#he would prepare/have prepared the finest of feasts with the best of foods and then eat it all himself

[bayofalgecirascranes]

I can see Alphonse being either a Greed or a Gluttony (after a fashion) but the more I think about it, the more I see him as Greed. His friends and family are his and woe betide all those who would do his friends harm.

We've all heard of Pride!Ed, but if Alphonse were a homunculus, who would he be?

[yuesgirlfriend]

of birds and honey

part 1

(simon "ghost" riley x reader) medieval AU

summary: the year is 1312, and your fathers knight follows you to the wood.

The great hills surrounding the castle are a patchwork of green and yellows, as they always are during the summer months. Gray skies up ahead do nothing to dampen the mood of the castle; everyone is bustling about, preparing for the feast marking the new battalions arrival, as if their presence signifies something happier than impending war. 

She can see them, now, where she is perched atop the highest wall-practiced, without fear- in a way her old governesses would have certainly called unbecoming of a lady. But did not the bible speak of the virtues of a young lady- justice, fortitude, among them?

(It takes great fortitude to learn the secrets she has learned, to climb over steep walls like they were bales of hay, to listen to words she would have heard anyway, had she been born a man. Listening from the eaves and skulking about is an act of justice, not a sin.) 

The men, traversing down the trail, look like ants, she thinks- where she sits high above them, balancing on the stone, they look like children's toys. Tiny wooden figures, a small boy's idea of heroes, lined up on the yellow-green patchwork quilt. 

When they finally ride over the moat and into the stronghold, they look like any other collection knights she has seen- some cloaked, some helmetless, all shining in the half clouded, setting sun. 

That night is boisterous and rowdy, like any other feast. The courtyard is crowded with people- servants, villagers, everyone coming together to eat and drink and be merry. The tables are laden with the finest of foods. The smell of roast goose and heron, wine, and vomit hangs in the night air with the shouts and bawdy songs. The new knights drink and eat and throw things, singing their songs with everyone else.  The castle hums with life, every voice and every soul another cell in one great organism. 

(The whole time, she sits quietly as a lady should, but listens as a lady shouldn’t. No one notices, and why would they notice the Lord’s waif of a girl, silently eating at his right hand? The servants, the townspeople, even her father speak of her when they think she isn’t listening- she is, to them, as unnaturally quiet as a changeling and as likely to smile as a mourner. Such a shame, my lord, that  her birth took your wife, god rest her soul. And for the child to not even be a boy…)

The stories that feast are rambling and, wine drunk, but the message is clear- they are hired soldiers with no Christian names, under orders from the king to protect the stronghold that is her home.

But one stands out. The only one still wearing his painted  helmet, and as such doesn’t eat or drink with his companions. Instead, he sits on her fathers left side, speaking in low and gruff tones only when spoken to. 

She picks at her food as her ears pick up words like more men and allies and a thousand dead, all spoken in an accent she thinks more suited to a farmer than a soldier.

As the feast begins to die down, dancers lying about drunk, he walks with her Lord father, presumably to show him a weak point in the castle walls.

She follows along, unseen, silent footsteps trailing behind them in the shadows. The knight with the painted helmet is tall and broad when he waves a hand at a wall that, upon closer inspection, does seem weaker than the rest. A chink in the castle’s armor, he says. 

The fire dies out, people lay around in drunken heaps, and rats are scurrying for food in corners of the room by the time she retires for the night. Her maid is nowhere to be found- based on the way the Scotsman and her were wrapped around eachother earlier, it is likely best not to go looking for her- so she wanders alone to her quarters, a candle in one hand and a half eaten honey cake in the other. 

The halls are dimly lit labrynths, and every footstep she takes makes a wet scuff along the perpetually damp straw covering the chilled stone floors. She does not believe in sneaking about when not needed, and enjoys a reprieve from constant surveillance as she licks honey carelessly from her fingers, focusing more on the sweetness of the honey cake than her surroundings.

And just as she turns the corner to the starcase, a hand shoots out from a shadow  and grabs her arm. 

Her gasp is muffled by a large hand, gloved. His other hand plucks the candle from her grasp, rests it on the narrow windowsill behind him. She scrapes and thrashes at the silver of his forearm, scrambling to reach for the knife at his side before he speaks. 

“Pray, be silent, Lady- I know you are able.”

In response, she bites down on the gloved hand, hard. The man hisses but doesn’t let go, only roughly spins her to face him; and this is when she realizes it is the helmeted knight, eyes and armor shiny in the candlelight. 

She shoves at his arms, and he concedes, letting her retreat three steps up the stairs before he takes her by the hand again. 

“Release me, sir, or you will not enjoy the consequences,” She hisses. Something furious inside her is growing like a wildfire. 

“I meant no offense, but only to warn you, fair lady,” he says, seemingly contrite, but with mirth in his voice. Is he smiling, behind that hideous helmet? 

“Warn me?” She rips her hand from his. “Of what? Churlish knights, skulking behind corners?” She turns to go. 

“You are one to scold on skulking behind corners, Lady. ” Her feet freeze where they are on the steps. 

 “Yes.” His voice is rough. “You are not as invisible as you may think- not to those trained to see, Lady.  You should exercise more caution, when listenin’ from rafters and castle walls like a little bird.” He tilts his head, eyes trained on her, like a cat looking at a tree it’d like to climb. Or a bird it’d like to claw.

“I have been told you have a lovely mind. It would be a waste to see it dashed on a tower’s stony base.” 

For the first time in ages, she forces her eyes to meet anothers. His are dark, redless, with what looks like coal smudged on his eyelids and undereyes. His eyes never falter from her stare, as would be proper. His pale lashes don’t so much as flutter. 

She turns and continues walking upstairs- but before she rounds the corner, she looks behind and down to where he stands, at the base of the stairs, licking remnants of honey off his glove. 

[only-lonely-stars]

Hair As Gold As Straw (Chapter 8 - Eyes Being Opened)

[Prologue] // [Chapter 7 of 9] // [Chapter 8 of 9 - you are here!] // [Chapter 9 of 9] // [Epilogue] – (FFN) (AO3)

Part of the @ninjago-fairy-tale-au!

Summary:

Once upon a time, Princess Vania of Shintaro lived in an ivory castle in an ivory city. Her father, King Vangelis, kept her safe in her tower, where no one could hurt her and she could not hurt herself... until the day when she ran away. A Colania Snow White retelling.

Chapter summary:

Something strange is afoot, and Princess Vania misses her own welcoming banquet.

In the evening, Cole and the Upply met each other, that they might attend the king's feast. Like the princess, they had prepared themselves, dressed in their finest attire. Fungus wore his best robes (freshly laundered thanks to the castle staff), Plundar a fine silk shirt courtesy of a royal guard, and Korgran wore a simple shirt and pants. Cole, too, felt like a new man after having rested; he wore a suit one might call "princely," made of the finest royal silk, given to him as a gift from the king. Despite the strangeness of wearing such clothing, it was not unwelcome. He wondered what his mother would think of him, and how proud his father would be.

When the four men arrived at the feast, they were amazed at the decadence. Hundreds of Shintarans were assembled in a great room, in which several tables were piled high with the finest foods. They wore the finest clothing the adventurers had ever seen, laughing and socializing like friends with everyone. At the head of the room was King Vangelis, seated in a throne-like chair and being attended by several people. To his right laid four empty seats in the place of honor. To his left laid one, obviously belonging to the princess, who was once again absent.

The four adventurers approached the king and took their places. He turned to them and smiled.

"Ah, my good men. I am glad you have found your way. The feast is about to begin."

"Where is Princess Vania, your Majesty?" Fungus asked. "We have not seen her since this morning."

"I am sure she is still preparing herself," the king assured.

"It ain't like her to be so slow," Plundar said.

"Yes. Korgran wants to see her," the barbarian added.

"You will," Vangelis said pacifyingly. "For now, we may begin; I am sure her entrance will come later. This has happened before, as I'm sure you remember from this morning." He tapped his crystal wine goblet with a fork and it rang like a bell. At the sound, every mingling Shintaran took a seat, and the king stood to address them.

"Loyal men and women of Shintaro, tonight we honor four brave men for their service to our kingdom. Together, these four have rescued Princess Vania from the depths of the mountain!" The crowd cheered, and after a moment the king held up his hand to silence them. "One of them in particular has undertaken hardship to rescue our beloved princess, my daughter." He turned to Cole. "Stand, Sir Cole."

Cole stood, and the assembly cheered for him.

"You have done us a great and honorable service. May the future smile upon you," he said charmingly.

"Thank you, your Majesty. Your praise is humbling." Cole bowed.

"As is your service." The king waved his hand over the whole assembly. "Tonight, we feast in honor of the princess and her savior!" With that, he sat down, and Cole did the same.

The entire assembly began the feast, and for a little while it proceeded as one would expect, with raucous laughter and conversation filling the room. Cole checked the doors to the hall frequently, but Vania never passed through them. The Upply likewise checked, but each of them seemed too interested in their food to be as concerned as he. Eventually, Cole decided to ask the king again about her whereabouts.

"Your Highness, Princess Vania is still not here. Has something happened to her?"

The king nodded, suddenly seemingly upset. "I'm afraid so. She is ill tonight; it came on suddenly this afternoon. She will be unable to join us."

"When did you find out about this?" Cole asked, suspicious.

"One of my staff came to tell me just a few minutes ago. I am deeply sorry, Cole."

"I do not recall a servant coming nearby." The king shrugged off the comment, so Cole pried more. "What is the nature of her illness, your Majesty? Would she at all be well enough to join us, if only for a little while?"

Vangelis seemed to be annoyed by this question. "I am afraid not. She is currently sleeping; her illness has made her very tired."

"She exhibited no symptoms of illness on the journey to the surface."

"Her maidservant noticed her first feeling ill late this afternoon, about when she was starting to ready herself for this evening."

"Yet she is now sleeping?"

"I believe this has been made quite clear." The king's face hardened. "I do not believe you are ignorant. Should I consider myself mistaken?"

Cole shook his head. "Certainly not, your Highness. My parents made sure that I was well educated in many things, such as health. However, I have never once heard of an illness that causes such unforeseen lethargy as you say the princess is experiencing. Does this illness have a name?"

"As a matter of fact, it does not, as far as I am aware," the king said, teeth gritted. His eyes sparked, green irises shining like flame.

Cole surveyed him, brows furrowing. After a moment, he stood and faced the king.

"You have just answered my next question, King Vangelis." His voice echoed around the hall, the sound of the king's name turning every head. The room slowly quieted, hushed whispers washing across the assembly. Cole waited for them to subside before speaking again. "Princess Vania is not ill. She has been put under the control of an enchantment."

A few quiet gasps were heard. The king stood and faced him in return. "How can you be sure of this? I have not heard of such an enchantment, nor is there any sorcerer in Shintaro."

"In that, you are wrong. There is a sorcerer in Shintaro, one which you know well." Cole looked over the people and then back at the king. "You are the one who has put Princess Vania to sleep!"

The entire hall murmured in shock and outrage.

"How could you possibly have come to such a conclusion?" Vangelis asked. "It may not be clear to you, but I love my daughter."

"She would not have run away if she felt loved." Cole raised his chin defiantly. "If you truly love her, you would not have trapped her in her room. You would not have forced away her companions. You would not have isolated her, nor enchanted her. You would have shown her compassion and the care of a father."

"I have shown her great kindness. I have provided for her and kept her safe. I have taken great strides to find her a strong, moral husband, so when she inherits the kingdom, it will be guided well."

"You have demeaned her!" Cole interjected. "She is not unfit to rule simply because she is a woman."

"She is unfit to rule because she is foolish and headstrong!" The king's anger flared like fire, the air around him seeming to heat with every word he spat. "She has never listened to my guidance, but instead has the infernal curiosity of a child. Her mother warned me on her death bed that Vania's curiosity would be the end of her, so I have striven to prevent such a thing."

Cole's heart beat like a heavy hammer. "You stifled her!"

"It was for her own good."

"Whether it was or not, she only suffered. She was miserable."

"How would an outsider know? You are not part of our family. You know nothing of our lives," Vangelis accused.

"She confided in me, just as I saw her in the mirror you gave me. You enchanted that, too, so you could watch her." Cole held it up, and it flashed in the light of the hall. "Perhaps I should ask it again, so it can show me if you're telling the truth about her condition."

"By all means, do so. You will find I have not lied," the king said, his shoulders taut.

Cole laid the mirror on the table, where everyone could see it. "Show me the princess."

Once more, the mirror flashed blindingly, green light enveloping the room. The assembly shielded their eyes. When they could see again, gasps filled the room. In the mirror was an image of Vania, dressed in her finest gown of black and gold, motionless on her bed with Chompy sleeping beside her. Her eyes were closed peacefully, and she betrayed no emotion at all; if not for the rise and fall of her chest, she would seem dead. Her sleep was unnaturally still, her poise too perfect. The enchantment was clear to see.

The image faded after a short while, and Cole pocketed the mirror again. He turned back to the king. "The mirror is your handiwork."

"Very well, it is. However, where is the harm in a simple mirrorsight enchantment, that I might watch over my daughter?" the king asked. "It is a spell many can learn; it does not make me a sorcerer."

"That is untrue!" Fungus cried. "Mirrorsight is an advanced spell, known by students of Hazza D'ur's magic. It took me many years to learn it."

"I'll bet it's not the only thing you've lied about," Plundar added. "That dagger in Cole's room was yours, wasn't it? No guard could have a gold dagger; it's too nice for 'em."

"Korgran never liked King Vangelis. Too proud. Too many secrets." Korgran hefted his axe. "If he lies more, he backs them up with proof, or fights!"

At this point, the crowd in the hall was murmuring to themselves, some voices crying out indistinctly. It was clear that they were angry, so Cole seized the opportunity.

"Korgran's right," he announced. "If you want your people to believe you, you should fight to prove yourself. They deserve a king who tells the truth, not falsehoods, and will fight for them."

The king seemed to relent, although angry. "Very well. We fight in the gardens, one against one. You shall prove yourself, too."

"What are the terms?"

The king's green eyes flared again. "To first blood. Insolence must be punished. You will be cast out upon my victory."

"...I accept the terms," Cole said warily, "on one condition. If I win, you must abdicate the throne." He held out his hand to shake the king's. "Do we have a deal?"

Vangelis shook it. "We do."

-----

A short time later, the crowd gathered in the gardens of the palace. On one side stood the king, flanked by a group of guards and holding both a spear and a skull that burned with magical green flame. On the other, Cole stood with the Upply, hefting his golden scythe from hand to hand. Between them, a guard stood in the middle of the makeshift arena.

"The fight will be to first blood!" the guard reiterated. "None may interfere." Cole and Vangelis locked eyes.

"Let the battle begin!" the guard shouted, taking off into the air.

Within moments, the two men clashed, scythe against spear. The sound echoed off the walls of the gardens. They drew back and clashed again, pushing against each other forcefully, locked against each other in a deadly game.

Vangelis was the first to retreat. He pulled back his spear and summoned the skull, which flew to his hand. With it, he cast a burst of green flame, which fell on Cole. The knight cried out in pain, falling to his knees and digging the handle of his scythe into the ground.

The torrent of fire cascaded over Cole's head and shoulders, enshrouding him in flame. All was green. For a moment, he thought he saw his mother; then his father, and the master who had taught him. They passed through his mind fleetingly, but it was enough.

Slowly, he forced himself to stand. In his surprise, Vangelis let the fire cease. It was then that Cole seized his scythe and began to attack again. With a fury, he swung and jabbed, advancing on Vangelis with every movement. The king lifted the skull up to block an attack, but in his rage, Cole threw it aside, where it shattered on the paved path.

Vangelis brought up his spear next, and they clashed again with a great ringing sound. Cole glared at him, and the king glared back. Then, Cole drew back and swung wide.

For a moment, there was stillness. Vangelis lifted his spear, intent on attacking, but paused.

Cole watched as he lifted his fingers to his cheek, brushing it. His hand came away red, bloodied.

Vangelis looked up at Cole in shock.

Cole rested his scythe on the ground, then turned to look at the guard from before. "First blood," he announced.

The crowd erupted in outrage and celebration, equal in intensity. The guards were quick to come to Vangelis, taking away his spear. Cole turned back to him, his face stony.

"Do you yield?"

The king lowered his head, anger overtaking his features. Cowardly as ever, he did not look up at Cole. "...I yield."

"Good. Do you step down from the throne?"

"...I abdicate the throne of Shintaro," he gritted.

Cole nodded. "Very well. Now, I must go tend to your daughter."

"You will not be able to wake her," Vangelis said, his tone almost pleased. "The enchantment can only be broken by me, or someone I authorize."

"I will do what I can. I will save her again," Cole said, before turning and entering the palace, the Upply following behind him.

-----

The trip back to Princess Vania's room was a brief one. Cole rushed to reach it, passing by many confused guards. He only paused for a moment, and only once, to look at the alcove from the night before. It brought him a smile, but his face hardened in determination mere moments later.

At last, he came to her door, where two guards were stationed. They blocked the doors with their spears.

"We cannot let you in," they told him.

"Your king has abdicated the throne," Cole told them. "Stand down."

"King Vangelis would never do such a thing," they insisted. "He is our ruler!"

"He has surrendered the title after a trial by combat. Stand down!" Cole repeated. "I must see the princess."

After a moment of trepidation, the guards unblocked the doors. Cole strode past them, opening the doors with enough force to rock their hinges. They slammed behind him within moments as he rushed to Vania's bed, running in his haste.

When he reached her bedside, Cole had to stop himself, unable to keep himself from admiring her. Just like she had looked in the mirror, Vania was the picture of beauty; her golden hair was spread out on the pillows behind her, and her eyes were shut lightly, as if she could open them and look at him any moment. Her hands were folded, resting lightly on her stomach, as if she were peacefully waiting for something.

Cole smiled, but it was pained deeply. He sighed. "Vania… wake up."

She gave no answer.

Next, he took her hand in his and kissed it. "Vania, please. Wake up."

She laid still, having not moved at all.

Finally, Cole sat on the edge of the bed. He looked down at her sleeping form, heart clenched painfully in his chest. He put a hand on her cheek, his thumb brushing against it gently, her ivory skin without blemish.

An old memory came to Cole as he sat with her. It was one of his mother from when he was a child. She had read him stories of magic and mystery, filled with dashing heroes and beautiful enchanted princesses. He had not believed them then, but he believed them now; life had proved them in the painful way it wished, mocking him. However, one thing his mother said came back to him, clear as day.

"In many stories, and in real life too, there are insurmountable obstacles. However, the one thing they can never stop is the power that comes from truly loving someone. Through that, you can overcome anything."

Cole bowed his head, knowing what he had to do. He leaned over Vania's sleeping body, his hand still on her cheek.

"...I'm sorry, Vania." With those words, he kissed her, slow and deliberate. When he came away, memories of the night before flooded his mind.

For several heart-wrenching moments, Vania did not move, as if nothing had even happened. Cole searched her face, but found no sign of life. "Vania…" he muttered, his heart breaking in his chest.

After seeing no response, he finally threw caution to the wind. If she was to sleep under enchantment forever, it would not be because he was too fearful to save her.

With his resolution in mind, Cole leaned down and kissed her, pouring his hope into it. This kiss was desperate and brief, over too soon, but it didn't matter to him– all he wanted was for her to wake up. Against her lips, he once again whispered, "wake up," before drawing away.

After another quiet moment moment, the princess' eyes fluttered, slowly opening so she could look up at the ceiling. When she finally looked at him, her gaze filled with confusion. He drew back, unable to speak as she woke up.

"Cole…?" she asked, managing to sit up.

"Vania..." he breathed, taking her hands in his. "You're awake."

She nodded. "I am."

His face broke into a beaming smile. "You're awake!"

She laughed and nodded again, taking his hands. "Yes!"

Cole laughed, disbelieving. He let go of her hand, but only so he could bring it to rest on her cheek. "Vania, I…"

She nestled her face in his hand. "What is it?"

"I woke you."

"You did? How?" she asked.

Instead of answering, he smiled and kissed her again. Immediately, she reciprocated, their instant connection stronger than steel.

When they separated, Vania smiled at him, affection filling her very presence. "You woke me up with a kiss?" she asked.

"I did," he replied, cheeks flushing red. "I'm sorry I couldn't wake you another way."

She laughed, lighter than a feather, and kissed him again before answering. "Oh, Cole… I can think of no better way to wake."

[novacorpsrecruit]

You and Me (in the center of the apocalypse) on Ao3

─── ⋆⋅chapter 3 posted!!⋅⋆ ──

“Hey.”

Eddie turned his head to the edge of the trailer’s roof. A box held up, just barely above the metal shingle.

“Can you help me?” Steve’s voice called from below. He gave the box a gentle wiggle to emphasize the assistance needed. Eddie let out a laugh.

“I guess so.” He pushed himself off the blanket laid out on the roof and half hustled over to the box. He took it from Steve’s hands, looking at the picnic spread Steve had set aside for them. Two MREs disassembled with the main dishes boiled hot, a bag of chips, a half pack of beer and Twinkies. Eddie took a step back, watching as Steve push himself up onto the roof. Eddie watched in awe as Steve’s shoulders tighten, as he literally pushed himself up, his arms straighten as he kicked his leg up over the ledge.

Maybe it was the athleticism preformed by the former King of Hawkins. Or maybe it was Eddie’s tight Black Sabbath shirt that showed off his muscles. Either way, it made something deep inside of Eddie growl, ‘MINE.’

Steve grinned as he caught Eddie’s stare. He threw Eddie a quick wink as he took the box from his hands.

“C’mon, Ed,” Steve said. “Picnic’s not gonna unpack itself.”

Eddie let out a soft laugh as he jogged over to Steve and the picnic blanket. He playfully hopped down on the blanket, instantly going for the beer. Not even 48 hours ago, Eddie was fighting a fever. 24 hours, he found the pain Steve has been hiding. And now, they’re climbing on top of the trailer roof to watch the clearing skies of the Upside Down. If they fooled themselves, the constant ash in the distance could be mistaken as stars.

“Alright,” Steve clapped his hands, rubbing them together as they were about to have a feast. “From the five star Michelin restaurant, we have diced turkey with gravy and diced beef with gravy. The chef’s personal recommendations.”

“Oh the chef?” Eddie’s eyebrows shot up. “And it paired well with Pabst?”

“He said only the best,” Steve said. “On the house. Which one do you want?”

“Beef,” Eddie said, extending his reach towards Steve, accepting the prepared MRE. “It’s been a while since I’ve had a good ribeye.”

“Yeah,” Steve let out a soft laugh. “Ribeye.”

“Is that jealousy I hear?” Eddie asked, a playful smirk across his face. “You just wish you ordered the rib-eye instead of the duck —“

“Excuse you,” Steve laughed. “This is duck a l’orange. The finest French dish on the menu.”

“Oh, my bad,” Eddie laughed, opening the package. The content’s aroma went straight to his nose. “Holy shit this actually smells good. It uh — kind of reminds me of my uncle’s Salisbury steak. He would add a can of cream of mushroom soup to the brown gravy mix and serve it over instant mash. God, I —“ Eddie let out an exhale. “I miss him.”

“I can’t wait to try it,” Steve said.

“Try what?”

“Your uncle’s Salisbury steak,” Steve said, opening his MRE. “You’ll ask him to make it for us, right?”

“Yeah,” Eddie nodded. “I think he’d like you.”

“Yeah?”

“The guy who practically nursed me back to health?” Eddie shot Steve a grin. “Yeah, he’d love you.”

“Good. If not, I was prepared to use my Harrington charm on him,” Steve wiggled his eyebrows before turning his attention on his meal. He took a hesitant bite before shooting Eddie a thumbs up. “Best duck I’ve ever had.”

Eddie laughed, not convinced. He took a bite of his diced beef and — well, it wasn’t the worst thing he ever had. But it definitely made him miss Wayne’s cooking. Wayne was a professional at dolling up meals, making cheap meals taste better and more filling. How he’d kill for some of Wayne’s flapjacks and fried eggs. “Yeah,” Eddie swallowed his food, then flashed a grin. “Cow’s still bleeding. Can’t get this anywhere else.”

There were a few moments that passed where they just ate and drank, their shoulders pressed together like it meant nothing and their entire world all at the same time.

“What about your parents?” Eddie spoke up.

“What about them?”

“Do you think they would like me?” Eddie asked. “I know I’m not everyone’s cup of tea, but you think I’d grow on them?”

“Uh — not to disappoint but I don’t think they would care,” Steve said with a shrug. “Don’t take that in a bad way —“

“Kind of hard not to,” Eddie said with a laugh. Eddie doesn’t think he could lie if Steve asked him if that hurt. Eddie’s not sure if he’s capable of lying to Steve anymore.

“I just meant — I don’t think they know I’m missing.”

“… What?”

“I don’t think they know,” Steve said. “And I don’t think they care.”

“Steve, we’ve been stuck for —“

“I know how long we’ve been stuck for Eddie,” Steve snapped. “I’ve been counting the days. They wouldn’t care.”

“Fuck your parents, man,” Eddie said. “They don’t deserve you.” Eddie’s heart ached as Steve’s words sunk in. They wouldn’t care. Eddie broke the silence, “What’s their names?”

“What?”

“What’s their names?” Eddie repeated. “Your old man and woman. Sperm and egg donors. Their names?”

“Richard and Sharon,” Steve supplied.

Eddie hopped onto his feet, shuffling the MRE to one hand and cupped the other around his mouth as he shouted to the edge of town: “FUCK YOU RICHARD AND SHARON!”

“Eddie!”

“C’mon!” Eddie begged, reaching down and gently tugging on Steve’s arm. “You can’t tell me that you never wanted to do that!”

Steve let out a laugh, allowing himself to be pulled up and into Eddie’s side. “Eddie, this is so stupid.”

“It’s therapeutic,” Eddie said, wrapping his free arm around Steve’s waist. “C’mon. Try it!”

“FUCK YOU RICHARD HARRINGTON!” Steve screamed.

“FUCK YOU DICK!” Eddie yelled.

“YOU’RE A FUCKING BITCH, SHARON!”

“BURN IN HELL, RICKY!”

“Ricky?” Steve asked, turning to face Eddie.

“My dad,” Eddie said. “He’s a real piece of shit.”

“EAT SHIT, RICKY!”

Eddie let out a deep laugh. “Felt good, didn’t it?”

“Yeah,” Steve breathed. He brought his hand up to cup Eddie’s face, his thumb gently rubbing over the scarring on his cheek. “It really did.”

Every nerve in Eddie’s body begged him to lean forward to kiss Steve. He wanted to. He needed to.

(Read more on Ao3 mind the tags)

[reticent-writer]

Hi I can order a Hc for Father's Day, for the Hashiras, how would they celebrate this date with their father?

An: for some fathers I go with their occupation from other fics.

Mitsuri's ff is a Baker.

Giyuu and Rengoku's is a retired hashira.

Shinobu's is a doctor.

Obanai, muichirou, sanemi and tengen are people from their past.

--------------

Obanai

Doesn't know what you'll like so he gets you food that mitsuri suggested

Kaburamaru stays around your neck all day

You also get a super rare hug

It lasts for about 30 seconds before he pulls away

Although he doesn't show it he really care

Muichirou

He forgot.

Which you didn't mind cause he was really sorry about it.

You both go out to eat a day after fathers day

Something is always better than nothing

On the chance that he does remember your so proud of him

Mitsuri

Tries to bake for you

You end up helping her bake

Turns into a tradition

You both bake together then eat it

Sometimes rengoku comes with a gift

Shinobu

Gets you to take break from work (for less than a day cause you won't allow it for to long)

Gets Aoi, kanae and the girls to get you a gift

You don't care what it is because you'll like it anyway

Probably one of the only times she's called you dad

Makes your heart melt

Tengen

Him and his wives prepare a big feast

"A flamboyant dinner for a flamboyant father" in his words

You are spoiled

Fathers day is more of a fathers weekend

Brings out his finest sake

Giyuu

He cleans/sharpens your now dull blade

If there is anything you want, you don't even have to ask cause he already has it

He's not the best with talking (An: me neither bud🥲) but his actions speak louder than words

Rengoku

The Rengoku's and you would be sat around a table eating, drinking(not Senjuro of course), and just talking

It was a bit awkward at first

But year after year it got more comfortable

Sanemi

Might be the one day when genya and sanemi are getting along

They both do whatever you ask with little to no back talk

They both cook while you try and keep the kitchen clean

Your proud of them for trying to do something together for fathers day (even if it turned into a disaster) and you make sure they know it

----------

2/6

[robininthelabyrinth]

i've been keeping a list of possible prompts for you and there's one i have no memory of adding that just says "courtesan nmj????" so i guess that's the prompt you're getting lmao

What Does the Fox Say - ao3

“Second Madame Nie!” a disciple shouted, rushing into her little garden. She didn’t recognize him, but he was solidly built and well-muscled like most of the others – truly, the Unclean Realm was a rapturous feast for one with eyes to see it. Yum, yum. “Second Madame Nie, I have bad news!”

Boo. She hated bad news: bad news meant she’d have to do something, usually, and right now she was seated very comfortably in a pleasant piece of sun in the garden path that’d been made up just for her and to her preferences, with her feet up on a chair and a full plate of fruit from the kitchen on the table in front of her just begging to be devoured, morsel by delicious morsel.

Her schedule was packed!

“I regret to tell you, but your husband has been killed!”

“Oh,” she said, frowning slightly. “Has he? How obnoxious of him.”

How unreliable. Men.

She sighed.

“Second Madame – Second Madame – you don’t understand!” The disciple was all red-eyed and weepy, which was a look she liked, especially in big, stout men like this. The salt added a bit of spice to the whole thing. “You must flee at once! He was killed by Sect Leader Wen in an act of outright aggression – Sect Leader Wen has declared war – the Wen sect is invading!”

She nodded and picked up another lychee to start peeling it. She’d get around to fleeing in her own time. As long as this Wen sect or whatnot was being led by a man, she wasn’t terribly concerned.

“They intend to wipe out the inheritance of Qinghe Nie! They will rip out the child in your belly!”

She hummed noncommittally. Really, how attached was she to having a child of her own? Really?

“They will slaughter civilians – execute Nie-gongzi –”

Her hands stilled.

“What,” she said, and the disciple took a step back automatically, proving that he, at least, had something more of a survival instinct than her late husband did. “Hurt my little meat bun? My darling rice roll? My savory zongzi?”

She stood up, diminutive height and over-large belly and frilly clothing doing absolutely nothing to diminish the vaguely menacing aura that darkened the sky around her. She bared her teeth.

“Who does this upstart Wen dog think he is?!”

The disciple blinked owlishly, but nodded, seeming relieved that she’d finally accepted his concern, though she could see on his face that he was thinking that her reasoning was – characteristically – a little strange. But then again, and she could see this thought process on his far too honest face, it was well known that the second Madame Nie been quite strange ever since Sect Leader Nie had found her in some lonesome place with no family or background and brought her back to be his new wife nevertheless.

Such a charming man. Pity about his loss, really.

“You have to flee at once, we can’t possibly fight so many people,” the disciple said once more, and this time she nodded in agreement. “We can escort you to a hidden exit –”

“No!” a little voice called. “We can’t go.”

She turned to look, and there was the little pork-and-shrimp dumpling himself, chubby-cheeked and earnest-eyed, looking as delicious as always.

“What do you mean, fish cake?” she asked. “Of course we have to go. Didn’t you hear what this strapping young man said? This Wen person wants to kill you!”

“If Father is dead, then I’m the sect leader,” her stepson said. He was serious and solemn in a way that made her want to pinch his cheeks and bury her face into his belly to blow raspberries, and also possibly to eat him right up, flesh and marrow and gristle and all. “That means it’s my responsibility to preserve the Nie sect.”

“Nie-gongzi, no!” the disciple cried, throwing himself to his knees in a dramatic display of loyalty. “You would only die – far better for you to run, and live!”

“Then isn’t the same true for everyone else?” the tasty little dish asked, crossing his arms over his chest and pouting. Possibly he was trying to put on a fierce expression, maybe, she couldn’t quite tell sometimes. He was so cute. “Why should I live, and them not? I refuse to buy my life with their deaths!”

“But – Nie-gongzi –”

Her charming little honey cake shook his head and held up a hand to stop the disciple, turning to look at her instead.

“Second Mother,” he said, and he had that wholesome trusting expression again that was such a perfect little one-shot-kill to the heart, ugh. “You always said you’re the best at hiding. The best in the world, no one better among all the gods or demons!”

She was, too. She couldn’t help but preen a little, proud.

“– can’t you do something?”

“Oh, darling cabbage bun,” she said, not without fondness. “I can hide myself from even the net of Heaven itself if I so choose, from gods and demons alike, and I can most certainly hide a small group from any mortal eyes that dare to look, if you don’t mind being a little tiny bit dishonorable about the business. But an entire sect? That’s a bit much, even for someone as talented and skilled as me.”

Her stepson looked up at her, all straight-steel sincerity and upright righteousness wrapped into a perfectly edible little snack-sized package. “If we split them up, the sect could be small groups,” he said eagerly. “Couldn’t you do something then?”

He was so cute, and he trusted her. He trusted her, believed in her, felt that she could perform miracles with a wave of her sleeve if only she so wished.

It was awful.

She couldn’t bear it.

“Oh all right, you nummy little slice of roast pork belly,” she said, yielding. “But I’m telling you now, it won’t be the least bit honorable! There’s only so many excuses you can come up with for having a lot of strong men with wide shoulders and women with thick thighs hanging around, and not a single one of them has the slightest bit to do with what you people consider to be appropriate.”

“That’s all right. Preserving human life comes first, always.”

The disciple looked between them, clearly completely confused. Clearly all his effort had been spent on developing the muscles in his arms (quite nice) rather than his brain (quite slow).

“What?” he said. “What’s happening?”

“We’re saving the sect,” Nie Mingjue announced happily, clapping his hands together. Too precious, too precious entirely; she’d have to make sure no one else even thought about going near her darling little snackling. “Tell everyone to prepare to evacuate.”

“That will take too long,” she said, and smiled, with teeth. “Let me call some friends to help.”

-

When the Wen sect arrived at the Unclean Realm, they found the gate open.

That was unexpected enough, but when they entered, they found that the entire place had emptied out – not just of people, but of everything else, too. There wasn’t a single intact chair or table in the entire place, not a scrap of cloth nor a bit of food, like it’d been swept clean by locusts or wild monkeys come to pilfer whatever they could.

Even the paving stones where arrays had been laid out by the Nie sect’s ancestors had been pried up and carted away.

Sect Leader Wen ordered a search, but there wasn’t any trace of it – of the people, of the stuff, anything.

No one ever found out what happened.

-

Jin Guangyao despised social events, he’d found.

It was one thing when it was something he’d planned himself, where the work was interesting enough to distract him, but when he was an honored guest for someone else…miserable. Utterly miserable.

The only thing more miserable was when the host was his erstwhile father, from whom he’d forcefully extracted recognition. With Wen Ruohan as his backer, indulging his favorite torturer as if a beloved pet, there wasn’t much Jin Guangshan could do to refuse, and neither could he force Jin Guangyao to do anything on his behalf, either. And so Jin Guangyao, sitting as always by Wen Ruohan’s side, right beneath his sons, was now an honored guest at his father’s house, getting offered his pick of prostitutes as if the man had no notion of the irony.

Maybe he didn’t. Jin Guangyao couldn’t quite tell if his father had just forgotten his origins, thinking his bastard son too unimportant to remember the details of, or whether it was meant as a deliberate insult – who could tell?

“Oh, right,” the simpering idiot in front of him, a nephew or cousin of some sort to the sect leader, said. “Our dear Jin Guangyao is known not to like the gentle flower queens, even when they come from the finest houses in Lanling. Isn’t that right, cousin?”

Jin Guangyao’s fists clenched. A deliberate insult, then.

Despite that, his face remained neutral. Instead, he chuckled and said, “The appeal is limited. After all, I have seen the best of them.”

Beside him, Wen Ruohan nodded and smirked. He appreciated Jin Guangyao’s devotion to his mother, though Jin Guangyao suspected it was because he thought it funny that Jin Guangyao would bother to honor such a lowly woman – but what he thought didn’t matter, not really. All that mattered was that he let Jin Guangyao pay his respects to her to his heart’s content.

“Well, you’re in luck!” the idiot Jin Zixun said, looking absurdly smug. “We have something of a different flavor than the usual tonight – we’ve invited entertainment from the local branch of Splendid Spring.”

Jin Guangyao barely managed to avoid rolling his eyes.

The Splendid Spring Palace was a series of brothels that had popped up fully formed just about everywhere some years back, with madams and girls and musicians and bodyguards of all sorts. It was so patently a political move that Jin Guangyao had barely bothered to pay attention to it once he’d become actually powerful, and Wen Ruohan hadn’t paid attention to it at all. After all, in the unlikely event that the business really was backed by a cultivation sect that didn’t care about its face any longer, anyone who needed to use such a façade to gather power was clearly beneath notice.

Jin Guangyao had paid only very little attention, but to different and unusual aspects of the place: by all accounts, they were surprisingly decent employers as far as places like that went. They didn’t steal girls or accept unwilling goods – they had some connection with the merchant caravans, or at least one of the companies that helped coordinate routes and provide protection to such things, and they were as meticulous about checking things over as they were about seeking refunds if they were dissatisfied – and they did accept married girls fleeing unhappy marriages, which not everyone did. They did buy up all the girls in the local markets wherever they were, but they swept them away and brought them back transformed, even the ones that wouldn’t sell because they were too ugly; Jin Guangyao assumed that meant they had people who were talented in make-up and clothing, since the usual rumors of the girls being blessed with a yao’s enchantment were obviously ridiculous and nothing more than the usual marketing gimmicks that brothels since time immemorial had tried.

Even once they had the girls in hand, the places were pretty decent: they had physicians on staff to help with the usual side effects of the business, made sure their girls were clean and healthy, and were said to even limit the number of customers a girl would be obliged to take on in a given evening…honestly, knowing as he did the brothel business, Jin Guangyao sometimes wondered how they’d managed to bespell enough people to even make money in the early days. At any rate, whatever they’d done, it’d worked, because by now they had a solid enough reputation to trade on.

In short: a decent enough place, far better than the usual run of the mill. Once he’d had the ability to do so, he’d even pulled a few strings and arranged for the better of his mother’s old compatriots to end up there, since he couldn’t convince them to leave their old professions behind entirely.

Anyway, if they also seemed to have a sideline in information brokering and assassinations, well, let them. In the cultivation world, where the only thing that mattered was strength, real strength.

A little thing like that wouldn’t make any real difference.

Or so Jin Guangyao had thought.

He found himself re-thinking that, though, when the entertainment in question came out. There were the usual set of attractive (albeit in a wider variety of shapes and sizes than usually seen) dancers, dressed up in silks that seemed actually high quality, and plenty of strapping young men carrying sabers – dancers as well, once assumed, to provide some spice to the entertainment, and implicitly on the offer for men who cut their sleeves or women with more flexibility, like widows or ones with especially permissive husbands. Wen Ruohan’s wives were in that latter category, and they were already whispering to each other excitedly, looking at them.

They’d even brought in the local madame, who was…

Well, she was actually breathtaking, even by Jin Guangyao’s extremely jaded standards. She had hair that fell almost all the way to her ankles, shimmering in the light, and dark eyes shining with liveliness, a smooth and ageless face that simultaneously suggested youth and health but also winked at knowable experience, the features characteristic of what his mother’s employers had called the ‘fox-face’. As if to emphasize that, the lady was wrapped in fox-fur and draped in embroidered brocade, with little stylized foxes running up and down the hems of her clothing and along the gazy silk draped on her shoulders.

It ought to have looked absurd, looked gaudy and overwrought and overdone, but it didn’t.

She was a thousand dreams of wealth and beauty and power and sex appeal all wrapped up in one, and even Jin Guangyao – who was in his personal preferences quite firmly a cutsleeve – couldn’t help but intrigued by her, wondering what it might be like to touch the hem of such a glorious creature.

And next to her…

The lady was accompanied by two men that seemed completely different from each other. One was a slender and winsome young man, fluttering his eyelashes from behind a fan with a charming smile, emanating the appeal of softness and weakness, ready to be indulged. While the other…

Jin Guangyao swallowed.

He was the exact opposite of the first man. Clearly strong, muscular and powerful, and tall to the point of towering, with wide shoulders and a narrow waist, a chest that you could lean your head against and an ass that begged to have someone’s hands on it – and there were his hands, big and broad, perfect for holding someone down or up if they so wished and of a size that was very promising as to what was only hinted at under his clothes. His face was hidden behind a veil as if he were a woman, marking him, like his comrade, as one of the available courtesans of the Splendid Spring, but his body was visible under clothing clearly cut to put it to the best advantage.

And oh, what advantages it had…!

“It seems we found something to the tastes of dear cousin Guangyao after all,” the idiot said mockingly, sniggering and snorting like the pig he was, and for once Jin Guangyao didn’t even care.

“Who’s the woman in front?” Wen Ruohan asked, ignoring their interplay. He seemed utterly fascinated, almost spellbound, and Jin Guangyao couldn’t blame him one bit. If this woman had been at the same brothel as his mother, there wouldn’t have even been room for jealousy or shame; his mother would have gone straight up to her to ask for some tips. “She seems…familiar, somehow.”

“That’s the madame of the Splendid Spring,” Jin Zixun said proudly, as if he’d done anything at all in relation to this – nonsense, of course. Everyone know which brothels were backed by the Jin sect, and Splendid Spring wasn’t one of them. He was acting as if he deserve a pat on the back just for the introduction! “That means she’s not for sale.”

His smile faded a little, twisting in a small bit of bitterness. “Or so she told my uncle, anyway…although I’m sure if it were Sect Leader Wen asking, the answer would undoubtedly be different.”

Probably because Jin Guangshan couldn’t slaughter prostitutes with impunity if they said no to him, whereas no one could stop Wen Ruohan from doing any damn thing he pleased.

Wen Ruohan grunted, pleased by the answer – he was a possessive man, in the rare events that he did exert himself in the realm of women, and there had been more than one instance where he’d stolen away some girl his sons had been eyeing first just for the joy of having had her first – and raised a hand, catching the lady’s eye and gesturing for her to come over, which she did.

“What’s your name?” he asked.

She laughed. “You can call me Hu Jiuwei. With the ‘Hu’ being the character for fox.”

Jin Guangyao tried not to choke. There were false names and then there were false names – the lady’s theme was already clearly related to foxes, given her fox-face and fox-fur lining and the foxes embroidered onto her robes. Was the over-the-top name really necessary?

“It’s a fake name,” she added, unnecessarily.

“I see,” Wen Ruohan said, sounding a little choked himself. Possibly it was the woman calling herself ‘Foxy Ninetails’ and then kindly reassuring them all that the name was false as if she thought them too dumb to figure it out that was tripping him up a little. Jin Guangyao couldn’t tell if she was doing it deliberately in order to make her frankly inhuman beauty a little less frightening, or maybe she was blessed with so much beauty that she hadn’t bothered to cultivate her brain at all. “Are you our entertainment for the evening?”

She smiled, and any complaints Jin Guangyao (or indeed Wen Ruohan) might have had about her intelligence faded away at once.

It was that type of smile.

You could wreck nations with that type of smile. Jin Guangyao couldn’t help but wonder: how had a woman this extraordinary ended up in a brothel, of all places? How had no one snatched her up to keep her all for himself before now?

“My sons and I –” she gestured at the two behind her, “– would be more than happy to provide you with all the entertainment you could possibly want.”

Her smile widened.

“We’ve been hoping for an opportunity like this for a long time.”

[awesomerextyphoon]

Bura na mano, Holi hai!

This is my submission for @darkmcuficswap​’s Dark MCU Festive Fic Swap 2020! My giftee is the lovely @searchforanotherway​ / @saaracha​. Thank you so much for your patience. I hope you enjoy this!

Summary: This year’s Holi Festivities would’ve been your best yet...if not for a handsome stranger.

Paring: Soft Dark!Thor x Desi!Reader (Fem)

Holiday: Holi (Festival of Colors)

Word Count: 2,022

Rating: 18+/Explicit

Warnings: Kidnapping, Smut, Loss of Virginity, Non-Con, Oral (f receiving), Stalking, Obsessive Behavior, Swearing, Age Gap (reader is of age), Light Bondage, and Breeding Kink

A/N: This is my first time doing a Desi!Reader. Thank you @darkficsyouneveraskedfor​ for hosting! Translations will be at the end. Feedback is welcomed and appreciated! Dividers are by the lovely @firefly-graphics​!

Back to Masterlist

“So, I guess you won’t have to tease about my poor gulal throwing skills since I’m coming back.”

You shrieked into your phone so loudly that you feared your Aunt Malati would stick her head in with a disapproving look again.

Harshad, your brother, was finally coming home after four years abroad! You had missed him dearly. He had called you twice a month for at least two hours talking about your novel idea. You were writing a sci-fi novel about a girl, Kanti, going on space adventures. You never thought you stood a chance since there weren’t many people who looked like you in the space, but Harshad was your biggest cheerleader.

Everyone was preparing for the festivities, getting the gulal, cooking all of the food (you were constantly salivating from the aroma), and making sure everyone has lotion for Rangwali Holi.

You and your best friend, Hema, were returning from an errand when a sleek black car passed your path. Luckily, neither of you were hurt and went on your way, but you were blissfully unaware of the occupants.

  You always loved your neighborhood’s Holika Dahan. Your grandmother used to regale you and the other children with tales of old. Your mother and aunts would hand out Gujiya, Barfi, Malpua, and other sweets. The bonfire always meant new things were coming for you. It was at the Holika Dahan that you had your novel idea two years prior.

This year you helped pass out the sweets to the crowd and shared a serving of Chana Marsala and Malpua with mango when you saw him.

On the other side of the bonfire was a man who was staring intensely at you. He could be described as some kind of supreme being in your sci-fi novel. He was 2m (6’6.75”) tall with short dark blond/light brown hair and beard, electric blue eyes, plump lips with laugh lines, broad shoulders and chest, and mostly had a defined midsection and legs. All of this deliciousness was wrapped in a tasteful royal blue Dupion Silk Kurta, a beige Churidar, and a pair of golden silk Mojari.

You never thought that a man like him would give you the time of day. You wondered what it would be like to kiss him-

“Hey! Hello, anyone in there?” Hema snapped you out of your musings, “I asked you if you want to come with the rest of the girls.”

You nodded and left with her not noticing your mystery man talking with Harshad.

  “Rangwali Holi Mubaarak, Auntieji!” Bushra exclaimed as she jumped on your bed. She did this every Holi since she could crawl.

“Alright, alright Bushra. I’m awake.” You grumbled as you gave her a hug, “time to get ready.”

Nilam, your older sister, handed you a cup of Thandai from your favorite vendor as a bribe to watch over Bushra this year. Slightly annoyed, you accepted the cup and hummed at the flavors noting the extra pinch of cardamon they added just for you. You made sure that Bushra didn’t get near the Barfi (not wanting a repeat of last year) and made sure that she moisturized herself.

Once you and Bushra were ready, you met up with Hema and had a blast at Rangwali Holi. You smiled at Bushra running around with her friends with her playful yelps and laughter. Hema got you square in the face with gulal so you chased her until Harshad stopped you.

Afterward, both you and Hema helped your mother and aunts prepare for the party. The party was wonderful and you may have had a few more Gujiya and Barfi than you should’ve. Though you did catch a glimpse of the striking man from last night.

After the festivities, you walked around your neighborhood with Hema talking about clothes, boys, and music (nothing major). You got another cup of Thandai from your favorite vendor once Hema decided to retire for the night.

You went against your grandmother’s warnings and took the shortcut through the dark corridor. You got about ten steps in when you started to feel incredibly dizzy. Someone caught you before you fell and the last thing you saw a pair of plain gold Mojari.

  Your eyes fluttered open then snapped open once you realized that you weren’t on your bed. You found yourself in a red embroidered art silk Lehenga with gold and ruby studded earrings and bangles.

The room itself was an immaculate hotel room with reds, blues, and green adorning the walls and surfaces. It felt unreal. It was like in your story where the protagonist got stuck in her adversary’s lair.

You were about to reach the window when the door opened and in walked the man from Holika Dahan.

He only wore a royal blue Dupion Silk Dhoti and the gold Mojari. And Fuck, he was a vision of masculine beauty and power. He had a powerful build with rippling muscles, rich tawny pink skin, broad shoulders, plump pink lips, long medium brown eyelashes, chiseled chest and abs, and a super defined Adonis Belt.

You could only imagine what was underneath his Dhoti.

The man strode in like a king, confidence and charisma came off of him in waves.

“How do you like the room, priya?” You nearly swooned at the smooth, deep timbre of his voice.

“Wh-who are you? Where am I?” you asked slightly terrified by the way the man was ogling you in your outfit.

He chuckled at your actions, “My name is Thor Odinson, but you may call me Thor, jaanu. As for where you are, well, you’re where you belong. You’re with me.”

“But I can’t be your jaanu! We’ve never met-”

“I would watch your tone, priya.” Thor warned as his nostrils flared and his eyes darkened.

“I jus-I just want to go home.” you nearly sobbed as Thor raised your head with a bent forefinger.

“It doesn’t matter now. You’ll see, mera pyaar.” Thor murmured as he kissed you.

You would’ve gasped at the sudden action. This man stole your first kiss, but it could’ve been worse. The kiss was soft and demanding getting more passionate by the second.

Thor moaned when he got his tongue past your full lips. You gave him a tepid response with your own tongue which only egged him on with the knowledge that he would be your one and only.

He scooped you up in his arms and gently placed you on the plush bed like a feather once he broke for air. Your clothes were gone in an instant and you felt helpless under the ravenous gaze of your captor.

Thor started with a kiss to the top of your forehead, inhaling the Damask Rose perfume he got from Kannauj. “You smell divine, jaanu.” He descended upon your face, neck, and shoulders kissing and marking your skin with love marks.

You tried to push him off of you, but he bound your wrists to leather handcuffs and returned to his foreplay.

Thor hummed at your moans and gasps loving how responsive you were. His kisses sent shivers down your spine and waves of heat to your lower abdomen, sometimes simultaneously.

“P-Pleas-”

“Ah, ah, ah,” Thor tutted at your incoherent pleas, “You need to use your big girl words, jaanu.”

You begged him to release your wrists and he only did once you promised not to fight you. He released your wrists and gave each wrist three open kisses while making eye contact. You shyly ran your fingers through his hair and his smooth plains of muscles while Thor praised your efforts noting that you will get better in time.

He stopped at your breasts and loved how they filled his hands musing on how much bigger they’ll be once you’re round with his seed.

That scared the shit out of you. It wasn’t that you didn’t want kids at all...you didn’t want kids now.

Thor alternated between sucking and pinching your nipples and covered your chest in love marks. He moved to your midsection and hips, “Fuck, you’re so beautiful jaanu.” he murmured as he kissed your hipbone.

“Please, Thor, I can’t-”

Thor pressed a forefinger to your lips, “It’s fine, jaanu. All will be well.”

“I’ve ne- I’ve never been touched down there.”

Thor chuckled, “I know, mera pyaar. I’ll be your one and only,” He kissed and nipped your inner thighs and gave your slit a long, slow lick. Thor moaned at the taste, “Better than the finest cuisine,” and dove in like a starving man at a feast after only knowing years of famine.

Never in your life had you felt such a rush tear through your body. Each movement brought you to a new level of pleasure. You weakly grabbed his hair and arched your back to him begging him to continue.

Thor kept you on the edge for what felt like an eternity, “Come, mera pyaar.”

The floodgates burst at his words and he made sure to slurp up every drop of your juice that squirted.

You were in a euphoric daze when Thor removed his Dhoti. You would’ve gasped if you could because the man was a sculpture of near hyper-masculine perfection with his form glistening with sweat.

Then you saw his cock. Fuck! He would split you in two!

You begged him to stop once more, but he kissed the corner of his mouth and said that the pain will pass.

Thor pushed into you as gently as he thought possible. You wanted to scream but he swallowed them in a passionate kiss and even took you biting him in stride.

“You feel amazing, jaanu!” Thor exclaimed once you calmed down and he filled you to the hilt. He started thrusting at a good pace and the feeling of pain soon turned to pleasure,” Isn’t this better, mera pyaar? Being under me, taking my cock like a good wife?”

You were too fuck-hazed to respond.

It didn’t take long for you to come again. Not a minute later, Thor came with a roar with thick ropes of cum shooting into you.

You thought it was over only to see Thor inside you...and hard.

“Did you think that was it, jaanu?”

After a couple more rounds, Thor let you fall asleep and had someone get you ready for the jet.

It was all coming together. Odin neither liked nor trusted his playboy lifestyle and threatened to disown him and cut him from the company if he didn’t find a wife. The woman had to be someone he approved and he had two years to do it.

Seventeen months into his search, he met Harshad. Thor thought the man bright and amiable so he got the man a job in the company as a Data Engineer. He kept an easy-going friendship with him, but all that changed when Harshad talked about you.

Harshad talked about your interests and dreams like a sibling is wont to do. Thor thought you were a lot more interesting than his usual lays. Your brother showed him a picture of you that your mother took right before he left.

Thor was hooked.

You were softer, plumper, and much more genuine than the models he dated. You were simply breathtaking.

Thor almost snatched the photo from Harshad.

Thor started to search for you that night. He scoured your social media presence captivated by your smile and words. He hired a private investigator to get more information about you and he convinced Harshad to let him celebrate Holi with your family. His cock hardened when he saw you walking with your friend, Hema, on his way to the hotel. He almost came on the spot when he locked eyes with you at Holika Dahan. Thor had his agents watch you during Rangwali Holi and take pictures and bribed a worker to give you a drugged Thandai.

Now he had you.

Sure, you will be rebellious at first, but you will accept this. Perhaps he could help you with your book series. He hoped his children would be as creative as you.

Maybe one day you’ll laugh.

Taglist: @giorno-plays-piano​ @lookiamtrying​ @jtargaryen18​ @sapphirescrolls​ @jobean12-blog​ @sweeterthanthis​ @gotnofucks​ @mcudarklibrary​ @saiyanprincessswanie​ @golden-ariess​ @navegandoaciegas​ @stargazingfangirl18​ @opheliadawnwalker3​ @tilltheendwilliwrite​ @imanuglywombat​ @bucky-the-thigh-slayer​ @navybrat817​ @anyatheladyclown​ @buckysbunny​ @nacho-bucky​ @donutloverxo​ @stephanieromanoff​ @threeminutesoflife​ @angrybirdcr​ @angrythingstarlight​ @chixkencxrry​ @hurricanerin​ @marvelfansworld @the-soulofdevil​ @captain–barnes​ @drabblewithfrannybarnes​ @thebanprincess​ @winteralpine​ @leslie2898​ @buttercandy16​ @propertyofpoeandbucky​ @hevans-angel @thorfanficwriter​ @afriendlyblackhottie @avintagekiss24 @syntheticavenger

jaanu => my life

mera pyaar => my heart

priya => darling

Bura na mano, Holi hai => Do not mind, it’s Holi

[dangerdangerhighvoltage]

Night Off (MC x Kojuro x Tsunamoto)

MC and Kojuro are trying to navigate their relationship after finally hooking up, only for Tsunamoto to crash the party with his chaotic ass. it's double daddy duty featuring one of supporting cast's finest. nsfw!

You never were one to concentrate on one thing at a time. 

As you scooped porridge into a bowl, you mentally listed all the letters that were awaiting a response from Kojuro. You carefully laid the soft doughy orb of mochi on top of the porridge while noting you needed to track down that retainer to get his report on how the crops were faring this season. As you attempted to remember the name of some Western book Lord Masamune had requested, the boiling water you meant to pour into the teapot had instead landed on your hand. 

“Ahh!” you hissed. Chastised by your own folly, you finally focused on the task at hand, assembling the tray for Kojuro’s afternoon tea break including an extra tea cup for yourself. It had been a few weeks since the incident, and you were relieved that things were starting to feel normal again, if not a little awkward.

The month before last, the clan embarked on a particularly brutal campaign. Upon their return, an abnormally shaken Kojuro promptly made love to you, after a year of working closely late into the night, nursing each others’ hangovers, confiding in each other different ways to help Lord Masamune not be so hard on himself. Kojuro fucked you on his desk on the heaps and heaps of his letters and notes and then again in his bedding, drawing from you something he had left on the battlefield. You were genuinely surprised Kojuro had made good on the attraction between you, but the next day, you could have sworn you overheard Shigezane distributing to a handful of retainers what sounded like payouts for a bet. 

You and Kojuro decided that while you both enjoyed yourselves that night and were clearly well suited, it was not the best time to pursue something real, not with the Ashina acting up as they were. The others teased Kojuro endlessly about making an honest woman out of you, and for some reason, a part of you believed he actually wanted to. But the thing about Kojuro was he would never be forced to make a decision about you so long as he had that endless pile of work on his desk to hide behind. 

It’s not as if you wanted to be an honest woman anyway.

And so it was as though you started your relationship from scratch, relearning boundaries and reacquainting yourself with some professional distance. The only acknowledgment of your intimacy—other than the fact that he ceased referring to you as his “precious girl”—was the fact that you had started to join him for his afternoon tea every day. And that’s exactly what you were looking forward to doing when you walked back into his office, tray in hand, only to find a brawny, effortlessly disheveled, scar-faced sight sitting in your spot.

“Look what the winds blew in,” Kojuro said to you mischievously.

“Lord Tsunamoto!” you exclaimed, shocked to see the handsome man before you. “To what do we owe the pleasure?” 

Whereas Kojuro was seated rather formally at his desk, Tsunamoto sat back outstretched, his chest peeking through his signature, generously loose robe. You’d always been a bit nervous around the man, his lingering eye contact, and general aversion to modesty. You dismissed him as not your type more as a form of self protection, like a chest of gunpowder dodging a spark. Despite being polar opposites, he and Kojuro were thick as thieves when reunited, Kojuro bringing a calm patience out in Tsunamoto, and Tsunamoto reviving a roguish edge in Kojuro. 

“Surprised to see me?” Tsunamoto declared more than asked. Why did everything about him seem flirtatious?

“Did you send a letter?” you asked, knowing he hadn’t. “I’d have planned a feast if I knew you were visiting!” 

“No need for the fanfare. I’m just passing through for a few days.” 

"Too late, I already have a menu in mind,” you said, picking up the teapot. Tsunamoto’s eye locked on the second cup as you poured the tea. Your face heated up as you watched him realize the second cup wasn’t meant for him, that maybe he was interrupting something. You wondered if from just one mundane piece of ceramic, he deduced everything about your and Kojuro’s past. Tsunamoto cocked his head, and directed an inquisitive smile toward Kojuro who was suddenly couldn’t seem to drink his tea fast enough.

"I suppose there’s no point in trying to stop you,” Tsunamoto relented, graciously accepting the cup you offered.

“Believe me, I’ve tried,” Kojuro quipped.

“Uh huh.” Tsunamoto noted. His gaze flickered to you.

“Let me bring you some oshiruko,” you said with a firm smile and a desperate need to catch your breath. 

“No need,” Kojuro waved away. “Bring him his favorite dessert.”

You cocked your head at him in confusion. The two men looked at each other in a way that made your cheek tingle. 

“Sake,” Kojuro said slyly.

The next morning, you arrived at training, where Tsunamoto had stepped in to lead. After sparring one-on-one with every retainer, he finally approached you. 

“Solid form,” he offered as your wooden swords cracked against one another. You had been on the defense the whole time, allowing him to gain ground or at least think he was. Luckily for you, his strength made him slower, and as his body twisted to strike at you, you quickly maneuvered under his swing, striking him in his side in a full low lunge. He let out a laugh as you smiled shyly to yourself. 

“I’ve taught her well, huh?” Kojuro called out from afar, who had apparently stopped by to observe training.

“Technique was always your strength,” Tsunamoto called back to him. 

You resumed sparring, Tsunamoto hitting a bit stronger and moving much faster than before. With every step you took, he met you there, almost predicting your movements. The confidence you gained now sputtered out as you barely dodged his attacks. Running out of ideas, you tried a new gambit Kojuro taught you but as you spun around, you felt yourself caught in a vise-grip, your back to Tsunamoto’s chest as if he was simply waiting for you to fall into his trap. His arms easily restraining yours, he brought his lips to your ear and lowered his voice, looking directly at Kojuro who was watching the two of you intently.

“See, I know a few of Kojuro’s weaknesses as well,” he said, sending a shiver down your spine.  

“Besides, who do you think taught him?” He let you go and jogged back over to the rest of the retainers as if nothing happened. Straightening out your hakama, you looked over at Kojuro who hadn’t taken his eyes off you.

After a full day of cooking and preparing, you tried to make yourself scarce during that night’s feast. You spent the evening running back and forth between the kitchen and main hall, hauling food and empty dishes until someone, you weren’t sure who, grabbed your hand and pulled you down to sit between Kojuro and Tsunamoto. Despite your initial protests, the two of them finally convinced you to stay and enjoy your own handiwork. You relented, and jovially ate, drank, and chatted with the rest of them, until you remembered something.

“Hells, I never spoke to Shiroishi about the crops today,” you confessed with a grimace. 

“Yeah, I'm not sure Shiroishi is in any state to discuss much of anything,” Tsunamoto said. Across the room, the retainer in question was somewhere between laughing drunk and falling asleep drunk.

“What kind of master am I?” Kojuro bemoaned. “My own page sitting here thinking about work when she should be enjoying herself?”

“She learned from the best,” Tsunamoto joked under his breath. 

“Milord,” you started, “You’re a good ma—”

He turned to you, his face serious. “I want you to forget about all your work. Take the night off and just have a good time, okay?” Since you and Kojuro slept together, “good time” had become something of a loaded term. 

“But Milord,” you teased. “Who will keep your desk clear?” 

“I can keep my own desk clear for one night, thank you very much!” 

“You didn’t even clear it when we—” 

You cut yourself off abruptly and bowed your head in embarrassment, suddenly realizing how much you had drank. Tsunamoto let out a satisfied laugh, and you thought Kojuro would strike you down then and there for your slip up. But he merely smirked at you, amused. It’s not like anyone else had heard outside you three—by now all the retainers were completely intoxicated and Lord Masamune had excused himself long ago.

“You didn’t seem to mind at the time, precious girl,” Kojuro fired back with a small, unbearably winning smile. You were at once delighted and flustered by Kojuro’s familiarity and Tsunamoto's presence. You didn’t know what to make of him playing witness to this charged tête-à-tête. 

Sensing the tension, Tsunamoto spoke up. "That’s our Kojuro, always with the last word.” 

“You see what I have to work with every day?” you fussed, turning to him with a big smile.

"You poor thing,” Tsunamoto said, playing along and touching your cheek. You were surprised by the gesture, but played it off well. You happily sipped your sake, oblivious to the glance Kojuro and Tsunamoto shared, an entire unspoken conversation transpiring above your head.

It was late into the night when the last of the retainers drunkenly shuffled off to their quarters for the night, and Kojuro asked you to bring a jug of sake to his office. When you arrived you were astonished to find the two of them seated across Kojuro’s desk boisterously engaged in a heated match of arm wrestling of all things. Only Tsunamoto could convince Kojuro to engage in such nonsensical activities.

“So these are the brilliant, visionary advisors of the Date clan,” you huffed as they cheerfully welcomed you. You sat down at the edge of the desk and looked back and forth between them before pouring the sake. With great effort, Kojuro finally pressed Tsunamoto’s knuckles into the wood. 

“Damn,” Tsunamoto grumbled. They downed the sake and immediately put their elbows back on the table, ready for another bout. You poured more sake and sipped on your own. "Alright, this is the tiebreaker,” Tsunamoto said, flexing his fingers.

“And what is the prize?” you asked. 

“A kiss from the beautiful page,” Tsunamoto cracked. 

“And smart,” you added.

“Right, a kiss from the beautiful and smart page,” Tsunamoto beamed.

Kojuro looked up at you, concerned. “[Y/n], you don’t have to—”

“Okay,” you said simply. Kojuro was dumbfounded.

“What?” 

“I said okay. I will kiss whoever wins this stupid competition,” you said with a shrug. Did those words just come out of your mouth? The two men looked at each other again, and again you felt that tingle in your cheek.

“You heard her, Kojuro,” Tsunamoto said.

“I suppose I did.”

The two readied themselves on Kojuro’s desk, grasped hands and began, but this round was different. For the first time since Lord Tsunamoto arrived, the two men went silent as they strained to defeat the other. 

“Kojuro, finally putting up a fight. Desperate for a kiss, old man?” Tsunamoto jeered.

"Put as much effort into training as you do into talking shit and you’d have unified Japan yourself by now,” Kojuro taunted back.

Unable to fathom the scene playing out in front of you, you simply took another shot of sake. It was a total deadlock for minutes until suddenly with a loud crack, both men were sent to the floor. Apparently Kojuro’s poor desk gave out from the pressure of the match or perhaps it had simply lost the will to live after years of neglect and misuse. The three of you devolved into a fit of laughter as you pieced together what had occurred.

“A draw!” Kojuro howled. 

“We both lost? How pathetic!” Tsunamoto asked, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye and trying not to laugh again, though you sensed he was relieved at the outcome. The two men sat up on either side of the broken desk, looking down in amused pity.

“Or maybe,” you said timidly. “You both won.” 

You couldn’t believe what you had just said. What you had just implied. The two men froze and looked at you, waiting for the catch, for you to burst into laughter and exclaim, “Gotcha!” and tease them endlessly for thinking twice. But you didn’t. 

“[Y/n]?” Kojuro asked softly with a nervous smile. 

With the latest shot of sake taking effect, you leaned over to him and gave him a firm kiss. His body froze before you, and you instantly cursed yourself for being so stupid and so forward. What were you thinking? You expected him to pull back, graciously reiterate the need for professionalism, and dismiss you for the night, but to your surprise, he dug his fingers in your hair and deepened the kiss. His tongue grazed your lips hungrily and bit your lip the same way he did when you first kissed just weeks ago, and you felt the same rush of sensual relief.

The two of you parted with a small, uncertain smile. You took a breath and looked deep into the torrent of Kojuro’s eyes.

“I’m going to kiss him now,” you said. “Is that alright, Milord?”

“Of course,” Kojuro said with a genuine smile. “He earned it just as much as I did.”

Kojuro watched as you leaned over to Tsunamoto. For perhaps the first time ever, Tsunamoto looked thrown off, almost nervous, which exhilarated you. You lips brushed over his. He looked over at Kojuro questioningly, and Kojuro nodded encouragingly. Satisfied with this, Tsunamoto closed his eyes and drew you closer, hungrily lapping at and biting your lips. You expected him to be an aggressive kisser compared to Kojuro, but there was also a sweetness about the way he gently swept his tongue against yours. 

Tsunamoto broke the kiss before you were ready. You hadn’t even noticed that Kojuro had moved the broken table aside and moved closer to you. The two men stood up and pulled you up between them. 

“Are you sure you want this?” Kojuro asked. You looked at the dizzyingly handsome men on either side of you. “Want us?” 

“Yes,” you panted as you kissed Kojuro again, grabbing his collar. You felt Kojuro loosen your obi as Tsunamoto stood behind you and began to kiss your neck, his hands loosening your collar. You reached to grasp at both of their hair as Tsunamoto opened up your kimono, exposing your breasts. 

Kojuro leaned back and took the sight in before leaning down and taking your nipple into his mouth. From behind, Tsunamoto took your other breast into his hand and possessively turned your head to kiss you. 

“Nghgh,” you moaned as both the men worked your breasts. Kojuro finally removed your obi and your body was completely exposed. He licked his fingers and placed them between your legs, where he began stroking you. You were already wet, but you had to admit you missed his touch. Tsunamoto slid the kimono completely off your shoulders, his hands trailed down the sides of your body and he grabbed a handful of your ass. 

“Fuck,” Tsunamoto exhaled. “You have this parading around your office all day?” You caught a glimmer of pride in Kojuro’s eyes as you set to work on Kojuro’s obi, freeing him of his robes. You were pleased to find he was already hard. You grasped him, and looked behind you to find Tsunamoto removing his own robe. 

“Come here,” Tsunamoto said as he lowered himself to the floor and lied down. Kojuro guided you to Tsunamoto’s head and gently pushed you down onto your knees until they flanked Tsunamoto’s ears. You could feel the warmth of Tsunamoto’s breath on your slit. Kojuro stood in front of you, his member in hand. You grabbed it and held it to your lips, teasing his tip with your tongue as Tsunamoto ran his fingers in and out of your folds, spreading them. You finally took Kojuro fully into your mouth just as Tsunamoto pulled you down fully onto his lips and eager tongue. You immediately felt a pulse of pleasure shoot from Tsunamoto’s tongue to your extremities, and you let out a loud moan around Kojuro. 

You started to squirm, but Tsunamoto held you in place like a clamp as he lapped you up. There was clearly no escaping your own pleasure—the only thing you could do, really, was take it out on Kojuro. You furiously swirled your tongue around him. Cursing, Kojuro ran his fingers through your hair and pushed further into your mouth, which in turn, made you grind your hips harder on Tsunamoto’s face, who moaned as he sucked on your clit.

“Ride him,” Kojuro growled and you looked up. “I want to see.” He was wearing the same face he was when he watched you at training earlier that day. Feeling your climax start to build up, you began to ride Tsunamoto’s face harder, thrusting your hips back and forth whimpering, his fingers clenched deep in your hips, his tongue unabating. You started to lose focus and could barely hold onto Kojuro, abandoning his pleasure in search of your own. “You’re so beautiful,” he said, captivated, as you grabbed your own breast and unraveled before him on Tsunamoto’s face with a full-throated sigh. 

You got off Tsunamoto and collapsed as he got on his knees. "God I hope she feels as good as she tastes,” Tsunamoto said, licking the corners of his mouth.

“He would know,” you said boldly staring down Kojuro.

“Find out for yourself,” Kojuro said. The two men looked at you and you nodded.

Tsunamoto pulled you to him. He sat back on his heels and guided you into his lap, wrapping your legs around him as his tip teased your opening before pushing himself in. 

“You feel incredible,” Tsunamoto uttered in amazement. He stretched you out gently.

You surveyed the scar that trailed down Tsunamoto’s brow and onto his regal cheek. Your gaze locked on his other eye and as he began thrusting in earnest, it suddenly became so clear why Tsunamoto carried himself with endless confidence. You watched him roll his hips tantalysingly slow and deep into you, hitting all the right spots.

“How does he feel, precious girl?” Kojuro asked. He was stroking himself at the sight of you. 

“He feels so—uuuunnnh!” Your response was interrupted by a particularly deep plunge Tsunamoto took. 

You looked back at Kojuro and reached for him, but he leaned back just out of reach with a mean grin. “You need to learn to focus on the task at hand,” he said lovingly. He watched as Tsunamoto drove into you harder and faster, his strong arms essentially keeping you floating as he slid in and out of you. Kojuro was completely entranced, savoring the way your eyes glazed over as his oldest friend in the world fucked the woman he loved if only he'd let himself, wondering if the most precious things weren’t meant to be shared. 

Tsunamoto slowed down in an attempt to stave off his own climax. Kojuro kneeled behind you, steadying you as Tsunamoto pulled out of you and you got your bearings.

“Are you alright, precious girl?” You nodded, catching your breath. 

“Good. All fours,” Kojuro directed. You did so, swaying your hips in an attempt to further tempt him. Kojuro sidled up behind you and caressed your back, kissing the dimples on your lower back. Your eyes met Tsunamoto’s as Kojuro positioned his cock between your folds and pressed in. You let out a long, lusty moan that bloomed more for every inch he filled you. He hadn’t taken you from behind before, and you wondered how you’d be able to work alongside him anymore after this.

You lost yourself in Kojuro’s languid thrusts and found yourself again, grinding back against him. He whisked you up on your knees, pressing your back against his chest. 

“Not a day has gone by that I haven’t thought of you,” he professed softly into your ear. “That I haven’t dreamed of feeling you like this again.” He wrapped his arm around your torso to keep you in place as he dove in and out of you. Tsunamoto crawled over to you and bent down, pressing his tongue squarely on your clit.

“Ahhnn!” You cried out as he raked his tongue up and down from your clit to your opening where Kojuro was thrusting into you. 

The sensation was too much too soon, so you grabbed Tsunamoto’s hair, pulled him to your face, and gave him a frantic, sloppy kiss as you took his cock and stroked him. You felt Kojuro lean over your shoulder, and you pulled away.

“She taste as good as she feels?” Kojuro asked as Tsunamoto approached. You watched as the two men took each other by the lips. You joined in, the three of you licking, biting, sucking each other as you pumped Tsunamoto to Kojuro’s rhythm.

Tsunamoto stood up in a frenzy and placed his cock on your lips. You knew he was close, and you took him into your mouth. “You are taking us so well,” Tsunamoto said as you devoured him. As Kojuro devoured you. You whined as you felt the electricity build up in your core. 

“Don’t stop,” you pleaded. “I’m so close!” 

Kojuro managed to fuck you even faster and harder. He brought his hand between your legs, his fingers fluttering on your clit as Tsunamoto all but fucked your mouth. Kojuro groaned as you screamed in pleasure around Tsunamoto’s cock. 

“I’m coming,” Tsunamoto rasped as he ejected into your mouth. You did your best to take it all as you reached your own climax. You felt feverish, heat tearing through your body and cracking you open. 

“Come for me my precious girl,” Kojuro snarled in your ear. 

You let out a cry as the pleasure rushed through you, leaving you trembling. You tightened unbearably around Kojuro’s cock, and he finally released into you with a curse.

The three of you collapsed on the floor, sprawled in a heap of pleasure and exhaustion and a giggle or two. 

“If only every trip to Oshu was this fun,” Tsunamoto simpered. You sighed a chuckle in response.

Kojuro reached up for his kiseru. You caressed his back, muscular by training, worn by war. “You know, [y/n],” he panted. “You should take the night off more often.”

You and Tsunamoto shared a knowing look, both helplessly endeared by the precious, precious man. 

[elvish-sky]

Beloved: My Everything

A.N: I’m back with part 2 of Beloved!! I’ll be coming back for real tomorrow, but I was so excited that I could not wait to post this! You can probably tell I had way too much fun with this, and I really did. And I got to write Arien again! I hope you guys love it as much as I do!!

Word Count: 3,712

Summary: Erebor is preparing for the seven-year anniversary celebration of the BotFA. As the Queen, you are fully involved, but you and Thorin also have to manage the excitement of your adopted seven-year-old, Arien. 

Pairings: Thorin x Reader, Bard x Thranduil, Fíli x Sigrid

Warnings: Fluff. Kissing. 

Beloved Part 1 Director’s Commentary

****

Beloved: My Everything

“Adad! Mama! Look!”

           Arien was sprinting down the hallway towards the council room, newly lost tooth in hand as she called out for her father. Bursting through the double doors, the seven-year-old ran the length of the room before jumping into Thorin’s lap, proudly grinning to show him the new gap in her teeth.

Sitting next to your husband, you stifled a giggle as Thorin examined the tooth, looking like he was examining a precious piece of metal because of how focused he was. Meanwhile, the rest of the council was in various states of annoyance or fond disapproval of the meeting, Balin shaking his head with a smile at the picture the royal family was painting.

It was true you were an odd group. After adopting Arien on the quest for Erebor and reclaiming the mountain, your future had seemed uncertain while Thorin’s life hung in the balance. But he had recovered, and the two of you had been married in a stunning ceremony, with a toddler Arien placing the queen’s crown on your head. The dwarves had been worried at first about having a human queen and princess, but your calming effect on Thorin and Arien’s general cuteness had quickly won them over. Of course, the fact that your first council meeting ever had started with you walking in and throwing knives in rapid succession so that they speared the table between each of the council members (except Balin’s) hands may have given them a healthy fear of you as well. 

Now, six years later, the kingdom was thriving. Trade with Dale was stronger than ever, and the uneasy alliance with the elves had grown into something more tolerant. In fact, Kings Thranduil and Bard would be visiting in five days for the anniversary of the Battle of the Five Armies, as it had come to be known.

The year after the battle was a hard one. Thorin and his nephews were grievously injured, and while they healed it had been up to you and Balin to run the kingdom. On the first anniversary of the Battle, the mood in Erebor was noticeably somber. Although the king and princes had healed, it didn’t seem as if the kingdom would ever fully recover. You had noticed this, and remembering that an elven envoy, with the king, was in Dale, had mustered up a feast and invited the men and elves to what would become a yearly tradition. 

Now, you were in the throes of planning the event with the council. 

“That tooth is lovely, darling. Now go play so that Mama and I can finish work, ok?” Thorin pressed the tooth back into Arien’s hand. “And take good care of this!” 

Arien left the room with a beaming smile, waving at all of the councilors.

Days later, Arien burst into the room you shared with Thorin. 

“Mama! Adad! Wake up! The elves are coming today!”

Thorin groaned. “Arien. How many times do I have to tell you that you should not be this excited about elves? You should be happier to see orcs than you should be to see elves.”

She grinned, ignoring him and throwing open the curtains, the sunlight streaming through the windows setting her dark skin aglow. 

“Arien, no.” You gestured for her to close them, shielding your face from the early morning sun. 

“But Mama they’re coming today! Imma see Sigrid and Bain and Tilda, and Uncle Bard and Uncle Thranduil and Leggy!” She pranced about the room, gesturing as she talked about everyone.

You smirked at Thorin, who had one arm thrown over his face, hair splayed on the pillow. His bare chest was glowing in the sunlight, but you were focused on the expression of annoyance you could barely see under his arm. Thorin was extremely disapproving of the fact that your daughter called Thranduil ‘Uncle,’ and adored Legolas so much. Personally, you thought it was great, helping to bridge the divide between the kingdoms. You also were friends with the Elven-King, him having sheltered you during the whole Arkenstone fiasco, and Legolas was one of your good friends as well. 

“I suppose we should get up.” You shooed Arien out of the room, into her adjoining set in the royal wing, before turning back to your husband. You leaned down to kiss him. 

“C’mon, Thorin. We really should get up.” You pressed a trail of kisses down his jaw, hoping to coax him up.

He groaned, sitting up. “Fine. I suppose I should look my best to upstage the elves.”

You sighed. “If that’s what gets you up then so be it.”

Thorin smirked at you, standing up and grabbing a leather tie from his wardrobe, and binding his hair back so that it cascaded down his back. You walked over to him, hugging him from behind. 

“You know that Arien and I will always love you more than the elves, right?” 

He nodded, turning to kiss you. “I love you too.” 

Later that day, you strode down the hall, Dori by your side.

“We have everything set up in the hall?”

He nodded.

“All the food is ready?”

He nodded again.

“And the drinks? We have the Mirkwood wines that they shipped ahead?”

“Yes, Y/N. Everything is going to be fine, we’ve been planning for months. Now, the elves are about to arrive. You need to meet your husband and daughter at the gates.”

“Ok, then. See you later?”

“Go, Y/N!” Dori shooed you in the direction of the gates, and, laughing, you turned and walked away.

You stood at the entrance to Erebor, holding hands with a bouncing Arien, Thorin on her other side. You shared a smile with him, leaning over your daughter to kiss him quickly before turning to face the approaching elves. Thranduil dismounted from his elk, Legolas doing the same from his horse, and they walked towards you.

“Your majesties, your highness,” the Elven-King greeted you all with a nod of his head. 

You and Thorin returned the greeting in kind, clasping the elves’ forearms. Arien stood there, now quivering with excitement, and when you nodded to her that it was okay to say hello she burst forward with a cry of, “Uncle Thranduil!!” throwing herself into his arms.

“Hello, little one,” Thranduil greeted her with a smile, hugging her back only slightly awkwardly. 

You had to admit that your daughter had a good effect on the elf, he was much less prickly than he used to be. You fondly recalled the time when, visiting Mirkwood with Arien and Thorin, you had been unable to find your daughter for several hours. It was only upon going outside that you discovered the Princess of Erebor and the King of Mirkwood making flower-crowns together. Thorin’s jaw had dropped, while you had just smiled, watching Arien’s springy coils of hair bounce, her dark skin glowing as she ran around the elf, weaving flowers into his hair. 

Now, Thranduil was lifting Arien to pet his elk, smiling as the child giggled. He set her down after a moment, looking behind you at the three new dwarves who had just appeared. 

“Your highnesses.” He dipped his head again in greeting, this time to Fíli, Kíli, and Dis. They greeted him in kind before Kíli strode forward to Legolas. The elf bent his head to listen to the dwarf, before nodding and following the dwarf into the mountain, gesturing about what looked like bows and other archery-related things.

“And, that’s the last we’ll see of Legolas and Kíli until someone finds them to bring them to the party!” Thorin smiled as he spoke, and with that, the last of the remaining tension was broken. Thorin grabbed Arien’s hand, leading the delighted child back into the mountain. Thranduil offered you his arm and you gladly accepted, chatting with an old friend as the rest of the elven delegation followed you into Erebor.

“When will Bard be arriving?” 

Your eyebrows rose at the informal use of the king’s name, but you answered nonetheless. 

“We expect him just before dusk.”

Thranduil smiled softly at this, piquing your curiosity even more, but you let it slide and continued the conversation to other topics. 

Back in your rooms, having repeated the whole greeting process with Bard, you helped your husband and daughter get ready for the party. Thorin had donned his finest Durin blue robes, the silver embroidery twining around the cuffs and the hem and highlighting the silver strands of his hair. Arien was resplendent in bright gold, her circlet glowing against her dark skin. Her new dress had blue embroidery around the hem, with reflective panels sewn in to refract golden light all over the room. 

And you were radiant in a silver dress, full skirts swirling around your feet and Durin blues ribbons twined through your hair. Your crown sat on your brow lightly, you having opted for the delicate one to save yourself a headache. The three of you put together looked like the very picture of royalty, the elements of Durin blue in each outfit tying it all together as a familial piece. 

Later that night, you sat at the high table, gazing around the great room. Arien had been hauled off by Bain and Tilda, and you could see the two older ones playing with her, all three looking delighted. 

Sigrid and Fíli were at the center of the dance floor, her laughing at something he said as he twirled her around. You looked forward to cashing in the bet you had made with Thorin about them being a couple- you were rarely right and had lost spectacularly in the bet you had made about Kíli and Legolas (you had been so certain they were dating, but it was just their shared love of archery. And, as Thorin has pointed out, two people that obsessed with their hair would not have worked well in a relationship). Besides, your nephew looked very happy with the human girl.

Kíli and Legolas had deigned to join the party after their customary archery competition, and each was mingling with different crowds. Legolas looked to be regaling a group of humans with his exploits, while Kíli had joined his cousin, Bain, and Tilda in making mischief. 

Meanwhile, Thranduil and Bard were conversing in a corner, leaned close together over their glasses of wine, which made you even more suspicious. You resolved to find out what was going on with the two of them while they were staying with you for the next several days. 

Thorin tapped you on the shoulder, startling you from your observations. You looked up to see him standing next to your chair, hand outstretched. 

“Shall we dance, amralîme?”

“Yes, please. Let’s show them how it’s done.”

You grabbed his hand, walking over to the dance for and twirling on. You heard clapping as the King and Queen of Erebor were spotted on the dance floor, and smiled. There were few things you loved more than dancing with your husband, and so as the band began to play you started.

The dancing was lovely, you switched partners after the first to dance with Fíli, then with a suddenly appearing Kíli, then Legolas. Thranduil swooped in to take your hand after his son, and Bard danced with you after the elf. Your night was rounded out by Bain asking for a dance, which you happily obliged (you didn’t want to be disloyal to any of the others, but aside from the elves, who were inherently graceful, Bain was the best dancer of the lot). 

As you walked off the dance floor for what you hoped was the last time (your feet were starting to hurt), you noticed that the room was quickly emptying. It made sense, it was extremely late. You had left the celebration halfway through to put Arien to sleep, leaving an equally sleepy Kíli to watch over her. Sigrid had left with Bain and Tilda a little while ago, while Fíli sat on the dais with his uncle, softly speaking with him. Bard and Thranduil had disappeared at some point as well, although you could not say when, or if they had left together. 

Now, you walked up the dais to grab your husband. Saying a quick farewell to Fíli, you entwined your fingers with Thorin’s, making your way out of the hall. 

“I think we’ll be having another wedding soon,” your husband said. 

You grinned. “I did tell you so. Now pay up.”

He dipped his head in acknowledgment. “So you did. And I can’t fulfill the bet until it snows, you know that.”

You did. You had set the conditions of the bet to be that if Thorin won, you’d have to dress like him for two weeks. You wouldn’t have minded, except for the large clunky boots he always wore. You would have looked ridiculous If you won, Thorin had to have a snowball fight with whoever the highest-ranking visiting diplomat was.

Reaching your room, you leaned against the door. 

“I had a lovely night.” You leaned in to kiss your husband.

“I did too.” He kissed you back, before pushing open the door.

You gasped as you entered your room, looking through the windows. It was snowing. 

“I guess you’ll have to fulfill your end of the best tonight!” You smirked. “And you know, we have two equally high-ranking people in Erebor right now!”

Thorin buried his face in his hands. “You’re telling me I have to start a snowball fight with Thranduil and Bard.”

You grinned, quickly changing into a warm tunic and boots, throwing a cloak over it all as Thorin did the same.

As you headed out the door, you heard Thorin mutter, “actually, throwing a snowball at that pompous elf might not be the worst thing after all,” under his breath, causing you to giggle. 

You first went next door to Arien’s room, waking Kíli while careful not to rouse Arien. The prince was groggy at first, but brightened when you said the words “snowball fight.” 

“Should we wake Arien?” Kíli was putting on his own cloak as he spoke.

You looked at Thorin, considering. 

“She’ll be very upset if she finds out we played in the snow without her,” Thorin observed. 

You walked over to her bed, shaking her gently awake.

“Mama? Is it morning?” Arien blinked her eyes open, groggy.

“No, my darling. It’s snowing! Adad needs to have a snowball fight, so we’re going outside!”

She sprang out of bed. “Snow! I love snow!” 

You helped her put on her small tunic and pants, fastening her cloak tight before she tugged her boots on. Reaching out, she grabbed Thorin and Kíli’s hands. 

“C’mon Adad, c’mon Kee! We’re gonna have a snowball fight!”

You followed them to Fíli’s door, then Dis’, both of whom were enthusiastic about the plan. You sent Fíli, Arien, and Kíli to rouse Bard’s children and Legolas, the adults making your way to Bard’s room. 

Turning the corner, you, Thorin, and Dis stopped short. 

Bard and Thranduil were entwined, kissing, in the middle of the hallway, Bard’s fingers running through the elf’s hair. Hearing your gasp, they broke apart, flushed. You all just stood there, dumbstruck for a moment, before you were spurred into action.

Walking forward, you slung an arm around each of their shoulders. “Yes, yes, congratulations and all that. Now, it’s snowing, so we’re going outside. But we’re all very happy for the two of you.”

Thorin and Dis nodded along with your words, and the five of you walked down the hall towards the gates to meet the rest of the royals. 

At the main entrance, you walked over to the small door beside the massive gates, unlocking it and gesturing for everyone to follow you outside. 

As soon as they were out in the snow, Fíli and Sigrid sprinted away from the mountain, and you could see them beginning to build a fort. Kíli grabbed Bain and Arien to assist him in building another, and Legolas and Tilda were starting to stockpile snowballs together. You could sense that this was the beginning of a snow-war.

Turning around, you saw your husband, the King Under the Mountain, climbing the outside walls of Erebor with a pile of snow cradled in his cloak. Finding a secure perch, he gathered the snow into balls and started raining them down on Thranduil, who shrieked at the cold, startling Bard who stood next to him into quickly moving away. 

Thranduil, running over to his son’s stockpile of snowballs, was bombarded from all sides as he tried to steal from Legolas and Tilda. Succeeding, the elf started throwing them back at Thorin, nailing him directly in his face. Thorin dropped to the ground, Bard hitting him with another snow projectile shortly after. You laughed with Dis as you watched three of the most powerful people in Middle-Earth have a snowball fight. 

Suddenly, white splattered all over Dis, who turned to see her younger son standing sheepishly behind her. 

“Sorry, Amad. I was aiming for Uncle!” Kíli had his hands raised in defense.

“No, you were not! You’re an archer, Kíli, I know you hit what you aim at! And your Uncle is all the way over there!” Dis advanced on Kíli, a snowball in each hand, and her son promptly turned and ran, shrieking as she chased after him. 

You were standing there, quite content to watch it all unfold as Fíli and Sigrid led an attack on Legolas and Tilda, Arien and Bain sneaking up to attack them from the rear. Your peace was disturbed, however, by something ice-cold being shoved down your back. You spun around, screaming, to see a smirking Thorin standing behind you. You tackled him into the snow, wrestling until you had him pinned beneath you. He was flushed, both from the cold and exertion, panting, and so irresistible that you leaned down to kiss him. 

Thorin quickly deepened the kiss, and you responded, until a shout of, “Cool off, lovebirds!” rang out. Springing up in case someone was about to dump snow on you, you saw Tilda and Legolas dumping snow on the heads of Fíli and Sigrid, who quickly broke apart from their kiss with yells of “So cold!” and “Ouch!” Tilda, Bain, and Legolas, with Arien perched on his shoulders.  stood there with large grins on their faces as you and Thorin made your way to join them. 

“Where are your fathers?” you asked Legolas and Tilda. 

They shrugged, and you turned to your husband. 

Thorin smirked. “Shall we go find them?”

You nodded, along with Fíli, Sigrid, Legolas, Arien still on his shoulders, Bain, and Tilda, and all scooped up several snowballs each. Kíli and Dis appeared, Kíli looking suitably chastened, and each grabbed an armful of snow as well. 

“What are we doing?” Kíli whispered. 

“We’re gonna ambush Bard and Thranduil,” Thorin informed him, “Have you seen them?”

Dis nodded, “They’re just around the corner of the walls. But… maybe their children shouldn’t be around for this?”

Sigrid laughed. “It’s fine. They’ve been dating for months now, and neither of them is exactly subtle. Our father has made so many trips to Mirkwood recently that we got suspicious and enlisted Legolas for help.”

The elf nodded. “Tilda snuck to Mirkwood in one of the carts her father brought and told me everything. We officially found out when we walked in on them kissing in the throne room.”

Tilda rolled her eyes. “They really do need to work on stealth. But the important thing here is that they don’t know we know.” 

“So wait. You’ve known for months and didn’t tell us?!” Thorin was offended. 

Bain shrugged. “It wasn’t our news to tell.”

“And that’s exactly the right attitude,” you smiled at him. “Now, let us go ambush some kings!”

Sticking close to the side of the mountain, you all snuck in a line. Thorin and Legolas had climbed up to dump snow on the two kings from above, while the rest of you attacked from the ground. Before climbing, Legolas had transferred Arien to Fíli’s shoulders, where she was happily preparing ammo. 

You held out a hand for everyone behind you to stop, peering around the corner at Thranduil and Bard kissing as the snow fell around them. It looked quite romantic, to be honest, but a good snowball surprise was worth disrupting the moment. 

You motioned to Thorin and Legolas, perched above, to begin. 

“To quote Tilda, cool off, lovebirds!” 

Thorin dumped a pile of snow on their heads, and the rest of you sprung around the corner to bombard them with snowballs.  They quickly retaliated, and it dissolved into chaos once again, everyone having the time of their lives. 

Dis, Bain, and Tilda had taken Arien in a while ago, Dis staying with her niece, but the rest of you had enjoyed the snow for a while longer. You had all officially congratulated Bard and Thranduil on their relationship, and after the initial shock of finding out that their children had known for months, they were very pleased. 

Now, you were walking back to your rooms with your husband in the early hours of the morning. You still felt the blood in your cheeks, exhilarated from the adrenaline and happiness, and Thorin was still flushed from the cold beside you. You pushed open the doors to your bedroom, Thorin shutting them behind you. You walked to your wardrobe, changing out of the soaked tunic and pants into your nightclothes, Thorin doing the same. 

Once changed, you climbed into bed next to your husband, laying your head on his chest. You could hear his heart beating as his hand came up to your face, tilting up to his. Thorin slanted his lips over yours, and you responded for a sweet, long kiss, filled with love and all the emotions you could not put into words.

You decided to try anyway. “I love you so much, amralîme. You’re everything I could ever want. You and Arien.”

Thorin smiled. “I love you too, my everything.” 

You heard the words rumble in his chest, and smiled softly. You had your beloved husband and daughter. Seven years later, everything was perfect. 

Everything tag 💕: @entishramblings @itgetsatadhazy @boyruins @anjhope1 @wellofeternalthirst @kumqu4t @katbby16 @thewhiteladyofrohan @kirstenscaffeinateddisaster @beenovel

Thorin tag: @lathalea

Beloved pt 2 tag: @beakami

[intotherumiverse]

A midnight summer’s choice

A/n: This is a small collab with @hitosushi​! There is a alternative ending over on her blog which can be found here! It was really fun to write this and work with Theo on this!

The king was so allusive. People had always heard about his good deeds, the way he never resorted to war but somehow calmed everyone down. But no one has ever seen him until you. Sero saw you one day walking down the busy streets of the small town right outside the castle. You were so beautiful, your skin glistening in the sun. He knew he had to talk to you. So he did. And the two of you became the best of friends. Adventures with you were like a dream to him, magical fleeting, only caught by the smallest of moments. There was one adventure that changed everything. It started normally. Sero came in the dead of night, hanging upside in his usual spider fashion. He knocked on your window lightly, fearing to wake up anyone other than you.

“Sero? Why are you here?” You harshly whispered. It had been a troublesome night for you, sleep was not granting you relief and you felt antsy, waiting with anticipation.

“(Y/n) would you like to join me on a midnight picnic? I have all the finest delicacies prepared for you, just say the word mi querido.” With a grand flourish, Sero jumps down to the grassy backyard and looks up at your window. “Coming?” The sultry notes in his voice promised a better time, something of secrets and passion, of great fun.

“Let me change first”

The minutes felt like hours while Sero was waiting for you. But it was worth it. Your skin glowed in the pale moonlight, glittering that all the jewels in his throne room.

"Ready?" You'd asked, smiling the big smile you love. So the both of you took off, to the places of secrets and passion. When no one would miss the both of you. Where roles of king and commoner were forgotten and the only thing that stood was 2 people intertwined together through fate. Midnight dances and laughter ensues the entire night. The scent of fresh berries and bread lingered in the air long after the 2 of you were done. It was a feast, but Sero wasn't done yet.

"Come on (Y/N), I have something to show you."

"After this feat? I don't think I can move an inch." You patted your stomach in content, full of the delicious foods you had just consumed.

"It'll be worth it, I promise."

It was worth it. The lake was beautiful, reflecting the full moon. Around the lake, there were floating lanterns, gently wrapping around the boat in front of you. Stepping in, Sero asks gently

"Come in querido."

Which leads you to this moment. It felt like a dream, surreal. Nothing made sense but everything did at the same time.

"(Y/N), I've never been one for fancy embellished words or big gestures, so I'll tell you right here, right now. I love you"

You reeled in shock. Sero was a king! Someone of great importance, who rules a entire country. You were one person, someone of no importance, who’s destiny is to live and die quietly.

“Sero,” you cupped his face, tears pricking the corners of your eyes “You want me, a simple commoner to rule beside you? But how can I, there are so many people out there who could fit to rule with you-“ Sero stops you with a kiss. He lips brushed yours , softly, delicately, like butterfly wings, just long enough that he could inhale your breath ,feel the warmth of your skin, being surrounded by the soft lights of the lanterns. Pulling away softly, Sero says

“I can’t imagine life without your (Y/n). You’re what I think of in the mornings and the last thing I think of at night. Please, I’ll get down on my two knees and beg, I love you that much”

You’ve always felt something for the king but you couldn’t bring yourself to act on it. But here in this moment, every fiber in your is telling you to say yes. To agree and let him take you away.

“I love you too Sero”

Tagging: @mypimpademia @solar3lunar @rosetheshapeshifter@bubblime @angiebug101 @melanin-baddie @noir-ethereal@quincywrites @myhoodacademia @1-800-s1mping @vangooh-works @wherearewegoinglesbians @kunikida-kun@dragonsdreamoffire @her-majesty-kiara @lilsparkyswife @iiminibattlehero @imabitobsessedlove @silkylious @mixfi @procrastination-lady @izukus-deku @hitosushi 

[plus-size-reader]

Consequences

Ivar the Boneless x Plus size!reader

Word Count: 1844 words

Warnings: murder? Ivar/Sigurd dynamic

Summary: Sigurd talking badly about you, knowing its the one thing that really gets to Ivar, and having to deal with the consequences.

——————————————————————————————————

It was no secret that Sigurd liked to get a rise out of his youngest brother. Anything he could do to upset Ivar he would do without a second thought, and you all knew it. 

However, more and more Sigurd was finding Ivar less willing to fall into his cheap attempts at upsetting him. 

...So, he decided to evolve his technique. 

More than anything else in the world, Ivar cared for you. In all his life, he had never found himself more drawn to another person and his love for you knew no bounds. 

There was nothing he wouldn’t do for you and to Sigurd, that made you the perfect target for his attacks. 

He knew no hatred for you personally, but the best way to upset Ivar would be by using you, so he was going to just have to get cruel. His monster of a brother deserved it, maybe if even you didn’t. 

Sigurd had been so miserable at the hands of his brother for so long, that it was only right he administered some of his own consequences upon him. 

He just had to find the best time to make this all work, and he found it in the form of a feast, thrown outside to celebrate the changing of seasons. The flowers were in full bloom and you never passed it up. 

After all, you insisted on a feast like this one every year and not one of Ragnar’s sons was going to argue with you. 

Instead, they each took their seat at the table and waited for you to sit among them, ready for whatever courses you’d set on having the thralls make. You always took this very seriously, and they couldn’t fault you for it. 

It didn’t hurt that Ivar had threatened each and every one of them with countless nights of torture if that smile was forced from your face. 

This didn’t matter to them, but it certainly did to you and if anything ruined that, they would surely never hear the end of it. 

“The lamb should be out in a few seconds boys, for now we have plenty of ale” you grinned, sitting down at the table beside Ivar, holding your own horn filled to the brim with golden liquid. 

As best you could tell, there was nothing going on. However, that changed rather quickly as soon as Sigurd opened his mouth. He saw a window to jab at his brother through and he was going to take it. 

...And without missing a beat, he did. 

“It’s no surprise at all that you had something as decadent as a lamb prepared, I suppose” he started, leaning across the table toward where you were sitting,  his eyes fully focused on you. 

You had no idea what he was doing, but you didn’t care. 

You were having too good a time to let Sigurd bring you down, not to mention what a waste it would be to let his foul mood ruin the excellent weather. 

Not that your shrugging him off the first time was enough to put a stop to his coming attack. You were a very easy target for Sigurd’s torment, and there was nothing he could do about it. 

It wasn’t clever or anything, and certainly not his finest moment, but Sigurd didn’t care. He was angry at his brother, and nothing else was as important as getting back at him. 

Especially not right now.

“Come on, tell us all...how much of that young lamb are you planning on eating? I wouldn’t be surprised if it was all gone as soon as they set the tray in front of you” he continued, spewing poorly worded insults your way which you again ignored. 

Though, Ivar wasn’t nearly as inclined to allow Sigurd a pass. He could be as cruel as he wanted to anyone other than you. 

As far as you were concerned, he should have known better than to open his mouth. 

“Watch your mouth brother” Ivar started, his jaw tight and his fist clenched as he watched him. Sigurd had quite a lot going on in his head right now but he wasn’t afraid of what Ivar would do. 

In fact, he was looking forward to seeing how you would react if he kept pushing all those buttons.

You sighed, reaching out to take his hand in your own, trying your hardest to calm him before something bad happened. You knew that his temper could be a little uncontrollable but if you could do anything to make it better, you had to. 

“I’ve had enough food prepared for each of you Sigurd, don’t worry about that” you assured, breathing deep to keep your composure. You didn’t care about his weak insults, not really. 

Perhaps they stung a little, but you were not children playing in the street anymore. Each of you was an adult, and if Sigurd had a problem with the way you looked, he could deal with that himself. 

You didn’t have to concern yourself with his opinions. 

...But Ivar didn’t have that luxury. 

As soon as his spiteful brother opened his mouth, he had started something there was no end to and he had to be taught a lesson. For making you question yourself, Ivar was going to punish him. 

“I have no doubt that’s true, I just hope they don’t have to loosen the seams of that dress too much” Sigurd finally chided, giving one last blow before deciding he’d done enough damage for the day.

By the time he’d finished that sentence, Ivar was practically vibrating with rage and it couldn’t have been better for Sigurd. This was what he wanted all along, after all. 

He wanted to get a rise out of his brother, and a rise he had gotten for sure. 

“Shut your mouth!” Ivar yelled now, seeing red as he looked upon his brother. How dare he say those things about you? After all the hard work you’d gone through to have this entire feast set up. 

You didn’t even have to include Sigurd and you’d done it anyway. 

Understandably, there was a moment or two of silence as each of you in turn tried to decide what to do. You had no idea what had gotten into Sigurd as of late, but you had no words. 

You had been nothing but kind to him and out of nowhere, he was being completely cruel, seemingly for no reason. 

“I was just making an observation” Sigurd shrugged casually, knowing that the more nonchalant he was, the more difficult it would be for Ivar to keep his cool.

...And he was right. 

Before any of you knew what was happening, Ivar had thrown his axe across the table, causing it to land square in Sigurd’s chest. You had no idea what to do, or how to react. 

After all, it all happened so fast and as Ubbe and Hvitserk rushed to where he was now laying on the deck, you could only sit with wide eyes, waiting for someone to address you. 

Had that been your fault? You had tried so hard to keep your calm and not cause problems but Ivar had been angry anyway. So angry, in fact, that he had likely just killed his own brother. 

He killed Sigurd. 

~

The events after had gone just as fast as to be expected, but you didn’t have a chance to clear your head until you were in your room, much later in the night. 

Your feast had been ruined. 

The day had been ruined. 

...And Sigurd was dead. 

That left you, sitting in your bedroom, having to wonder if you had made this happen. Was there anything you could have done to keep him alive? Had you reacted poorly in the moment?

Maybe Ivar had caught on to some behavioral cue that you didn’t even know you were giving during Sigurd’s attack on you. You had no idea what it could have been, but there was no going back now. 

Whatever it was, you would never really know the truth. 

The silence in the room was interrupted by Ivar, entering without so much as a courtesy knock to make sure that you were decent. It didn't matter, not to him. 

You could have been in there doing anything and he wouldn’t have batted an eye. 

Right now, he just needed to be with you. Nothing else mattered more than that. 

“What are you doing in here? All alone” he wondered, having looked all over for you before finally deciding that you would be in your room, turned in for the night. 

Perhaps you were pouting over the fate of your precious feast? Whatever it was, it didn’t even occur to Ivar that it could have something to do with his brother, whom you would all be burying in the morning. 

That didn’t even cross his mind. 

“You murdered Sigurd today” 

It took a moment or two for you to even decide what you wanted to say. You didn’t want to upset Ivar, but at a certain point, you decided that you didn’t care. There was no need to protect his feelings after what he’d just done. As much as you loved Ivar, he needed a quick dose of reality. 

“I did not. It was an accident, he kept saying all those terrible things about you” he huffed, knowing that he should have been prepared for that. You never let him get away with anything. 

Even if he thought he was doing it for the right reasons. 

“I understand that Ivar, but I can handle a little bit of ridicule. No one can handle an axe to the chest” you scoffed, scooting over on your bed to make room for Ivar, as he made his way over. 

You weren’t sure how to handle this. 

All your life, you had been making excuses for Ivar and assuring everyone around you that he meant well and that he wasn’t as cruel as they thought. You had always had his back, and you knew that he had yours. 

However, you weren’t prepared for what that would mean until today. Ivar had never killed someone for you before, at least, as far as you knew and it was a lot to take on at once. 

He had murdered his own brother, in pursuit of protecting your honor. It was almost hard to believe. 

“I’m sorry, but at least now the rest of the men know not to make comments about you” he joked, keeping his voice somber though there was a grin on his face. 

It wasn’t funny, and he knew that, but you couldn’t help but laugh anyway. He had done something horrible, but at least he had come to check on you. 

It wasn’t much, but it was more than you’d been prepared for. No one could ever say that he wasn’t caring, at least where you were concerned. You just wished that courtesy extended to other people too. 

Perhaps if it did, Sigurd would still be alive. 

[vosh-rakh]

meeting of the minds

Ku-vastei wearily steps inside from the rain, slamming the round metal door behind her. She begins to wring out her robes, swearing to every god and saint she knows under her breath.

A heavily-armored man draws his sword and points it towards her. “What are you doing here, slave?”

Too tired to speak, Ku simply glares at the cyrod as she continues to dry herself off.

“How did you get up here?” pursues the warrior, stepping closer. “These are Master Aryon’s private -”

Before he can take another step, a daedric spearpoint materializes in xanthous light at his throat, freezing him in place. “Come no closer, n’wah,” Ku declares, her tired voice deep and rumbling, “if you value your neck.” 

“Turedas? What’s all this commotion about?” calls a silvery voice from upstairs. A dunmer descends the spiral staircase, hiking up his robe so he doesn’t trip. He spies Ku-vastei with her conjured weapon pressed against his bodyguard’s gorget and his face lights up. “Ah, Turedas, settle down. This is the guest I told you to expect.”

The cyrod carefully sheathes his weapon, and Ku follows suit, the spear dissipating into tiny flecks of yellow floating to the ceiling and beyond. “I did not expect you meant to meet with a slave, Councilor,” says Turedas, his eyes still carefully trained on Ku.

“She is no slave of mine or anyone else,” replies Master Aryon, patting the warrior on the back. Ku-vastei notices he lacks the coarse Vvardenfell accent. “She is like Smokeskin-killer, a free argonian. We do not keep slaves in Tel Vos.” He smiles at Ku-vastei. “My apologies for the confusion. My man here once worked at the slave market in Sadrith Mora. Despite his Cyrodiilic origins, his heart was hardened to the abuses there.”

Ku-vastei grunts and goes back to wringing out her robes. “No, no,” interjects Aryon, taking a careless step closer. “Here. Allow me. You’ll feel warmer for a moment.”

Ku narrows her eyes but allows him. With a wave of his hand, vaporous orange light encircles her, pulling the moisture from her clothing and suffusing her body with a pleasant warmth. Her tail pulls itself taut with a cozy shiver. “Thank you,” she offers in return.

“Think nothing of it, muthsera. Come upstairs with me, I was just about to sit down for dinner.” He waves her towards the stairs with a practiced bow and flourish of his hands. “Turedas, if you would, please mop up the entryway.”

Turedas groans but nods in deference to his master. Ku follows Aryon up the fungal stairs, her tail “accidentally” slapping Turedas on her way past. As they climb, she begs the question, “See, you know what stairs are. No levitation necessary to go from one floor to the other. Then why do you require it to access this tower at all?”

“It is a longstanding tradition of the Telvanni,” answers Master Aryon. “We are a House steeped in wizardry, of course. So to reach our finest, you must prove yourself capable of such an essential spell, or at least resourceful enough to buy or brew a potion. This way it is impossible for lesser men to waste our often valuable time.” He pauses, then adds, “...Or so the tradition goes.”

“So you hesitate before tradition?” Ku observes.

“In its most outdated forms, yes.”

“Yet you keep the common folk of Vos a mile away from you. Very faithful adherence.”

The magister turns to look at Ku-vastei for a moment, then smiles. “...Some traditions die harder than others. Some must be followed so that others may be changed. It is a sacrifice. You are very observant, Ku-vastei, and that shall do you well in House Telvanni.”

They arrive at the second floor of the fungiform tower, where a table ladened with food awaits. “Be my honored guest, muthsera, and have a seat,” Master Aryon proclaims, throwing his arms wide with entreaty.

As Ku-vastei sets aside her pack and cautiously tucks her tail to sit at the table, she admires with salivating tongue the grand feast laid out before her: gleaming slaughterfish sashimi with an inky dipping sauce; an entire leg of mudcrab, plump and stuffed with golden meat; perfectly molded saltrice balls, neatly tucked into hackle-lo leaves; a bowl of bright blue roasted dovah-flies; and a large cup of mulled shein, steaming with an intoxicating aroma. She lifts it to her nose with both hands, inhaling deeply. The weather must have clogged her sinuses, because the blast of spices clears them right back out, like a fire removing a colony of its congestive kwama.

“Feel free to help yourself,” Aryon says, taking his own seat and separating his corkbulb chopsticks. “I prepared enough for the both of us.”

Ku takes a mighty swig of the shein before setting it back down. She forgoes her own pair of chopsticks and begins popping dovah-flies into her mouth with gusto, each one carefully pinched between her claws. Aryon watches attentively as he slowly dips a piece of sashimi into the black sauce.

“You knew -” Ku says between bite-swallows, “- that I would be coming.”

Aryon ignores this observation, instead making one of his own. “You approach this meal with proud carelessness. Who is to say I haven’t poisoned the dovah-flies?”

Ku laughs, picking up the massive crab leg. “A man of your status should know we argonians are immune to the poisons of men and mer.”

“Yes,” Aryon replies with a chuckle of his own. “Of men and mer, yes. But I know of at least three brewed in the dark depths of your homeland that are immune to your immunity.”

The leg cracks open violently, mudcrab meat scattering across the table. 

“But you needn’t worry,” entreats Aryon. He moves his chopsticks in a single calculated motion to pick up a dovah-fly and pops it into his mouth, savoring the crunch before continuing. “Such poisons have no antidotes. We are here as allies, Ku-vastei. We serve the same purpose. In serving me, you serve yourself.” He pauses to fish a piece of misplaced crab meat out of the murky depths of the sauce. “My Mouth told me you were coming.” He taps on a lavender-stoned ring on his finger as he chews.

“...Telepathic ring?” Ku asks, her pupils dilating slightly as she examines it. She gently takes a saltrice ball and nibbles on it, a bit more cautiously now, despite Aryon’s assurances.

“Close,” Aryon says after swallowing. “Teleportation. I prefer to meet face to face. I had Galos take the long way back to Sadrith Mora.” He rolls the ring under his fingers across the table towards Ku-vastei. “This is yours now, as I’m making you my new Mouth.”

“I’m not standing around in Sadrith Mora all day.” Ku’s hunger gets the best of her, and she finishes off the ball quickly. But the words have an effect - she takes her own pair of chopsticks and awkwardly fiddles with them to pick up a piece of sashimi. She does not touch the ring just yet.

Aryon laughs. “No, no, I won’t expect that of you. Galos will still take care of the minor clerical duties of the position.” He watches Ku’s attempts with a frown. “Look. See how I hold them? Like this,” he says, rotating his hand towards Ku-vastei. He deftly picks up a dovah-fly and pops it into his mouth.

Ku adjusts her grip and tries to pick up a dovah-fly herself. She manages to lift it a few inches from the bowl before twisting it out of the sticks, sending it rolling off the table. “Xuth,” she exclaims under her breath.

“Much better. You’re a quick learner.” He sets down his chopsticks and leans back in his chair. “I suppose they didn’t teach you proper etiquette at the Savethi Plantation, did they?”

Ku-vastei’s nostrils flare slightly. “You’re very well researched,” she remarks, biding her temper.

“Yes,” Master Aryon says. “I’m well aware of your past prior to arriving on Vvardenfell. Your role in the Arnesian War is particularly impressive. You’re quite the impactful character, Ku-vastei.”

“What’s your point?” Ku lays down her own chopsticks.

“You know, unlike most of my fellows in the House, I’m quite sympathetic to your plight, and that of your people.”

Ku presses a palm firmly on the surface of the table. “You know nothing of ‘our plight,’ n’wah. You live just the same privileged life as the rest of you house-folk.”

Aryon clears his throat and leans in. “I may not have ever been a slave, Ku-vastei, but I am fond of progress. The business of slavery is an ancient tradition, and ancient traditions must be abolished for a new society to blossom. Are you familiar with the teachings of Vivec?”

“No,” Ku-vastei lies. She’s read some of his sermons, but admitting familiarity feels treacherous.

“Ah, nevermind then. But as I said, in order for our society to flourish, it must be destroyed and made anew. This goes especially for our Great House Telvanni. You will find me just as progressive as the staunchest abolitionist.”

He lifts his cup of shein to his nose, inhaling the aroma of the spices. “I’m aware how your name translates from Jel to Aldmeris. ‘Catalyst for necessary change.’ It served you well in rebellion, and I think it can serve us well here. Working with me, you can once again be that catalyst, and forever change the face of Great House Telvanni.” With his offer pitched, he leans back in his chair and takes a sip of the wine.

Ku-vastei mulls it over for a bit. In order to advance within the house, it seems she has little choice. And perhaps he truly will end up a valuable ally. She picks up the ring and inspects it briefly before sliding it onto her middle finger. The magical ring glows in reaction to its new wearer, expanding and tightening to fit comfortably. “One condition,” she says. “Build some damn stairs to this place.”

“Well,” Aryon interjects, “with the ring, you won’t need-”

“I don’t care. Build some stairs.”

Aryon narrows his eyes briefly but smiles. He extends his hand over the feast. “Deal.”

Ku takes his soft hand and shakes it firmly, saying nothing. 

-

After feasting further and conversing about House politics and magical theory, Ku-vastei makes ready to leave. On her way out she meets Turedas again. 

“Good evening, sera,” he says, hissing the honorific.

“I’m Master Aryon’s Mouth now, n’wah.”

The color falls from the cyrod’s face. “Yes, serjo. Of course.”

Ku-vastei turns swiftly towards the door, slapping Turedas with her tail again as she does, before quickly marching out into the clear night.

[all-is-fair-in-love-and-war]

🍴⏰

emoji holiday for Clarice & Aslaug

Thank you so much for the ask! I chose to answer this in sections, hope that's okay :D

🍴 - What kinds of food does your muse like for the holidays?

⏰ - If they were visited by ghosts of holiday past, present, and future what would they see?

Clarice:

🍴: Clarice always enjoys the holidays and makes an effort to ensure that there is something each of her children likes, the same for Lorenzo and any other guests they might be having on the menu for the holiday feast. Clarice herself personally enjoys strawberry tarts which are her favorite treat and Lorenzo always does his best to try and get strawberries from wherever he can for the holidays so she can have them.

Clarice regularly takes food and coin to the poor in Florence, but during the Holidays she takes blankets and warm clothing as well. She always tries to bring as much food as she can and often has other full meals prepared instead of simply taking what is left over.

⏰: : This one is interesting, especially for Clarice. The ghost of holiday past I think would show her, her childhood and her family, but also what the papal states were like when she was little and perhaps they would even show her her Medici family, give her some insight into Cosimo, and Contessina, and Lorenzo the elder and so on.

For the ghost of Holiday present, I think Clarice would see the suffering in Florence if this was during the war with the Pope. It would make her heartache and she would try all the more to try to help the people of Florence. I also this perhaps she would be shown that the Pope regrets his decision to be involved and condone the Pazzi Conspiracy and he too wishes for peace. But of course, he and Lorenzo would both be too stubborn to bow to one another in defeat.

For the ghost of holiday future, I think it would show her the futures of her children and perhaps their fates if Lorenzo did not make peace with the Pope (this being post-Pazzi Conspiracy). She would see the rise of her son Giovanni to Cardinal and eventually Pope, but she would also see the fate of her daughter Maddalena trapped in a political marriage and the death of her two other daughters. Then she would also see the struggle of her son Piero in filling the large legacy his father left behind, and eventually, she would see the Medici fall into ruin. Although perhaps this could be changed if Lorenzo would make his peace with the Pope and they could deal with Friar Savonarola. These dreams would most defiantly make Clarice a bit paranoid but would make her work harder to secure her family a good future.

Aslaug:

🍴: Aslaug always makes sure to have the finest food and drink during any of the celebrations of the gods. She had been planning the feast for this specific celebration for well over two months. Everything had to be perfect, and worthy of the gods. Aslaug would then make sure there was something each of her sons liked at the feast, and plenty of ale.

⏰: : I think the ghost of holiday past would show Aslaug her children's lives after her own life became centered around Ivar. She would see the truth of Siggys death, both adult and child, and all the terrible repercussions that occurred due to her ignoring her other children and solely focusing on Ivar.

When it comes to the ghost of holiday present I think Aslaug might have visions of Ragnar, of where he was during the years after Paris while he was missing from Kattegat.

For the ghost of holiday future. I think Aslaug would see the futures of her sons, and who they were to become. I also think that she may also see her own death, but she knows there is nothing she would be able to do about that. But she would see that her death sparked her sons onto their own paths to fulfill their own destinies. She would see that her blood was well spent. But I also think that when she sees that Ivar clashes with his brothers so much over her death and over Lagertha, I think she would be sad. I don't think she would want her sons to grow to hate each other in such a way. I also don't think she would like that Ivar hunted Lagertha so, and had so much hate towards her that it tore him and his family apart.

[onthesandsofdreams]

Making of a Queen

Pairing: Pepper/Tony Rating: T Summary: She had known the King – Tony as he insisted she called him – for a long time, but he’d never given any indication as to his feeling for her. So, she did her best to swallow down her disappointment and hurt. She would have to deal with it. She wanted him to be happy, even if it wasn’t with her.

And that made Pepper think of the three whole months that had been an unspoken competition to win King Anthony’s hand in marriage. He’d gone and invited all the noble maids of the kingdom, he’d never said for what, but only someone really dumb would not realize why. Words: 2285 Notes: Fantasy AU.

Read @ AO3

Lady Virginia – affectionately known as Pepper – Potts felt like weeping. For today, it would be the ball where King Anthony would make an important announcement. And deep inside, she knew that it was the name of his Queen-to-be. And a part of her despaired at not being chosen. She had known the King – Tony as he insisted she called him – for a long while, but he’d never given any indication as to his feeling for her. So, she did her best to swallow down her disappointment and hurt. She would have to deal with it. She wanted him to be happy, even if it wasn’t with her.

And that made Pepper think of the three whole months that had been an unspoken competition to win King Anthony’s hand in marriage. He’d gone and invited all the noble maids of the kingdom, he’d never said for what, but only someone really dumb would not realize why.

The competition Pepper had experienced was fierce, most ladies were going out of their way to make sure they were constantly in his sight. Some went hunting, even those who hated it. Others tried their best to impress him with art and their talents. Others tried to seduce him – and found much to their surprise that he could not be swayed that way, he might have a reputation, but when it came to true compromise, he could be unyielding.

Pepper had attended several events, she’d gone hawking with the King. The sun had shined with force, while she rode her horse next to King Anthony – at his invitation, of course! - and they spoke about their shared love for horseback riding. “It was my father, majesty, who taught me how to ride.” She told him.

The King had smiled, “For me, it was my mother.”

Pepper had smiled, the late Queen Maria had been well known throughout Nouvelle Yorke for her charitable endeavors, her love for art and her patronage of it in all forms, her love for her people and her excellent skills at hawking. Of course, she had been an excellent and impeccable queen, an even better mother, judging Tony’s love for her. “Then she must have been an excellent teacher.”

For a moment, the King’s face became soft and tender, “Indeed she was.”

Pepper also shared three dances with him during one outdoor feast. The night flowers were blooming, perfuming the air with sweetness, as she danced in King’s arms. Her three dances were consecutive ones, much to the envy of others. And she did her best not to stumble over her words as Tony kissed her hand before having to let go.

On one memorable occasion, Pepper had gone on an early morning ride with the King and some of the members of his council, alongside some warriors of renown, chief among them Colonel Rhodes, a long-time friend of the King. Some few ladies had come, after all, getting up and riding off before the sun was up, was not pleasant for many, but she had loved seeing the capital bathed in a soft mist as the sun slowly rose to the sky.

“Ready to change your Duchy for the Capital, Lady Potts?” Tony had taken her unawares, his smile dazzling even at this early hour.

Pepper had returned the smile, “I don’t know, the Duchy of Rochelle is quite lovely. But the Capital holds a good appeal.”

The King, Tony had laughed, “Then, perhaps we need to find a reason for you to stay.”

Pepper had simply smiled, unsure of what to say to the King’s retort, not that she had much time, for the King winked and rode forward to catch with Colonel Rhodes.

And much to her surprise, he had asked her thoughts on one particular council meeting that all the ladies had been invited to attend. She had hesitated, afraid to offend him, but his deep brown eyes were kind and encouraging, so she spoke. Much to her surprise, his whole face had lit up with amusement. “Well thought out Lady Potts,” his voice sent a shiver down her spine. “I might have to give you a spot in the council.”

Pepper had stumbled, “But, Majesty!” She protested. “Your councilmen would complain!”

The King had arched an eyebrow, given her a cocky grin and said, “And I’m the king and they can deal with it. My kingdom, my choice.”

Pepper had simply stood there, watching his retreating back.

But the biggest surprise had been in the form of a document. Pepper, alongside some very, very few other ladies had received. It was, much to her surprise a trade agreement. She read it, went over it carefully because the King wanted their opinions. That is when she spotted it, her eyes widened at what could possibly spell disaster for the King and be an unfair trade with the neighboring kingdom. She stood and rushed to the King’s solar, only to find a guard at the door who would not budge and let her in.

“This is important!” Pepper hissed at guard. “The King can’t sign this, it will leech his coffers dry, step aside and let me speak with the King!”

The guard shook his head, “Sorry, milady, but the King’s busy!”

Pepper despaired at speaking with the King, so she squared her shoulders and raised her chin. She was Virginia Potts, she would not back off until she spoke with the King. “Listen to me carefully, either you step aside and let me speak with his Majesty, or I will punch you in the throat.” Not her most diplomatic nor polite resolution, but she really did need to speak with the King and that is the one place she could safely punch.

Much to Pepper’s surprise, the door opened from behind the guard to show a very amused looking King. King Anthony’s warm chocolate eyes were sparkling with mirth, a knowing grin in his face. “Do come in, Lady Potts.” The King nodded to his guard and he moved aside. “I believe there is something you wished to say?”

Pepper blinked, blushed and walked inside the King’s office. “I am sorry,” she said to the guard. “Yes, majesty, it’s about the trade agreement.”

The King nodded, and gently steered her to a chair opposite his in front of his desk. His amusement had not faded, “Yes?”

“I – well,” Pepper squared her shoulders again. “The agreement will be costly for you,” she started. “It offers too many benefits for New Heaven and very few for our kingdom. Plus the taxes, they’re too low for the kind of imports they wish.”

The King’s grin had grown as she spoke. “Well done, Pepper.”

That threw Pepper for a loop, “Your majesty?”

The King leaned forward, hands pressed against his desk, his grin was sharp and held an edge. “Congratulations of spotting the mistakes. You’re the only one who did.”

“Your majesty?”

“Tony, call me Tony, Pepper, I think you’ve earned it. Now I really need to give you a spot in my council.”

Pepper’s eyes widened when she realized what the King had done. A test. “Oh.”

“Oh, indeed Pepper. Now, how about I order us some food and we have a toast, yes? I think you’ve earned my finest vintage for this.”

And Pepper had enjoyed herself immensely with Tony at their impromptu picnic.

Pepper shook her head, returning at the here and the now. She knew that while Tony liked her, there were other suitable ladies that could easily be Queen. Lady Everheart had not been shy about her time with Tony, and it twisted her gut in jealousy. She turned and looked at her gown, a lovely royal blue that brought out her eyes and complimented her hair. It would be no use to weep.

So Pepper rose from her seating and began preparing for the ball. She had come with a lady from home, Maria, and she had helped her with her gown and hair. Pepper donned the sapphire set she had brought from home and looked at herself in the mirror, she was tall and lean, she had been told there was grace to her movements and she only hoped that today of all days, that grace would come in handy.

Squaring her shoulders and raising her chin, Pepper gave herself one last look in the mirror and left for the dinning hall. Once she was there, she looked around in awe, Tony, it seemed had spared no expense. Thousands of candles lit, bouquets and centerpieces of red roses and celandines were everywhere, rich crimson tablecloth and gold china and cutlery sat at the tables, fine crystal goblets and tiny mirrors reflected the light from the candles, sending rainbows everywhere. She took her seat and greeted her fellow table guests.

Pepper looked at the other ladies, all – like her – dressed in the finest gowns and jewels. The King nor Colonel Rhodes had arrived yet, so she waited and made small talk with her companions. Until the sound of trumpets heralded the King’s arrival. Pepper stood, like everyone else in the room and she kept her eyes on Tony while he took his seat at the high table. The spot at his right hand was empty. The spot for the Queen.

Tony, no, the King looked so handsome. Dressed in the rich red and golds that marked his family’s colors, he managed to look both imposing and elegant. Pepper watched as the King came to his place at the center of his table, grabbed a goblet and raised it towards the people.

“My Lords and Ladies,” Tony spoke and everyone in the room waited. “For these past three months, you have been here with me, and I’m sure you all know why, none of you are fools. So, yes. I called you here because I have decided to take a bride from one of you. And I have made my choice.”

Pepper, much like the rest of the hall, was silent. But her stomach felt in knots, she wasn’t sure how she’d be able to eat and dance when the King – Tony, said someone else’s name.

“And so, here is my choice.” Tony looked around, until his eyes fell on Pepper. “The woman I have chosen, is none other of Lady Virginia Potts, of the Duchy of Nouvelle Heaven.”

Silence.

Pepper blinked, then looked around and found herself being stared at. Faces around her showed surprise, envy, resignation and on some, indignation and barely contained fury. She had never been more grateful to be sitting down, but she knew that she must go to Tony – the King. She stood and prayed that her legs wouldn’t fail her. She walked with her head held high to the high table, never taking her eyes of Tony.

Tony was beaming, besides him, Colonel Rhodes gave her an approving nod. So Pepper made her way to the empty chair besides him, taking the offered hand and remaining standing next to Tony. Tony kissed her hand with surprising gentleness, “Your majesty,” was all she could say.

“Your future Queen! Cheers to the Lady Virginia!” Tony had turned to face the crowd once more.

People raised their glasses and toasted, “Cheers! To Lady Virginia!”

Pepper smiled and nodded her head in thanks. It was only then that Tony indicated they should sit, once they did, the food came in and the hall dissolved into quiet murmurs over food. She managed to eat and drink well enough, but the nerves had not left her. And she still wondered, why her? But asking Tony over dinner didn’t seem right, so she waited.

Dinner passed quickly, Pepper had spent it talking with Tony, her fiance now. Hers. She could hardly believe that he was hers and hers alone. And that he had declared so publicly. When the plates were taken away, Tony rose from his seat and nodded, at once, the music started and he turned and offered his hand to her, smiling, she took it.

Tony led her to the dance floor, only they were there. It was tradition that the King would always open the dance, and now, it would be her tradition too. Pepper could feel her heart racing, but she let the music and the warmth of Tony’s eyes and arms wash over her, for a moment, it was just the two of them.

“Why me?” She whispered.

If possible, Tony’s face softened even further. “Because I love you,” he said. “Because I fell in love with you during my visit to your Duchy, but I was foolish, I thought it was simple lust. I didn’t realize it was love until I was back.”

“You love me?”

“I do, Pep. With all my heart.”

“Then why…?”

“All of this? Simply, I had to pretend to consider others. Had I outright asked you, some of the council would’ve protested, some Dukes would have tossed their daughters at me or find every possible fault in you. But this? I meet them all, tested them in one way or another and they know it and they can’t argue with my choice this way.”

“Oh.”

“I can only hope, that you will love me too.”

Pepper could feel a knot in her throat, of course she loved him. Had done so for years, but always afraid of stepping out of bounds, of rejections or worst, being a simple dalliance. “I love you too.” She said, as her vision clouded with tears.

Tony’s smile was radiant. “Well then, Lady Potts, it seems that I am a lucky man. And this kingdom would not ask for a better Queen. I love you. Our story starts today.”

Pepper couldn’t help but return his smile.

[theink-theiron]

Melting Iron

Chapter 1 - A Medival Fantasy Gajevy AU fanfiction

Read Here on AO3 

“I’m sure you’ll be fine Levy; you have nothing to worry about” reassured Princess Dragneel, the motivation however, fell on deaf ears as the bluenette continued to fret over the thought their new arrivals, her eyes unfocused, her heart racing and her mind working a mile a minute trying to figure her way out of the inevitable.

She had no problem meeting new people, sure she was not the most social person in the kingdom, but she could withstand the average amount socialness required to not seem abnormal or rude. It was however a certain group of individuals, that at the mere thought of them had the young lady’s skin crawling and her fight or flight mode kicking into hyperdrive. Scholars, professors, court advisors any job within a kingdom that required a high level of knowledge or education, it was not the position itself that infuriated her but rather the type of people that held these positions. Being a woman had its fair share of challenges as did being small, as did being young, when mixed these three factors create a brilliant target. She had struggled all her life to be taken seriously despite her clear unchallengeable intellect and because of this she could fill a book with all the times she has been unjustifiably belittled, and she fears something similar is going to happen soon.

The day was bright unfitting to her mood as the two ladies strode down the hallways into the entrance hall in preparation to greet their new guests. King Natsu was already stood tall and proud, with guards and servants posted around the hall. All the necessary preparations were already in order, the food was harvested from their thriving farms, and the most luxurious wines bought from the finest vineyards, all put together by Mirajane the lovely head chef and her dedicated team. The palace was scrubbed to withing an inch of its life, and the marble floors glistened and the light from the stained windows giving the palace a magical glow. Everyone was in place as the princess stood at the head of the entrance next to her husband. Levy took her place near them as she was a vital part of what was about to take place.

The giant doors opened and Prince Redfox ‘The Iron Dragon’ emerged, a hulking form of a man, all eyes were drawn to him, his intimidating presence demanding their attention and the room fell deathly silent. He had the eyes of a warrior who had seen a hundred lifetimes, his black steel armour thick and seemingly impenetrable covering him entirely from the neck down as his heavy footsteps echoed throughout the hall. He was quickly followed by several guards and a few servants all impressive in their crisp and tidy uniforms, but that was to be expected, and finally, three old grey gentlemen walking gracefully in their drab and old-fashioned cloaks, by the gods she already bored to death just looking at them.

She could not look away from the fascinating prince as she was entranced by the display. He showed no clear sign of emotion on his face as he marched along to stand at the foot of the Dragneels. A smile graced the royals faces as the formalities began. “Prince Redfox we are pleased to welcome you to the fire kingdom” The king began “I hope you had a safe journey” It was clear to all that knew him that he was trying his best to be formal though it was not something he was suited for or enjoyed, although she can hardly blame him as she felt the same way.

The talked for a small while exchanging pleasantries that neither were that interested in doing, until it was time to depart. “Miss Lisanna would you be kind enough to escort Prince Redfox to his room” It was getting late and the official work would start in the morning. Just before the prince turned to leave his eyes ghosted over Levy, taking in her petite form and colourful dress as she stood out from the crowd with her blue hair and a long flowy orange dress that seemed to sparkle in the sunlight, it was only brief but their eyes met and it felt as if she was holding his stern gaze for an eternity. And just like that he was gone, everyone dispersing and getting back to work as the prince and his entourage were all heading to their rooms and getting prepared for a grand meal that would be hosted later that evening.

Levy released a breath that she did not know she was holding when the room was almost emptied, and the new arrivals were out of sight. Turning to the princess, they smiled at each other and both visibly relaxed. “Well that went rather well I think, don’t you?” Lucy seemed pleased as she should, the next few weeks are going to be particularly important for both parties and a good first impression could make all the difference. “yeas, it was quite successful, I think he’s pleased” Lucy’s eyes lit up at this and a mischievous smile appeared on her face “Oh yes, I would definitely say he was pleased with what he saw” She teased. The two women had been friends since childhood, so this kind of informality was common when no one new was around, newcomers would probably be surprised or appalled at the way a servant would speak to a queen so they kept up formalities in front of quest as to appear professional.

A blush covered the smalls girls face “What are you talking about Lu? You are crazy”

“Please, I saw that little look you two gave to each other” She was trying to contain a squeal as she inched closer to the girl, Levy crossed her arms and shook her head. “That wasn’t anything he was just looking around the room and we made brief eye contact, hardly anything to gush about” Natsu just playfully shook his head at the two of them already knowing what they were like and gently wrapped an arm around his wife’s shoulders and pulling her away muttering something about getting washed up before the banquet, he gave a passing look at Levy and she nodded at him for saving her from her friends incessant interrogation, he really was life saver in more ways than one.

Brushing off those childish remarks, Levy made her way back to library which was basically her second room judging by how much time she spends in there and on more than one occasion accidentally slept there. It was silly teasing and nothing more she assured herself, Lucy did that sort of stuff all the time, even so there was no way a man such as himself, a prince and soon to be king and esteemed warrior would be interested in her and just on look alone no less, she never really considered herself a prize. He wasn’t even her type, most brutish were mean, hard headed and stubborn, who usually wanted nothing more than a simple little wife to sit still and look pretty and birth a healthy heir, and surely prince Redfox was exactly the same, that was not the life for Levy she decided that long ago.

 Later that evening when the moon had risen, a handful servants and butlers arrived and began to serve the food with practiced elegance, everything looked delicious anything you heart or stomach could desire was placed perfectly on the elegantly decorated table, the room was lit with candles creating a wonderfully calming atmosphere, the plates and cutlery adorned with gold, the dining hall was exemplary from ceiling to floor and most certainly fit for a king.

There were few places set at the small table, as this certain dinner was only for the people involved in the plans for the alliance and approaching war, it was meant to make the stay more hospitable and hopefully ease the tension between the royals.

Everyone took their seats Natsu at one end with Lucy by his side, and Prince Redfox at the other with who she expected to be his right-hand man on his right, she heard from Lucy that his his name was Pantherlily. The three ‘ancients’ as she has nicknamed them, sat stiffly together looking as dull as ever, a long blue haired beauty was also there although her role at the moment was unknow, our captain of the guard Erza Scarlet sat opposite me, her eyes were stern as she scanned the room for anything potentially dangerous, she was seriously devoted to her kingdom and her job, she was a lovely woman but she could be truly terrifying when the time called for it, and to her left Jellal Fernandes a brilliantly clever battle tactician and although they never showed any outward affection in public everyone knew they were courting. Levy was a communication expert and all round ‘know it all’ she helped with anything she could usually involving books, scrolls, languages, or even runes and she was damn good at her job despite her young age.

Everyone began tucking into the gigantic feast and the mood lightened as everyone was dazzled by the display of food and put at ease by the abundance of alcohol, light chatter filled the room as people began to become familiar with one another when one of the ancients began to speak up “I am looking forward to this impressive team of scholars that you have spoken so highly of your King Natsu” His words were polite but his tone was dismissive. Thankfully Natsu swallowed the abnormal amount of food in his mouth before he spoke. “You already have” he stated at then motioned towards me with one hand and grabbing more food with the other. The room went silent and all the new arrivals were clearly shocked, it was unusual for a woman to be in such a position so this feeling was hardly new to her, especially the old ones, everyone was looking at her and she began to feel a bit awkward so she did a quick little wave and hoped that would do. “This one woman?” It was not so much of a question as it was an accusation, it was evident that he did not like the fact that I was a woman not many noble men did but he didn’t want to be so open about it and risk damaging a new relationship.

She looked over to the prince to try and get a gage on how he felt about the issue, but she could still tell nothing, his eyes were locked on her but so were everyone else’s. She hoped it would not cause a problem as it had in the past. “Is there a problem with that?” Natsu’s tone was raised slightly. Despite not knowing the king for long he had already grown protective over his wife’s best friend and it was extremely sweet, but she desperately did not want to be the cause of a big scene. “No, no, no your highness, of course, that is not a problem at all” he backed down thankfully, but he shot a nasty glare at Levy before averting his gaze that no one seemed to notice, or so she though, so things slowly began to settle down again.

The prince stayed quite throughout the majority of the meal but their eyes met every so often, she was beginning to worry that he would think that she was weird, so she took to chatting to the fellow bluenette on her left. She was a shy lady, but they seemed to get on quite well and she did not know who this Gray man was but the way she described him made him sound like a god.

Deserts came and went and Erza nearly stabbed the king she swore an oath to protect for trying to take the last of the strawberry cake. All were merry and having a good time just as Cana promised, why we trusted her to choose the alcohol was beyond her as even she was beginning to fell a bit tipsy from the two small drinks she had. As the evening progressed people began to filter out of the room until it was just her and the prince who still seemed unaffected despite the large amount of alcohol he consumed, not that she was watching or anything mind you.

You could taste the awkwardness in the air, as she took another sip of her drink successfully finishing it, and in her mind planning on a quick yet courteous exit. But just as she was about to get up to leave, he grabbed a somehow unopened bottle of whiskey names ‘Los demonios beben’ also known as ‘The Devils Drink’ no wonder it was untouched nobody would dare at an event like this, it was most likely Cana’s work that it was even got here. “Would you care to have a drink with me?” He asked but he was already poring it into his small glass and was moving to grab hers. “I am not sure if I should” She was a little bit of light weight but did not want to admit it. “Why? Can’t you handle it?” There was a small glint in his eyes and a slight smirk on his lips as he challenged her, fine if that’s the game he wanted to play, she would bite. “That’s rich coming from you, a man who’s basically swaying on his chair” It was subtle, but she was observant and just managed to pick up on it.

She was a bit taken back from her own response as her mind stopped working, she had just insulted the fearsome prince! just as her mind started whirling trying to put an apology together he let out an odd little gihi as he placed her drink back in front of her. It was far too strong for her taste but there was no way she would let him know that, after her first small sip she glanced back at him to see he had already finished, his cockiness all over his face, that smug bastard. Now determined she gulped her drink down as fast as she could without spilling and then snatched up the bottle and pored herself another. What had gotten into her? This was not like her, plus this was an especially important mission she could not embarrass herself like this in front of a prince. But it seemed it had the opposite effect as he looked rather impressed. But of course, he had to one up her by taking a large swig straight from the bottle, and as to not fall behind so did she.

Before she knew it, the bottle was empty, and she realised they were entering dangerous territory as his predatory eyes raked over her. “Well I have had a very nice evening, but it is time I turn in for the night” she said standing and giving light bow and hoping it didn’t look like she was stumbling, luckily she didn’t slur her words too much or at least she didn’t think she did. His dazzling smile only wavered for a second before he too stood up and starched out his hand “You’ve been a worthy adversary, but I’m sorry you lost” Ever the diplomat she grasped his hand in a solid handshake and returned his light hearted banter “please I let you win, goodnight Prince Redfox” And with that she left.

On her way to her bedchambers she passed by Mirajane and Lisanna who both smiled at her and nodded she prayed they didn’t realise she and the prince were the last ones out or she would never hear the end of it from any of the girls and that’s really not what she needed right now.

[catyo90]

Unseen: Thranduil x Reader (Lover)

Requested by @anilynsworld

On this special day in the woodland realm, you found yourself in the halls of the palace preparing for the Feast of Starlight. Every light in the sky would shine at the highest point and reveal the forest in all its beauty. You had heard of such beauty on in stories but now you would see it with your own eyes. You quickly got helped around in the kitchens bringing out multiple trays of elvish food and drink. You looked up to see the giant circular skylight above you as clean as could be for tonight's festivities. As you helped the other maidens with the preparations you smiled as your eyes got a glance at King Thranduil. Both of you had secretly been seeing each other and been keeping your relationship secret, at least for now. Both of you felt the time to reveal this to the public was not right, not until you both felt ready. He saw you and the group of maidens and walked over to all of you. Every one of them bowed their heads as you followed suit 

“A perfect arrangement, please continue.”

He said as his gazed stayed stuck to you until he turned his gaze to the entrance. You saw Legolas and Tauriel enter the higher floor clearly just returning from a patrol on the borders of the forest. You smiled as you saw Tauriel gawk at the decorations and the food but soon brought her attention back to Thranduil who asked her and Legolas to join him to the Throne room. He raised his robes a bit as the two of them followed, you smiled and waved goodbye to Tauriel, you were glad she was the only who knew about the two of you. You brought your attention back to the work at hand as you brought a few more bottles of wine to the table, as you did you overheard some of the maidens talking.

“Did you see him look at us, perhaps he is thinking of taking another wife.”

“Your insane to think that. He loved his wife. It’s hard to imagine him with anyone else, especially us.”

“Still I would accept it, its better than anything we have now.”

You sighed as their remarks slowly entered your mind leaving a small trail of doubt within you. Why was he secretly with her, she knew they both weren’t ready to say but what if it was for another reason entirely. She shook her head as she spoke to herself. 

“No, he wouldn’t do that. Right?”

-

Once the Night enveloped the land you hurried to change into a more appropriate dress, the best one you had was a dark blue robe with silver trim and the other maidens wore similar ones but their attention was on their king as he joined everyone holding a glass of the finest wine, his robes were a mixture of black and red with no crown upon his head with his piercing blue eyes seeking you out of the crowd before him, once his saw you, he smiled and brought the glass in his hand to make a toast.

“To the Valar and the Blessed Light.”

Everyone cheered as they brought their drinks high in the air with his and soon the celebration became too much for you to handle as some of the other male elves gathered around you and the other maidens, either asking to dance or drink with them. After dismissing all of them you found yourself being watched by many bachelors and even some of the maidens urging you to enjoy yourself with one of them. You couldn’t think with all of the eyes on you and suddenly you felt yourself being pulled away from the party toward the lower chambers near a small opened area with the skylight still seeable. You looked up to see Thranduil holding you close and saw the others look around as if they just saw you disappear without a trance. Your heart was beating faster than ever as you held him close.

“How...How did you do that.”

You whispered as you gazed at Thranduil with the most perplexed look.

“My magic far surpasses them in more ways than one.”

You laughed a bit as you felt his hand on your cheek as his thumb rubbed your cheek, giving you a sense of comfort in you as you wrapped your arms around him. You heard the commotion upstairs in gasps and awes and for a moment that they had seen both of you until you saw them all looking up to see a shower of comets in the sky passing by with every start shining brighter than any light seen before.

“My Y/n...By the Valar, I missed your skin under my touch.”

You turned your ttention away from the esky to feel him bring his lips to yours in a much more a passionate kiss than you had expected. You felt your skin grow warmer with each second as you felt his embrace around you tighten in a more accepting way. You felt both of you separate to take a breath but quickly you kissed him back embracing him as the feel of his lips on you made your whole body shake. You felt him bring his lips to your neck as he brought a gentle hand to your hair to give him more access as you whispered to him.

“We...we shouldn’t. Someone w..will see us.”

“No one is keeping you away from me.”

You sighed in bliss as you felt his touch surround your entire body as he started to kiss your lips once more, you brought your hands to his robes gently rubbing your hands against his chest feeling every movement in his body aimed toward keeping you in complete ecstasy. A sudden sound of a footstep nearby stopped both of you as you quickly covered Thranduil to see Tauriel nearby.

“AhH. Forgive me, my Lord but the scouts have brought a company of dwarves. One of them is Thorin Oakenshield.”

He adjusted himself as he nodded to her and sighed at the moment being ruined. He brought his gaze to your to see you holding his hand quite tight. He gave a faint smile as he brought his lips to for forehead bringing a butterfly kiis to you as he whispered.

“Come to my chambers tonight. I’ll make sure you receive a fair reward.”

He said giving you one last passionate kiss before following Tauriel. You sighed as you watched him leave and bring a hand to your lips, still feeling the graze of his lips on yours. You looked up at the starlight to see a beautiful star in the center shining on you like as you felt your heartbeat quicken at the thought of what would happen that night.