all the mead

A pretty, full-faced, youthful, playfull lass. —The family quakers, meek and unsuspicious. —Hamilton, thou shalt not tread on this ground —I mark it for my own. Enter not this circle.

Diary of James McHenry June 20th, 1778

I have been laughing at this entry for a solid five minutes now.

Healing Hands (Part 2)

Ivar x Reader
Healing Hands: Part 2 of 2. 8,341 words.
Here’s Part 1 for anyone that missed it.
Warnings: A little angst, a lotta smut. I wouldn’t read this at work ;)
Wow guys, I am so sorry that it has taken me so long to finish this update! I really didn’t mean to keep you all waiting for so long but life kicked my ass a little bit this month. Thank you all so much for your support and all of your kind words, I honestly never expected such amazing feedback. I was so nervous writing for a new fandom but you all have just been so encouraging and so kind. I really hope that each and every one of you enjoys Part 2 and that it lives up to your expectations! Thank you again, everyone!
Tags: @skeletoresinthebasement @peculiarleah @ivartheboneme @theburningspirit  @splendor-e I’m sorry if I missed anyone!

The days that followed Ivar’s cruel rejection were some of the bitterest you’d ever known. You weren’t sure just what to expect from all those hours at the prince’s side but outright exclusion wasn’t something that had even crossed your mind. Everything seemed to be going so well. You and Ivar constantly lost track of time as you engaged in passionate conversations, talking about everything and nothing and whatever was left in-between. You knew Ivar well know, perhaps well enough to call him a friend and you had secretly hoped that he shared these feelings.

You had even started to wonder if Ivar was more than just a friend. Even before that final blissful evening, the chemistry between you both was undeniable. In all of your years of working with patients in all sorts of intimate situations, not one had responded to your touch like Ivar had. Not even the most flirtatious warrior would gasp and whimper in a way that only a lover would yet Ivar practically melted in your hands.

Then, there were the looks. He may have been a man of few words when it came to discussing anything emotional but disappointment was always noticeable in Ivar’s bright eyes whenever you bid him goodnight. Then every morning, that disappointment vanished again when you arrived and exchanged private, flirty stares that were completely missed by Ubbe.

There was no way of really telling where the shy smiles and tantalizing glances were heading but you were certain that they were heading somewhere. That was why Ivar’s rejection hurt even more. You tried to be rational by reminding yourself that you weren’t Ivar’s lover and he had no obligation to explain anything to you but rationality didn’t keep you warm on those cold, lonely nights. 

Keep reading

Return (Pt.1)

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Summary:  (Loki Imagine: Imagine Thanos targeting Loki’s lover to punish him for his failure to get the Tesseract.) Taken from tumblr. Thor finds you during an intense mission with the Avengers. After disobeying Steve’s orders and saving you, Thor is cornered. Who are you? What were you doing there? How did Thor know you? Knowing he has to answer all of these questions, Thor explains everything.

Words: 3447

Read on Ao3:

Thor looked at her with mixed feelings. At first, he felt shock. It came in waves, raising the hairs on his body. He felt confusion and denial. He thought this must be some illusion and went on with the mission. Then he heard her. He heard her screaming his name as loud as she could.

“Thor! Thor please!” Over and over. Disobeying Steve’s orders, he went back for her. He broke her loose, and grabbed onto her tight. Using his hammer, they flew out of there. Back on the Helicarrier, he knew he was going to have to explain. He was going to have to answer questions. Painful ones. He wished he didn’t have to. He wished he didn’t have to say what he knew about this girl, but now was not the time for wishing.

He looked up from his hands where he tried to hide. He sat in a chair next to her. She was completely knocked out. Covered in bandages and a very big blanket, she laid in one of Tony’s personal hospital beds. He bought some just-in-cases, and kept them in a medical wing of the Avengers Tower. Thor looked in front of him. Natasha, Tony, and Steve stood in front of him, waiting. He felt a little scared, but mostly distraught.

“Who is she?” Natasha asked. The question lingered around the room. His shoulders dropped. He felt the weight getting bigger.

“It’s a very long story, Lady Natasha,” Thor replied. He half-hoped he could leave the answer at that.

“Was she your girlfriend before Jane?” asked Tony. He tried to be polite about it, but Tony had his own way of saying things as always. Thor chuckled.

“No, no,” Thor smiled. “Lady Jane is the only woman who has captured my affections completely. This young woman is more of my sister. I care for her very deeply, but not in the romantic sense.” The three Avengers tried to make sense of what Thor was saying. Natasha narrowed in eyebrows out of curiosity. Steve tried side-glancing at Natasha for help. Tony kept talking.

“Thor, I don’t mean to be insensitive, but I think there’s more to this story than you’re letting off,” Tony pointed out. Nat and Steve nodded in agreement.

“You wanted to make sure we brought her back here safe and sound,” Tony walked towards the hospital bed. “We saved a lot of people, but you specifically wanted to bring her back here. Why? I mean, if she is not your girlfriend or anything romantically then who exactly is she?” Thor looked long and hard at Tony, Steve, and Natasha.

“If I tell you who she is, you must promise me to let me explain before taking any action,” Thor’s voice almost sounded like his father’s, like a ruler instead of a friend. The three looked at each other, and nodded in agreement.

“Okay, if she is that important then okay,” Tony said. “Who is she?” Thor cleared his throat and with a very serious voice he said,

“She is Loki’s fiancée.”

After some shouting, some scrambling, and an argument from Tony that was cut short by Nat because Tony said, “Her life shouldn’t be worth that much” and Natasha may or may not have put a knife to his throat and made him swear not to touch her. The four Avengers settled in the living room with some tea except Tony who felt he needed ‘a real drink’ instead. Thor felt their curious eyes on him, and he took that as a cue to start.

“Where to begin,” he sighed.

“How about you start with how you met her?” Natasha’s voice sounded more soothing than usual. She smiled a little, trying to encourage Thor to go on.

“Well,” Thor smiled back finally feeling some comfort. “The first time I met her was when I was with Loki and my friends. We all snuck out of the palace to go and drink at pubs when we were much younger. Lady Sif asked me if she could bring her along her best friend, Lady (Y/N). Fandral agreed immediately because he was dying for more female company. Some planning was involved on Loki’s and Fandral’s parts. They wanted to map out where we should go. My friends, Loki, and I took some horses from the stables and we settled at the first pub while we waited for the girls. Loki was complaining about waiting for them when they came in. Usually, Sif would be in armor, but for this night, she donned a beautiful dress. I will admit I did not want to look away, neither did Fandral or Volstagg. Loki, on the other hand, did not look at Sif at all.

“He was looking at (Y/N). I never seen him so engrossed with any girl before. He had kissed and danced with other girls, but this was different. He looked at her as if she was a book he always wanted to read. Sif introduced all of us to her. (Y/N) smiled with such grace and warmth; she was as beautiful as ever. I remember her first words to me. ‘Sif was right about you. You do look like a hero.” Thor had smiled for a bit allowing himself to return to the memory.

“Sif introduced her to Loki last. You remind me of her, Lady Natasha. Sif was very protective of (Y/N) at that time. She looked like she didn’t want Loki to even breathe the same air as (Y/N). Loki stood up and offered her his seat, but before she could sit down, Sif narrowed her eyes and said ‘Don’t you dare even try’ and sat her next to Hogun. That did not matter though, Loki always gets what he wants.” Thor chuckled.

“How so?’ Steve asked.

“Well, it was only the first pub of the night,” Thor continued with his natural talent of storytelling. “We were all drinking wines and meads, experimenting what tasted better. At the second pub, Fandral kept flirting with Sif, so she was preoccupied while Volstagg, Hogun, and I started a drinking contest with each other. I was determined to out drink both of them even though Volstagg was much bigger than me. No one paid attention to Loki drinking with (Y/N) alone. He whispered little things into her ear and she smiled. He didn’t touch her, but his fingers were always inches away from her. The 3rd pub was extremely crowded. It was so late in the night that many people were drunk, singing songs, and fighting all around us. No one had noticd who we were or how old we were.

“Sif ended up sitting on Fandral’s and my lap. Hogun went home after not being able to hold his own very well, and (Y/N) sat in Loki’s lap. He kept whispering things into her ear, and she would whisper right back. Loki had his arms all over her. Sif didn’t look too happy at what was happening. She asked the pair several times what they were talking about, but neither would reveal the subject. Then, as we went home, the sun was rising. Volstagg carried a passed out Fandral on his horse, Sif was falling asleep on mine. Loki had (Y/N) on his horse. Both of them were drunk and laughing. I remember watching him kiss her as he escorted her home. It wasn’t his first kiss, but it was hers.” Thor smiled at the warm memory.

“What else do you remember about her?” Natasha said. She and Steve became excited to hear more of his memories. Tony stayed back, not yet enchanted by Thor’s words or stories about Asgard.

“So much,” he began. “After the pub night, she was around the palace more. As much as I enjoy Sif’s company, (Y/N)’s company was much more pleasant. She was the complete antithesis of Sif. Where Sif would train for days on end with the Warriors Three and me, Lady (Y/N) would spend her days dancing, reading, and have etiquette training. At balls, she would dance with such grace and ease. Her conversations were always interesting and knowledgable. Once I jumped in one of her ‘famous conversations’ at the wrong time.”

“Was it about something dirty?” Tony asked out of the blue hoping to find interest.

“No, it was about something disgusting, I’m afraid. All I remember is her describing how she cleaned horse shit off the gown she was wearing. She thrived at balls. I did not get to dance with her as much as I wanted to, but when I did, it was always wonderful. Loki would hardly let any other man dance with her. He became very possessive after an incident.”

“Incident?” Steve arched his eyebrow.

“(Y/N) finished her education, and therefore it was time for her to find a suitor, at last according to her parents. At one particular ball, Loki noticed a young man dancing with her for most of the night. He was the son of a respected member of the council. At the end of the night, the young man kissed her cheek and told her how beautiful she was. She blushed. Loki was furious. His face went red, and he kept pacing back and forth until he stormed off. Later that night, (Y/N) came up to me and asked where Loki was. We searched for him, but there was no trace. (Y/N) felt worried and slightly hurt. The next day I hear my father scolding Loki for playing a nasty trick on the councilman’s son.

“What did he do?” Tony smiled, suddenly interested.

“He gave the poor boy a horse’s nose with hooves to match.” The four Avengers laughed out loud, and Tony sat with Steve and Nat to hear more. They shared their drinks with each other and Thor continued on. “Loki would read with her in the library. He drank tea with her every day. He dueled with weaker opponents to make himself look stronger in front of her. They had a very strong friendship. (Y/N)’s famous conversations at balls turned into Loki and (Y/N)’s famous conversations. Everyone who knew them thought they would be a great match for the other. It was very hard to get him to admit his feelings for her.”

“He was scared of rejection wasn’t he?” Steve interjected.

“Yes,” Thor answered right away. “I don’t know why. I tried telling him to just tell her or she feels the same way, but he never believed me. I wanted to tell (Y/N) myself, but then I didn’t have to. My father took us on more dangerous missions and places. An adjacent kingdom was going through a civil war. My father thought it was time for the Warriors Three, Sif, Loki and I to fight in our first war. My mother and (Y/N) were so terrified. My mother argued with my father up and down for two weeks about it. She even threatened to go on a hunger strike, but it was time. We had to do this. Both of them had a very hard time saying their goodbyes. (Y/N) didn’t look Loki in the eye as he said goodbye to her. He misunderstood it as apathy. What I did not know until later was that (Y/N) grew more scared every day for Loki. She would read his favorite works and she wore green hoping it would bring him luck. When we came home, she hugged all of us very hard and crying for joy until she saw Loki.

“She stopped everything and ran to him crying even harder. She grabbed him and kissed him in front of everyone. I think that’s when Loki knew. We had a small celebration that night, and sometime during the middle of it, (Y/N) and Loki disappeared. Fandral found them in the gardens. Sif wanted me to come along and spy on them because after all this time, she did not believe Loki’s intentions to be good. And she was proved wrong. Loki confessed his love for her, and they embraced. It was endearing, and I was jealous.”

“Jealous?” Nat said not believing the words that came out of his mouth. “Of your brother?”

“He had true love, something I did not understand or want yet, but he had it,” Thor continued. “Loki was always much more mature, level-headed, and intelligent than I was. Of course, it would make sense for him to find something like that before I did. But he was happy. They were both so happy after that. In fact, I caught them sneaking into his room that very night. She did not come out until the next morning.”

“You mean?” one of the three said.

“Oh yes, Loki made me promise not to tell Sif or anyone for that matter. He begged me not to, and (Y/N) ran away from his room before anyone could put the pieces together. They were deep in love. The day he asked for her hand was so glorious. It was her name day, and he made an intricate puzzle box that when it opened it revealed a beautiful ring and he recited a poem to go along with it. She said yes, and I gained a sister. There was no one more honorable or more worthy than she was. Everything was so wonderful until the Frost Giants.”

“I’m assuming you’re referring to the time you were exiled here?” Tony asked. “I remember your files.” Thor nodded his head.

“During that time, Loki found out his true parentage, and that Odin would never give him the throne. He seized Asgard as his own, and (Y/N)’s parents became scared of their impending marriage. So, they hid her away. Sif and the warriors three helped, all of them in fear of what Loki would do to her.”

“Do to her? Did he threaten to hurt her?” Nat asked.

“No, he would never hurt her, but I was the only one to believe that. He became more violent. More unhinged. Sif would tell me how (Y/N) would cry every night because she only wanted to help Loki and that he needed her. She didn’t understand that he succumbed to the darkness around him. He sent out parties to find where she was hiding. Eventually, he had her parents thrown in the dungeon because they would not say. Then, our fight happened, and Loki killed himself, or so we thought. (Y/N) became so heartbroken, she considered suicide as well.

“Sif would visit her every day, and her parents had arranged for her to marry someone else. Until Loki was spotted on Midgard.”

“Germany,” Steve said.

“Yes, Heimdall burst into the palace informing everyone about this. Odin immediately allowed me to go to Midgard and try to bring him home. As I left, I had hoped to bring back my brother. What I did not expect was to lose a sister when I came back.”

“She attempted—

“No,” Thor looked to the ground in defeat. “She was taken by Thanos. After Loki failed him, Thanos’ men were seen at (Y/N)’s residence. They took her, and she wasn’t seen again. No one could find her, not even Heimdall. Sif went on a rampage. I have never seen her so angry or so saddened. My heart broke to think my almost sister was taken so suddenly, and I let her slip through my fingers. Loki had no idea until his trial after New York.”

“Loki didn’t know she was taken?” Nat asked. “He had no idea at all?”

“No. I will always remember the look on his face when he found out. He was terrified. However, this did not stop my father from rubbing this loss in his face.”

“And you haven’t seen her since until tonight?” Nat replied.

“Yes,” Thor nodded. “We all assumed she died. That Thanos murdered her as punishment for Loki’s failures. Loki was sick to his stomach for weeks in his cell, or so I am told. To see her here, to know she is alive.” Thor’s voice trailed off.

“What do you want to do now?” Steve asked. “You wanted to explain before we took action.”

“Lady (Y/N) is a kind, loving soul,” Thor said. “I don’t know if she still loves Loki, but please do not place judgment on her. She is good. Please do not punish her because of Loki.”

“Done, but I want to ask her a few questions about Thanos and where she’s been,” Tony took the last sip of his second drink.

“And we must tell Loki that she is alive and here.” Thor ordered, sounding like his father again.

“Do you think that’s a good idea?” Nat said.

“This woman is everything he ever loved. Everything he ever wanted is her,” Thor said. “Before New York, before he found out his true heritage, there was a time where he would have gladly given up the throne and power for her. I love this woman as my own sister, and I am so relived she is safe. Please extend that courtesy to my brother. He deserves to know his love is alive.”

The Avengers took it to Fury, explaining the situation. SHIELD had their say and laid out rules. Loki had to be in chains, escorted by Thor at all times, and he must obey every order given to him. Loki was brought to the Tower somewhat confused, but apathetic. Loki donned some Midgardian-like clothing. He did not know what to expect until he reached his brother’s mournful face.

“Did that old oaf finally die?” Loki’s venomous words made Thor inhale sharply.

“That oaf is our father—

“Your father,” Loki corrected. “So, did he or did he not?”

“This is not about the Allfather, Loki,” Thor tried to explain, hoping his brother would listen. “This is about someone entirely different.”

“Who then?” Loki asked. The chains clinked slightly as he moved. Loki smiled wickedly. “Is it your Jane? Or your friends? Hm?” Thor frowned at Loki.

“This is about Lady (Y/N),” Thor said. Loki froze. The wicked smile deteriorated and anger grew in its place. His nostrils flared. His eyes stared daggers at him.

“What about Lady (Y/N)?” Loki spat. “Do you wish for me to remind you of what I know? Is that why you brought me here? So you can show your little friends how everything is my fault again? Do you wish to gloat how your lover is safe and sound while—

“She is alive, Loki,” Thor cut in.


“(Y/N) is alive,” Thor pointed to the room behind him. Behind a glass wall lay (Y/N). Her hair spread out on the pillow. She breathed steadily, and all cuts seemed to be healed. Her body covered in blankets.

“I found her during this last mission,” Thor explained, hoping to ease the shock. “I don’t know how she got there, but she was there. Loki, she was so cold. Her whole body was ice.” Loki stopped all talking at once. His breathing hitched, and he started walking towards the glass wall. He dragged the chains behind him and studied her. The way she slept, the way she breathed, her hair, her hands, everything. Tears formed in his eyes.

“Thor,” Loki said in a low voice. “I may have caused you pain in the past, even threaten your loved ones, but this? This is cruel. This is a very cruel trick, brother.”

“This is no trick.”

“She died, Thor!” Loki shouted at him. “(Y/N) was murdered! She was taken from her safe abode and was murdered because of me! I failed! This was Thanos’ punishment! I failed him! I murdered her!” Loki’s crying hushed everyone around them.

“Loki,” Thor started. “I thought she died too, but look at her. That is her. I know it is. We found her during a mission. She is alive. I assure you that is her in there.” Thor took his brother’s shoulder and massaged it. Loki pressed his forehead against the glass.

“I have to know. I need to make sure it’s her, please,” Thor looked at Tony and Steve for clearance. Steve immediately nodded his head. Tony exhaled.

“Let him in, Tony,” Pepper said quietly behind him. Tony nodded his head as well, giving in to the pressure. Thor escorted Loki into the room. They both stepped carefully closer to her bed. A steady beep of the heart monitor and Loki’s nervous breathing were the only things that could be heard. He reached the side of her bed, and tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. After the gentle touch, Loki put his hand down. His lip quivered, and suddenly he couldn’t take it anymore. Loki broke down over her, sobbing hard.

anonymous asked:

Have you ever gotten in a drinking contest with the others. Aren't you kinda like Thor and Steve (where they once drank that really fermented wine from Asgard and they weren't more than like slightly tipsy)? Is that at thing?

yes, we do have drinking contests but we play in teams as part of an elaborate drinking game called ‘forget your traumas.’ 

right now the teams are “water-related trauma;” which is tony and steve, “brainwashing & assassins;” which his me, nat and clint, and “anger issues” which is thor and dr banner.

 right now the method of play is some kind of freeze tag? and the floor is lava. there are ping pong balls involved. jarvis keeps track of the rules and tells people when they have to drink. we never know who wins though because we cant agree if winning is the most or the least drunk.

my little lover

okay!! here is the requested floki imagine by @lucifersfavoritedaughter!! thanks so much for requesting and i hope you like it!

ps: helga does not exist in this, it would hurt to much to make her in it. this is a little bit before the rest of the sons are born btw

pps: SORRY IT’S SO FUCKING LONG!!! (pun intended) 

Originally posted by historyvikings

you stood in your hut, looking out of your window excitedly, your heart thudding wildly in your chest.

tonight was the night you had been waiting for, the sacrifice.

for months and months on end you had been talking about nothing but the sacrifice, to anyone and everyone. of course they were bored by it, but not you.

or your wonderfully crazy companion. floki.

though you two were just friends, you couldn’t deny the attraction you felt for him, it had been strong since the day ragnar had introduced the both of you.

but, sadly, friends was all you two would ever be.

you had spent all morning doing your hair just right, it falling in beautiful waves down your back, little braids present here and there, your kohl eye liner perfectly smudged around your eyes, a small gold stripe going down your throat to your chest.

and the white dress that was hugging your body perfectly…….you looked absolutely breath taking.

you heaved a great sigh and walked out of your front door once the sun was set. you walked gracefully and carefully to the hall, your bare feet digging softly into the damp earth below.

you saw that the doors were open wide, people smiling and laughing whilst drinking their mead, all of them looking too excited for words.

but not as excited as you were.

you walked inside and seen ragnar, sitting at his throne, his frown turning into a wide smile when his eyes caught yours.

“(y/n)!, come!” ragnar had called out, his hand motioning you over. you grinned opening your arms wide as ragnar practically ran to you mid-way.

he enveloped you into a tight embrace, his beard lightly tickling your neck.

“how are you, love?. you look beautiful” ragnar said taking in your lovely appearance. you smiled brightly, your teeth glowing in the wonderful candle light.

“i am wonderful, ragnar. and yourself?” you asked, ragnar opened his mouth, but shut it, a knowing smirk gracing his features.

“perfect, love. by the way, brace yourself” ragnar suddenly said making you stare at him confused. not even a second later you were spun around and picked up, arms wrapped around your waist tightly.

you screamed and laughed with delight, the loud giggles behind you made it clear who it was.

“floki!, put me down!” you exclaimed, but couldn’t hold back your loud puffs of laughter. floki set you down, his arms not leaving your waist. he smiled mischievously, his one hand reaching up to tuck a chunk of your lovely (h/c) hair behind your ear.

“are you ready for the sacrifice?, are you ready to please our gods?” he asked, bumping his forehead with yours.

you couldn’t help but lean more into him and moan quietly at his words.

“yes, yes.” you and him giggled together, a look flashed behind his eyes, a look that stunned you silent.


you went to speak, but ragnars loud words caused you both to look away from each other. 

it was time.

everyone gathered outside, ready to watch the sacrifice. tonight we were sacrificing a young man by the name of earl jorg, of course, you had mentioned your name quite a few times, but you were denied every time.

you stood close to floki, hands brushing against each other every time you moved, ragnar walked up the large slab of wood where the young man stood, his body nude except the wrap covering his lower half.

your breaths felt shallow and deep, your heart beating even faster, gut clenching in excitement. floki was extremely giddy next to you, his body practically humming. but his eyes weren’t on the readying sacrifice.

they were on you.

you turned your head, eyes meeting his, something felt different between you two tonight, something along the lines of longing and…desire.

floki then grabbed at your hand and tugged you forwards.

“floki?, what?-”

“ah, ah, ah!, no talking” he said dragging you through the crowed.

“but floki?, the sacrif-”

“no talking, love” he said once again, dragging you away from all the excitement.

you couldn’t help but feel saddened that he was taking you away from something you had been waiting for since last year, but it was floki, nothing was ever boring with floki.

he had taken you deep into the woods, you could barely see the moon through the thick and dense trees. you had listened to him and tayed silent.

then, you saw a bright light up ahead.

your curiosity was reeling by now, your white dress flowing behind you as you both ran even faster.

finally, you made it.

large torches were aligned everywhere in a large circle, surrounding a large white stone table. little animal skulls were also spread around the small clearing.

it was beautiful.

floki let go of your hand and walked forwards, closer to the table, turning to you and giving you a smirk.

“floki?…what is this?” you asked, a breathless tone making floki shiver. he beckoned you over to him, a knife now present in his hand. you walked over slowly, still taking in everything around you.

once you were close enough, floki had grabbed your hand, and tugged you harshly against him.

he raised the glistening knife high to your face, gently scraping it against your cheek, moving behind your head.

of curse you weren’t worried, floki had been nothing but gentle with you since you’d met. floki shocked you when he sliced a long chunk of hair from your head..

he then pushed you down on the stone table, his palm on your stomach, pushing you until you laid flat.

floki walked around the stone table until he was at your head, he grabbed both of your arms and tied them with a thick rope, he tied it loosely so it didn’t hurt you.

“Guð, vinsamlegast blessaðu mig” he spoke, your eyes fluttering closed as his large hands stroked your neck, face and arms softly.

“Vinsamlegast blessaðu þessa konu. Við viljum ekkert annað en að þóknast þér”. you smiled whilst biting your lip, his hands moving  lower to your breasts, his knife in his hand once again.

“Blessa okkur, blessa okkur” you both chanted this time, your eyes still closed as his hands slowly undid the ties on your dress. he slipped it down, lower and lower until it was completely off your body.

you felt like a woman possessed, you didn’t question anything, you wanted this to happen to you.

he placed the dress under your head, as a pillow, and walked away. he walked over to a small pen over near a tree. he came back a moment later carrying a hen. it was clucking softly in his arms, your excitment grew as you realized what was happening.

your heart felt ready to fly out of your chest at this moment. he climbed on top of the stone table, straddling your thighs.

floki closed his eyes, holding the hen over his head, his white dress shirt hanging off of him ,his stomach visible in the torches light.

your nipples were hard as a cold breeze passed by, you were not shy at all in front of him, it all felt completely natural being exposed to him.

“Ég fórna þessu dýri, í von um að þóknast þér og launað stað í Valhalla, með þessari konu við hliðina á mér. Vinsamlegast hafðu tilboð mitt”.

as the last words left his slow moving mouth, he sliced the hens neck open.

blood splattered all over the both of you. you giggled lightly, the hot blood pouring all over your cold body making you arch up, head thrown back.

floki hummed lowly, throwing the hens lifeless body aside laong with the knife, and took his shirt off.

he leaned down lower, and pressed his body against your naked one, blood smearing off of you and on to him.

you stared into his eyes, a strong almost powerful feeling rushing between you both. it felt, like, all eyes were on you both and you were preforming a dance.

he rubbed his hand along your stomach and and gathered some blood on his fingers. he then started tracing precise lines all across your body.

“Ég bið um vernd“ he said, finishing his first rune. you looked down and seen the beautiful mark across your left thigh. he started on more and more.

his other hand moved down and pulled down his pants. you couldn’t help but look down at his painfully hard prick, he was so thick, so big.

you couldn’t tell if you were wet, or if it was the blood.

he moved up, licking a long stripe from your chest, up your neck, and to your cheek, clearing it of blood. he then stopped and was staring at your mouth.

he pressed your mouths together so roughly, his bloody tongue slipping between your lips, licking the roof of your mouth.

you could feel the breeze around you both picking up, but the air wasn’t cold anymore, it was hot.

you wrapped both bloody and rune covered legs around his waist, tugging him closer to you. he ran both hands up your body and gripped your arms, placing his head between them both.

“Ég fórna ánægju minni fyrir yður, guðir mínar“, he slid inside you.

though it was dark, you could see blinding white lights above. floki was chanting as he started to thrust roughly inside you, your body moving up and down with every jerk of his hips.

you moaned so loudly with every thrust, flokis chants became grunts and loud groans of pleasure. you couldn’t help but move your hips with him.

“unh! floki!” you cried as he started to go faster and faster. you could feel power and more and more euphoric emotions coarse through you. you could practically feel the gods blessing you.

floki stopped chanting and went even faster, you could hear him slip inside, that sound causing you to throw your head back and cry even louder. the feeling was all to much, by now you were sobbing and tears were spilling from your eyes.

he reached a hand .down and smeared blood on your clit.

“please, please yell for me, yell for our gods” floki moaned out, pressing a hot open kiss to your red and already swollen lips.

you felt as if you were in valhalla, a perfect nirvana in which only you and floki existed. you listened to him, you cried for him, begged him, scratched him, bit him, made love to him.

you would sacrifice yourself for him.

you could feel yourself come closer and closer to the edge. you could feel the gods watching as he slid himself in and out of you, over and over, your name sounding like the most perfect sin.

you clenched several times around him when he sucked on your neck, your pulse pumping wildly under his lips.

“floki! i-i!-” you were cut off as floki harshly moved your body up, him on his knees whilst he held your body above him, you whole body completely in the air, him still fucking you.

“cum, cum for me, sacrifice yourself for me” he moaned, the second time you came down on him, you released, your orgasm hitting you hard.

you cried so loudly that you knew for a fact that everyone at the hall heard you. floki held you still as he came, his hot spurts of cum coating your womb, it felt so hot, so dirty, so good.

in the background you heard thunder, felt the shock waves of the lightning, you could feel thor smiling proudly down at you both.

as you both sat there, him still inside you, the realization of what you both just did sunk in.

you could feel the feeling of being watched fade slowly, the  powerful feeling leaving along with it.

“f-floki?” you asked, voice cracking from all the screaming, your tears of pleasure dried upon your cheeks. floki looked at you in that moment, his eyes glowing, the blood on his neck and chest making you wet once again.

“what is it, Ást?” he asked, a small smirk on his face.

“what does this mean, now?, what are we?”.he looked at you like you had just prayed to the christian god, like you were absolutely insane.

“what do you mean?”.

“is this…it?, after we leave here are we done?” you hoped not, you hoped floki would take you, love you…maybe marry you one day.

floki giggled and leaned his head  against yours.

“of course this is not it, you are my woman” he said, kissing your lips softly.

“i am not done with you, not now, and not ever” he whispered, still giggling like a mad man. you kissed him, wrapping your arms around his neck likc a snake, tugging him even closer.

“my little lover”. 

hope you like it and if ya don’t i’ll delete it!! thanks for the request @lucifersfavoritedaughter!!!

translation:  Guð, vinsamlegast blessaðu mig: “gods, please bless me”

translation:  Vinsamlegast blessaðu þessa konu. Við viljum ekkert annað en að þóknast þér: “please bless this woman, we want nothing but to please you”

translation:  Blessa okkur, blessa okkur: “bless us, bless us”

translation:  Ég fórna þessu dýri, í von um að þóknast þér og launað stað í Valhalla, með þessari konu við hliðina á mér. Vinsamlegast hafðu tilboð mitt: I sacrifice this animal, hoping to please you and secure a place in Valhalla, with this woman next to me. Please accept my offering”

translation:  Ég bið um vernd:  “i ask for protection”

translation:  Ég fórna ánægju minni fyrir yður, guðir mínar: “I sacrifice my pleasure to you, my gods”

translation: Ást  “love”.

Officer Benny and Characterisation in Stealth

There’s a very special NPC in Thief II: The Metal Age. In the dimly-lit games room of the Truart Estate, surrounded by the discarded playing cards and abandoned dartboards of the recent party held by the Sheriff and his debaucherous toff friends, a lone drunken City Watch officer disconnectedly rambles to the barmaid on duty. His name is Officer Benny, and I love him.

“I can’t believe that s-some (hic) taffer went and spilled mead all over that rug!” he yells as you approach unseen, his model swaying unsteadily in a dramatic display of intoxication. The barmaid, clearly worn out by a harrowing work shift, sighs wearily.

“Benny… you spilled the mead on the rug,” she explains patiently. “Anyway, someone is on the way to clean it up already.”

“But you don’t understaaand!” Benny wails, now clearly, inexplicably on the verge of tears. “These (hic) taffers have no respect for such… b-beautiful things!

Around this point, it’s likely that you’ll start to tune out and skulk around in the gloom, looking for the telltale glint of loot to funnel into your pockets. Stacks of coins and rings litter the gaming tables, tempting you to sneak a hand under the hanging lamps. One of Karras’s Children—a hunchbacked steam-powered automaton with a head like a brass football —clanks around the room, mindlessly praising its creator to the heavens. It’s not much of a threat, but it’s certainly an annoying little contraption. One water arrow to the boiler grate usually does the trick.

“Benny, I think you’ve had too much to drink. Aren’t you supposed to be on duty?”

“Hah. So what if I am, huh?” he says, sounding more than a little defensive. “Anyways, I work mm-better when I’m drunk. It makes me fearless! If I see a bad guy, I’ll just point my sword at him, and saaaaaay… HEY, BAD GUY!”

You freeze, momentarily worried you’ve been spotted trying to snaffle the discarded goblet from beside the fireplace. Benny continues with his charade, utterly oblivious.

“You’re not s’posed to be here! G-go home or I’ll stick you with my sword ‘til you go ‘Ouch, I’m dead!’ Ah-hah-hah-hurgh!” He makes an indescribable sniffing, gurgling, chuckling noise, and momentarily falls silent. “See? Ain’t no one gonna be messin’ with ol’ Benny.”

“Whatever, Benny. I think you should sleep it off. No more mead for you.”

In the grand scheme of things, it’s a fairly trivial exchange: it doesn’t tie into some larger arc, it doesn’t impart any useful information about objectives or security system vulnerabilities, and neither Officer Benny nor the barmaid will ever be seen again. Benny’s emotional ping-ponging is unconvincing at best, and while his delivery certainly isn’t lacking in vigour, the only character in the room with exceptional voice acting is Garrett, the Master Thief; the one surreptitiously pocketing everyone’s gambling winnings during this exchange. And yet, Benny’s rambling accomplishes something very special. It’s the perfect, emblematic example of a quality present throughout the Thief games; one that shapes how we approach them, and in turn, the experiences they provide.

Thief II gives you a sword. Not a discreet little knife, fit for a slippery cutthroat, but a proper blade; the kind for lopping off soldiers’ limbs on a muddy, arrow-strewn embankment. It’s a silent acknowledgement that you may have to kill men, not in a surprise scuffle where you jump them from behind the bins, but in a full-on fight with multiple assailants. It’s the kind of thing you defend yourself with when things are rapidly going downhill and there’s nowhere to run; a tool for when the halls are filled with the sounds of alarm bells and clattering jackboots. In the right hands it can be quite effective, and it’s entirely possible to hack n’ slash your way through a legion of aggravated soldiers, provided they’re courteous enough to approach you in a narrow corridor or something.

Something doesn’t add up here, does it? Stealth needs reasons for you to stealth, so to speak. There have to be incentives to keep you in hiding, and those incentives usually start with some sort of punishment for being caught. You’re supposed to be outmatched and outgunned, or at the very least, have some higher-level motive for not wanting to be seen. If Garrett can accomplish his goals by going where he pleases and stabbing everyone who looks at him the wrong way, what’s stopping him, really?

Well, it’s kind of a dick thing to do, of course, but gamers have never been above murdering NPCs for slightly inconveniencing them. It’s also a flat-out fail state on many missions if you attempt them on a higher difficulty setting, but by the time you get around to them you’ve almost certainly put the idea out of your head long ago in any case. Dishonored, Thief’s darling modern protégé, would invisibly bump up the Chaos meter—a hidden metric that determines whether Corvo’s been naughty or nice—but Thief itself has no such system, and other than occasionally dropping remarks along the lines of “remember, murdering people is for poser scrublords”, does little to impress upon you the moral wrongness of your actions. A corpse is functionally identical to an unconscious body—indeed, were it not for a single line of HUD text, they’d be impossible to differentiate at all—and sure, people might be a bit more screamy if you clobber them over the head with a blade rather than a blackjack, but what does that matter if you’ve already established you’re not interested in being quiet?

No, Thief II chooses instead to work with characterisation. Who, of the people you encounter throughout its missions, are your enemies? Not the tired watchmen trudging through the halls on a cold evening; not the harmless peasants, trying to prosper in an industrial revolution even as it crushes them between its wheels; not even the Mechanist underlings, suckered into a fad cult and set to work fulfilling Karras’s insane agenda. Your foes are far away, clinking glasses in rooms full of light and music, and most of them will never meet you face-to-face. What direct quarrel do you have with the guards who patrol the game’s moody locales, besides the fact that they’re between you and your goal?

Right. They’re not your enemies, so Thief doesn’t characterise them as enemies. Engendering sympathy to discourage murdering NPCs is hardly a novel concept, but Thief’s approach stands out, primarily because it’s less about pre-emptive guilting and more about subtle humanisation. While you creep around behind their backs, guards will hum, whistle, recite passages, moan about the cold, mumble to themselves, even wonder aloud when they’re getting dinner. You’ll find guards cracking jokes, trash-talking each other’s employers, discussing financial management, complaining about the weather, worrying about being replaced by the new-fangled mechanical eyes, and a thousand other ordinary things totally unrelated to the here-and-now of their work shift. They’re not goose-stepping around shouting “boy, I sure hope nobody stabs me in the back while I’m pacing back and forth, how would my wife and three children ever survive on the streets without a loving father like me?”; they’re just… well, bored, usually. Wouldn’t it be terrible to have to cut down a person like that, just because they made the mistake of investigating some footsteps a little too closely? Thief makes you want to stay unseen, not for your own sake, but for the sake of those who might see you.

And Officer Benny? He’s the epitome of this humanisation. Not only is he drunk, chatty, skiving off work and chewing the scenery with an unprecedented level of unhinged abandon, but through his babbling, he offers an insight into his attitude. There’s no black, tarry pit of hatred boiling away somewhere in him, fuelled by some personal vendetta, waiting to bubble over in fury at the sight of a wayward miscreant; he’s just doing what he’s supposed to. Benny sees himself as the cop in the proverbial cops and robbers: a figure of authority in a simplistic world, out to stop the scoundrels and ruffians in a game where everyone mutually agrees on the rules. His inebriated cry of “HEY, BAD GUY! You’re not s’posed to be here!” is born of this position, announcing what he sees as incontestable truths, spoken more out of convention than anything else. And what’s his ultimatum? Go home, or get stabbed. Go home. Even faced with someone absolutely, undeniably in the wrong, in his morally black-and-white world, his first thought is of telling them to scarper; to leave peacefully, without accountability or interrogation. He’s not smart, or nuanced, or even—if you catch his attention—particularly true to his word, but Officer Benny’s attitude is charming in its simplistic naivety, devoid of real malice or antagonistic ideals. For that, I could no more swing my sword at him than kick a puppy, and that’s why he holds Thief II’s formula together—along with countless other watchmen, guards and Mechanists.

Thanks, Benny. I hope your hangover wasn’t too rough.

Le scrolling through holby spoilers:

Hold up a Fuckin Minute™ is that?…


Cancer - The Crab

Element: Water
Modality: Cardinal
Ruler: Moon
Exaltation: Jupiter
Phrase: “I care.”
House: 4th
Body parts: Breasts, breastbone, stomach, digestive system, lower ribs, womb and pancreas.
Water Trine: Cancer, Scorpio, Pisces
Cardinal Square: Aries, Cancer, Libra, Capricorn
Opposition: Capricorn
Positive traits: Caring, Romantic, Maternal
Negative traits: Panic-stricken, Overly-sensitive, Clingy
Quote: “Never believe that a few caring people can’t change the world. For, indeed, that’s all who ever have.” - Margaret Mead

It Ain’t Me

Bucky x Reader
WC 852
Warnings ANGST. Breaking up.
AN Jesus, this hurt to write. Like… I kinda feel nauseous as I wrote it. I’m sorry. I’m really sorry. The inspiration came to me from the Kygo and Selena Gomez song “It Ain’t Me” particularly the following lyrics and I could just picture it (plus, you know, drawing on personal memories)

I had a dream
We were sipping whiskey neat
Highest floor, The Bowery
Nowhere’s high enough
Somewhere along the lines
We stopped seeing eye to eye
You were staying out all night
And I had enough
No, I don’t wanna know
Where you been or where you’re goin’
But I know I won’t be home
And you’ll be on your own
Who’s gonna walk you through the dark side of the morning?
Who’s gonna rock you when the sun won’t let you sleep?
Who’s waking up to drive you home when you’re drunk and all alone?
Who’s gonna walk you through the dark side of the morning?
It ain’t me

You woke up from another bad dream shivering. Instinctively you turned to your right before the harsh memory of how he was no longer there came crashing back to you bringing back that familiar ache in your chest.

Absentmindedly, you rubbed at it, as if you were willing the ache to go away, wondering if it ever would.

You knew you and Bucky were from different worlds, he was an Avenger you were a project manager. But somehow, the two of you made it work. He pursued you even though you argued that it would never work, his long hours and constant missions meant you went days, sometimes weeks, without seeing each other, but he persisted and eventually broke down your walls, And look at me now, you thought darkly, holding yourself tightly turning away from where he used to spend his nights.

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