#i am going to a wedding later so of course i had to draw Them

[todayisafridaynight]

and why does the office worker stay after hours so late anyway huh

[holdmytesseract]

moodboard by @mochie85 divider by @fictive-sl0th <3

Summary: It's been a long time coming... But now the day for you and Loki to say 'Yes' and enter the bond of marriage has finally arrived. A covenant for eternity.

Chapter One - Of Cakes and Dances

Warnings for this Chapter: fluff, bit of suggestive smut

Word Count: 2,6k

a/n: We officially start our road to the wedding, guys! 🥳 In this chapter we have some cake tasting and dancing. Enjoy! 🤗

A huge shoutout goes out in this chapter to @chennqingg ! She crafted the beautiful wedding invitation! Thank you so, so much, my friend! 💚

💍 Chapter Zero °☆• Chapter Two 💍

Baby Fever Masterlist °☆• A Covenant for Eternity Masterlist (coming soon!)

A rather loud knock against the main door of Loki's (and now as well yours) apartment echoed through the hallway and rooms; even reaching you in the bathroom.

Not that this was a problem so 'early' in the morning - well, not usually, but today was Saturday and both you and Loki had your 'day off'. Given that fact, your fiancé was still sound asleep and you, well... You had just stepped out of the shower mere minutes ago.

"Gimme one minute, pwease!" You called out of the door frame; tooth brush in mouth.

After quickly getting dressed and at least halfway ready, you jogged towards the door; opening it slightly out of breath.

"Morning, babes!"

Natasha was standing in front of it; big smile on her face and a small sized parcel in her hand.

She immediately noticed your laboured breath and flushed face, of course - and Nat being Nat, she couldn't let this just pass.

"Had to dismount your princely stud first?" Your best friend asked boldy; throwing you a dirty smile and wink.

You blinked.

"What? I- No! Nat!" Once your brain had caught up you immediately 'defended' yourself; gently slapping her shoulder while laughing. "You and your dirty mind! Geez, I was just having a shower and about to get ready for the day. You were the one interrupting me and forcing me to hurry, babes! Besides is my..." You lifted your hands to draw quotation marks into the air, in order to quote Nat. "... princely stud still asleep."

The widow had done nothing but smirk and giggle while you had explained 'the situation'.

Now she shrugged her shoulders. "We both know it could've been both." "Oh shut up!" You giggled and then proceeded to hug her. Only halfway unfortunately, because the little parcel was kind of in the way.

"What have you got here?" You asked then; nodding at said rectangular carton box. "The reason why I am here." Your best friend smiled. "I was just returning from a run, when the postman delivered this for you - and I may have a guess what it is..."

The gears in your head were turning, until realisation hit you; eyes widening.

"The wedding invitations!" Natasha nodded. "Yup! I mean, it's about time they arrive. We've only got three months left..."

Three months... Three... Natasha was right. Only 85 days left until you were going to marry the love of your life.

"By the Norns... How did the year go by so quick? I could swear Loki just proposed to me and now we are already getting married?" Your best friend giggled, "Well, like I already said... It was about time for Loki to get that ring." and handed you the parcel. "If you need help with these... You know where to find me." The widow gave you a wink, then turned to leave. "I'll see you!"

You smiled. "Bye! And thanks, babes!"

Later that Saturday - after you finished your business in the bathroom and Loki had made it to leave the bed as well, the both of you took a look inside the parcel together. Until now, you had just seen a rough blueprint of the invitations and not the originals. Excitedly, you opened up the package - and couldn't believe your eyes. They were absolutely stunning. Beyond your expectations. "Baby, look at that..." You carefully took one in your hands. Loki just chuckled, "I am looking, darling." and leaned over to press a kiss against your temple. "I love them!" You stated; eyes still clued to the green and golden card.

The god nodded approvingly. "Indeed. They are beautifully crafted. More than fit for an invitation to a royal wedding."

You giggled. "Yeah? Are they fulfilling the princely expectations?" Loki gently squeezed your side. "Of course, love." "Shall we send them out then? It's time, isn't it?" He smiled at you; blue eyes shining with love and anticipation. "I'd be more than happy to do so."

You and Loki spent the rest of the day with folding the invitations, putting them inside an envelope, labelled said envelopes and of course send them out. Some of them were handed over personally and some reached their receiver with a little help of seidr.

Sending out invitations wasn't the only thing you and Loki had to still 'get done' for the wedding. Oh no... Two big things were still scribbled on the 'to-do' list - of which one was to practise your wedding dance.

You and Loki had already chosen the songs and a 'choreography' was made. The only thing what you still had to do now, was practising. Your soon-to-be husband hadn't really a problem - given the fact that he was a prince. He learned how to dance in his youth.

As for you... Well... You struggled a little bit, but you were confident. Plus, you had the best teacher...

"No, my love," the god spoke through the music with a chuckle; shaking his head. A snap of his finger later, the song stopped. "You..." He adjusted your arm around his shoulder gently. "...have to keep your arm like that. Unless I won't be able to lift you properly." You sighed. "Sorry, babe. Asgardian dancing isn't my cup of tea, I'm afraid." Once more Loki shook his head; the man bun keeping his curls from tickling your arm. "No, don't say that. You never danced like this before - of course you need more time and practice." "Yeah, but... We already practised this about ten times..."

Loki chuckled. "Yes and you're doing wonderfully. Do you wish to know how long it took me to learn all this?" You just nodded. "Over a year." That left you speechless. "Exactly. Now come on." Loki got into position. "Let's do it again." You agreed; getting into position as well. "At least I can waltz and we have to practice part two of our dance not remotely as much..." "You say that as if it meant nothing, darling. I'd be so bold and say that not every Midgardian woman can waltz." "Yes, but-" "Ah.Ah," Loki tutted; interrupting you. "No buts. You are my dancing queen." His words left you blushing, and before you were able to say something, he 'switched on' the music again.

You quickly tried to focus; recalling the dance steps you had learned already - and it worked. It really worked. You smiled as you moved with Loki over the rich marble floor in one of the dance halls in Asgard.

Practising in Asgard? Yes. Why? Loki insisted, since one: The actual dance would take place here as well, so it was better for the practice and two: Because the professional dance lessons (if you would choose to take some) were for free. Plus, nearly every Asgardian was a literal dance professional...

Since you (and Loki) wanted to keep things even and make a mix of an Asgardian and Midgardian wedding, the dance consisted of two components. You'd start with the Asgardian part and then switch over to the Midgardian. Two realms, two songs - and actually two dances. The waltz was no problem for you, but the Asgardian dance style was...

With the ending of the last tunes of the beautiful musical piece, you and Loki took your 'final position' as well. Your right arm draped over his shoulder; hand resting on the nape of his neck. His right arm was in the exact same position. Your forehead was leaned against his; skin on skin and eye to eye.

The god smiled, "Well done, love." and broke the position to catch your lips in a small, gentle kiss. "See? You did it." "Almost," you corrected him, but couldn't help but smile as well. Loki rolled his eyes - still with that smirk on his face, "We'll get to it, I promise." and took a step back. "Let's start again."

Loki distanced himself from you and got into position, with his hands crossed behind his back. Then he snapped and the song started from the beginning. The both of you started to walk towards each other graciously. Once you were an arm length away from your soon-to-be husband, you curtsied. Just like Loki took a bow. In rhythm with the music, your right palm found his left palm; forearm to forearm and other hand neatly resting on yours and Loki's back - and so you started to dance.

Loki slipped into a fresh t-shirt, while he made his way towards the bathroom. Knocking gently, he called out your name; gaining your attention.

"Love? Are you ready? We have to go in about ten minutes. Unless we'll be late."

Loki's 'wake-up call' caused your eyes to widen slightly. You may or may not have forgotten the time a little bit while showering... "I'm on my way, babe!" You quickly hopped out of the shower and into a fresh pair of underwear, before blow-drying your hair - at least a little bit (It was late summer, so actually not a big problem since it was pleasantly warm outside.), and got dressed in your baby blue summer dress.

Once you left the bathroom, your fiancé was already waiting for you; leaning against the wall with the car keys in hand.

"Are we ready?" You smiled and stepped up to him; winding your arms around his neck. "Eager to go?" The god chuckled. "It's about cake, darling. Of course I am eager."

You giggled and pecked his lips. "Let me just grab my purse and then we can leave." Loki nodded; watching you walk past him.

The two of you had an appointment today at the best pâtisserie in down town New York City in order to do a cake tasting. It was about the wedding cake, of course and you both agreed that it would be best to try some things first, before you'd decide about the interiority of the three-tier wedding cake. The design and decoration was already set and arranged with the pâtisserie. Now you and Loki had to do the 'fun' part... Tasting different fillings and flavours.

Your destination was a twenty minute car ride away from the Avengers compound. Give or take.

Luckily the traffic was not a complete chaos, so you made it to arrive in time.

The pâtisserie was bustling with people - of course. After all, it was the best in down town; yes, probably in whole New York City.

With your hand snugly wrapped up in Loki's bigger hand, you waited patiently in line until it was your turn. "Hi, we have an appointment for a wedding cake tasting," you explained to the friendly looking young man behind the counter. His eyes widened when he looked at you and Loki; recognising the both of you for sure. "Oh, uh, yes, give me a second, please..." He said nervously, looked down and seemed to search for something, until- "Ah, yes. Please follow me." You nodded with a smile. The young man's cheeks reddened and he smile bashfully back at you.

You and Loki followed him then to a little back room with two doors, a small grey sofa, white counter and some bar stools. The wall was painted in a beautiful shade of pastel orange and a few art pictures hung here and there. It looked quite neat and cosy.

"Have a seat, please." The man gestured towards the sofa. "Riley will be with you in a minute." You smiled, "Thank you." while your fiancé gave him a nod. Once more the young guy smiled shyly and fumbled nervously with his fingers. "It's an honour to have you here, Ms. Y/L/N and Mr. Laufeyson."

For the first time since you entered the pâtisserie, Loki spoke up; leapfrogging you. "Well, it's a pleasure to be here." You silently agreed with the god; who still held your hand in a snug grip and made sure you were standing close to him.

Even though you were about to be married, he still showed the people who you belonged to. Guess some things never change, you thought with a smile; looking at your engulfed hand. You didn't care, though. Quite the opposite... Loki's slight possessiveness was attractive and admittedly sexy in your eyes.

The man opposite you blushed in a dark shade of red, "That's great to hear." before shuffling his feet. He was on the verge of leaving the room, but before he did, he turned around to face you and Loki once again; seemed now to have scratched all his bravery together and ask: "I-I know this is p-probably inappropriate to ask, b-but may I get an autograph l-later?"

You smiled brightly. The guy was kinda cute, you couldn't deny that. "Of course. Just hit us up before we leave again."

The young man's eyes twinkled with happiness - and relief. "T-Thank you." Then he left the little room and you and Loki alone.

About five minutes later, the other door at the side wall opened and in came a woman in 'workwear', bright pink hair, glasses and quite a few piercings.

You and Loki were sitting on the sofa - like instructed; hands still intertwined and resting in your lap. Your free hand was on Loki's thigh, close to his knee. When you saw the woman, you both stood up.

"Hi there!" She said in a happy, enthusiastic tone and crossed the distance to meet you and shake your hands. "I'm Riley, we talked on the phone. Nice to meet you." You shook her hand, smiling. "Y/N and Loki." The friendly woman winked, "I know." shook Loki's hand as well and gestured for the counter with the bar stools. "Shall we move over?" "Sure." You and the god followed her. She went behind the counter and you both got comfortable on the stools.

"Alright!" Riley drummed her fingertips slightly on the wooden surface; smiling. "We already talked about your wedding cake in general a few months back. All that's missing are the fillings - and that's why you're here today. I prefer to do that in terms of a tasting, because it guarantees that the cake is really after your taste. But, before we do that I have to ask if you'd like to make any last minute changes, regarding the style or decoration of the cake?"

You and your fiancé exchanged a look and simultaneously shook your heads. "No, it's perfect the way it is."

Riley clapped her hands. "Alright. I'll go, fetch the things we need and then we can start, yes?" "Perfect, thank you."

Just a few minutes later, she returned with a big tray full of small, round cakes. They were neatly arranged and, of course, labelled. Riley put the tray down on the counter in front of you and Loki. Your eyes roamed over the different cakes with their different fillings and you just couldn't wait to taste them.

"Okay," started Riley with a smile. "I put together a wide range of different stuff and flavours. We've got some classics like vanilla, chocolate and strawberry, but also a few special - some might say exotic flavours like mango, melon and matcha, and of course some which are refined with alcohol and coffee."

"Start which whatever you like." That was a sentence you and Loki didn't let yourself tell twice. You dived right in, always splitting the tiny cake in half and tasted the delicious treats.

Both, you and your soon-to-be husband didn't think that deciding on three different flavours for your wedding cake was that difficult - but by the Norns, it was. Almost everything just tasted absolutely wonderful and exactly that was the problem - and that you and Loki had different favourites...

"Okay, okay..." You said, taking a deep breath. "Compromise, babe. You decide on the top cake, I get the bottom one and we choose the middle together?" The god nodded; giving you a smile. "Agreed."

In the end, Loki chose chocolate-mint, you mango-maracuya and together you decided on something with a little kick - Baileys. Three completely different flavours, hopefully one for everybodys taste.

Here's the beautiful invitation @chennqingg designed!

Tags: @muddyorbsblr @mochie85 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @jaidenhawke @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @multifandom-worlds @jennyggggrrr @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @fictive-sl0th @herdetectivetheorist @hisredheadedgoddess28 @chennqingg @princess-ofthe-pages @km-ffluv @brokenpoetliz @huntedmusicgardenn @lokiforever @stupidthoughtsinwriting @loz-3 @jaguarthecat @icytrickster17 @eleniblue @yourfriendlyslytherinhc @mypainischronicbutmyassisiconic @kimanne723 @lou12346789 @smolvenger @lokisrealpurpous @isaidoop @lokisgoodgirl @aagn360 @cakesandtom @alexakeyloveloki @glitchquake (Continuing in the comments!)

[imtryingbuck]

Epilogue

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Summary: Y/n L/n becomes Queen of Astoria not that she wanted to. Prince James of Winterfeld meets her and falls in love.

Word count: 6,142

Warnings: angst. fluff. swearing. mentions of being sick. mentions of being barren. y/n’s father. mentions of wishing for a baby to die (in flashback). hitting of a teenager. panic attack. 

Masterlist   Series Masterlist

"Go and fetch Queen Y/n, quickly!"

The young servant bows before her King before making a bee line out of the chambers and down the corridors, not even apologising to the other servants or knights she bumps in to along the way. She doesn't want to disappoint her King so saying a simple 'sorry' will have to be saved until later.

The young girl knows exactly where to find the Queen and pushes her legs to keep carrying her small frame, ignoring the burning pain she feels in her lungs.

The sun shined in the sky on the hottest day of the year, the chatter of the townsfolk ring out in the air as they move around through the market - each person paying no mind to the servant as she continues running towards the woods.

"Are you ready to admit your defeat?" A familiar soft yet harsh voice hits the girls ears.

"Never!"

"Ah, very well. I must kill you now" Just as the sword is raised in the air the servant calls for the Queen.

"Yes?"

"The King, he said it is urgent."

Six months after Y/n and Bucky married Carlson kept lingering around the council table, his eyes looking at her before dropping to his hands, his mouth opening and closing before any word could escape him.

Sighing she looked up from the papers in front of her and looked at her best friend. “What?”

“Huh? Oh nothing.”

“Carls you have been pacing around for the last hour looking like you want to say something, so… out with it.”

“I-I…” huffing and dropping down in one of the empty seats, Y/n winces as Carlson’s head bangs on the table, he mumbles something.

“What was that?”

“I wish to marry Larissa.”

“Then marry her.”

“D-Do I have your permission?”

“You are both my friends, all I wish is for you two to be happy.” She smiled at him.

“But I am your best friend, right?”

“Of course, no need to get territorial.” They both burst out laughing. “Do it under the willow tree.”

“Why there?”

“I may have been telling stories but I noticed the way you stared at her. I think it would be sweet.”

“When should I do it?”

“Now if you have a ring?”

“I have my mother’s.”

At the mention of his mum they smiled sadly at each other, a fever took her away from him and his dad when he was only eight years old. Y/n remembers holding him in her arms as he drenched her dress with his tears as his mum took her last breath, she remembers holding his hand as the coffin went into the ground. For months Carlson didn’t smile despite her attempts at making him crack one, Carl was no better.

“They would have loved Larissa.”

“Do you think?”

“I know they would. Go and I will have someone fetch her.”

Carlson smiles widely and jumps up out of his seat, pressing a quick kiss to her temple he runs out of the room. Y/n made her way to the room where her sisters, mum and Larissa were doing their needlework and asked for Larissa to follow her, leading her friend arm in arm outside she walked her towards the willow tree, smiling and nodding in encouragement as she let go of Larissa’s arm. Watching her best friend get down on one knee had a smile on her lips which only widened when Larissa nods with a huge smile.

Three weeks later Y/n walked Larissa down the aisle to where Carlson was waiting, as the celebration began to draw to a close it was the same on her own wedding night where an argument was made with the maester who wanted to be in the room, but this time it wasn’t Bucky but Y/n arguing with them. The argument didn’t last long of course.

A few days after the wedding of her two friends Y/n squinted her eyes at seeing Annalise floating by the open door of the private family garden.

“What are you doing Anna?”

“Oh! Sister I did not see you there.” She says coming outside, a sweet smile on her lips.

“No of course you did not. What do you want?”

“I do not want anything.”

“No? Right, well come and sit with me.”

The two sisters - the oldest and the youngest out of the children shared from the same parents - sat in silence watching as the birds flew overhead in the sky. That was until Anna broke it.

“C-can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“What is marriage like?”

“I assume it is different for everyone.” Y/n starts, but she knows that’s not what her sister is asking. “For me I was lucky to marry a man I love, it is beautiful, though I do admit I am not fond of him being able to see me as I am.”

Annalise frowns and cocks her head to the side. “How do you mean?”

“He sees me as Y/n, not the queen, not the warrior, just me. But in a way I like it, you know?”

“I do.” A small smile tugs at her lips before dropping quickly. “Florence will be wedded soon to that prince.”

“She will be.”

“Is she scared?”

“I do not think so, they have spent so much time together and I believe there are feelings for one another, why are you asking me this?”

“I… I wish to be lucky like you, sister. I wish to marry for love.”

Taking her younger sisters hand in hers, she looks in her eyes and sees her younger self staring back at her. “Liam, am I right?”

“H-how did you know?”

“I am not blind, I see the way you both look at each other.” Pushing back a strand of her hair and tucking it behind her ear. “Also you do not like horses.”

The two sisters start laughing, Anna nodding in agreement to her oldest sisters comment. “If- if he asked…”

“If Liam asks for your hand then I will grant it.”

“And you are not mad? That he is a stable boy and not a prince?”

“All I have ever wanted for my sisters is to be happy, if a stable boy makes you happy then so am I.”

“Thank you! Thank you!” Anna wraps her arms around her sister and pulls her close, snuggling into Y/n’s warmth when she feels her sisters arms around her.

Later that day Annalise and Liam came into the throne room where Y/n was talking to Bucky as he sat next to her, Liam got down on one knee and bows and asks his queen permission to marry her sister, the longer he was down on one knee the more he got nervous as she didn’t say anything. Only letting go of the breath he was holding when she smiles and says another wedding will be taking place. Not even two weeks later Bucky walked Annalise down the aisle - Y/n had to stifle her laughter at seeing the proud look on her husbands face as he walked his sister-in-law towards her soon to be husband.

“Are you sure?”

“I am, my Grace.”

“Do your checks again because I think you are wrong.”

“M-my Queen this is the fourth time we have checked. You are with child.” The maester smiled.

“Oh.”

“I think you are three months along, my Grace.”

“Right. Right, okay, thank you, you may leave now and do not speak a word of this please.”

The two maesters shared a look between each other, it wasn’t the reaction they were expecting when they told her that she was with child, but smiled at her and promised that they wouldn’t speak a word of it, they left quickly once she dismissed them.

Her hand went to her stomach and frowned at feeling the small bump, how she didn’t notice it before was lost on her, she felt sick as she eyed up the small bump in the mirror - her mum told her that her father was lying about her barren and now according to the maesters she was three months along. Sitting down on the chair she tried to breathe, she closed her eyes.

*flashback*

Y/n forces herself not to wince as she tries to sit on the wooden chair at the dinner table knowing that her father was watching, even with the pain shooting through her body she refused to show her father any weakness.

Dinner was eaten in silence - even her youngest sister who normally liked to talk with her mouth full of half chewed food, kept quiet. It wasn’t until food was gone and the plates were cleared by the servants that the king decided to speak.

“King George wrote to me, wanted to talk about marrying his son to my oldest daughter.” He looked over at Y/n smirking at seeing her dig her nails into the arm of the chair. “But I wrote back to him to say that she was not able to marry.”

Y/n, her mum and stepmother in unison let go of the breath they were holding, the thank you dying on her mums tongue as her husband continued. “I told him that it was unfair to marry his son to my barren daughter.”

“What? How could you say that about our daughter?” Her mum shouted, her eyes going back and forth between her husband and daughter, noticing the stare off they were having.

“It is true. No Gods would allow her to be a mother.”

“You cannot say something like that, she is a child!”

“She is barren!” Her sisters flinch and let out cries as he screams, slamming his hand on the table. “She is a barren useless bitch!”

Nobody dared to say anything or move, the only sound in the hall was her two youngest sisters crying quietly not understanding why their father was angry. Her mum was staring at her in hopes to catch her eyes to silently tell her to back down but Y/n’s eyes were on her father. Though she was thirteen years old she knew what barren meant, she knew that it meant that she would never be able to have children and at thirteen she didn’t care, she already had to help with her younger sisters - she remembers when each of them were born and couldn’t understand why everyone kept saying they were cute… because to her they weren’t, she had witnessed her mum and stepmother give birth and the thought of going through the pain that they were going through wasn’t something that was pleasing to her.

Her mums heart dropped when her oldest daughter, her starlight, start laughing.

“Are you scared that I would have what you could not?”

“And what is that?”

“Sons.”

Her grin only grows when she sees the twitch in her father’s cheek. “I am your father!”

“Unfortunately.”

“I am the king!” He once again shouts. “You will show me respect!”

Pushing her chair away from the table, holding the wince that tries to make an appearance, she leans on the table. “I will do no such thing.”

As she walks away from the hall she can hear her father screaming for her to stop, not even flinching when a cup flies past her and smashes against the wall.

*present*

Y/n stood up way too fast which caused her head to go light as she rushed over to the bowl, she had only managed to get down on her knees before her breakfast came up. Groaning once she was finished, she sat against the wall - not even flinching when her head banged against the stone - closing her eyes she went into another memory.

*flashback*

All she wanted to do was train with Carlson but the men in the ring wouldn’t let her, Carlson was fine as he was a boy but because she was a girl she wasn’t allowed.

“I can fight!”

“You are a weak little girl. You cannot.”

“I am not weak!” They all laughed at her. It probably didn’t help that she was stomping her foot. “Please let me fight.”

“No-“

“Wait, is this the barren princess?” One of the men asked, eyeing her up and down.

“Yes this is her.”

“I am not barren.” She mumbled as she shifted under the intense gaze of the men.

“Let her fight with us. If the barren princess wants to fight who are we to protest.”

“Not barren but thank you.”

It had been a year since the dinner disaster as her stepmother calls it, the servants were quick to tell others what they had heard which meant that the whole kingdom had heard what her father had called her. She had grown use to the pity looks from the people, she had grown use to the failed attempts of whispers of how her womb that would remain empty for the rest of her days when she would walk by, she had gotten use to pretending that it didn’t affect her when in reality Carlson had held her in his arms more times than he could count as she cried about her being a failure as a woman with him being always quick to tell her that she wasn’t a failure.

Her first time in the ring the men were arguing with one another about who was going to be the first one to fight the barren princess. None of them went easy on her. Every time she went down Carlson flinched and silently begged for her to stay down, rolling his eyes when she didn’t.

“Stay down barren princess.” The large man panted. Though he had to admit he admired her bravery… or stupidity.

“I am not barren!” She growled, spitting out the blood from her mouth, she stood up and charged at him.

Her sword clashed with his and for the first time since she had gone into the ring she was getting the upper hand, the men began cheering her on with Carlson screaming the loudest. Her opponent chuckles himself as her face morphed into confusion as she manages to get him down on the ground.

Holding his hands in surrender he smiled at her. “You have bested me, my barren princess.”

“I am not barren.” Slamming her sword into the ground right next to his head, she leans down closer to him. “I am not the barren princess. Do you understand.”

“That you are not.” He chuckles, standing up he picks her up and places her onto his shoulder. “All hail the warrior princess!”

*present*

Looking around the room she tried getting her heart rate down, before she chuckled at the memory of the servant going pale at seeing the bruises that covered the majority of her little body that she got from training with the skilled warriors of Astoria.

As she placed her hand on her stomach there was a knock at the door.

*flashback*

The adrenaline was still pumping through her as she jumped on her bed - she, Carlson, her father and his army had just come back home victorious from the battle, though her thigh hurt from where the enemy had sliced her she kept jumping on the large bed.

A knock on her door had her stop bouncing before she could tell the person to enter the door opened, her shoulders instantly slumping and that once happy feeling she had faded away as she made eye contact with her father.

“Get down.” Huffing she does as he says and gets down from the bed. “Now sit.”

“I am not a dog.”

“Just sit.” She sat knowing that if she just complied with him he would leave quickly. “What was you thinking?”

“What do you mean?”

“Sneaking into line with my men! It was reckless, you could have…” Closing his eyes he blew a breath before turning his back on her. “You are not a trained fighter.”

“I want to fight and you have to admit father I was doing well.”

“You could have died! How stupid can you be?” He yelled, then began pacing up and down in her room.

She sat there staring at her father, hope blossoming in her heart at his words. “Would… would you have cared?” She whispered.

“What?”

“Would you have cared if I did die?”

That hope she had forming in her heart died the second the words came out of his mouth. “No. But your mother would.”

“Why do you hate me?”

“What are you talking about?”

Standing up she made her way over to her father and stood in front of him. “Why do you hate me?”

“I do not.”

“No?”

“No.”

“And yet you say that you would not have cared if I died on the battle field.” He tries to walk away but she grabs him by his arm, her hand trembling slightly when he looks down at her hand in complete disgust. “All I have ever wanted was for you to love me but yet you have had me beaten, belittled and casted aside, an- and I do not understand why.”

“What do you want from me?”

“Anything! Tell me what I did so terrible to you. Tell me how I can make you love me as you love my sisters. Anything, father, please.”

Ripping her hand off of him harsher than he expected which caused her to stumble backwards. “You are not the child I wanted!” He shouted. “The second you were born I wished you died before you took your first breath! You were not the boy I wanted.”

Lowering her head she fought with herself not to cry right there and then in front of him. “I-I am sorry.”

“Sorry? Sixteen years too late.” He replied coldly.

Still she tried to gain back her love for him after three years of feeling nothing for him, he was her father after all. “I can fight in your army, I proved that to you. I can prove myself to you.”

“No!” Once again he shouts, she silently wonders how his throat wasn’t hurting yet. “You are useless to me.”

“Why do you not kill me then? Do it now, no one would question you, mother will get over it-“. Her words get cut off by her father’s hand smacking her across her face.

“I could do that, yes, but what kind of father would I be by doing that?”

“Y-you… I do not understand. You hate me that much is true, you torment me, you-you hurt me and yet you are too much of a coward to kill your own daughter that is useless to you. It does not make sense.”

“Do you know how many kings, nobles, hells even common men, have offered me an alliance due to me having a daughter who is barren?”

Her nose flares at that word, having grown to detest it, she clenched her fist by her sides. “Ah, so they pity you.”

Before she could realise what was happening her father’s hand came into contact with her face once more, knocking her off balance causing her to bang her head against the table.

*present*

“Y/n! Sweetheart, please come back to me.”

“B-Bucky?”

When she came back the present she noticed Bucky and Carlson kneeling in front of her, she was backed into a corner with her knees pulled up to her chest, her whole body was trembling with sweat dripping down her face. Her eyes shifting between her husband and best friend as her grip tightened on her dress.

“Y/n/n, it is alright, you are safe I promise you.”

“C-Carls-“.

“I swear to you that everything is fine. You are with me and Bucky, look.”

Looking at Bucky she frowns at seeing the heartbroken expression on his face. “I-“ Taking a deep breath, once, twice. “I am fine. I am fine.”

“You gave us quite the scare, my love.”

“I am sorry. I did not mean to.”

“Y/n, what happened?” Carlson asked as he smoothed out her hair, his heart aching at seeing his best friend in this position again.

“N-nothing. I am fine.”

“Do not lie to me.”

“I- it was just a memory, that is all.” She tried to smile though it came out as a grimace. “Why are you here?”

“Your guard heard you in distress so one came and got us.”

“Right.” With the help of the two men she stood up, smoothing her dress out she tried to remember what she was doing before she allowed the memories to take over. As she moved around the room she could feel the two sets of eyes on her, looking over her shoulder at them she gave them a questioning look. “What?”

“Please tell us what happened.” Bucky begged.

“I- I was told something and I do not know what happened, it felt so real. I was a child again.” Shaking her head she sighed. “It does not matter.”

“What was you told?” Carlson asked, he couldn’t understand it himself why his eyes trailed to her stomach, only widening when she nods slowly.

Bucky noticed the look of pure joy on his friends face, frowning when the two best friends were having a silent conversation that he had no idea what it was about. “Either one of you want to let me in on this conversation?”

Y/n walks slowly over to him and takes his hands into her own and places them on her stomach, his ocean coloured eyes widen, going from hers to where his hands were resting. “They said I am three months along.”

“Y/n…” Dropping to his knees he rested his forehead against her stomach. “I am going to be a father.”

“Yes.” She smiled down at him. “I did not believe them so I had them check four times.”

Both of the men chucked at her words, knowing that she probably asked the maester to check again - hells if Y/n had it her way she would be getting the maesters to check again and again even if her stomach was swollen to the point of exploding.

“I told you that he was wrong Y/n/n. Please allow me to be the first one to give you my congratulations, you will make wonderful parents.” Carlson presses a kiss to her temple and pats Bucky - who is still on his knees - on the back. “I will leave you two to get some rest, you need it, my Queen.”

“Carlson was right, he was wrong.” Bucky knew about her father, of course he did, he had heard the whispers of her being barren from the moment he came to Astoria, it wasn’t until after they were married that he had gained the courage to ask her about the whispers - so she told him the truth, his heart racing with anger at her father, hating the man he had never met. “Our babe is in here.” He whispered.

“Are you happy?”

“More than happy.” Finally standing up he cupped her face and kissed her. “I love you. Gods knows I love you.”

“I love you too.”

When a yawn makes an appearance Bucky is quick to untie her hair from the braids and brush out the tangles, undoing the laces to her dress he helps her slide her dress off and her slip - since being married they both preferred sleeping naked, he quickly removes his own clothes before picking her up and carries her to bed, gently laying her on their bed he helps her get under the covers, climbing in next to her.

With her head resting on his chest he drew invisible shapes on her bare skin - knowing that it helps her fall asleep - he leaned down to press a kiss to her forehead.

“I love you, my sweet love.”

“I love you too.” She mumbled. “Oh, I just remembered we were supposed to marry a long time ago.”

“W-what? Y/n?” Looking down he smiled softly at seeing her already asleep, he made a mental note to ask her what she meant in the morning.

Steve and Sam stood leaning against the wall their eyes bouncing between Bucky and Carlson as the two men paced back and forth in the hallway as if they were caged animals, their fists clenching as Y/n’s screams bounced off the walls. Both stopping every time everything went quiet, only to resume their pacing when they heard her screaming again.

When the door opened Bucky and Carlson nearly collided with each other with how fast they moved towards the door.

“How is she?” They spoke in unison.

“She is well. The babe is here.”

They both sigh of happiness at hearing that Y/n was well, and that the babe had finally arrived twelve hours after her waters broke. Carlson wrapped his arms around Bucky and smiled. “Go and see them.”

“Are you not coming in?”

“I will see them soon.”

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For being here with me, for her.” Carlson nodded then pushed him closer to the door.

Bucky didn’t know what he was going to walk in on but seeing the bloodied sheets being bundled into a ball made him feel sick knowing that was his wife’s blood however that sick feeling went away the second he laid eyes on Y/n - sweat still dripping down her flushed face, her hair a complete mess and a dazed look in her eyes, he thought she was still the most beautiful woman in the world.

The air got caught in his throat. His eyes followed hers that’s when he sees her holding their babe. The babe that he had been talking to whilst it grew inside of her was now here, the babe he loved the second he found out he was going to be a father, he wanted to see if the babe had its mothers nose like he said it would yet he couldn’t force his feet to move.

That was until Y/n looked up at him and smiled, beckoning him closer, it took three large steps for him to be at her side.

“A boy.” She smiled at him.

“He has your nose.” Chuckling when their son scrunched his nose up. “Oh he is perfect Y/n. Have you thought of a name yet?”

“I-I would like to name him after my brother, if that is fine with you?”

“Archie? Our little Archie is perfect.”

When her mum and sisters came in they instantly crowded the cradle where Archie slept peacefully with his stomach full of milk, her mum burst out crying at hearing the name her grandson was given which caused Y/n to panic that she had done something wrong.

“He is a mixture of the two of you.” Her mum wailed, gripping Bucky’s shoulders for dear life.

“You are not mad about his name?”

“Oh you fool, of course I am not! I named your brother after my own, my mother did the same.”

When it was Carlson’s turn to come in he had his hand on Larissa’s back, leaving his wife’s side the second he laid eyes on Archie. Bucky being ever the gentleman helped his friend sit in the seat he was occupying.

“Hi little one, I am your uncle Carlson.” He cooed as he raised him out of the cradle. “Your mama said that she would name all her sons after me but she has not so I will call you Carlson Junior when it is just the two of us.”

“I never said such thing!” Y/n chuckled.

“All of her sons!” Carlson stated with his eyebrow raised, his eyes never leaving his nephew.

“You can name your own son after you.” Y/n quipped back, pointing to his wife, her friends large bump.

“He thinks it is going to be a girl.” Larissa smiles softly as she rubs her hand over her stomach. “May I hold him?”

“Of course you can, he is your nephew after all.”

It took nearly five minutes to get Carlson to hand over Archie to Larissa.

Two weeks later Steve and Sam stood leaning against the wall their eyes bouncing between Carlson and Bucky as the two men paced back and forth in the hallway as if they were caged animals, their fists clenching as Larissa’s screams bounced off the walls. Both stopping every time everything went quiet, only to resume their pacing when they heard her screaming again.

Y/n made sure that she was in the room with her friend as she gave birth, Larissa felt guilty that she couldn’t do the same for Y/n but the maester advised that as she was heavily pregnant herself that she shouldn’t be in the room. After only a couple of hours of labour Larissa’s body sagged in Y/n’s arms as the room filled with the cries of her babe.

Carlson was right. They had a baby girl.

“We have named her Abby, after my mother.” He told Bucky who held his niece in his arms.

“Luckily she takes after her mama and not you.” Bucky chuckled, gasping when his friend throws a cloth at him. “Not when I am holding my niece!”

Y/n and Larissa cooed as they watched a two week old Archie hold a one day old Abby’s hand. Whilst Bucky and Carlson held onto each other with tears running down their faces.

The kingdom thrived even more now that Y/n sat on the throne, the townspeople were more happier than they had ever been before, they no longer feared telling their Queen and King their worries and problems knowing that they would happily put their worries to rest and help with said problems - not like the late king who always dismissed them before they got the chance to open their mouths.

Trading had never been more prosperous. In the short time Y/n had been on the throne she had made more alliances than her own father despite him reigning for twenty one years.

It became a regular occurrence for the people to see their Queen and King walking around the market that they would always chuckle when those not from Astoria saw them walking around freely and not completely surrounded by guards.

When word reached the people that Y/n was with child they all cheered and sang their prayers, and when they heard that the babe was born they got their best clothes ready and waited for the day to come for when they would get to see the new prince of Astoria.

What shocked them the most was when Y/n announced that a building was going to be built and for it to be a school for the children so that they could be educated. It was unheard of. And at first they worried that they wouldn’t be able to afford to send their children to this school, when she shocked them again by telling them that it was going to be free.

Another change made in the kingdom was her army, it seemed to grow with each passing month with more and more boys wanting to fight for her and their home. One day during her pregnancy Y/n sat in the throne room when a knight come up and told her that a bunch of women wanted a word.

The bunch - eight - women came inside, all with a look on their faces that she had seen on her own face when she looked in the mirror. Determination.

“How can I help you today?”

“My Queen, we are here to ask you if you will allow us to fight in your army.” One spoke.

“Really?”

“Yes my Grace, we have always admired your strength and courage-“

“There is no need for flattery.”

“Not flattery my Grace, just the truth.”

Giving a nod of gratitude she eyed the women up and down. “Why do you want to be apart of my army?”

“We wish to fight for our Queen, our home.”

“Meet me on the training ground tomorrow morning.”

“R-really?”

“It will be nice to see women on the training ground.” She smiled, which only grew more when they beamed up at her.

The next morning Y/n met the women who were so eager to prove themselves to their Warrior Queen, due to her being pregnant she didn’t go into the ring but was happy to talk them through the correct stances, where to hit and how to protect themselves. Leaning over the railing with Bucky and Carlson on either side of her, they winced before cheering as one of the women flipped her opponent over her shoulder and onto the ground - the man laid sprawled out on the ground trying to figure out what had just happened.

It was an easy decision to make the eight women soldiers.

Dropping her sword she climbs over the fence and begins running towards the castle, Carlson and the servant right on her heels - everyone was quick to move out of the way for their queen.

Rushing towards the family room where the servant had told her that Bucky was waiting, the guards opened the doors as she panted as she looked around the room.

“W-what is wrong?”

“Say it again, go on, you can do it.” Bucky waved her over as he sat in front of their son, a huge smile on his face as he looked at his wife.

“M-m-mama.”

“Did-did he…”.

“He said it before then I got the servant to get you.” Bucky beamed at his son, chuckling as the one year old kicked his legs out.

“You told her that it was urgent, my heart nearly stopped!”

“It is urgent, Lukas just said his first word!”

Three years after Archie was born the maester confirmed what Bucky had expected that Y/n was pregnant again, he kept telling her that her breast was getting bigger - he was way too happy with himself that he was right. Eight months later Bucky and Carlson were back to pacing back and forth as Y/n gave birth, Larissa came out to let Bucky know that everything was okay and that he could go in, he rushed inside to see the love of his life smiling at their new babe. This time Bucky named their second son, naming him after his uncle.

As Y/n looked around the room she saw her five year old Archie and his best friend, cousin, Abby playing with their toys, a three year old Carl - Carlson’s and Larissa’s son - trying to get away from a two year old Nicholas - Annalise and Liam’s son - Larissa rocking hers and Carlson’s second son, nine month old named Eric, in her arms. She felt happy, felt at peace, sticking her tongue out to Archie making him giggle.

Bucky stood up once Lukas crawled away to follow Carl and Nicholas, and wrapped his arms around Y/n, his hand going to her stomach. “When can we tell them?”

“Not yet.”

Two months ago she found out that she would be back on the birthing bed, screaming and withering in pain, cursing all those around her and begging for it to all end - I mean… she found out that she was expecting their third child.

The rest of their family began trickling into the room one by one, her mum going straight for Lukas as she placed him on her hip she gave her oldest daughter a knowing smile when she sees Bucky’s hand placement.

As the royal wheelhouses pulled up to the royal garden where Y/n had taken Bucky to show him the past king and queens of Astoria, it seemed as if the whole kingdom had come out to witness the unveil of the statues of their queen and king, giving Steve and Sam a nod they removed the large cloth revealing the large statue of her and Bucky, she smiled up at him noticing his eyes were already on her.

“I told you that I would make sure they capture your beauty.”

“Beauty… what?”

“Beauty, sweetheart.”

Chuckling, he took her hand in his and raised their hands to his lips. “Thank you, my love.”

As she laid in bed that night, her heart and head light with the days events. She watched as the flame of the candle flicker in quick succession, blowing it out and turning on her side a content sigh fell from her lips, she snuggled further into Bucky’s warm embrace. The chants from her townspeople making her smile as she laid in the arms of the man she loved more than anything, knowing that her two sons were fast asleep across the hall, placing her hand over Bucky’s as it rested on stomach where their third babe was growing, she fell asleep happily.

“Long live the Queen and King!”

<Previous

Tags: @sapphirebarnes | @sebastians-love | @sidraaaaaaaaa | @mrsnikstan | @barnesxstan | @hi172826 | @alexdarkacademia | @supraveng | @baw1066

[svtminghaolove]

Announcing the engagement - Hip hop unit (SVT)

Hellooo lovlies ~ Do you guys want to know something sick I just realized when I were going to make this post? International GF masterlist has reached over a 1000(!?) notes. That’s insane. Like wow. Thank you. Wow. yeah... Well, enjoy.

Triggers: Online hate

S.Coups: You guys waited until like 3 months before the wedding until announcing it to the public.

The two of you of course started with telling the members, since half of them were in the building as you said yes. To your surprise, the guys were very surprised by the announcement. Apparently Seungcheol had told no one except from his parents and yours. But even though the guys were surprised, it was a happy one. Everyone were so happy for the two of you, and excited for what's to come.

And his parents wee just happy for the two of you, your parents on the other hand were a bit worried about the potential back lash from social media but still very happy to get Seungcheol as a son-in-law. But to be honest, you were a bit worried about the reactions the two of you would get from the fans, even though you knew that most of Carats liked you together with Seungcheol.

And when you went to the office, the two of you had to stay and talk out the "strategy" of how to deal with the news. It was a long conversation that didn't really help with your nerves.

"You okay?", Seungcheol asked as he parked the car outside your apartment complex. You tilted your head in his direction and gave him a weak smile.

"Just nervous. You're the first one in the group to get married, I don't really know what reaction to expect from the fans", you said and he leaned over and took your hand in his.

"I think they will be happy. Most of them at least", you let out a dry laugh and shook your head. "Of course there is going to be some shock, but we've been together for three and a half year, and public for two and a half. Most of them probably realized where this was going, don't underestimate Carats", he smiled and you rolled your eyes but nodded.

"Yeah, alright. You're right."

"Like always", you snorted and shoved away his hand.

"Goodnight doofus", you laughed and opened the door. "I'll call you when I get home form school tomorrow."

"Yeah, love you"

"Love you too"

And three months later the announcement was made and Seungcheol's prediction had been terribly off. Withing minutes of the announcements you started to get so much hate. People were saying that you were ruining Seungcheol's life and career, that you weren't worthy to be his wife and so on. It got to a point where you couldn't even go to class without running into people who would hurl insults at you.

And Seungcheol was devastated by the reactions, he really not expected people to react this way and found that the only way to deal with this was by doing an official live addressing the "problems" regarding his engagement to you.

He sat completely quiet for the first ten minutes of the live, just staring at the comments rolling in.

"Carats…", he breathed out, trying to keep his tears in and his anger down. "I'm so disappointed and sad about the reactions to my engagement.", he sighed and leaned forward in the chair and put his head in his hands. He went quiet for a little while, collecting his emotions.

"You guys get to have your opinion, I took the decision to become an idol and therefore parts of my private life became public. And if this announcement has somehow made you guys disappointed with me, I'm… I am following my heart here and can't say that I'm sorry for doing so, but I do accept your disappointment.", he looked up again. "But I have to draw the line now. I can't accept the fact that y/n is getting hate sent to her daily. That the last couple of days someone has been sending her threatening text, comments and such. It's become so bad that she can't even go to school anymore.",  his breath was shaking as he breathed in and he pressed his lips together in a thin line.

"If you need to get upset, take it out on me. Y/n hasn't done anything wrong, she didn't choose to become a public figure like I did. I am the one who dragged her into the spotlight, the one who chose to love her, the one who proposed to her. Blame me.", he went quiet again and read the comments. "That's all I've got to say.", and he ended the live.

After his own announcement, the hate toned down quite a lot. Some of the fans even started to speak up for you, saying that they were happy that Seungcheol was marrying someone who made him as happy as you did.

Wonwoo: The fact that the two of you had gotten engaged was a surprise to literary no one. Everyone knew that you were it for him, his family knew, your family knew, the members knew and even the fans knew that if Wonwoo was going to get married, it was going to be with you.

That also meant that it was no hurry for the two of you to announce it yet. Of course the two of you called you families, both part who was really happy for the two of you (but like said, not really surprised). Then you and Wonwoo decided to just take it easy for a couple of days, since you had the chance anyhow. You guys spent a lot of time at home just talking and dreaming about the future; When and where should the wedding be? Should it be traditional Korean or a westernized wedding? How many should you invite? Where should the honeymoon be?

The two of you got pretty caught up in your own heads, so much that Wonwoo completely forgot to inform the members about the fact that you had said yes. He had told them before the weekend that he was going to propose and by the end of the weekend the group chat were going crazy. Unluckily for the guys Wonwoo had tuned off his notifications, and the guys didn't want to call incase they would interrupt something.

So when the next practice day came he was basically ambushed by twelve curious men asking: "DID SHE SAY YES!?".

"Oh, right I forgot to text you guys, didn't I?", Wonwoo laughed softly. "Yeah, she said yes.", and cheers erupted from the guys. He was hugged, congratulated and patted on the back. And then he had to go through how he did it, Hoshi and Jeonghan wanted and reenactment but Wonwoo settled with just telling them.

You guys decided to hold on from telling Carats and the public for a few weeks as well but when then you guys announced it by posting a picture of him holding your bejeweled hand and the caption:

'Thank you for coming into my life and deciding to stay in it.

I hope Carats are as happy as we are about this

Thank you so much for everything <3'

Mingyu: Everyone close to the two of you basically already knew, I mean: DK and Hoshi were helping out getting the house ready. And Mingyu couldn't keep his mouth shut, he had talked to everyone and discussed how to get the most romantic proposal with all the members.

So since everyone had known that today was the day, it wasn't actually the two of you who spread the news that you had said yes: it was DK and Hoshi. After congratulating the two of you (and asking if it was okay to tell people) they left the two of you alone and updated the other guys on what had happened. You and Mingyu on the other hand just enjoyed each other and the first evening the two of you had been off work in a long while.

When the daybreak came your phones were filled with congratulations and a text from his manager just telling Mingyu to just say when. Both of you knew that it wouldn't be possible to keep this quiet (Because Mingyu would snitch on the two of you) for long and therefore it only took a few days before the announcement was made.

Out of all the members engagement announcements, this was probably the one who broke the most hearts. The internet got filled with teenage girls crying their hearts out in the comment sections of his Instagram, willowing in the despair of the fact that: "Mingyu won't marry meeeeeee" </3".

To be honest, the two of you just thought it was kind of cute how the fans was reaction and Mingyu just posted a picture of him pouting with the caption:

'Sorry Carat, she stole my heart before I even knew it </3'

Which… let's just say that it didn't exactly calm down the situation. (But ofc that attention-seeker loved it)

Vernon: Yeah, no the two of you didn't really do an announcement to be honest. You guys just calmly brought it up in conversations when you met the people, and everyone was excited for you, no one were really surprised but it didn't make them any less happy. But it was actually an accident found out by the fan that made the whole thing public.

The two of you had not necessarily been keeping it a secret but you hadn't really felt the need to post it on social media, but it happened when the two of you were away on a weekend trip. You had been taking pictures and videos, and had of course been posting online. By this point you'd gotten so used to the weight of the ring on your finger that both you and Vernon just forgot about it when you posted a picture of the two of you. It was a sweet picture where you were squishing Vernon's face with your hand and basically showing off your ring for the world to see.

It only took about… five minutes before the rumor were all over the internet "SEVENTEEN's Vernon engaged with long-term girlfriend, the runway model y/n"

After a quick call with PLEDIS they posted an announcement confirming the rumors, and you and Vernon posted a short explanation online. The reactions weren't that big, people was happy for you and writing that you two would have beautiful babies. You didn't really pay that much attention to what the public was saying because, let's be honest: you knew that mostly people were just teasing Vernon and getting ready to make wedding memes.

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Masterlist

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Taglist:@foxdaisy @pearlygraysky @cixrosie @thmrdrs

[thelordofgifs]

In light of recent interesting discourse about Beren and Lúthien's Silmaril theft, and the Fëanorions' priorities in the lead-up to Nirnaeth and after, I started wondering how things might have changed if B&L had managed to steal two Silmarils rather than one. Would pulling the Union together be harder with only one jewel left to draw focus in Angband?

Then as soon as I thought about it some more, I realised the most inevitable path diverged earlier than that.

Then I started writing a fic, got 400 words in, and realised I wanted to actually figure out what happened first. So here's a half (or potentially a smaller fraction) of a sort of bullet point fic/plan/thing, which may or may not get properly written up later. First I need to work out where to go from here.

Angrist was forged by the greatest of the Dwarf-smiths in the master-workshops of Nogrod. It cuts two Silmarils from Morgoth's iron crown before the blade snaps, and Morgoth stirs in his enchanted sleep.

Beren passes one Silmaril to Lúthien, and they run for it.

Carcharoth still meets them, snarling, at the gate. Beren still holds out a Silmaril to ward him off. His hand still gets bitten off.

But when the Eagles come for them, and Lúthien clambers sobbing onto Thorondor's back, she clasps a Silmaril in her hand.

The Eagles bear them towards Doriath, and the Treelight undiminished shines out over Dorthonion and Gondolin.

In chilly Himring, Maglor is shaken awake from nightmares of fire and smoke by his eldest brother, who drags him out of bed and towards the window. "Look! Is that not a Silmaril that shines now in the North?"

Maglor recognises it, of course. Moreover, he recognises the size and shape of Eagles in flight, even at a distance. Recognises, too, that as often as not they bear doom itself upon their great feathered backs.

(His father's jewel stinging his Oath awake, his brother's emaciated bleeding body wrapped in Fingon's cloak - they all mean failure.)

"Thingol's daughter and the mortal must have succeeded," he says. "What can we do?"

Maedhros and Maglor, you see, are Not Happy with the news out of Nargothrond.

That Celegorm wanted to force an elf-maid to wed against her will, after what they heard befell Aredhel—

That Curufin could turn against his favourite cousin, and betray him to his death—

"I am afraid," says Maedhros, "of what it will make us do. What it will make us become."

"We could ignore it," says Maglor, whose first response is always inaction. "Let it go to Doriath—" But it is hard even to finish the sentence, with the Oath choking his words.

And there is a bigger problem: Celegorm and Curufin, who are sleeping now (it is only Maedhros who can be relied upon to pace the fortress by night), will not do so forever. They have already attacked Thingol's daughter once - will they do so again, before she can pass into the safety of her mother's Girdle?

"We have to get to Doriath before they do," says Maedhros, and wonders when his little brothers became the threat to be outpaced.

"And then what?" asks Maglor, who never shies from difficult questions.

Maedhros gives him one of his quick strange smiles. "This is how it works, you know," he says. "Huan has turned from Tyelko. Tyelpë has repudiated Curvo. It turns you into the worst version of yourself, and then it strips away the best thing you have left."

Maedhros has ridden out to claim a Silmaril before, and lost all of himself in the process.

Maglor, too, has been offered all he ever wanted - his dearest brother, returned to him - and turned away for the sake of the Oath he renewed at his father's deathbed.

They are both afraid of what they could become.

They ride out from Himring anyway, swiftly and secretly, before the dawn.

Meanwhile, Thorondor sets Beren and Lúthien down on Doriath's southern border.

Huan comes to join them, and with the power of the Silmaril, Beren is healed sooner than he might have been, otherwise.

The Quest is fulfilled. Beren has no reason to stay away from Thingol's house.

Instead of wandering in the wilds, the lovers return to Menegroth, present a Silmaril, and promptly get married.

Thingol is very surprised (and overjoyed) to see them; the last news he had of Lúthien was that she had vanished from Nargothrond.

In fact, he's just sent out a couple of messengers, led by Mablung Heavy-hand, with a scathing letter to Maedhros Fëanorion demanding his aid in finding the princess.

North of the Girdle: "Hey, isn't that Maedhros Fëanorion?"

"Sure is," says Mablung, who was at the Mereth Aderthad.

"Hail, Mablung of Doriath!" calls Maedhros, who never forgets a face. "What news from King Thingol?"

Well, there isn't news as such. Just... fury.

Maedhros considers the merits of keeping his cards close to his chest versus the dire diplomatic situation he's currently in, and opts to share what they saw from Himring, and what it bodes for Beren's success.

He decides not to share that Lúthien was definitely with Beren, which he knows because his brothers attacked her.

Maglor is not sure how stopping to chat with an Iathren marchwarden is going to get them closer to a Silmaril, but he isn't in the habit of arguing with Maedhros.

Anyway, before the conversation can wrap up, a marauding werewolf appears.

Right. Carcharoth.

The Iathrim make the sensible call and scramble up some trees. Maglor follows a beat later.

Noldor don't climb trees very often. It isn't one of the skills Maedhros has had cause to practice one-handed.

Not that it matters, because he's frozen where he stands, eyes wide and bright and thoughtful.

This is unusual. Maedhros would not be the most renowned warrior of the Noldor if he were constantly dissociating in the midst of battle.

He saves the dissociation for after the battle, thank you.

The wolf is almost upon him.

Well, thinks Maglor, about time I did some saving for a change.

Maglor is not Lúthien. Does he need to be? He knows enough about madness, and enough about torment. He knows how to sing the suffering to sleep.

He drops down from his perch to begin a lullaby.

Carcharoth slows down when he sings, and comes to a momentary halt, and Maglor takes the time to hiss, "Nelyo, run—"

"They burned him," Maedhros breathes, still with that bright faraway look in his eyes that means he is half-lost in memory. "His hands were black and ruined. No evil thing may touch them."

The wolf lunges.

[I want to kill Maglor off here but I'm a coward. so.]

Carcharoth savages Maglor's leg and he collapses.

That brings Maedhros back to himself.

Mablung and his party aren't heavily armed. They were only meant to be messengers, after all. They get a few shots in at the wolf, who runs off, still maddened.

Maglor isn't moving isn't talking and there's so much blood—

(to be continued)

[youarethedancingdean]

Day 7 of @steddie-week

Prompt: Free Space

It all started February, 8th. Eddie found a card in his locker after lunch. It was plain except for a comic-style bumblebee and a speech bubble with the phrase 'Bee mine'. First he thought this was some sort of stupid prank by his band mates, Gareth would come up with something like this. But after opening it and reading what was written in it, he wasn't so sure anymore.

Eddie.

I know, it's not Valentine's Day yet, which is why I'm not asking you to be my valentine. But be sure, I will come the time.

Isn't the bee cute?

The handwriting was too neat to be any of his friends'. God, what if this was some delusional girl with a crush on the school freak, the gay school freak. He better start finding the words to let her down easy.

Two day later, Eddie found a card in his backpack. What the hell, who had put that there? This one wasn't one you could open. The front was white and said 'Save the Date' in baby pink, cursive letters.

Of course, I'm not planing our wedding. I'm not that insane. But, you do have a date on the 14th. Make sure you're free, will you?

Tacos or pizza?

Tacos all the way, but who was this? Eddie had never had a secret admirer, let alone a date. Was this really for real or just a stupid prank in the end. He found, that he was hoping this was real. Even if he'd let down a girl, at least someone had been interested in him this way for once.

The 12th came around and so did the third card. He came home from band practice to find it in the mailbox of his uncle's trailer. The envelope it was in was plain white, the only thing on it was 'Eddie.' written in the by now so familiar handwriting.

The card was hand drawn this time. It was a sleeping bat hanging from the branch of a tree and a small red chested bird on the same branch. The drawing wasn't extravagant, but still pretty damn good. The inside read a joke that only a true nerd would really get. Maybe his admirer was nerdy, too? This was getting pretty interesting.

Be the bat man to my robin ♡

On Valentine's Day Eddie expected someone or at least a card to pop up at every corner. All day, though, he didn't get anything. He didn't even know where his stupid date would be, so he needed to get something, right?

It was 6:30 pm, when he heard a knock on the trailer's door. He jumped up excitedly, only to be disappointed when he opened the door to see Steve Harrington. Don't get him wrong, he thought Steve was beautiful and– GOD– he would date the living shit out of him. But there was no way Steve 'Straight Boy' Harrington had a thing for him. Hell, they barely exchanged nice words.

"Kids aren't here. Didn't they specify where to pick them up again? I think it's Max’ this time," he mentioned instead of greeting Steve, pointing at the trailer across the street where Max and her mother lived. "Not here to pick up the kids, here to pick up you," Steve responded with a cheeky smile, which left Eddie's face with a frown of confusion.

He was handed a small bouquet of flowers, all of them unique and unusual and definitely not some cheesy ones like roses. "Who put you up to this? I need to know, man. I've been getting these cards all week and I need to tell her... well, I need to talk to her. Steve only smiled wider, pointing at the small card in the bouquet. It finally read 'Be my Valentine' and contrary to the others he'd gotten it was just a basic, red and pink Valentine's Day card you could get anywhere.

You want tacos, don't you?

- Steve

Eddie’s eyes widened as he looked back up at the man in front of him. "You're straight," was all he said, quietly and calmly. He had to prepare himself for a disappointment, this had to be a prank after all. "Thank you for the diagnosis, Dr. Munson. But, I think you're wrong there. Look, maybe I shouldn't have made it this cheesy and silly, but I that's how I am, okay. And it's better you know that before you agree to go out with me. So? Tacos?" Steve was clearly pretty insecure and nervous, but he was also dressed nicely and his hair was looking even better than usually. And he knew he would pick tacos. "You're into me? You wanna date me?" Eddie asked, still in shock from it all. Steve nodded. "Let me get my jacket, you're driving," Eddie responded instantly, earning a relieved chuckle from Steve. "And, of course, were having tacos!" he called from his bedroom over the noises of someone looking for something specific in a huge mess.

[fancyfeathers]

omg that student ask was so creepy but fun!! i'd like to add that darling would try to run away as last ditch effort. too bad he already predicted your moves </3 i dont think she can ever look at a mathematics question normally ever again lol

Just imagine that she runs away the night before she is supposed to leave the university and go back to London to prepare for her wedding to William, packing up a small suitcase and buying a ticket to the west end of the country and take a boat off to Ireland to live stay with family there who she has written to and they believed her story about what William attempted to do to her. Her roommate would cover for her but in the end none of it matters because when she arrives at the train station William’s brothers, Albert and Louis were waiting in the carriage and snagged her before she had the chance to leave.

The carriage ride was mostly silent besides a comment or two from Albert about how lovely the wedding will be, but there is no response from William’s darling. Then they don’t return to the university but rather the Moriarty Estate in Durham, since she has her things packed already it made sense for her to stay in the guest bedroom and they could all leave together in the morning, yes?

But it is all to embarrassing when she walks into the drawing room and sees William reading in the drawing room as if he was waiting for them too arrive, and in fact he was because he just smiles and tells her that Louis had already made her bed and prepared the guest bedroom for her earlier that afternoon.

The next day, they return to London as planned and even though she stays at her family home while the wedding is being planned, William or one of his brothers were almost always by her side, William taking her to florists or bakers to discuss the flowers or cake, that she was indifferent to because she did not want to get married in the first place. Then Albert or Louis would take her to modiste for her wedding dress since William could not be allowed to be to see her like that before the wedding.

The wedding is a burl, a situation she barely remembers, well wishes, and smiles towards her and William. Then the next thing she remembers is sitting in the drawing room of the Moriarty Estate next to William, her mind reeling from the shock of everything because her mind was on autopilot since at that night when she was caught at the train station and all hope of freedom slipped through her fingers.

She becomes essentially a house wife, after her marriage to William, she is allowed to do what she wishes as long as she asks William first and normally he will allow her to do what she asks but she never asks due to her fear, shock, and anger at him. He’ll be working in his study and she will be sitting in a near by chair, a book open on her lap but she is gazing out the window. William just glances up briefly as he grades and looks back at his paper.

“Dear?”

“Hm?”

“You were a literature major at Durham in I remember correctly, yes?”

“…I was… why do you ask?”

“I am scheduled to teach summer classes at a university here in London about thirty minutes carriage ride from here. I took the liberty to look into the courses they have available and you would be available to finish your degree.”

William just watched as his darling’s eyes went wide as she just stared out the window, there was no response to William but he could see the light in her eyes grow back ever so slightly…

But that light would be extinguished again a few weeks later, his darling would be finishing work for one of her classes ate at night and William told her that he had meeting he needed to attend and he would be home by the time she was asleep. It was near one or two in the morning and she was still awake as she was finishing up and she she was walking downstairs to clean up the cup of tea she made for herself while she worked, then she hears the doors open and close followed by footsteps and she assumes it’s William. She is walking back to the staircase as she sees William, it’s dark besides the lamp she had and she can see the reflection of a thick liquid on his clothing, blood. She is just wide eyed and horrified before she dropped her lantern, she could not even scream because how scared she was.

“William?”

“…You were supposed to be asleep.”

[forasecondtherewedwon]

The Ladies Whistledown - chapter six

Pairing: Eloise Bridgerton x Penelope Featherington Rating: T Chapter: 6 / ? Word Count: 2949

read on tumblr: one | two | three | four | five

A Bridgerton wedding was widely acknowledged to be a season-concluding event no other event could hope to surpass. Penelope saw her mama take this assessment sourly (the Featheringtons had given the ball that had been intended to close out the season, after all), though she painted on a smile and made sure to inform any who raised the topic that of course she and her girls had been invited. They had been the closest of friends with the Bridgertons all their lives. That family’s success was their success, and vice versa. (Though which of the Bridgertons, Penelope wanted to know, had been overawed by the pomp of Philippa’s wedding the way the Featheringtons now were by the Viscount and Miss Sharma’s?)

Because it was a great occasion, Penelope’s mama had determined they should have new dresses for it. No more for the rest of the year, mind, she had told them with a stiff wag of her finger. While Prudence had squealed with delight, Penelope had nodded solemnly, hoping the meeker she behaved, the greater the chance might be that she could have some small say about her gown.

On the day they were meant to visit the Modiste, Prudence said suddenly, “It ought to have been my wedding that ended the season,” and fell to crying on the chaise. With a great and pitiless sigh, their mama sank down beside her daughter and scowled as she patted Prudence’s heaving back. Seeing the opportunity to escape the walls of their house slipping away, Penelope spoke quickly.

“Might I call on Eloise and go with her to the Modiste instead?” she asked.

Her mother narrowed her eyes, tracing her gaze up and down the length of Penelope.

“You would select your dress yourself? The fabric, the cut, everything?”

“It is not as though I am ignorant of your taste,” she reminded her mama carefully. “I know what you prefer.”

“Yes…” her mama said slowly, consideringly.

She was clearly weighing the option of allowing Penelope to go alone—taking with her whatever wild designs she might have for her gown—against having to chaperone both girls together at a later date, closer to the wedding.

“Yes, alright,” she said decisively. She flapped a hand at Penelope, dismissing her. “But no blue. You are not a Bridgerton.”

This final remark, delivered as Penelope began to turn away, was enough to bring her to a stop. She felt as though she had been stung by a nettle. Eloise had thought her gossip sheet harsh; if only she could have heard the poisonous words spoken by Penelope’s mama, words that seemed at once carelessly and intentionally malicious.

Penelope had not forgotten that she was no Bridgerton. However could she have? There was no warmth in this drawing room, no kindness or generosity between its inhabitants. She would already feel the distance between she and they at the wedding, but her mother must insist that she not dress as if she were one of them. As though any onlooker would think red hair and fumbled social graces marks of the finest family in Mayfair. The thought was laughable, and so the fact that her mama had resolved to not allow Penelope to leave without implanting it in her mind was enough to fill her with shame.

“No, Mama,” she agreed without looking back, then hurried on her way.

—

As she and her maid crossed the square, Penelope cheered somewhat. What would have been an odious errand—her body draped in the most lurid of fabrics and critiqued by her mama all the while—now had the possibility of being quite endurable, even enjoyable. She drew the free air deeply into her lungs.

“Excellent,” Eloise pronounced the invitation when Penelope had entered Bridgerton House and given it. “I have not yet been fitted for my dress either.”

“How fortuitous,” Pen chirped.

Eloise regarded her skeptically as she pulled on her gloves and looped her reticule around her wrist.

“Are you alright?”

“Fine,” Penelope replied, but she had to glance swiftly downward to conceal the emotional wobble of her chin and the shine her friend’s question threatened to bring to her eyes. She sniffed and raised her head, wearing a brighter expression. “I am fine.”

And she was, or would be. That Eloise had asked meant a great deal more to Penelope than her mother’s cold words. She could tolerate almost anything now that she and Eloise were friends again. More than friends, she reminded herself. We have gone into business together.

Because they took a carriage to the Modiste—Hyacinth and Francesca’s dresses were ready, and Eloise was meant to collect them during their trip—there was no opportunity to discuss that business. Penelope and Eloise’s maids sat with them, and so they spoke about preparations for the wedding instead. As Eloise told it, these were all extraordinarily tiresome, not to mention appallingly extensive; Anthony had determined (perhaps even before the engagement) that his bride should have whatever she wished, and so there would be heaps of Bridgerton tradition as well as additional hours and flowers and other supplies allocated for decorations and activities which might honour Miss Sharma’s Indian culture. Penelope was filled with curiosity, and Eloise allowed that she was too, it was only difficult to express that curiosity at home without the risk of Anthony attempting to engage her on some trivial task.

“He does too much!” she complained, and Penelope only smiled, thinking how she would love someone to do this much too-much for her. She found it all so romantic.

Naturally, it had crossed Penelope’s mind that this would be the first time Eloise would encounter Madame Delacroix since discovering confirmation of that lady’s participation in Lady Whistledown’s business. When their party entered the shop, Penelope nearly held her breath.

“Ah, bonjour!” Madame Delacroix effused. “Such a pleasure to see you both! More dresses for the Viscount’s wedding, am I correct? Bon!”

Penelope gestured for Eloise to go first; the Viscountess Bridgerton (soon to be Dowager Viscountess) had provided specifications for Eloise, as Penelope’s mama had for her. However, Eloise appeared to be relieved by this rather than distressed. At first, Penelope took for granted that this was simply because Eloise would not be forced to wear orange, pink, or yellow. On reflection—and watching Eloise peruse bolts of fabric without a sign of strong preference—she realized it might be that she had resigned herself to her family’s colour palette in a way Penelope had never been able to. Was there some part of Eloise that ever longed to wear yellow?

While Madame Delacroix served Eloise, unspooling fabric and overlaying it with various pieces of lace to demonstrate what might be done to elevate the garment for such an occasion, Penelope closely observed their interaction. She wondered, every moment, whether Eloise would hint to the proprietress that she was in on their secret—that she knew Penelope was Lady Whistledown, and that Madame Delacroix had been aiding her. Besides the three of them and the girls’ maids, who lingered by the shop window, the establishment was empty; it was the end of the season, and few in the ton currently required new dresses. If Eloise kept her voice low, the secret would not escape this shop.

It was not necessarily Penelope’s desire that her dealings with either woman be kept from the other, but she had not yet had time to consider how she might navigate her—their—expanding enterprise. She was afraid of winks and signals; she was afraid, she supposed, of losing control of what she had created. Lady Whistledown was akin to a ward, and Penelope knew Whistledown could be a very naughty child, a very impertinent one, but she had only ever been primarily under Penelope’s care. Even her worst behaviour was funny or charming or done for a reason, even if the end perhaps failed to justify the means.

So she watched Eloise and Genevieve and waited and listened. And then she jumped when the Modiste beckoned her over for her turn to select fabric.

“Lady Featherington was unable to attend with you?” Genevieve noted slyly.

“If only I could fully feel as though I were out from under her supervision,” Penelope rejoined with a smile.

She instinctually kept her voice low. It would not do for her maid, sympathetic as she may have been, to overhear—or even Eloise. Appearing too familiar with the Modiste (and discussing Penelope’s mama, even if their criticisms were indirect, was very familiar indeed) was a potential invitation for Eloise to mention other connections. Business connections. They could not allow themselves to feel too comfortable. Penelope had learned that lesson.

“We will be keeping with the, hmm, traditional Featherington colours then?” Genevieve inquired. Even she sounded disappointed.

“Well…”

This single word brought a smile to the Modiste’s lips. Penelope ducked her head under the weight of her own shy grin.

“Perhaps we might do something a little different?” she ventured.

“Bien sûr,” Genevieve said with a wink. “I have a pale pink that would look exquisite with your colouring.”

She ushered Penelope over to the bolt of fabric in question and unspooled a bit. Penelope reached out and touched the fabric. It was several shades lighter than the pinks her mama typically permitted her to wear, but it was pink, and the weight of the fabric was appropriate for wedding attire without being too fine; her mama would not be able to find fault with the cost.

 “A silver overlay, perhaps?” Genevieve suggested. “To cool the pink even further?”

But Penelope knew she must not allow herself to be carried away. She must take small steps, make concessions for what her mama expected. If her mama hated the new dress, she would simply make Penelope wear something already in her wardrobe, something horrid and, undoubtedly, yellow. This new creation would be sent back, and Penelope would only find herself heartbroken after getting attached to an idea of herself she was denied the possibility of realizing.

“Perhaps an adornment of flowers, instead,” she proposed.

“Whatever you think best.” Madame Delacroix was a consummate professional in all things, and Penelope was grateful that she behaved so now.

Penelope swallowed before choking out an addendum: “Yellow, I should think. Yellow flowers.”

“Certainly, Miss Penelope.”

Penelope took a step away from the wall of fabrics, then stopped herself. “Pale yellow,” she said. A small victory.

“A wonderful complement to the colour of the dress,” Genevieve praised. “It will be lovely.”

“Flowers will be quite the theme of the day,” Eloise said, sauntering over. “Anthony seems to be ordering them by the thousand. I do not see him but I hear him muttering about flowers.”

“I will not look out of place then,” Penelope tittered.

Eloise glanced at her with warm amusement in her eyes.

“’Course not. You shall look like one of us, only more cheerful, as we will have been hustled and scolded up until the very last moment. Right up until Miss Sharma appears at the end of the aisle, Anthony will be hissing at us all to behave and my mother will be fussing with my hair.”

Penelope smiled with sympathy, though truthfully, she had absorbed little after Eloise had promised that she would look like one of the Bridgertons. Heart thumping merrily, she followed Eloise to make an appointment with Genevieve to return for a fitting of her gown once the Modiste had made it up.

—

While the finished gown had been met with her mama’s narrow-eyed stare, it had been deemed passable. The wedding itself was met with far heartier approval. The fine weather held, and though the day was a warm one, those in attendance were refreshed by the welcome breeze blowing through as they chatted and sipped champagne in the garden of Bridgerton House following the church ceremony.

Everything was splendid, Penelope thought: the flute of sparkling champagne in her grasp, the reams of flowers Eloise had previously derided, and, of course, the picture of elegant adoration that was the Viscount and his new Viscountess. Also splendid was the privacy all the talk and celebration had afforded Penelope and Eloise; though there were many people in the garden, all were absorbed in their own pockets of conversation. Discussions of the Viscountess’s wedding hairstyle (expected to set a trend), the floral arrangements, which Bridgerton might be the next to marry, the excellent music, and the music itself filled the air, rising from the quartet set up on the lawn. Eloise and Penelope were effectually safe from eavesdroppers, if there were a person there who could even think of such a thing when there was so much to talk about.

Their conversation had begun well, with Eloise’s immediate agreement that this wedding could not go unmentioned in Whistledown. Had Eloise never discovered her secret, had the two of them never fought, Penelope would certainly have written about the wedding. She would have dedicated an entire issue of her gossip sheet to enumerating every detail discussed in this very garden, and published the general consensus on each detail as well. But she would have written other things too, like which mamas looked a tad desperate, shepherding daughters who appeared close to tears which were being explained as an expression of joy for the couple’s happiness rather than their personal hopelessness at arriving at the end of the social season still un-courted. She would have printed assumptions about the success or failure of marriages made earlier in the season, watching those couples circulate about the garden. She would, in fine, have inevitably written something rather cutting in amongst the fluff of the Viscount and Viscountess’s wedding. It was Lady Whistledown’s way. It was what her readers had come to expect.

Eloise’s presence alone urged Penelope away from crafting cruel remarks, even without paper. Eloise had a keen mind for connecting the tidbits they heard to larger conclusions they might draw. If unmarried girls were crying, why should they despair so soon? If mamas were visibly panicked, perhaps they ought to put less pressure on their children. Was it not worth mentioning that there were married ladies here who had come with friends instead of husbands? Did this not point to the possibility of finding fulfillment beyond marriage? Should not that be celebrated?

In return for Eloise’s insights, Penelope gave her first lesson on invisibility. If they stood just there, in the shade, the ornaments in their hair would not catch the sun and attract attention. If they did not stroll around the garden too quickly, there would not appear to be any particular purpose to their movements. If they positioned themselves near this lady or that lord, Eloise and Penelope were sure to hear whatever had been told to them, as those guests had the loudest voices and least discretion.

“You are rather good at this,” Eloise said, eyeing her.

Penelope could not at first tell whether she was meant to interpret this remark as a compliment or critique.

“You know what I am,” she said. A gossipmonger. One whose income depends upon standing in the right place and listening well.

“It is fascinating.”

“Oh.”

“I am ashamed to say that I long assumed there was nothing more interesting being said than whatever left my own mouth,” Eloise confessed, linking her arm through Penelope’s as they strolled. Penelope patted it and held it in place. “Reading about myself in Whistledown cured me of much of that arrogance. I realized it was sometimes better to listen, and that few people were as trivial as I had assumed them to be.”

Penelope gave Eloise’s arm a squeeze and they took several steps in silence before she replied.

“Unfortunately, many people are that trivial.” The girls shared a laugh. “Or, at least, what they speak of is.”

“I can see how it would be difficult to report much else,” Eloise said thoughtfully, “when snide gossip comprises much of what you hear.”

“I do not think our sheet—yes, El, our sheet—will change the essential workings of our society, but adding depth to what we print may aid in inspiring our readers to have more depth in their conversations.”

“You mean it will not all be reporting stories of young ladies’ ruin and spreading rumours which end friendships.”

This was said archly enough that Penelope blushed.

“That is right,” she said. “We will try harder to do good. We will help people—young ladies, especially.”

“Yes! And we will not always write about courtship and weddings and love…”

As they walked, Penelope’s gaze fell on Colin, dashing in his blue waistcoat, charming in the bow he gave Lady Danbury to excuse himself to push Hyacinth on the swing. “Not too high, my dears!” Dowager Viscountess Bridgerton called out. Penelope smiled absentmindedly at the happy scene. Slowly, the smile slipped. He had declared her unmarriageable.

“Pen?”

Penelope blinked and focused her attention back on Eloise.

“Yes?”

“Are you listening to my ideas?” she inquired jestingly. “I believed this to be a partnership.”

Penelope forced a laugh.

“Of course. I was only thinking. Please, tell me more of your thoughts. I will compose a draft when I return home, then steal away this evening so you might review them before the pages are sent to the printer.”

“How thrilling! The process is really so quick, so easy?”

Penelope laughed genuinely this time.

“Easy? Oh, El!”

“Hush!” Eloise swatted her. “You will attract attention, and you have just finished teaching me how important it is to not attract attention!”

Penelope composed herself.

“You are quite right.”

But within moments, she had dissolved into giggles once again.

[ede917]

I decided to draw more of my si/oc for Hazbin Hotel: Capper Dubois.

He and Alastor's Mother (Am) first met in 1906 at his favorite diner where she worked as a waitress (that he later bought to give her job security, he's rich and does nice things for people he likes, sue him) when he was 20, she was 25, and Alastor was 6.

They were just good friends until he caught Alastor's father abusing them when Alastor was 13. Capper beat him half to death then threw him out of the house and told him never to come back (if he later went missing and Capper and Alastor had a bonding moment out in the bayou together with nothing but a cinderblock and some rope, well, that's no one's business but their's).

Capper and Am's romance after that was a whirlwind, dancing and singing and painting the town. Alastor (15) even gave her away at their wedding (and if anyone didn't like the idea of a lowly black waitress marrying one of the most powerful men in New Orleans, then they were quick to learn that gators got to eat too).

After Am's death from a brain aneurysm in 1928, Capper fell into depression, just going through the motions of life. The only thing he still found joy in was his son Alastor and his radio broadcast. But when Alastor was shot and killed by a hunter in 1933, Capper completely lost it. He tracked that hunter down and fed him to his own dogs before letting the authorities catch him. He was sentenced to death and given the chair in 1934.

Finding himself in Hell, Capper was quick to reunite with Alastor, the only family he had left (he being one of the few people in all of creation Alastor genuinely cares for). With his son's help, he was able to establish himself as one of Hell's sovereign overlords. Using his experience from his time in the New Orleans underground, he made himself a demon of principles: fair contracts for the souls in his employ, merciless brutality against his enemies, and endless torment to those he genuinely hates (pedophiles, rapists, the hunter, Alastor's father, Valentino) every hated soul claimed, adding another eye to his tail.

Eventually however, he hears about a passion project led by one Charlie Morningstar, Princess of Hell. A hotel for rehabilitating sinners and getting them into Heaven. Probably the first time in 90 years Capper felt any hope of seeing his wife again.

And so, he became Charlie's first true supporter (aside from Vaggie) providing aid to the hotel in exchange for safe haven for his people on extermination day and the hope of reuniting with Am in Heaven.

And then shortly after the battle with Heaven and the opening of the new hotel . . .

He was betrayed. Murdered on the steps of the hotel he gave so much to defend.

Of course, death isn't always final.

Overall, Capper would say he's fairly happy with how things turned out.

[rorywritesjunk]

(one of these days I'll actually post chapters and other works and not just these train of thought mini fics. I'm almost done with Impel Down and will go into Marineford. I... Needed some angst. Just a little, maybe a sprinkle. There will be a part two.)

pt 2

Sunny and the kids aren't on the ship when Buggy comes home.

Mohji tells him that after he was arrested, she took the kids and left. She needed to think some things over so she returned to the village where they met. Miss Pins has retired but Benji took over the shop. Having Sunny back makes his job so much easier.

Buggy pretends like it doesn't bother him but orders the crew to take him to her. When he's in the privacy of his room he falls to pieces. He had hoped she would have stayed on the ship to welcome him home, but could he blame her? How many years of marriage did they have? How many times has she put up with him? Was she finally through with him?

They arrive a week later. He bursts into the shop, dressed in his best to ask her to return home. Gold is sitting at the table with crayons and paper while Silver is in Sunny's arms as she stands at the front counter, looking over the books. She glances up when she sees him and there's no smile on her face. The kids, however, are thrilled to see their daddy. Sunny passes Silver to him while Gold rushes him, wrapping his tiny arms around one of Buggy's legs, chattering nonstop about the stuff they'd been up to, drawings that he did, and the books mommy read to them.

With both kids in his arms, happy to see their daddy, Buggy turns his attention to his wife with a grin on his face. "So, where's my welcome home kiss?"

"Do you want one?" Sunny asks, arms crossed as she stares back at him. He wonders how angry she really is over this. She had told him to be careful looking for that treasure, to not just go head first into those places, but he didn't listen and managed to come face to face with the damn Marines. When she learned of what happened to her husband she left. No reason to be on the ship without him.

"Of course I do!" Buggy insists. "Why wouldn't I?! I missed you just like you missed me!"

She doesn't humor him with a response and closes the book she has been looking at. "Maybe you should have thought about it before getting yourself arrested."

The calmness in her voice unnerves Buggy. He tightens his hold on the kids, hoping they could do something cute to distract their mom from getting angry at Buggy. He hates it when his wife is angry at him and it doesn't happen often, but when it does he has to pay for it. So he gives her a big grin, shrugging as he holds Silver in his arms.

"Sunny babe, I was doing it for us." He insists. "And maybe there was a hiccup or two in the plan but everything's gonna change! It's gonna be better!"

"Is it?" She asks. "Or are you just going to get arrested again?"

The calmness still bothers him. He tries to think of a response but has none. She's just staring at him, no smile or frown on her face, just a calm, neutral expression that absolutely terrifies him. He shoots a glance at her hands, relieved to see her still wearing her wedding ring, but for how much longer?

"I need a day, Buggy."

"A day? For what?!"

"To think this through."

"Think what through?!" He demands. "What are you talking about?!"

"We can talk later." She sighs. "I'm just tired and I can't do this in front of the kids." She rubs her face and looks him over. "Leave your coat with me so I can fix it."

"Where am I supposed to go?!" Is he being sent away after just reuniting with them? Is this it, the end to almost 15 years of marriage? He got arrested once and she was done?!

"Your ship?"

That was a knife to the heart. His ship. Not theirs. She specifically said his ship. This was it. This has to be the end. He couldn't believe it. He was so distraught, his mind racing, that he didn't hear what she was saying at first. She finally snapped her fingers in front of him after repeating his name multiple times, catching his attention.

"There's room upstairs still." She told him. "Benji doesn't live in the building, he's off with his husband nearby, so I've had the entire top floor for me and the kids. You can stay with us for the night, and if I'm ready to talk we're going to talk, understand?"

He did understand he just didn't want to.

"I'm going to close up shop. Take your coat off and hang it up, Buggy. I'll work on it after dinner."

"So should I come back tomorrow?"

"If you want, but you can stay with us if you want as well." She said, shoulders dropping as she let out a sigh. "We just need to talk."

He really didn't want to but he was nodding. "S-Sure."

[borzoilover69]

YOOOOOO whenever i see your meta posts or analysis or posts i go fucking wild. Youare like Tomatograter's type of successor u just rose from the deep darks of the fandom and decided it was ur turn . i mean this, of course, in a psotiive way

I love your writing so much, you get their points so right and also you feed the pumpkin patch fandom very well and we really appreciate it, sheesh!!!!!

i would love to say more about how i love ur thinking but thats the thing, cant put it in words!!!

since im here already, i was wondering, do you think they would ever marry ? (and/or divorce lmao)

Thankyou!!! I had to sit down for a moment.. being compared to such a legend.. *shakes my head* my ego has been stroked, the fire is blazing, and ten children have died in the blaze.

At least i hope i am. I'm touched, i just suddenly appeared and started talking and all you funny people crawled out of the woodworks and started following me like little pikmin. That's a funny image in my head. Ok i took a break to draw it out and it is funny. It is really funny haha.

Tbh i just talk a lot to myself and i decided to put it somewhere other than the walls of my own room for once and captchalogue the lot because i talk a lot. To myself. Most of the time i look back and i think to myself "what was even the point i didnt even make a conclusion im going to fail my english major" but then i remember im not in school anymore so teachers can shove it.

I love dirkjake i'm actually pretty insane about it but i think that's obvious. I'm one snickers away from insane posting about them conciously and only the influx of voices i get about it staves me from putting it on my keyboard. I so get the feeling of not being able to put it in words. But anyways I've talked enough and i drew all of you guys as pikmin so as i was saying.

The only marriage i can see for Dirkjake is either one where they buy rings and then have icecream in 7/11 and then immediately forget about it until sometime they laugh about how they had that nonlegal marriage that one time. Maybe an exchange of vows but they really don't seem like wedding guys. The other option is one where one of them tricks the other into signing marriage nuptials which is really funny to me.

HOWEVER WITH THAT IN MIND. Im a BIG fan of them divorcing as many times per their whims. I think it should be a fucking bit. Like the divorce office has an entire department because they're like regulars at a goddamn bar they can't stop divorcing each other. Addiction is a terrible thing.

dirk texts roxy "Jake and I are eloping to the Bahamas." and then approximately ten minutes later "Jake and I are getting divorced in the Bahamas."

the way their friends know theyve divorced again is when dirk starts posting grindr screenshots making fun of the ppl he talks to on there. He has a priv account and he meets trashy guys and posts their credit card info on his priv for jane and roxy to freely use.

jane and roxy are out for brunch and jane gets a message asking about commissioning a cake and jane excitedly opens it, then loudly sighs and puts her phone screen-down on the table and roxy goes "divorce again?" and jane says "divorce again."

every time they get a cake from jane they ask her to write some funny joke about divorce on it but eventually she starts writing "get your shit together" instead.

jake says something kinda stupid and dirk says "i want a divorce" and everyone in the room laughs but dirk is dead fucking serious.

They're this one video from danny gonzalez. Holy shit do i have so much to say about divorce. Take a photo of me and my boyfriend.

[ryuichirou]

Replies

Short ones today!

Anonymous asked:

Is Yandere Todd invited to Wallace and Mobile’s wedding?

I don’t think so, and the regular Todd isn’t invited either… Why would he be? He is just one guy that Wallace hooked up with a couple of times over the course of 3 days, albeit kind of a clingy and dangerous one; I wouldn’t be surprised if Wallace forgets about him by the time he and Mobile get married :(

That doesn’t mean that Todd won’t show up to sit in the corner, stalk them and even cry a little of course. And if this is Yandere Todd, he might even consider ruining Wallace’s special day, but maybe he’ll be smarter and just watch for now. For now..

Anonymous asked:

No question, just wanted to say you draw bulges in a way that lets them live rent free in my head. Art work very good

Anonymous asked:

Silver's bulge my goodness... He's a big, healthy boy ❤️ and Lilia...... Can't even eat with his mouth closed 😔 Silver please get him with the spray bottle!!

This is about yesterday’s comic! Thank you so much for appreciating the bulge, Anons <3 Ironically, this is one of the things that I consider to be tricky to draw, so I am very happy it looks good… I’d say that I didn’t intend it to be noticeable, but then again I redrew it 3 times lol

Silver is a big, healthy boy indeed… And he’s going to get even healthier if he shares a meal with Lilia- *gets sprayed nooo*

Anonymous asked:

WTH is Lilia eating? I thought he was munching on entrails here…also I snack like this, Silver, whachyu tryna say?

It’s just spaghetti~ Ice-cold gross slippery delicious spaghetti!

Silver sounds like someone who had never had spaghetti out of the fried at 3 am in his life before, and it shows. Lilia has to fix that.

Anonymous asked:

never really though t of shipping vil and jake unironically until i saw ur fanart of them- you have a mega big brain and im here for it

Thank you so much, Anon! These two are wonderful together, I am very happy you liked how I draw them <3

Anonymous asked:

https://www.tumblr.com/pugfarts/82974480433/i-made-an-aoba-cake-for-my-wifes-birthday: But Idia.

Yes.

Anonymous asked:

So, it’s the Epel and Rook anon again and I just saw the newest pic on kofi. All I can think of is Rook comforting him but having a creepy, happy look on his face. And maybe later, seeing how vulnerable Epel is, he takes a little detour on the pretense of “comforting” him and….

Another notch in his hunter’s belt.

I’m so sorry, my mind is a dark place.

I am so happy you like this idea so much, Anon! Thank you so so much!

As always, you are completely right. Holding Epel’s shivering body, embracing him so tightly and hearing his intense heartbeat as well as his quiet pathetic whimpers, this is going to make Rook lose track of time for sure. He’ll make sure to comfort the boy in the best way possible~ And leave poor Epel traumatised lol

[all-pacas]

we know what the hospital rumor mill thinks about house, but what do they say about the fellows? especially after the entire hospital finds out that chase the flirt is hooking up with cameron the noble in supply closets?

I think we largely know what people's reputations are, thanks to Amber in 97 Seconds.

Foreman is considered House's protege, which is not a positive. We see in Kids that other doctors and Nurse Brenda find him entitled and annoying. We hear from Cuddy that he is unhireable. He's arrogant, he's unfriendly. He dated a nurse for a while in S3, and she broke up with him because he was a total ass (his romantic Valentine's Day present was "go to college in Boston"; when she was upset he had the all time killer "I am not taking you back if you act like this :(" line, to which Wendy had to point out bitch, I'm upset, I'm not begging for you). In general, Foreman's kinda… socially awkward. He's really good at playing the part, he knows how he's supposed to act, but it's kind of fake, you know? Not in Chase's suck up charm way, but in the way you can kind of tell Foreman doesn't mean it. He's also, uh, very good at malpractice? I mean, they all do it, it's unfair Foreman gets singled out. But he definitely gets caught more. He killed a woman. He ruined a Huntington's Trial. His malpractice is kind of public (which is also probably why he alone gets stuck with the unhireable reputation).

From Amber, we know that a) Cameron has a reputation for compassion and caring and wanting to help people and b) "this is why people find you annoying." We know in S5 for example that Cameron runs community outreach programs, she takes on extra work, she's helpful! But people do seem to find her annoying. My theory is she's sort of like one of those vegans who love to tell you how great being vegan is and how you should be vegan, and you're like Cameron. That's great. I'm glad that works for you. I don't want to do 16 hours of overtime feeding the homeless this week.

As established, Chase is an asskissing nepobaby opportunist who will screw anyone over to help himself. He's a flirt — although (I actually like this) the show actually does show all his hookups as being fairly polite and both-sided, like, there's no "ugh, I can't believe I slept with that fuckboy!"; whenever Chase is shown with a one night stand they're both like "haha what was your name again? lol see ya!" — even in the "three hookup wedding" he's on perfectly good terms with all three of the women after. Which is nice. He's still a dumb whore opportunist, but he doesn't treat women badly. Good for him.

It's a little harder to say what later teams reputations are, because over time the show shifts focus kinda. Park absolutely has a terrible reputation — she's the Weird Resident Who Punched Her Boss. Taub seems to float around inexplicably popular and well liked despite fucking more nurses than Chase does. Kutner was apparently considered enough of a liability that Cuddy tried to draw a rare line to keep him from getting hired. Everyone hated Amber. I feel like Thirteen's reputation is True Neutral: no one knows a goddamn thing about her, but she never does anything to really piss them off, either.

especially after the entire hospital finds out that chase the flirt is hooking up with cameron the noble in supply closets?

I think we know this too! Namely, in Fetal Position, when the news is out, Cuddy and Foreman both make a point of speaking to Cameron and Chase about it. And what they both say is "Chase is gonna break Cameron's heart. Oh no, poor Cameron. She's gonna be so hurt." And in Foreman's case: "And that will be so annoying for me." (Foreman is such a hater and I love him)

And of course the irony is that no, Chase is the one who got hurt. Repeatedly! But it says a lot about people's perceptions of them both. Chase is assumed to be unfeeling and uncaring. Cameron, everyone figures, is probably already head over heels in love. I bet most people thought he seduced her.

[stesierra]

Find the Word tag!

Tagged by @yesireadbooks. The words are: Space, Down, Special and Cry. I'm drawing from Court Phoenix.

I'll tag @mysticstarlightduck and @avrablake. Your words are cancer, death, knife and sweet.

Space AND down

I sat upon my stool for hours, watching the lordly skitter up to the throne like shorebirds in little flocks of three or four. They kept their distance and threw themselves down on the floor. I’d been rude without realizing it, if that was how you were supposed to greet the sagan. Perhaps he had overlooked my impertinence because of the firebird in my arms. Now she perched upon my legs as if I were a throne. At least she didn't sink her ivory talons into me. A real eagle would have.

Sitting there with nothing to do grew tedious, and my head hurt so badly and my muscles ached so fiercely that it was all I could focus on. I was close enough to the sagan to overhear his conversations, but my misery left no room for curiousity.

No room, that is, until Chujulan arrived. She walked in that empty space every else left alone, a sword girded at her hip. She crossed that undrawn line. And her bow to the sagan was a dip of her torso. No more.

The sagan beckoned her closer. When she stood close enough to touch, he said, “Chujulan. How fares our city?”

She said, “She is well. The herd is fleet, the ferd is strong, and her people are not hungry. You summoned me, Father? The ferd awaits your command.”

“I have no need of the ferd tonight. My commands are for you alone.”

She nodded. “Speak them, and they will be done.”

He steepled his fingers on his lap. “I wish you to go and speak with the Judge in my name. That is my will.”

“Of course, Father. What has Behil done now?”

“She has been quiet as of late. I am curious about her reasons. She sends me innocent letters, but no has seen her except the prisoners delivered to her.”

Chujulan planted her feet and squared her shoulders. “And she’s the last thing they see. I will see to it tonight.”

“Learn why she has secluded herself. And bring me answers.” He dismissed her with a wave of his hand, earning another bow from his daughter.

She strode away, her back stiff, but before she could vanish out into the hall, she noticed me sitting with Hes on my lap. A moment later, she stood over me, hands on her hips. She murmured, “There you are. On display, I see.”

Special

When she stopped in front of me, hands set again on her hips, she said, “You’re an elemental child.”

I bristled. “I’m an adult woman. Isn’t that why you tried to recruit me?”

Her humorless smile stung me. “Adult, yes. But you’re an elemental child.”

“I don't know what you're talking about.” The term was unfamiliar.

“A fireling? Born when one of your village men spills his sperm on dying embers?”

I stared at her. “That's not how it works. At all.”

“Found swaddled in ashes after a widow hurls herself onto her husband's pyre?”

“We bury our dead.” And my mother and father were alive and hated me.

She pinched her chin between thumb and forefinger. “I don’t know much about it, I admit. No one has seen one of your kind in a very long time. The landbound claim they hide you from us, but I know scholars who insist that elemental children don't exist outside of the imagination of bored farmers.”

I hugged Hes closer. “Do you believe them?”

A royal eyebrow lifted. “You are currently on fire.”

I glanced down at my ruined clothes and the pleased fledgling igniting them. I admitted, “That’s happened a lot more since Hes showed up.”

“I imagine so. Well, at Skyfire we will have to commission some fireproof clothing.” She nodded once, as if this was easily done.

“Some of your scholars must believe in us, or you wouldn't know what I am.”

She shrugged. “Well, the legends are inconsistent, especially in regards to how you come about. The worst I've heard says your sort are demons.”

“Demons,” I echoed.

“Mmhm. You hide as humans to trick women into wedding you and giving birth to more of your kind.”

“I'm a woman.” Even if I wedded another girl, there would be no pregnancy.

Her eyes crinkled up, and for a moment she could've been any of my older cousins. “So you say.”

“I am a woman.”

She smirked. “Another story says that once upon a time, your ancestors bedded monsters, and their taint sleeps in your blood and wakes every seventh generation.”

“Why seven?”

“It's just what everyone says.”

“Everyone in the city seems to say a lot of stupid things.”

She laughed at me. “If it's better, another claims you're all godlings.”

“It's not better.” Spirits and ghosts were everywhere, all fishers knew that. But none of us were very big on this idea of gods.

She continued, “When you landbound fall on hard times, you pray for food and good weather. And the gods grant it, but only if you agree to raise their bastard offspring.”

This was ridiculous. “First, my parents aren't gods.” Just very, very disappointed in me.

“Not your human ones, of course. The stories are clear.”

“None of them.”

“And second?”

I hadn't actually formulated a second complaint. I bit my lip, staring at the back of Hes' head.

Somehow, the princess’s voice didn't sound mocking. “Are none of those stories even a little right?”

“Not yet,” I said, still stung.

Chujulan's lips pursed, and her arms fell loose at her sides. Then she said, “My mother used to tell me, when she tucked me into bed, of little landbound boys and girls who were born magic.”

Her mother, the empress? I was intrigued in spite of myself. “Did she?”

“She said it was a gift, given when an element falls in love.”

“With who?”

“Perhaps a brave and clever woman. Perhaps a kind and beautiful man. I suspect fire and water would have very different loves.”

I carded my hands through Hes' contour feathers. “That's sweet, princess, but I was born like this. I think we all are.”

Chujulan said, “Of course. It's a blessing, not a courting gift. Fire cannot sire or birth a baby, but it can leave a kiss upon its brow. One of your parents must be very special, indeed.”

I thought of Father, who was clever and kind, nimble with a needle and thread, and always the one to tend the fire. It wasn't what my people believed, but I could see it. It would be easy to fall in love with Father. The thought, and the knowledge that I was leaving without his blessing, hurt. “That doesn’t sound like a city story.”

“It’s not. My mother doesn’t know any.”

Cry

When we reached the city, the deer-herds helped me get down without losing the vulture. I handed my doe off to them and followed the falconers up the ramp.

At the top, I faltered. I waded through deep water, something dragging my limbs to a crawl. The bird in my arms cringed.

I pushed forward, and the sensation vanished. But sweat lingered at the back of neck. No one else said anything, so I kept my mouth shut. It was just one more weird thing about Skyfire.

The vulture became a lead weight in my shaking arms. My hand cramped from holding its head, but if I let go, it would whip around and gouge my eyes out, and Hes would murder it. She still circled, uttering shrill cries. Jealous brat.

Another hard moment struck as we neared the menagerie. For a second, I swam in sand, drowned in rock, and something stuck my feet to the pavement. The vulture tried to thrash, but I held it in place as I stumbled forward. I told myself I had imagined everything as I caught my breath. Nearby, the palace gleamed, red as the vulture’s blood.

Nergi opened the door for me, and I carried the vulture inside, ignoring Hes’ demanding cries. He told me, “Put it down in that corner. We have surgeons who serve the menagerie. They’ll splint the wing and tend those wounds. By tonight, I’ll have an enclosure ready for it.”

“Thank you,” I said, rubbing my tired eyes.

“Go sleep,” he advised. “And get your phoenix under control.”

Easier said than done, I thought. But as I stepped out onto the street, she dived from the sky and landed at my feet, crying sadly.

I shook a finger at her. “You’re trouble. How long have you been able to fly? Did you just enjoy making me carry you around?”

She strutted on the pavement, fluttering her wings, and then leapt at me. I caught her and let her climb onto my arm.

“Next time I go on an outing, you’re staying home,” I told her. “That poor vulture.”

She hissed, unrepentant, and took off again. As I walked back to our house, she circled overhead, watching over me.

Tag list for everything

@anonymousfoz

@moremysteriesthantragedies

@elizababie

@sm-writes-chaos

@bellascarousel

@palebdot

@macabremoons

@the-dragon-chronicler

@teacupsandstarlight

@vorskra

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@fishythewriter

@koala2all

Just chapters and snippets

@da-na-hae

[avimour]

What drew Vaz and Crulexs to their love interests? Was there an instant connection between them, or was it more of a gradual build-up? What's their favorite things about their respective LIs?

Bonus question: Is there anything about their romances that went differently in your canon than it did in-game?

love time love time!! very on point seeing which holiday is coming up!

hmm i'll do a little doodle for each of them as well, just for fun. lost the desire to draw my boys.. sad. maybe ill do some other piece this week

everything under the cut!!

Vaz: Well. You see. To say Vaz had an easy time romancing anyone is absolutely mad men talk. Everywhere Vaz went for comfort, he either ended up being used, failure in general, or turned away for another...even before the whole, losing his memories thing.

All my durges have had a fling with Gortash. So Vaz, naturally, had a thing with Gortash for a time. But uh...well. That thing was incredibly one-sided and Gortash would use it for his own benefit. Vaz never got any pussy or kisses from him, to put it frankly. But he did do a lot of lil missions for Gortash anyways.

Vaz's second fling was with a tiefling named Levi. The two were on the nautiloid together and everything. Levi heard him out on his dark urges and ushered him into doing the Right thing instead of what the urges wanted. It was a match made in heaven! ...Until the tiefling party. Where Vaz clumsily wandered around without an idea what to do, and his dear friend Levi slipped away with Gale instead of him. The next morning he saw them kiss and he went into the seven stages of denial immediately. Both of them ended up as cellmates so...yay!

Vaz's third fling was with Halsin. It uh...didn't go too well. Vaz was pulled in by all the druidic talk and he just wanted to feel normal. He just wanted to feel like a normal druid too. But it didn't work out. They partook in one sexual encounter and it ended up with Vaz crying and a bad experience for the both of them. They didn't talk a lot after it and Vaz practically avoided everyone for days afterwards.

And finally... Vaz's last fling. The Emperor. Yeah, you can probably guess how that turned out. They both managed to get through their sexual encounter though! Vaz enjoyed being safe from his urges inside the dream world (??) with the Emperor. The Emperor enjoyed tightening their bond together so Vaz wouldn't turn on him or, really, convince Levi to turn against him. And just to exert a bit more control over Vaz, the Emperor lured several of their companions to see the aftermath. And then willed away their memories of the encounter. Only to send Vaz into a breakdown a few days later with the thoughts of 'Has he ever wiped my memory?'. He didn't go back for seconds with calamari.

The biggest departure from the original questions EVER!!!!! YIPPEE!!

Anyways, next.

Crulexs: His name is an anagram for cruel sex. This was not on purpose, but I've taken it to heart. Everything about him is related to his 'cruel sex'. He is the embodiment of toxic masculinity. And, in that toxic masculinity, certain types of people are drawn into him.

Gortash was incredibly drawn into him. I have a fic in the works (in my mind) of just how drawn into Crulexs this man was. The big burly scaly cleric who looked down on him? Yeah that got him. He had a big stupid crush on Crulexs that wouldn't go away no matter how many times he tried to crush it (ha). Thankfully, it wasn't unrequited. However he found that out in the worse way possible. With Crulexs kidnapping him and taking him into the Bhaalist Temple in order to wed the both of them together. Under the blessing of Bane as well. What's a little bit of tyranny without a forced wedding to strengthen a union? He would've stayed down in that temple if it wasn't for his bodyguard, Karlach, saving him. (This is a retelling of Persephone's Abduction because i am literally insane.)

Of course, Gortash still saw Crulexs. Just, not bound in the Bhaalist temple and having to do weird blood rituals with him. Wasn't his thing, you see. They're still married, in the Bhaalist traditional manner, whatever the fuck that means.

Unfortunately...it all had to end somehow.

After his betrayal to the hands of Orin, after his memories had all left him, Crulexs was a different man. Even Bhaal saw him differently, though he wasn't...practically looking at him. An avenger against all that was evil, Crulexs roamed the land looking for those to strike down. Along the way, he meet a variety of companions, and specifically, he met Wyll Ravengard, the man who could win his heart.

It wasn't a challenge or anything. Most of the people that knew Crulexs weren't...really wanting to kiss him. The others who did were mostly wanting him because he was..a big, burly scaly paladin. Most, however, were put off by the whole silent and toxic masc bit.

Wyll, however, saw in him a lot more than that. He saw someone with similar ideals to him, and someone who was just as devoted. He managed to spring up more...less toxic masculinity into Crulexs as well. Little poems that Wyll would write hidden in his tent. And would do his best into slipping into the silliest places that Crulexs would find them. Into his boots, into his gloves, into his bedroll. In a book he would pick up, because he picked up every book he found, and skim the pages of.

It didn't take a genius to figure out it was Wyll behind them. And the little poems cleared up some of the dark clouds of Crulexs' soul. He started to actively seek out Wyll while at camp, instead of simply staring into the fire. Began to sit with him as the nights wore on. Sometimes even slept outside his tent like the guard dog he is.

[rlainarin]

/BURSTS THROUGH YOUR WALL LIKE THE KOOL AID MAN/ SIR I GOT QUESTIONS 1, 3, 13 for Angharad and Zevvo my beloveds

9 and 18 for Dianthe and Fenris please and thank! Also biting you

AUGH am bitten

ANGHARAD AND ZEVVO

Who first brought up the option of marriage? Was it an easy topic?

ok ok brought up is a funny one here because they do a really good job getting engaged without actually explicitly saying it. Zev does his whole earring song and dance, Angharad counters with a gift of a bracer which is very dwarf-engagement-coded

and so the first person who actually brings up that they're getting married is Oghren. taking the shit out of the whole idea of marriage and oh oopsydoodle guess we need to actually communicate now. damn it and Leli just let us out of the "TALK ABOUT YOUR FEELINGS" cupboard

Show us their engagement and/or wedding rings!

AUGH ok so. I had a ring that I was going to use with my cosplay for The Earring but it broke. just snapped in two. thankfully the boyf does jewelry so it can and will be fixed but at this exact moment it's not in a photographable state. ANYWAY it's a wreath of embossed gold roses.

the engagement bracer is made by Wade and it's embossed dragon leather with embroidery patterns copying the Dalish Gloves. and it has a hidden knife pocket of COURSE.

Show us their outfits!

ok ok I may come in later and add drawings but I wanna make sure I don't forget this ask and leave it languishing

so they get married with about twelve hours of notice right after the Battle of Denerim at the big party, which makes the outfits kind of thrown together. Leli does her best with giving the grooms flower crowns but fundamentally I think both of them have borrowed a nice coat off a short, butch human noblewoman and otherwise they're just wearing what's clear and intact.

And there's finally a proper occasion for Zevran to wear his nice Antivan leather boots. :)

DIANTHE AND FENRIS

Show us a mood/stimboard of their wedding’s general aesthetic.

Oh I've got better than a moodboard, I've got a whole video clip of their wedding aesthetic!

Did anyone oppose the marriage? Did they speak then, or did they just forever hold their peace?

Running w/ main canon where Dianthe is an Amell (Not That Onetm)and not a Hawke, yeah her family was pretty against it! She was supposed to marry wealthy, someone who would support the family and protect her as an apostate.

But when they flee Kirkwall, Fenris leaves a note that they should take over the old mansion by way of a dowry, and that goes a long way towards smoothing it over.