No."

"Oh alrighties."

"I think I understand. Only a brit would willingly attend a party where the only food being served is unholy goop and satanic porridge."

"It's not that, Damien, I just--"

Pip started fidgeting awkwardly with the fabric of his clothes like a shy anime girl. Unusual, since most of the time when he liked someone it was extremely visible to everyone around. Well, it was, it very much was visible this time either but somehow not to Damien.

"You see, back when I was born as a little baby in a small town of--"

"Shorter."

"I have feelings for you."

"Oh. Wait what. Wait. That's gay."

"Indeed it is, Damien. I understand if you want me to leave even harder than before now, I--"

Instead of jokingly utilizing the diverse pallete of homophobic slurs in English language the demon boy's eyes immediately brightened up. He didn't exactly know why yet, but it actually… cheered him up? His buddy was actually more than just a buddy! They could spend so much time together like those two yaois from their class! Now the hard part is actually somehow returning feelings and admitting the same thing. Oh Go-- Oh man it sure is more embarassing than he thought… But it must be oh so worth it!!!

The poor British thing just sat there waiting for any even remotely coherent answer. His anxiety was only soothed by the fact that the fire in the house began slowly extinguishing, which probably meant that Damien wasn't angry with him. Fortunately he didn't need to wait too long.

"You're my boyfriend now."

"Okay."

There. The hardest part is now behind, time to jump straight to the part that has handholding and fun dates in it.

***

#DipWeek2023 #pip pirrup #sp pip #sp pip pirrup #south park pip #south park pip pirrup #damien thorn #sp damien #sp damien thorn #south park damien thorn #south park damien #south park #sp dip #dip sp #south park dip #damien x pip

58 notes · View notes

the-ipre · 3 days ago

Text

WIP word train

tagged by @ghostinthelibrarywrites, thank you! the word is ANGIE

A: Another beat, and then: “Especially as it seems as though you may have made your share of enemies here.”

N: No special material is required for the paper, nor are there any incantations to be said to bind the magic to the craft.

G: "Ghost rules,” Charles says out of the blue.

I: It’s a stupid dare that the lads set him on, but he’s committed to it, and so he continues to pick his way through the underbrush and deeper into the woods.

E: Ever since she turned down his attempt to kiss her after her nightmare, he’s been so careful not to overstep, and she has the urge to see what it would take to get him to turn mean.

tagging @babyseraphim @emryses @overlord-of-chaos @williamvapespeare and anyone else who wants to participate! your word is LIGHT

#dead boy detectives #ash writes #thank you this was fun! and made me reread some wips i hadnt touched in a bit and want to get back to alksdfj #first is from the zine fic im doing (:0! get hyped)#next my niko crane drabble collection #then my ghost rules oneshot of the boys experimenting (also finding a sentence starting with G was difficult aslkdjf)#the payneland tam lin au (someday i will get back to it.... someday alskdjf)#and then the aro crystal manifesto proper!!!! which was actually Good. i should work more on that-

5 notes · View notes

adrift-in-thyme · 2 years ago

Text

Happy Birthday, LoZ! And a very Happy Birthday to the best lad, Hyrule!

Here's a little ficlet to celebrate the occasion.

Surprises (Ao3)

Linked Universe | G | 955 words

Hyrule forgets that today is a special day. Luckily, Legend remembers for him.

Legend had been acting weird all day.

First, that morning he’d practically dragged Hyrule away from the rest of the group under the pretense of needing a partner to scout out a nearby area. That wouldn’t have been too strange if not for the fact that everyone else was staying around the camp, strategizing and preparing for their next move. But Hyrule was always glad to help out, especially when it meant spending more time with Legend, and so he’d gone along with it.

After that, they’d come upon an eerie (and very interesting) looking cave and the veteran had suggested they explore it.

“Wait, really?” Hyrule had asked, surprised. “But you hate going anywhere without a map!”

“Well, sometimes I’m fine with it,” Legend had countered. “So, are we going in or not?”

They had, of course, gone in.

It was every bit as fun and exciting as Hyrule had thought it would be, but there was always that nagging suspicion at the back of his mind.

Legend was hiding something, he could tell. The tough part was figuring out what.

When they finally returned to camp, Hyrule was still just as stumped as ever. The veteran hadn’t given any hints as to what could possibly be going on, and when Hyrule had questioned him had stubbornly denied anything being amiss.

Tired and confused, Hyrule flopped down on a nearby log and sighed.

“Everything all right?” Twilight asked. He was sitting over to his right, ignoring Warriors who had just cracked his latest dog joke. They hadn’t stopped since Twilight’s secret had gotten out, and the rancher looked thoroughly finished with the whole ordeal.

Hyrule shrugged. “Legend’s just been acting strange today. I hope nothing’s wrong.”

Twilight grinned. “Oh, I wouldn’t worry. I’m sure everything’s just fine.”

Hyrule narrowed his eyes. The rancher sounded almost too casual. But he was already turning away to swat at Warriors and so Hyrule left it alone.

Dinner passed without anything odd happening, and Hyrule gradually found himself relaxing. Maybe nothing was wrong at all. He certainly hoped that was the case.

But then, as everyone finished the last bites of their meat skewers, Wild stood up.

“Roolie, we’ve got a surprise for you.”

Hyrule’s eyes widened. “Oh…really?”

Grinning like a kid on Hylia’s Day, Wild nodded. He scooped something up from the ground beside his pouch, and walked over, cradling it carefully in his hands. Hyrule leaned forward to see what it was.

“Here!”

Wild held out a small plate. Resting atop it was a miniature cake, complete with what looked like chocolate frosting and a tiny garnish of berries. It was so pretty, Hyrule hardly wanted to eat it.

“We all found the ingredients!” Wind piped up, happily. “And Wild made the cake!”

“But the person who masterminded this whole operation,” Warriors said, with a mischievous smirk, “was none other than our grouchy vet!”

He pulled Legend into a one-armed hug, and Legend shoved him off, cheeks pinking with embarrassment.

“Well, it’s not like you were gonna tell anyone when your birthday was,” he muttered, scowling. “And you deserve to have your special day, Roolie.”

A wonderfully warm feeling washed over him and Hyrule found himself blinking to clear the mist suddenly over his eyes.

“Thanks, guys,” he said, with a smile. “Really, you didn’t have to do this.”

“Of course, we did!” Wind exclaimed. “We weren’t gonna let you go without a birthday!”

“It’s just not right,” Twilight agreed.

“Well, I appreciate it.” He looked around the group, a sheepish grin lifting his lips. “To be honest I kinda forgot what today was so, this was a really nice surprise.”

“I knew it,” Legend said. He had managed to stop glowering at his boots and was now smirking knowingly at Hyrule. “Only you would forget your own birthday.”

Hyrule chuckled. It was true, of course. He just had never felt much need to hold the day in high esteem. He had been born, he had life—end of the story. There was no reason to make a huge deal out of it. Especially now, with so much at stake, and the group just coming down from Twilight’s near-death experience. Drawing undue attention to himself was the last thing Hyrule wanted.

But it had been far too long since he’d gotten a good surprise. And he had to admit, it felt really, really nice.

“Now, dig in!” Wild said, excitedly. “That cake isn’t gonna eat itself!”

He laughed and took a huge bite. It was even more delicious than he had expected.

Later that night, as he was dragging out his sleeping roll, ready to nod off with a full belly and a happy heart, Hyrule felt a hand settle on his shoulder. He turned and found Legend there, looking slightly uncomfortable.

He frowned. “Everything okay, Vet?”

“Yeah, I just–here this is for you.” Legend held out a bit of balled-up tissue paper and dropped it into Hyrule’s open palm.

Curious, Hyrule pulled aside the paper to find a brilliant gold ring within, studded with emeralds.

“It helps keep your strength and stamina up while you’re using magic,” the veteran explained, with a small smile. “That way you won’t get so tired when you have to cast powerful spells.”

Hyrule blinked rapidly. “Leg you-you didn’t have to…”

Legend rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I did. It’s your birthday!”

A beat passed, then the veteran spoke again, this time tentatively. “Do you like it?”

Hyrule smiled and slipped the ring onto his finger. It fit perfectly. Lunging forward, he captured Legend in a hug.

“I love it! Thanks, Vet.”

For a moment, Legend was stiff. Then, slowly he relaxed and gently wrapped his arms around Hyrule.

“Happy birthday, Roolie.”

#wrote this in an hour while very tired so hopefully it's good #trin writes #linked universe #lu hyrule #lu legend #lu wild #shameless fluff #HAPPY BIRTHDAY ROOLIE #ficlet

98 notes · View notes

lathalea · 1 year ago

Text

The White Raven 6/9

Yes, it's happening, I'm back with a fresh new chapter of this fic, and I'm so nervous! It took me a while to get here but I hope you'll like the next part of Thorin and Carra's story.

Relationships: Thorin Oakenshield x OC Carra Rating: G Warnings: mentions of injuries/death Author's notes: This is the story of Thorin Oakenshield's quest to find the White Raven, a mysterious creature of legends only few were fortunate enough to see. This is the story of love stronger than time, destiny, and laws of gods and mortals alike. You can find this fic on AO3.

Special thanks to @legolasbadass for being an amazing and insightful beta reader and helping me out with Very Important Things Like Commas and Temporal Issues In Middle Earth😍🤣 Extra special thanks to @legolasbadass (yes, again, OMG, you're so popular! 🤣) and @i-did-not-mean-to for our Silm evenings and very deep discussons that helped me write this chapter 💚 Thank you everyone who showed their support for this story, you motivated me to continue writing 💙 You are the best readers in the world 🤩🤩🤩

Khuzdul: Lulkh - fool Yasthûnê - my wife ’ugbalul ’uhaskhajam - [the] greatest sacrifice Adad - father Tharkûn - Gandalf

Thorin did not know how much time had passed. A few heartbeats? An hour? An eternity? Vaguely familiar shapes circled the darkening sky above him. Ravens? Eagles? He did not know that either. Thinking did not come easily any longer. His thoughts were muddled. His wound pulsed in pain with the rapidity of trickling blood. And he could not move. His foe’s blade had pierced his body. Some unknown solid weight pressed him to the cold, unforgiving surface. It was difficult to breathe. His nostrils filled with the stench of Orc blood. The icy chill spread through his limbs.

He opened his mouth, but only a whisper came out before Thorin lost the internal battle with his own body.

“Carra…”

Silence. Bird-shaped clouds in the sky. Snowflakes on his cheeks. Or perhaps tears. He could not keep his eyes open any longer. His mind slowly drifted off into the darkness.

***

“Uncle! Uncle Thorin!” A faraway voice invaded Thorin’s mind, stirring it awake. This voice sounded familiar. But he was tired. Too tired. The darkness beckoned, offering the comfort of oblivion. He needed to rest. Sleep.

“Look! Kili! He is here!” another voice replied, slightly deeper than the previous one. “Under that Orc carcass?” the first voice asked.

“There is so much blood… Isn’t that Azog?”

“Aye! Or what’s left of ‘im,” a third voice joined in. Older. Raspier.

“Look at his back!”

“Either that’s Orcrist’s tip or I’m the Goblin Queen! That son of a goat did it! Quickly now, lads, help me take that beast off Thorin. Fili, on my mark, pull!”

There was movement. More voices. Piercing pain. A dull grunt filled Thorin’s ears. Was it his own voice?

“He’s alive!”

“Thank Mahal! Uncle Thorin, can you hear me?”

“He’s unconscious, you lulkh!” “We need to get rid of that filthy Orc blade first. It’s stuck in ice.”

“Slowly now!” A sea of pain washed over Thorin, his whole body stiffening with each wave. But the darkness patiently waited for him and took him in its merciful arms once more.

***

“He’s still breathing!”

“Thorin, wake up! Wake up, ye lazy bastard!” someone growled straight into his ear. “Damn it!”

“Dwalin, look, we stopped the bleeding.”

Those voices again. Pulling Thorin back into consciousness. Into the pain and emptiness.

“Let’s finish dressing his wound and then we’ll take ‘im to Oín,” the growling one said.

“What’s that, Fili?” the young, familiar voice said. “Where?” “Over there, by that pointy rock on the other side of the river.”

“Looks like a dead Warg to me,” the one very close to him rasped out. A pair of hands kept on doing something to his chest. It hurt. He wanted it to stop.

“Too small for a Warg, Dwalin. It’s… by Mahal’s beard!”

“Where are you going, Fili? Wait for me!” The first voice sounded irritated.

A sound of hurried footsteps. Iron-heeled boots against ice.

“Those two can’t sit in one place in peace if their life depended on…” the raspily-sounding one grunted. “I tell ya, Thorin, when ye’re better, we’ll send them on guard duty. First morning shift for a month. That’ll teach ‘em!”

Somehow, it made Thorin want to smile. But now, even smiling hurt.

“It’s a raven! So big! Look at its wings! Why are you staring, Fili?” the youthful voice reached his ears again.

“I think it’s… the White Raven.”

“What?! It’s just a fairy tale!” “I’ve seen this raven before, Kili,” confidence rang in the second voice. “I think it followed us on the way to Erebor. It helped me fight off a Warg-rider in the Misties just before the eagles came.”

Thorin took a reluctant breath. His heartbeat thrummed in his ears.

“Whatever it is, it doesn’t look good. There is so much blood… Is it dead, Fili?” “Let me see… That’s a nasty wound.”

Thorin’s muscles tensed. He wanted to open his eyes. He wanted to speak. But his body didn't want to obey.

And then he heard two gasps at the same time.

“What’s happening?”

“Do you see it too, Fili?”

“It’s… it’s magic!”

“No, it’s a shapeshifter!”

“Look! Look!”

“A woman?!”

Both voices intermingled in Thorin’s exhausted mind, making less and less sense. He needed to act. He needed to… He breathed in. The air smelled like snowdrops.

“Thorin! Ye’re back! And here I was thinkin’…” A tattooed forehead and a bushy moustache appeared before his eyes. “Stop squeezing my hand so hard!”

“Carra…” Thorin managed to rasp out. He could barely keep his eyes open.

“What are ye sayin’?” Dwalin demanded.

“Help…. her…” He tried again. “She is…” “What? I can barely hear ye.”

The last wisps of strength were leaving him. He could feel the darkness beckoning to him once again. “Yasthûnê…” Thorin articulated slowly. “My… wife.”

***

Warm rays of sun gently caress Carra’s cheek, and she enjoys the sensation for a short while before opening her eyes. It takes her a moment to adjust to the bright light. She lays on soft ground, the strands of her silver-white hair interlacing with the lush green blades of grass. A multitude of colourful flowers adorns the meadow around her, their sweet fragrance wafting through the air, intertwining with the lazy buzz of bees. She rolls onto her back and stares at the perfectly clear blue sky above. Then she takes a deep breath. A distant echo of pain rings out in her mind, but there are no bruises or wounds on her body.

When a puffy white cloud drifts into her blurred field of vision, Carra wipes off the wetness from her cheeks, stands up, and looks around. The endless meadow seems to stretch for miles in every direction. A soft breeze kisses her face, bringing the faint sound of water lapping against a distant shore. She follows it, and soon, a sparse grove of trees appears in front of her. Beyond it, she sees a stream, its silvery current sparkling in the sun. For a brief moment, an orange butterfly dances just above her nose and then flies off towards the meadow behind her. Carra’s eyes follow its flight when a curious harmony of sounds draws her attention back to the stream.

Tap-tap. Swoosh. Tap-tap. Swoosh.

It seems to be coming from across the stream, and Carra decides to find its source.

Tap-tap. Swoosh. Tap-tap. Swoosh.

As she walks through the grove, she encounters a young doe nibbling on a nearby shrub. It glances at her curiously and then trots away, as if deciding that Carra’s presence is disturbing its meal.

Tap-tap. Swoosh. Tap-tap. Swoosh.

Carra walks on, her bare feet sinking into the silky soft moss, step after step, until she finds herself at the edge of the grove. The stream is only several steps ahead. Its murmuring waters bring a hum of voices.

Tap-tap. Swoosh. Ta-tap. Ta-tap. Tap.

An irritated sigh.

“Another broken thread?” A warm, feminine voice asks. It makes Carra think of spring in full bloom.

“Too many of them. It seems like another busy day for my husband.” Another woman speaks, her voice as melodious as the nearby stream.

“And you? You have been weaving since dawn,” the first one says.

“This pattern grows ever more complicated. It changes much too often for my taste these days.” The other woman sighs again. “Tell me that at least your work bears fruit.” “Some of these seeds refuse to sprout. The taint is spreading. I feel it in the earth.”

“The Fallen One is regaining his strength,” a third voice joins in. Deep and resonant. “I see his traces beyond the veil.”

Carra takes a careful step forward and focuses all of her attention at the opposite side of the stream. There, a garden of breathtaking beauty blooms before her eyes. Within it, she notices three silhouettes, the owners of the voices she hears. At first, their appearance seems similar to Elves, but soon after, Carra quickly understands her error. They are taller, their posture and movements are even more graceful, and there seems to be an otherworldly glow about them. Whenever she tries to look up into their faces, Carra has to squint—not only because of their radiance but also because their features seem to be ever-changing, fluid, like water in a mountain stream. Each of these noble figures is clad in finely ornamented robes that sway slightly when the same gentle breeze that brought her here plays with their hems.

One of the ladies kneels on the ground, ignoring the dirt stains on her garments. Their fabric is as green as her eyes. Her right hand rests over the brown, freshly turned soil and wisps of chestnut hair fall over her eyes. The other lady, her hair wavy and black as night, sits by a strangely-looking wooden frame with numerous threads attached to this elaborate contraption. Their colours form an intricate, multi-level pattern that seems to grow—bloom—in all directions in Carra’s eyes. She immediately feels dizzy and has to look away. Then her attention focuses on the third figure that joined the others a mere moment ago. A strapping man, his aspect equally stunning as those of his two companions, strolls towards them, his movements measured and dignified. As far as she can discern, he is clean-shaven, unlike Dwarves, and his long, white hair flows freely down his shoulders. In his hands, there is a silver jug, its surface glistening in the sun.

“Even though you bring morbid news, you are a welcome sight, brother-in-law!” the black-haired lady says, clasping her hands and moving away from her loom. “May I offer you some refreshment?” He bows reverently to his companions, and before they respond, he fills three silver cups with the contents of the jug.

Carra licks her parched lips.

“The sweet water from your fount!” The Green Lady stands up graciously and takes one of the cups.

“I know how fond you are of its taste.” The man’s hair dances in the wind as he speaks. An orange butterfly flutters among his flowing strands. “You come bearing gifts but it is not why you are here.” The Weaver looks into his eyes.

“I have simply come to admire your weaving skills,” he offers.

“Dear Dreamer, you are curious about my winged children, are you not?” The Green Lady gives him a nod.

“It is only natural,” he refills her cup. “Some of them bear our blessing, do they not?” “Indeed they do.” The Weaver approaches him with her cup and states, “How interesting that you chose today of all days.”

“My visions are blurred. Inconclusive.” He stills, gazing up into the sky, and then turning his attention back to the two women. “Tell me, have our gifts to them remained a blessing or have they rather turned into a curse?”

The Weaver sits back at her loom and looks closely at the glistening fabric; her fingers run along some part of the pattern hidden from Carra’s sight. “Your children have been fulfilling their duties well. Although the youngest one tends to make my work a tad more challenging.”

“The youngest one?” the man frowns.

“The one with wings dusted with silver.” The Green Lady takes a sip from her cup, her features schooled in a neutral expression.

“Silver? That certainly explains quite a bit. Your husband and his experiments…” The Weaver shakes her head. “Why now? Why this one?”

“I truly cannot say.”The Green Lady gives her an enigmatic smile and takes another sip. “But perhaps you would rather see her for yourselves.”

“Perhaps we would.” The Weaver’s fingers hover above the countless threads of her loom while the man nods. The butterfly lands on his shoulder, folding its orange wings.

“Very well. She has been listening to us long enough,” the Green Lady says, taking a look at the dark patch of planting ground under her feet. “Come, child.”

It takes Carra a blink of an eye to realise that she is not standing in the grove any longer. She gasps and blinks twice, but her eyes do not deceive her. Now she faces three luminous beings—in their garden across the stream.

“Great Mother!” she whispers and falls on her knees in front of the lady clad in green, bowing her head. In the presence of these great figures, blinded by their magnificent splendour, she feels like a feeble, featherless fledgling that fell out from its nest.

“Rise, Carra,” the Green Lady addresses her softly, and Cara does what she is told. “Do you know why you are here, my child?”

“I…” she croaks faintly, unable to stop staring into Great Mother’s incandescent face. A kaleidoscope of images fills her mind. The freezing ice. Thorin’s face when he notices her and his widened blue eyes. The Pale Orc, his teeth bare, with his blade pointed at her mate. Her bloodied talons clawing at Azog’s face. And then—darkness.

“I have died.” She hears her own voice.

In a blink of an eye, the images are gone, dispelled like a wisp of smoke on the wind. Only the orange butterfly swirls around her head.

“Do you know, child,” there is a frown on the Weaver's face when she turns to Carra from above her loom, “how thin these threads are? How delicate? Even the slightest whiff of wind can change the pattern—or destroy it as if it was a spider’s net.”

“I have only tried to protect the pattern,” Carra swallows, feeling three pairs of eyes on her.

“You have saved some vital parts of it, that is true, but I hear that you also left us with tangles in the weave,” now her life-giver speaks, her eyes glistening like emerald waters of a fathomless lake.

“Forgive me, Great Mother. The line of Durin had to stay unbroken. I did my best. But I have failed,” Carra hears her own trembling voice. “Darkness clouded my dreams…”

“And so you staked out your own path, Silver One,” the Weaver speaks as if to herself, patting her index finger against her lips in reverie. “Which left us with all those new thread combinations.”

Then she exchanges a glance with her companions, and the man called Dreamer speaks.

“See for yourself,” his eyes, grey like a wolf’s fur, rest on Carra. First, he raises his eyebrow but then motions her towards a small rock basin. She can swear that this object has not been there a moment ago. He takes the silver jug and fills the basin with a narrow, glistening stream of water. The orange butterfly dances above it and then rises above their heads. The water’s surface resembles a mirror, and Carra’s eyes are drawn to the movement she seems to see in its depths.

Countless veins of silver run through coarse stone walls of a cave, glittering like gossamer strands that cover foliage at dawn, but instead of dewdrops, tears flow down from a Dwarf-woman’s cheeks, following the crevices of her wrinkled face. She wears a crown of snow-white braided hair and a dark blue robe with golden ornaments. In her weatherworn hand, she holds a piece of parchment with a green, rectangular seal at the bottom. Beside her sits a slightly hunched elderly Dwarf with bushy, grey whiskers and rows of faded tattoos on his bald head.

“Now we are the last ones, Dwalin,” the Dwarf lady sobs. “My boys… My brothers… And then Balin… Dain and his son… Gone.”

“Aye,” the old warrior gently closes his hand over hers. “But they will not be forgotten.”

“Gone…” Carra’s lips tremble as she stops herself at the last moment from touching the water. As she moves her hand back, a curtain of ripples falls over the image, changing the scenery.

The image of the familiar green and black shape of the Great Gate of Erebor fills the rock basin. An army of Dwarves rides to battle on their war rams, led by the King Under the Mountain. Carra recognizes his blade at once. Orcrist. It is Thorin! She gasps. The Raven Crown graces his temples frosted with grey. And his beard has the same colouring as her feathers. Silver-white. As the events unfold, she recognizes them from her past dreams. The Dwarves of the Lonely Mountain and the Iron Hills join forces with the Men of Dale. The battle is long and bloody, but the allied forces ultimately crush their enemies. At that moment, the vision changes. She does not recognize this new detail. An armour-clad warrior rides from Dale on a white war ram. As soon as Thorin sees him, he dismounts, and soon both men greet each other with a strong embrace.

“The city is safe, adad!” The young warrior grins, taking off his helmet. The wind plays with his entangled hair, which seems to glow in the setting sun.

“You did well, Thráin,” Thorin replies, his gaze softening. He presses his forehead against Thráin’s and whispers, “You made me proud, son.”

A faint whiff of wind kisses the water’s surface, transforming it into a flurry of silvery ripples.

By a gilded cradle sits a young Dwarf-woman. Her chestnut hair glints as if enchanted with fire, contrasting with the snow-white laces of her sleeping gown. The mithril beads in her braids clink when she takes her babe into her arms, and a smile brightens her heart-shaped face.

“You will be a king one day,” she whispers lovingly, kissing her little one on his forehead. Quietly humming a sweet lullaby, she adjusts the blanket her son is wrapped in. Carra notices that its hem is embroidered with little black and golden ravens.

A sudden wrinkle on the water disturbs its surface, making the water glitter like diamonds.

A cold, pale sheen illuminates the green marble walls when the King Under the Mountain ensconces on his throne. The source of this light comes from a jewel of unmatched beauty set over the king's head. The golden and obsidian crown rests on his raven-black hair. But the ruler of Erebor, Thorin II Oakenshield, is not smiling. A deep, menacing frown darkens his face. In his hand, he holds a wide dwarvish sword. Blood drips from its tip onto the cracked marble floor. There is no red-haired Dwarf queen beside him. There are no children playing at his feet. There is only deathly silence. And the shadow he casts is that of a dragon.

When the visions finally fade, Carra finds herself staring into the bottomless depths of a pair of grey eyes. She does not notice when the orange butterfly lands on the edge of the empty jug.

***

“Carra…” her name sounded like a helpless croak. Thorin’s throat was parched.

It took him a while to regain all of his senses and open his eyes. He lay on a large cot in a spacious tent that looked suspiciously like a work of Elvish hands. He grunted. Every single part of his body seemed to hurt. Bandages covered most of his torso, and he could not move his arm without inducing even more pain.

A louder groan left his lips when he tried to sit up and failed. Something in the nearest corner of the tent moved.

“Your Majesty…” A young Dwarf in a healer’s tunic appeared seemingly out of nowhere. “You are awake!”

“Where…” Thorin coughed. Even breathing drained his strength.

“All is well, my lord. Try not to speak, please. The enemy is defeated. Erebor is once again ours.”

“Is… my…” His attempt at speaking failed once more.

“Your kin and companions are alive and well, Your Majesty.” A mug was pressed against his lips, and Thorin greedily drank its contents. He welcomed the sweet taste of water on his tongue. It probably came from the spring at Ravenhill.

Ravenhill.

His heart sank.

“Carra…? Where…?” he whispered. Every word felt like a struggle.

“Forgive me, my lord, who?” the healer frowned.

Thorin did not respond. He was already asleep.

***

“The White Raven?” Dain Ironfoot’s brow furrowed as he clutched a tankard in his hand. “Here, in Erebor? Are ye drunk, Fili?”

“It’d take more than a mug of ale to make me drunk, Uncle!” the young dwarf protested. “I swear on Mahal’s beard. She fought the Pale Orc together with Uncle Thorin and…”

“She?” said Agnarr, one of Dain’s captains who sat on his left, raising his eyebrows, which resembled a thick, black caterpillar.

“Aye! I found her myself! And then Tharkûn said… well, he didn’t want to say anything about her at first, but I convinced him to tell me…” Kili started with a mischievous smirk, only to be interrupted by his brother.

“He followed the wizard day and night and bombarded him with questions, until Tharkûn had enough,” Fili whispered conspiratorially, leaning towards Dain.

“Well, I convinced him, didn’t I?” Kili huffed. “The wizard said that if not for her, Thorin’s fate would have been very different! You saw that wound of his.” “Aye, if that orc blade went in a bit lower, he’d be resting in the catacombs together with the kings of old,” Ironfoot muttered under his breath.

“Exactly. Besides, before he left, Tharkûn mentioned something about treasure, too!”

“A treasure?” Dain Ironfoot asked.

Kili shrugged in response, “I don’t think he meant the gold in our mountain…”

“Wizards and their riddles…” Dori sighed, pouring himself another mug of ale.

“So ye’re telling me,” Dain demanded, “that a creature straight from our legends appeared out of thin air and fought the Pale Orc with Thorin? And that the White Raven is a woman?”

“And a pretty one, too!” Bofur winked. “That hair of hers…! White as snow!”

“More like silver-white to me,” Fili puffed out a cloud of pipeweed smoke.

“Was she not supposed to be a great bird? Like the legends say?” Dain grunted.

“She is!” Kili nodded eagerly. “I mean, she was a bird, but then she turned into a woman, I saw it with my own eyes!”

“Now she looks more like a Dwarf,” Fili added.

“A raven looking like a Dwarf?” Vari, son of Nari, another of Dain’s soldiers, scratched his bald head.

“And a bit like an Elf, too,” Kili grinned and waved his hand in the air. “She has pointy ears, you know. Ouch, Fili, why did you kick me?”

Dain groaned, “Pointy ears…? By Mahal’s beard, I think I need another mug of ale.”

“Are ye drinkin’ without us, ye sewer rats?” Dwalin appeared by the table, followed by his brother.

“We’re all celebratin’ our victory over the orcs and wargs!” Captain Agnarr pointed at the multiple groups of Dwarves gathered around them in one of the least ruined halls of the Lonely Mountain.

“There’s nothing better for a soldier’s morale than a few casks of the Iron Hills ale,” Balin sat beside him and poured two mugs—for himself and Dwalin. “What would you say about a toast?”

“To victory?” Ori proposed.

“We drank for that last time,” Vari shook his head.

“If all you said is true, lads,” Drengi, a large dwarf, said, two golden teeth glinting in his mouth, “we should be toasting the White Raven.”

“To the White Raven!” strong voices echoed against the ceiling of the cavern as more dwarves joined the toast with their mugs raised into the air.

“To Thorin Oakenshield, King Under the Mountain!”

“To King Thorin!”

“To the Lonely Mountain!”

“To the Longbeards!”

In the growing racket, Balin turned to Fili and Kili.

“What did you tell them, lads?”

“Nothing much besides what we saw when we found Uncle Thorin after the battle,” Fili said.

“And that the White Raven helped us during the Quest,” added Kili. “Fili, I completely forgot! Remember what Uncle Thorin called her when we were taking him back to the Lonely Mountain?”

Fili nodded, but before he answered, Balin put his hand on Kili’s shoulder.

“That, my boy, is better left unsaid.”

“But Uncle Dain said that the King Under the Mountain will need a queen now and that he has a perfect candidate for Uncle Thorin. How can Uncle Thorin marry her if he…” Kili continued.

“This is the conversation that Thorin—and Thorin only—needs to have with Dain. Do you understand?” the elderly dwarf searched their faces solemnly.

“Aye, Uncle Balin, we do,” Fili reassured him.

***

“...since we moved his majesty into the Mountain. His fever has dropped and the wounds are healing well but he keeps on asking about someone named Carra.”

“Thank you, Nari, you were most helpful. Try to catch some sleep. I will stay with him now.” Words spoken in a soothing timbre of voice reached Thorin through the haze of dreams.

“Balin?” he blinked a few times, trying to chase the drowsiness away.

“I’m here, laddie,” a familiar silhouette in a burgundy robe stood before him. “You gave us a scare for a wee moment there.”

Thorin could not stop himself from smiling at the sight of the familiar face of his old mentor. As he attempted to sit up, an intense spike of pain ran through the left side of his body. The only thing he managed to do was lift his head slightly. At that moment, an additional pillow was placed beneath it. He grunted. At least the Dwarvish beds were much more comfortable than the Elvish ones.

“Carefully now, laddie. No sudden movements. Your foot needs time to heal properly. Your left shoulder and arm were badly injured too. The healers had to use a splint…”

It was a challenge to focus on Balin’s words, but as the dizziness subsided, Thorin’s thoughts became more coherent. Various parts of his body ached, his left leg felt heavy, and he could not move his left arm—it was indeed encased in a splint, exactly like Balin said—but he was able to take a look around the room. Even if he did not recognize this particular place, he recognized its walls hewn from the same greenish rock as the walls of the old chambers he used to live in as a young prince. A lifetime ago. And now, he was home again. Home.

“Tell me everything. Is Erebor safe?” With a pained grunt, he turned towards Balin.

“Aye. Worry not, the Mountain is well-protected. Dain is here with his warriors. We are working on making our home liveable again,” Balin replied, patting Thorin’s right hand, which lay on the bed. “You did well, laddie. The corridors and caverns are echoing with stories about the return of the King Under the Mountain who killed the Pale Orc and avenged his esteemed grandsire.”

Killed. He swallowed, attempting to ignore the memories of that fight that came back to him like an unstoppable flood—and of the price he paid to survive. Or rather, the price someone else paid for him. He lost her.

“King? Me? A Dwarf who succumbed to the curse that plagues his house? Who valued hoarded gold over…” With a sneer, Thorin looked away, his voice hollow. “I am not worthy of that title, Balin. Not any longer.”

“Do you remember that audience in the throne room when King Thrór met with the refugees from the White Mountains? You were still a prince at that time.”

“How could I forget? Not only did I break protocol, but also I interrupted Grandfather. I declared that if he would not send his troops, I would fight the Orcs who invaded their homes—on my own. Mother was truly ashamed of me on that day. And Father would not speak to me for a month.” “Ah, the impulsiveness of youth,” Balin nodded. “But you have always had your heart in the right place. Do you remember what I told you on that very day?”

“Life is like a battle. When you fall, you have to rise again and fight. Otherwise you lose,” Thorin said under his breath. He recalled the countless nights when he whispered those words to himself, lying on the hard ground, far from home, when the thought of retribution was the only thing that drove him forward.

“We reclaimed our homeland thanks to you. You overcame the curse and led us to victory. You have fought and won this great battle, Thorin,” the elderly Dwarf spoke softly.

“I did not. Not alone,” Thorin admitted, unable to look Balin in the eye, his throat constricted. Something ached in his chest, and it was not his wound. “I had help.”

“Indeed. I saw the Pale Orc’s corpse. It bore marks of dwarven weapons… and others that bore resemblance to talons and a beak,” the older Dwarf said.

Thorin did not reply. Not because he chose not to speak but because the right words would not come to him.

After a pause, his mentor added, “Fili claims that he heard a deafening sound, like a large bird’s screech, only moments before they caught sight of you on the frozen river.”

“A screech…” Thorin repeated to himself. Something stirred in his mind; Azog’s hideous grimace, the ice beneath him reverberating with a strange sound that filled the air, and the moment when the tip of Orcrist’s blade plunged into the Orc’s chest. He blinked several times. His own words rang in his ears.

“Carra, no!”

He remembered the darkness that came afterwards. And pain.

A life for a life.

It should have been him.

Balin’s voice seemed to come from far away.

“... I heard the guards retelling the old legends of the White Raven. And a new tale is spreading through Erebor: a story about a large, white-feathered raven that bravely fought by the King Under the Mountain’s side at Ravenhill,” he said.

Thorin remained silent, staring at the white sheets that covered him. White as ice on that day. White as the feathers in her wings. He felt cold.

Silence seemed to stretch between them like the bottomless chasm beneath the Mountain until Balin spoke again.

“Help me understand this, laddie.”

Reluctantly, Thorin’s fingers found the leather band strung around his neck and pulled it from under the blankets that covered him. His old friend’s eyes widened at the sight of a silver-white feather.

“The White Raven…” The words in Thorin’s mouth tasted like ash. “Carra. I have known her for most of my life. After Smaug's attack, she left her nest behind and followed me to the Blue Mountains.” Thorin met his mentor’s eyes.

“The White Raven... The stuff of legend, eh?” Balin hummed, examining the feather with reverence.

“I am aware of what it must sound like. Legend or not, she is real. She was,” he corrected himself, swallowing hard. “At Ravenhill… Had she not intervened, Azog would have taken my life. She chose ’ugbalul ’uhaskhajam and gave her life for me instead.”

“Thorin… By Mahal’s hammer, laddie, what are you saying?” The feather fell from his mentor’s hand onto the bed. “’Ugbalul ’uhaskhajam, the act of sacrificing one’s life in battle to protect another, is only performed by one’s kin!”

“Or a spouse,” explained Thorin flatly.

Balin looked down at the silver-white feather and then glanced towards the door before speaking again.

“Dwalin told me that you spoke of a wife,” the elderly Dwarf said. “We thought it might have been your feverish mind speaking, nothing more.”

“It was not. She is… Carra was my wife, Balin.” His own whisper sounded hollow.

Balin stayed silent for a few heartbeats and then cleared his throat, as if deciding on something.

“That certainly explains quite a bit—including a very curious occurrence. You see, Thorin, after the battle, we did not find any signs of this revered bird at Ravenhill. Instead, there is a strange woman of mysterious provenance in our infirmary, and the healers…”

“Here, in Erebor?! Alive?” Thorin grabbed Balin’s sleeve, seeing him nod. “Tell me, what colour is this woman’s hair?!”

“Her hair is like this feather: white, dusted with silver,” his mentor replied. “She lives and is under good care. We brought her into the Mountain together with you, but...”

“Thank Mahal!” Thorin rested on his right arm, lifting his upper body as much as he could. “Balin, take me to her at once!”

Swiftly, he moved to the side in an attempt to rise from the bed while a pang of pain shot through his body, sudden like lightning. He fell onto his pillows, taking deep breaths and fighting a wave of dizziness.

“I am afraid you are in no shape to walk, laddie,” Balin rested his hand on his uninjured shoulder. “You are on the mend, but the healers say that you will need time to…”

“Balin! By Mahal’s beard!” Thorin fisted his hand, trying to curb his temper and ignore the pain. “Do you not understand? I need to see her!”

“You are as stubborn as your grandfather,” the elderly Dwarf shook his head in defeat. “Let me talk with Nari and see what can be done. I will be back in a jiffy.”

Balin’s jiffy felt like an eternity to Thorin, but he waited, albeit impatiently.

Carra was alive.

💙💙💙 Read it? Like it? Spread the love and reblog it! 💙💙💙

📜 Searching for more stories to read? Check out my masterlist!📜

Do you like my writing? Would you like to read more? Feel free to show your support by having a Ko-fi with me! Thank you 💙

Taglist: @fizzyxcustard @shrimpsthings @dark-angel-is-back @sherala007 @anyaspidergirl-blog @jotink78 @rachel1959 @saltwater-in-the-afternoon @linasofia @justfollowtheroad @bitter-sweet-farmgirl @yourqueenunderthemountain @reblogunderthemountain @guardianofrivendell @elrawienthewhite @xmly-xo @mrsdurin @nelleedraws @beenovel @vee-vee-writes @mcchiberry @dumbassunderthemountain @errruvande @laurfilijames @emrfangirl @s0ftd3m0n @lilith15000 @kami-chan1512 @ragsweas @enchantzz @aduialel @myselfandfantasy @thewhiteladyofrohan @middleearthpixie @blairsanne @fckmini @clumsy-wonderland @narniaandthenorth @i-am-the-raven-queen @wormsmith @mailinsblogofstuff @medusas-hairband @xxbyimm @knittastically @saucyminxbrainspill @quiall321 @frosticenow

#thorin oakenshield #richard armitage #thorin x oc #the hobbit #the white raven #thorin fic #tolkien #thorin #silmarillion #fanfic #ravens #erebor #middle earth #yavanna #aule #mahal #irmo lorien #vaire #valar

101 notes · View notes

kloppinthekop · 1 year ago

Text

꧁ hello! ꧂

amy ᝰ ❧ scorpio sun and moon, she/they, grey-ace, 30s

i support liverpool f.c. (epl) and mclaren (f1). faves include: dominik szoboszlai, lando norris, oscar piastri, and carlos sainz jr.

→ formula 1 sideblog: carlandoscars ←

i have a ph.d. in english literature, specializing in science fiction, but i really only write for fun these days.

other interests include: kate bush (queen of my heart), goth and post punk music/subculture, horror and sci-fi films, jane austen, mary shelley (i am always ready to bring frankenstein into any conversation), orphan black, star trek, studio ghibli, and more.

a masterlist of my fics and other scribblings are below the cut! a gentle reminder that i do not take requests for fics; however, headcanons are welcome and my askbox is open!

you can find most of my fics on archive of our own (ao3). some may be archive-locked (only viewable to users who are logged in on ao3). fics are sorted by type, ship/pairing, and then alphabetically listed within each category (for the most part). ratings are indicated in parentheses next to each title. if you are under the age of 18, please do not interact with any mature/explicit fics. full list of tags and any potential content warnings are available on ao3. masterlist to be updated periodically.

꧁DOMITRENT꧂ (dominik szoboszlai/trent alexander arnold)

dream come true (M, eventually E) 𝔰𝔱𝔞𝔱𝔲𝔰 ➾ [work in progress]

→ Dominik, whose dreams of becoming a professional football player ended years ago due to injury, has dedicated himself to a new passion: physiotherapy. After moving to Liverpool to complete his studies, he meets Trent, a local lad whose dream of playing in the first team is about to come true. But what if, in meeting one another, their dreams become intertwined?

꧁HENDOLLANA꧂ (jordan henderson/adam lallana)

borne in red (E; dubcon) → In a world where men have been discovered to be infertile, the few men who are not sterile are forced into service of Captains and their Wives. Adam Lallana is one of these "studs," also known as Reds. He is also, dangerously, in love with men. Over a course of Ceremonies, he discovers that his Captain has a secret, and that his proclivities may be indeed similar to Adam's own desires…

A Hendollana AU based on Margaret Atwood's novel, The Handmaid's Tale.

⟡ by chapter: chapter one: waiting | chapter two: discovering | chapter three: being | chapter four: waiting | chapter five: coda

꧁DOMITRENT꧂ (dominik szoboszlai/trent alexander arnold)

we lit the fire and it's burning bright (E) → After the Liverpool vs Manchester City game (where Trent scores the equaliser), Dom takes Trent back to his apartment and proceeds to take him apart with his hands and lips.

working on the riddle of your heart (E) → Dominik can’t stop thinking about Trent. Ever since pre-season training, he has been obsessed. God, Dominik wants to be possessed by Trent.

you're out there killing the game (E) → Trent gets his arse out for all to see, but Dom wants it to be just his.

꧁CARRAVILLE꧂ (jamie carragher/gary neville)

gary knows; or, gary the fool in liverpool (T) → Liverpool’s lost the league, and Gary’s lost his damn mind.

a christmas carraville (merry crimbo, ye big lug) (G) → God I love him, but my husband is an idiot, Jamie thinks. In which Gary Neville and Jamie Carragher are married, but Gary doesn't know it yet.

champagne supernova (happy new year, ye tosser) (T) → It's New Year's Eve, and all Carra can think about is whether a certain Manc will kiss him at midnight. Maybe a little liquid courage will help light the way.

package deal (it's valentine's day, ye dimwit) (E) → Gary's got a Valentine’s date with an idiot.

꧁GERLONSO꧂ (steven gerrard/xabi alonso)

days of legends past (G) → "When you left, it broke my heart." Three vignettes related to various and sundry myths and legends.

꧁HENDOLLANA꧂ (jordan henderson/adam lallana)

fools in love (G; archive-locked) → aka, five times that other people noticed Jordan and Adam were dating before they did, and one time they finally realize that they’ve been a couple all along.

hounds of love (G; archive-locked) → Jordan's not sure what his soulmark will be yet, but what he does know is that he's terrified. A slow-burn soulmate AU.

merry to go 'round (G; archive-locked) → The lads buy a house together at the end of the 2026 World Cup campaign, and not a single one of their teammates (former teammates now) are surprised.

soft lad (E; archive-locked) → Five-hundred twenty-five thousand six-hundred minutes… it took a span of two pre-seasons for Hendo to realize that he was in love.

vignettes: tickertape (G; archive-locked) → After the trophy lift, Hendo searches for a tangible piece of memory…

vignettes: turf (G; archive-locked) → Lallana leaving LFC, but choosing a certain squad number for familiarity…

꧁OTHER SHIPS꧂

put myself on a pedestal - virgil van dijk/jarell quansah (E) → After the Union Saint-Gilloise match, Jarell says some things to the press that perhaps ought not to have been said. It's Virgil's job to educate him. But perhaps there are things that Virgil also ought not to say out loud… Then, Jarell comes over to his house one night after training, and Virgil finds a more effective way to stop Jarell from saying stupid things.

eu sou... - eric dier/dele alli (G; archive-locked) → Dele is um idiota but so is Eric. Pining ensues. footballers watch: eurovision 2019 - multi-ship (G; archive-locked) → What it says on the tin. [Pairings include: Carraville, Hendollana, Gerlonso, Deledier, and other random cameos.]

꧁GEN FICS꧂

klopp in the kop, forever - jürgen klopp (G) → Jürgen Klopp, the normal one, is about to live a normal life, for the first time in his life.

vignettes: takumi (G; archive-locked) → Second day at Anfield • Daemon!fic aka His Dark Materials/Football RPF