fictional marriage


Right, so I know I haven’t posted anything on my over-sized WIP since April, but here I am starting another fic that I have absolutely no business getting into. At least this one should be shorter than the other (famous last words). Sorry.

Title: Mis-Matched
Rating: M (this is subject to change at the whim of the author’s muses)
Characters: Loki, Sigyn, Frigga, Theoric, and various supporting OCs
Description: This is an attempt to fill the propmt requested by @someillplanetreigns (and now I can’t even tag you!): “you asked for prompts and pairings - I would like to humbly beg for more Logyn? I don’t have a great prompt, but this odd thought is in my head about a way to make the comic plot about Theoric and the marriage into something about marriage by proxy? Maybe something like Loki has the duty of proxy-marrying Sigyn cos Theoric’s in the army, and totally plays everyone by going the whole hog and appearing as Theoric, but then Sigyn, who thought Theoric was dull as ditchwater and Loki is… well, y’know, Loki.”
I’m not sure this is precisely what you wanted, so I apologize in advance for my wayward muses – Loki does what he wants.
Chapter: 1 of 2?
Acknowledgements: thank you @icybluepenguin for serving as one of my favorite institgaors and sounding boards – you rock!


Mis-Matched, Part 1

Herr Braggison loomed over Sigyn as she slunk down lower into the chair, nose buried deep in her book, brown hands clutching the pages tighter as he moved closer.

“Sigyn — I just received a letter from the All-mother.”


“Apparently, the fighting at the front has become entrenched.”




“Put the book down and look at me when I speak to you.”

Sigyn abruptly dropped the large hardback with a whack onto the desk, folding her hands demurely as she smiled up angelically at her guardian.

A dark scowl passed over his face before he began again, “I have just received a letter from the All-mother that tells me the fighting has become entrenched at the front. As such, Theoric will not be granted leave to attend your upcoming nuptials.”

“Oh really?” Suddenly Sigyn was all attention, back straight, eyes bright.

Herr Braggison’s scowl deepened. “As you know, there is a limited time during which you must be married, or the contract must be annulled or re-negotiated.” Sigyn nodded and a little smile began to blossom across her face.

“As a result, we will have to fulfill the contract by proxy.”


Her guardian flinched, then frowned once more. “Yes. There is a legal provision that allows for marriage by proxy. Thankfully, the All-mother has offered to send a representative from the court who can serve as a stand-in for your intended spouse, after which you will go to court with him to serve the queen until Theoric can return from the hostilities. In this way, the contract will be fulfilled. No fuss. Everything perfectly legal. No re-negotiations necessary. Neither will we be forced to seek out another candidate. You see? Everything is taken care of. In another month, I will have completed my legal obligations as your guardian by providing you with an appropriate husband of suitable political standing, and you will no longer have to endure my presence.”

Sigyn rose out of her chair. “Wait just a minute …”

“No. no. no. You and I have both been anxious to get rid of each other for years, and now here’s your chance. Theoric is a highly-respected officer is His Majesty’s army with excellent political connections. It’s a marriage much better than anything you could have hoped to get had your own family been in charge of the negotiations. I will not put this alliance at risk just because your intended can’t keep a schedule.”

Herr Braggison paused at this point long enough to line up Sigyn’s book precisely with the edge of the table. “You will be married by the end of this month, and go off to live under the protection of the All-mother until your husband gets back from the war. Either way, you will be out of my house! You. Your books. Your seider. Your temper. Your … disorder … your …” And here he looked her up and down waving his hands around in the air before spitting out, “everything! The delegation from court will arrive one week prior to the ceremony. End. Of. Discussion.”

And even as Sigyn drew breath for a reply, he turned on his heel and stormed out of the library, leaving her fuming.

“Ohhhhaaaaahhhhrrrgh! My ‘everything,’ is it? My evil alien outlander contamination, you mean! Go fuck a goat, Iric! I never signed that cursed contract! You think you’re so clever, getting everything lined up a month before my majority so it wasn’t necessary!”

Sigyn flung the chair backwards before she began pacing about the room. “A month! A month and then I’ll be privileged to sit around with the All-mother’s handmaidens doing needlework until my eyes cross and listening to a bunch of insect-brained idiots gossip about big, blond musclebound, testosterone-poisoned bachelors who have rocks for brains. And then, whenever my husband returns triumphant from the battlefield, I will be expected to take up housekeeping like a meek little domestic pet and cater to the whims of my own personal rock-headed Einherjahr! Oh, look at my lovely brown-skinned alien — isn’t she exotic? If I weren’t ready to burn this house down and be rid of you, Iric, I would set fire to those contracts myself! What happened to the spinster option? Why could there not be a clause in the papers for that? Why marriage? And why him? Dearest Norns, he is so boring! And stupid! And … Aesir!”

But the dictates of her father’s will were explicit, Sigyn was the legal ward of her guardian until she was suitably married. Period. There was no spinster clause. No femme sole provision. Only marriage.

When the delegation arrived, she was supposed to be there. “Supposed to,” being the operant phrase. She was not. She was not there to greet them in the grand hall as they entered. She was not there for the state dinner that evening. She did not show for the formal brunch the following morning. Instead, Sigyn went out to an old, disused greenhouse and started target practice, pointing at tiny widows in succession and creating a lovely pattern by throwing runes at individual panes and shattering them. Sigyn filled her lungs with the ozone after-burn of her seider as she went.

K-pish! “That’s for my mother for getting herself knocked off by that stupid wizard!”

K-pish! “That’s for my father for drawing up that ridiculous contract!”

K-pish! “That’s for Herr Braggison for being such a money-grubbing accountant of a negotiator!” She inhaled deeply.

K-pish! “That’s for the All-mother who refuses to nullify that stupid-ass contr-“

“Good morning, Lady Sigyn!”

“Ahhh!” Sigyn jumped a good six inches off the ground and fired off flash of blue seider that was just barely deflected by a green shield thrown up by her visitor.

“Goat’s piss—I’m so sorry!” And then just as quickly she covered her mouth when she realized who he was. “Hel! I mean, Sorry! Shit.” She slapped her forehead. “Oh, your majesty, I so very sorry, are you hurt? You startled me … I mean, I had no idea you were part of the delegation. I didn’t … I’m so very sorry. Are you hurt? Oh Norns, this is terrible.”

Sigyn hastily bent into a deep curtsy and lowered her head. “I’m so sorry!”

She maintained her obeisance for several long moments and grimaced as she thought she heard him make some vague noise of disapproval, but then the noise shifted a bit, and she suddenly realized he was laughing.

She scowled and jerked up her head. “Are you laughing at me?”

He was laughing. It started as an almost silent chuckle as he tried to suppress it, his shoulders shaking ever more violently until he was full-on laughing, smile wide across face. Her scowl deepened for a moment, but then she couldn’t help but smile back, and before long she broke into giggles of her own.

A full minute passed like this before the prince closed the distance between them and reached out to help her off her knees with one hand and wipe his eyes with the other.

“Oh, by all that’s blessed, you should have seen the look on your face! I should have loved to capture that image forever!”

“Your majesty, I really am so sorry. No one has ever followed me out here. I never expected someone to show up, least of all you, and I was, well, preoccupied.”

He looked up at her handiwork. “I can see that. Quite an inventive way to work out your frustrations.”

Sigyn blushed deeply when she remembered what she had said. “Ohhhh! You heard that, didn’t you? Please don’t say anything. I’m already on the verge of … well, I guess I don’t know what Herr Braggison would do to me at this point — permanent confinement until the contract is signed, I suppose, so I don’t embarrass him any farther? And the queen … I know it’s not her fault. A contract is a contract and can’t be unwritten. I’m just. No. I didn’t mean it. It’s fine. Really. It’s all good.” And she folded her hands and smiled a beauty pageant smile that looked very nearly convincing.

Loki nodded slowly. “Well, I won’t mention it, if you like.”

She let out a breath she’d been holding. “That’s very gracious of you, your majesty.” She dipped a tiny curtsey once more and her smile softened into something more natural.

In response, he flashed her a smile that could easily have turned her into a pile of goo had it not been for the words that followed. “Please, call me Loki, after all, we are going to get married next week.”

“Oh yeah, “married”. Ha ha.” Her smile abruptly turned brittle and she sobered considerably, reminding herself, Not flirting. Off the market. Big tag marked SOLD! And Loki backed off with raised hands.

“Sorry.” He raised an eyebrow. “I gather you aren’t thrilled at the prospect?”

The beauty pageant smile returned. “Oh no, it’s a great privilege. Theoric is an excellent match. My guardian has worked very hard to ensure an advantageous contract, and I’m grateful that you’ve agreed to serve as a proxy to ensure the terms are fulfilled.”

A smirk spread over Loki’s face. “Did you memorize that speech?”

Her eyes looked slightly ill at that that, but the smile didn’t waiver and she didn’t answer. Loki inhaled and he backed off once more, pursing his lips as he concluded, “Right. An excellent match.”

An uncomfortable pause followed until Loki finally started up a new topic, “I was unaware, Lady Sigyn, that you practiced seider. Have you studied long?”

“Oh! Well! It’s mostly self-taught. Mother had just started my lessons when she passed away, so I’ve had to rely on the books she left in the library. That’s the one argument I won when father’s estate was cleared out—I managed to keep control of nearly her entire library. I’m afraid I’ll never be a master of the craft like she was, but I’ve managed pretty well, for all that.”

“You have her books? I wonder if you would let me take a look while I’m here.”

“I would be honored Prince Loki.”

“Loki. Just Loki.” And he extended his elbow to escort her back to the house.

She hesitated a second before resting her hand in the crook of his elbow. “Thank you, m’lord. Just Loki, then.”


Later that night, Loki stood in his room and reached out to draw a set of runes on the mirror, eyes moving deliberately as they followed the green shimmer as it creeped in from the edges of the frame, turned slowly to gold, and then cleared to reveal the face of Frigga, All-mother.

Loki inclined his head, “Good evening, Mother. It is good to see you.”

Frigga offered a wry smile as she replied, “Good evening to you, as well, Loki. How has your ambassadorship fared today? Did you finally manage to greet Theoric’s intended?”

“I did, indeed.” Loki returned her smile. “I found her out in an old greenhouse knocking out window panes with her seider.”


“I barely missed getting winged myself when I startled her.” He snickered. “Why did you not warn me of the danger I would face?”

“I had no idea she practiced seider. She was so young when her mother passed, I assumed that she never trained.”

“Apparently she is self taught. Is that even possible?”

“Not unheard of, I suppose, but certainly rare. How did you find her — will the marriage suit, do you think?”

“Do you wish my honest answer, Mother, or a diplomatic one?”

“Loki,” she chided.

Loki’s face soured. “Frankly, I can’t imagine a more poorly made match. She is bright, well-read, quick-witted, and blunt, whereas Theoric is, well—none of those things. They will make each other perfectly miserable. I can’t imagine why he would seek out such a match, unless she’s  …”

Loki read the warning on his mother’s face immediately, “ahhhh, of course, unless she’s rich.” He paused. “She is, isn’t she? He’s to get a big, fat dowry.”

“Shush, Loki. Everything has already been arranged. If the couple are pleased enough with the match to sign the contract, there is nothing to be done against it.”

“I’m not entirely sure she is. What does she get out of this arrangement?”

“Out of her guardian’s house, I suppose. He has certainly made no secret of the fact that she has been a difficult charge. I believe she is anxious to cut those ties as soon as she can.”

“By marrying Theoric?” He asked dubiously.

“As near as I can remember, the terms of the wardship dictate that she cannot leave her guardian’s care until she marries. It’s an old fashioned arrangement, but it cannot be altered.”

“But … Theoric?”

“Loki—it is not your place to approve or disapprove of the match. You are there only to ensure the contract is fulfilled before the terms are up. There must be mitigating circumstances that lead her guardian to believe that another match might be difficult to attain, or perhaps difficult to attain with such advantageous conditions. Marriage negotiations can be complicated, especially for orphans like Sigyn.”

“Like Sigyn.”

“Yes, like Sigyn.”

“You mean outlanders.”

“Yes. People prefer …” And here Frigga had the decency to hesitate and even blush a bit.

“Their own kind.”

“Well, yes. It’s tricky.”

“Right.” His face had drawn into a deep scowl by that point, but knew she was right. Aesir are insular and slow to accept anything, or anyone, different.  But Theoric! That imbecile. She’s wasted on him.
The Course of Honour - Avoliot - Original Work [Archive of Our Own]
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
By Organization for Transformative Works

When Jainan arrived on Iskat to represent his home planet in a diplomatic marriage to Imperial Prince Taam, he was naïve enough to hope the match would work. Taam knew better. Five years later, his confidence shattered, Jainan is released when Taam dies in an accident, only to be faced with another marriage to help salvage his treaty. Jainan understands how the real world works now; but Prince Kiem - the cheerful, scandal-prone darling of the Iskat celebrity magazines - keeps breaking all the rules he’s learned.

Looking for a long, m/m arranged marriage love story in which space princes awkwardly fail to communicate but help each other get over past trauma anyway? What a coincidence, I have one right here. Not looking for one? I have it here anyway! Please take it away, I need to stop tweaking it, I have to go outside at some point this year. Updates at least weekly, usually twice a week!

What is it that causes us to fall in love? We are met with those first, initial glimpses– a kind of curiosity, a longing for that which is both familiar and unknown in the other. And then comes the surprise of discovery; we share certain aspirations, certain appreciations, and that which is different excites us. Before each other, we are moved to bravery and we come to reveal more and more of ourselves, and when we do, those very traits that caused us some embarrassment or shame become beautiful in ways we did not understand before, and the entire world becomes more beautiful for it. There are, too, those intimate and nearly primitive stirrings, the scent of the neck, the delicious tremble of skin and breath. Yet for all their pleasures, they are as tenuous as light and air, and demand no fidelity.

And then there is this: Does not love depend on some belief in the future, some expectation beyond the delight of the moment? We fall in love because we imagine a certain life together. We will marry. We will laugh and dance together. We will have children.

When expectation falls to ruins, what is there left for love?

—  Eowyn Ivey, To The Bright Edge of the World

Future Mrs. Stark - 30 Day Challenge - Day 2

Word Count:828
Prompt: Arranged Marriage AU
Tony Stark x Reader 

 I was going to do Bruce Wayne for this one, but changed my mind to Tony afterwards because he’s a lot less broody. I loved this idea and will definitely be adding more parts to “Future Mrs. Stark” later on! 

“So basically you’re telling me that for my sixteenth birthday, you’re giving me an arranged marriage?” You exclaimed. You glared down at the offensive documents your parents had just presented you. A gold string was tied around them and they’d been encased in an impeccably wrapped shirt box. It clearly wasn’t what you had expected.

“Don’t be so dramatic.” You looked up at your mother just in time to see her roll her eyes. “The term ‘arranged marriage’ is antique! You make it sound as if we’ve traded you off for a cow and a life time supply of grain!” She wasn’t wrong that the idea sounded antiquated, nor were you wrong for calling out the situation as it was. “We just want to make sure that when you’re old enough, you have a husband who can provide for you the way we have.”

“Frankly I don’t see why you’re so upset.” Your father growled, his arms now folded angrily over his chest. He puffed at the cigar in his mouth when he spoke. “You and the Stark boy are always off gallivanting together! At least now there will be some honesty to it.”

“Because he is my friend not my…” You couldn’t even choke out the word “husband”.

“Howard and Maria didn’t have any trouble getting Anthony to sign them.” Your mother reached over and plucked the documents from their box. She then untied the gold chord they were wrapped in and handed them back to you. Sure enough your best friend’s signature was scrawled across the bottom.

“Mom, Dad, I’m sorry.” You smiled, giving them your best fake apology. Inside you were fuming. You expected this type of nonsense from your parents by now but Tony was suppose to be different. “I’m going to the Stark’s now to talk over the formal arrangements.” With the contract gripped tightly between your fingers you headed outside three spacious mansions down to the Stark residence.

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A Story of Intellectualizing an Affair

“Her Thirty-seventh Year, An Index” by Suzanne Scanlon

Recommended by The Iowa Review

Issue No. 258


You tell him that you are writing a story about him. You ask if he’s heard the one about Flannery O’Connor and the young and handsome textbook salesman.

Read the full story on Electric Literature.

You Were Always Mine, Chapter 15

AU Tom Hiddleston - Romantic, Historical Romance, Victorian Fic. 
Based off the imagine; ‘Thomas spying on you after your divorce and doing anything to get you back. Including threatening your new beau.’ credits go to the lovely ladies at Link to the imagine here….

Chapter number: Chapter 15
Author: Punk-in-doc
Triggers/warnings: Angst. Wounds, graphic mentions of past abuse. poor Vianne, she’s really having a rough time of it. Thomas, as ever, is lovely. And Dr. Erik Harriden proves himself a worthy ally.

Dr. Harriden stalked, in long strides, along the hotel corridors. His mood was somber, and his temper was shadowed with both concern and rage in equal measure. His arm was braced tightly downwards with the heavy weight of his medical bag. His rude awakening he had considered slightly less so, when the messenger told him that Sir Thomas Sharpe had sent the missive. The frown was wiped off his face completely when they mentioned it said Vianne was in dire trouble. Suddenly, he didn’t care that it was quarter past two in the morning. He was awake now. Riddled with a dark, sickening black worry for his work colleague.

When he comes to the prince of wales suite, he stands, rigid, and knocks sharply on the door. Even the unmusical, impatient tones of his knock sounded rich with strife.

Almost instantly, the door is wrenched open from the other side, and the dire face of the man who summoned him appears. It was a handsome face, he thought. Ravens hair, stark white skin, and the garish vermillion of a tear stain of a scar. Made all the more careworn by the black bags of anguish sitting heavily under his eyes.

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Future Mrs. Stark pt2

Words: 583
Prompt: Arranged Marriage AU
Tony Stark x Reader
Part 1

“[Y/N], imagine finding you here.” Drew Hightower, who lived across the street from you and was invited to your parents Christmas party every year, placed his hand on the wall above your head. He leaned closer to you, seriously invading your personal space.

“It’s my house, Drew.” You tried not to snarl, honestly you did. “Of course I’d be here.” Controlling your temper was always difficult at neighborhood functions though. It didn’t matter if it was your parents Christmas dinner, the Easter egg hunt at the Finkman’s or the annual summer block party. You were the daughter of a wealthy family and unfortunately the other young heirs and heiresses didn’t seem to have much common sense or brain function between them. True some of them hadn’t improved their situation with continued abuse of controlled substances, but they honestly hadn’t been all that bright to begin with.

The only exception to this rule was your best friend, Tony Stark. Even that wasn’t perfect. Tony was a genius. Literally, a certified genius. Because of this he graduated High School well before you and he was already in his second year of college at MIT, despite only being sixteen years old. You didn’t see each other much anymore and it was difficult for him to attend social events while he was away at school. Thinking of this only worsened your mood when you were forced to be with the kids from your neighborhood.

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anonymous asked:

You know I have been following you for a while and thought that I have never read any of your fics. I just realized today that one of the fics that I continuously go back and read was written by you. I love your writing so much! Sorry this is so random, but I will definitely be reading more of your fics in the future.

Thank you so much! That is really sweet and I very much appreciate it as I’ve been getting a bit of hate and negativity lately. 

I got this last night, but thought I’d wait to post it, because I’ve started a new modern au fake marriage fic (FAKE MARRIAGE!!! omg) and I wanted to post it as a thank you… but I haven’t finished the first chapter yet. Or maybe I have. I’m not sure how I feel about chapters under 1k words. 

Anyway, thank you for this. 

Expect an upcoming fake marriage modern au fic soon. I could not resist. I’m still not ready to write canon yet after that finale.
YOONJIN: A Gilded World
By Organization for Transformative Works

by smiles


Jeon Seokjin has exactly four weeks to stop the impending engagement of his younger brother, doomed to a loveless marriage. The only way to stop it is to make a better match, more advantageous, more lucrative for the Jeon family. It’s impossible. It’s his only option.

Min Yoongi does not want, will never want, will never ever even consider, marriage. It’s not in the cards. He’s stubborn enough to achieve the total ban on marriage talks. Except maybe his grandmother is a little more stubborn than he is, and maybe she’s determined to see him march down the aisle.

The chaebol arranged marriage au that exactly one and a half people asked for.

Review: Major fan girling ahead. Please proceed with caution.
Holy fucking shit I love this story so fucking much!
Let me just start this off with the side ships. I mean seriously, I never knew I needed some Namseok until this fic slapped me in the face with it. They are so cute!!!!!
And oh my god, Jimin made me cry. This story is so funny but at the same time gut wrenching. I think I cried three times and it was all because of Jimin. I just can’t take my chim chim hurting so much. But don’t worry, he gets his happy ending too.
And now, the Yoonjin, the Sin. Fuck. I can’t even describe how much I love them in this! I know you’re probably expecting some sort of coherent review, but I just can’t right now. And it’s better if you experience it first hand. It’s so well written, this writer probably ruined fan fiction for me since I’d be expecting the same quality from all the others now. In a gist, I cried, I laughed, I giggled, I rooted like hell for all of them, it was just sooooo good.
It’s ongoing, and you bet your first born that I’ll be waiting like a crazy lady for an update. 

A painful arrangement.

Based on this imagine for imaginexhobbit

Characters: Legolas, Thorin, Reader, Fili, Kili

Paring: Thorin x dwarf reader

Warnings: angst, nswf, fluff

Word count: 3,370 (I got carried away OMG)

Okay so this is the very first time I write a fiction. I am sorry English isn’t my first language, I did my best to be coherent. Please bear with me, I do hope that you won’t be disappointed :) Also, this fiction can be continued if requested and appreciated. Let me know. Enjoy ! :)


You were finally living in Erebor, with the one you always loved. You were finally showing your love for him after months spent on a quest, living through the rough winter by his side. At first, it hadn’t been that easy for you and Thorin Oakenshield to end up together. There were many fights, many confrontations, especially when you decided not to listen to him and go on that quest.

As a dwarrow dam, you were considered as a precious being who didn’t need to be wasted in a battlefield among horrid creatures. But your stubbornness and determination to follow your one and only one, made you find your bravery. Therefore, you ended on a pony, traveling with the company and spending time with Fili and Kili.

The two princes were your close friends, the ones you could feel comfortable with. They were the ones who pushed you into their uncle’s arms, despite his stubbornness and the denial of his feelings towards you. The end of the quest has been better for you as the anger of the dwarven King slowly faded and let his true feelings invade him.

The battle had been a rough one, one that scared you to death: as your beloved had killed the pale Orc, he still ended injured and you were convinced that you would never see him again. But thanks to the herbs that Oin possessed, Thorin survived and soon rose on the throne of Erebor after a few weeks of rest.

Life was better, finally moving and offering the possibility to live it by Thorin’s side. You would find him at nights, after a hard day spent with the council, and spend the night by his side, kissing and cuddling. Despite the fact that he was the King, he still had to respect a courtship with you before going further, which was highly frustrating for the both of you, especially when things were getting steamy. You both had to stop and separate before violating the rules. This was of course making you laugh and rising the complicity that you had. You were already seeing yourself as the future Queen of Erebor, the mother his children, his wife and true love.

But sadly, that happiness soon went interrupted when on that first morning of winter, a particular visitor came and interrupted the daily life of the kingdom. Legolas, son of Thranduil, elven prince of Mirkwood, approached the throne and bowed towards Thorin. You couldn’t stop but have that hatred feeling, especially when his eyes laid on you. You felt a chill run down your spine and something was telling you that a bad thing would happen…

« Good morning, Lord Thorin. I see that you have rebuilt Erebor. This place is now back to its majesty. » declared the blond elf.

« Indeed. I’m glad that you arrived that soon. » Thorin answered.

This last sentence caught your attention and you turned your head to look at him a bit surprised. Since when was your beloved that welcoming towards an elf ? Something was definitely going wrong and you could feel your heart beating faster. Legolas smiled at Thorin and looked at you:

« Lady y/n, as beautiful as always… » started the elven prince. He had that sparkle in the eyes, as if he knew he had won such a precious trophy.  « May I add that I’m very honored to leave this place with you…. »

Thorin tried to stop him but it was too late. You had turned your head to look at him, trying to seek for an explanation. Leave this place with him ? What in Mahal’s world was that elf talking about ?

« Thorin ? »

« Y/n, there is something I need to tell you… »

« Indeed, you do.. »

« Legolas, would you mind if I talked to her first ? » asked the dwarven king.

« Okay, I will wait outside. » the elven prince suggested.

As he slowly faded in such a graceful move, you felt your breath hardening and your heart racing. At that moment, you knew that something was about to happen. When you locked your y/e/c into the azur ones that you fell in love with, you could notice sadness, emptiness.

« Thorin…. » you started, feeling the lump in your throat.

« Y/n, I am so sorry my love… I just have to do this in order to keep a courteous relationship with my new allies. Legolas had asked me to offer you to him. He… Fell in love with you since the first day he met you…. That’s all he wants and I can’t… Jeopardize this… » explained in a painful tone the dwarven King.

That’s it. You felt like a punch in your stomach, as if you were about to vomit. Your heart broke, hurt you so deeply that you couldn’t even breathe. You had to put a hand on the marbled wall to support your entire body. Your legs started shaking and anger soon got out of your own mouth.

« What in Mahal’s hell have you done ? I do not want to live with him ! I want YOU, Thorin ! Don’t do this, don’t break this courtship, this future I want with you ! Don’t break me…. »

« Y/n, the decision has been made. There is no way to go back on that. » argued Thorin, his eyes darker than before. You could feel the anger rising as well on his side.

« I won’t go. »

« Don’t be stubborn. »

« I said: I. Won’t. Go. »

« You will have to. Because I’m now in the obligation of chasing you out of this kingdom. And if you do not obey to your own king, I will ban you. Am I clear ? » asked in such a cold and bossy tone the rightful King of Erebor.

« …. Clear. » you spat, despise and pain expressing the way you felt.

He had betrayed you. There was no way back for you to ever forgive him. As he tried to approach you to caress your face, you stepped back, glaring at him. The look on his face was painful and he nodded his head before adding in such a whisper. « Go… He will treat you well… I will always love you, there will never be a Queen of Erebor other than you. »

« No you don’t. If you did love me, you would’ve jeopardize your relationship with the elves and fought not to give me away like a vulgar piece of meat. »

You slowly stepped back and felt your tears rolling down your cheeks. Fili and Kili slowly entered the hall and discovered you all hurt and crying. As they tried to question their uncle, Thorin turned his back on them and slowly disappeared in his own quarters, not even accompanying you to your new betrothed. Fili turned his head and realized that the rumor that has run down the corridors was real. He approached you and hugged you tight.

« I’m so sorry, y/n… » murmured the golden-haired prince in your ear.

« I am sorry too, Fili… » you looked at him and took a deep breath before looking at Kili as well: « Please.. Make sure that he’s fine… No matter how furious I am right now, I will always love him. »

Both princes nodded and slowly stepped back, letting you go and meet Legolas. The prince bowed to you and offered you a gentle smile. He helped you climb on his horse and did it as well. He wrapped his arms around your body, which made you shiver. What would your future be ? A future as the new princess of Mirkwood ? Bearing a mix of elven and dwarves children ? Dying before your husband, leaving with this eternal pain of not sharing a death with your true beloved ?

As you were wandering in all those thoughts, Legolas leaned closer to warm you. This kind of tenderness made you feel awkward but at least reassured due to all the soft moves the prince was doing with you.

« Do not fear, lady y/n. I will love you and treat you like my dear princess. » reassured the elven prince. You ignored his words and let the tears roll down your cheeks as the horse was galloping fast, taking you away from your own place.


Two years had passed since Thorin made his fatal decision about you. Despite all the efforts that Legolas was doing to make you happy and well treated, your heart ached each night for the king of Erebor. Legolas would give you anything you’d want, be patient with you. The first night of your wedding had been difficult. You had let your new husband consume the wedding on you, making you wince at each move, tears of physical but also mental pain rolling down your cheeks. He would reassure you and make sure that you’d be fine.

The following months of that arranged marriage had been peaceful. Until the day Thranduil sent Legolas to the battlefield, knowing that his prodigious son would return soon. But he never did.

One morning, while you were walking down the gardens of Mirkwood, you noticed guards coming back and going straight to the throne room, holding something. You frowned and walked straight in the same direction to meet your father-in-law.

There, you found the lifeless body of your husband. A poisoned arrow planted straight on the left side of his chest, in his heart. The king, with his emotionless attitude, waved the guards to bring the corpse in his private chambers. Even though you could feel at the first impression that he didn’t care, Thranduil was definitely destroyed. For the second time of his life.

You looked at him and felt the lump in your throat while you tried to find your words, comforting ones towards him.

« My Lord… I am truly sorry… This loss is devastating, Legolas was a good husband, a wonderful warrior and beautiful prince… » you started.

« We shall burry him close to the river, where I buried his mother. » stated the king, pain being noticeable in voice.

You nodded your head and decided to retire in the quarters you shared with Legolas, in order to give the king some time to process the devastating news.

As you close the door behind yourself, you let the tears roll down your cheeks. Even though you didn’t love the elf like you loved Thorin, he still had been a wonderful husband. He had always treated you right and even made you laugh sometime when you felt nostalgia invading you. What would you do now ? Stay with the elves ? You didn’t have any other reason to live here. You weren’t even carrying his heir, you never manage to fall pregnant.

When the guards carried the corpse of your husband, you followed them, walking by Thranduil’s side. They had changed Legolas into a silver dress, with a silver crown and white flowers surrounding the elf. The ceremony was intimate, Thranduil stayed a long moment staring at the dead face of his son. Then, he turned his head to look at you and whispered:

« Go… Return back to Erebor… Legolas is dead and his wishes were to let you return to your true love if anything happened. » stated Thranduil.

« But I don’t have any true love anymore. » you added in such a sincere tone.

« Y/n, thank you for making those two last years of my son’s life the best ones. I will forever be grateful to you. It’s time for you to have your real happiness happen. Now go, I will send guards escorting you to the rightful King of Erebor. »

As you tried to protest, Thranduil waved with his hand so you could leave him alone, grieving. This still made your heart ache. You had somehow grown fond of the elves, of your husband. You were even convinced that you would end loving Legolas sincerely and truly. But now it wouldn’t ever happen.

The guards escorted you out of Mirkwood, slowly returning to Erebor. As you were approaching the mountain, you could feel that bad sensation in your stomach, the same you had when you had found that Thorin had given you away. You didn’t even want to talk to him, to even see him.

Unfortunately for you, the first one standing on the balcony when you arrived was him. Thranduil had probably sent a raven to inform Thorin about the devastating news.

The guards let you go and you slowly slid down from the horse and looked at them. You bowed your head to them and and walked in the direction of your old home.

As you passed in front of Thorin, the king tried to talk to you but you ignored him. You didn’t want to talk to him, to even see his face. You slammed your door and locked it in order to be alone and recover from those past two years.


Two months after your return to Erebor, life slowly return back to normal. You would work just like before, spend some time with your dear friends Fili and Kili. Speaking about them, you were now sharing a chop of ale on that first night of autumn with them.

« You still don’t speak to him ? » asked the golden-haired prince.

« No, and I don’t have any intention to change this. »

« Come on, it’s been two years now, y/n… » started Kili.

« Maybe, but I will never forgive him for what he has done to me. » you answered in a stubborned tone.

« Let him at least one chance ? » begged Fili.

« And why do you even care if I may ask ? » you raised an eyebrow, questioning him.

« …. Because these past two years…. »

« He had been blaming himself for doing such a mistake. » continued Kili. « He’s been grumpy, angry and suffering. You were right, he shouldn’t have done that and he realized it. Then, when the raven brought the news about Legolas’ death, his face lightened in almost a relief as he knew you would return… »

« This still won’t make me forgive him for what he did. » you stated.

« Y/n, come on… » both princes begged.

« I’ll see what I can do. If I don’t throw my ale on him, consider this as the biggest effort I can do. »

Both princes laughed and moved on with another conversation, one that could cheer you up until you found the moment to have a discussion with Thorin.

It was when you left the tavern, when you walked down the corridors to join our own house that you felt a hand caress your arm before catching it. You turned your head and finally met those azur eyes, the ones you had loved for so long.

« Y/n…. »

« Hi. » you said in a cold tone.

« I am so sorry for what I have done. I shouldn’t ever have done it. Are you okay ? Has he hurt you ? » immediately asked the king, walking closer to detail your face, seeking for any bruise on your face.

« No. He has been more than loving to me. » you said, emotion betraying you as you were closer to him, breathing his scent and feeling his warmth.

« Good. He honored his promise. » stated the king.

« But I will never forgive you. »

« I know… I do hope that with time you will allow me to approach you. »

« I’d rather not. You damaged me, Thorin. I can’t even… Look at you anymore… Please let me go. » you slowly stepped back despite your envy to kiss him and love him.

« Please, y/n…. »

« No. Goodnight Thorin. »

As you turned around to leave, you suddenly felt his hand wrapped around your arm pulling you into his arms. You gasped but soon felt him pushing you with his hips against a wall. He was a bit taller than you, stronger. You found yourself locked against the wall, with no exit as his arms were blocking you.

« Thorin.. What… »

But you didn’t have time to finish your sentence that his lips landed on yours. A rough but passionate kiss that slowly made you return to your old times with him. You closed your eyes and slowly wrapped your arms around his neck while returning it. Mahal, did you miss him. His rough body, his attitude, his love for you. You opened your mouth to let his tongue slide into it, meet with yours. His hands slid upper, caressing your back and pressing his hips on your lower stomach.

He suddenly pulled away and looked at you in the eyes.

« Come…. » whispered the king, already pulling you back in his own quarters.

You didn’t even resist. You soon followed him and let him slam the door behind you both. There, Thorin grabbed you and carried you into his arms before slowly lying you in his bed. You looked at him with amazement. He slowly took his tunic off, revealing his hairy chest while he kicked off his boots. So this was happening. You would finally make love to the one you always wanted in your life. As he slowly laid onto you, his teeth started biting your neck, leaving you marks, as if he wanted to show you that from now on, you would be his and only his.

« Mine…. » whispered Thorin. « I love you, y/n…. »

« What about the courtship ? And who says I want you do this ? » you asked, your stubborned tone inquiring his true feelings.

« Oh but you won’t have the choice. Tonight, you’re giving yourself to me, your true love and husband. Tonight we will unite and I will never let you go. Tonight I will do what I should’ve done a long time ago… And you will be a fine Queen, a fine wife. And a fine mother. »

« Mother? » you smiled at his words, caressing his face.

« Tonight I’m making you love. Then, Mahal will decide if it’s tonight or the several other nights in which our love child will be conceived. »

« You’re moving fast. » you stated, your index caressing his bearded cheek.

« I don’t have time to waste anymore. I already wasted two years and four months of my life away from you. » breathed desperately the king.

« Then let’s start right now. » you kissed him passionately while you helped him strip your clothes off.

The king got rid off the rest of his clothes and started kissing you all over your body. His tongue rolled down your breast, making you moan at each bite he was giving on your hardened nipples. His rough hands caressed your intimacy, giving you little jumps as he started giving you pleasure. But he soon stop, before you even came as he wanted you to finish at the same time than him.

He positioned himself before locking his eyes into yours and slowly sliding into you. You linked your lips together and let him give you a rough thrust, causing you to gasp. He slowly kissed your neck, sucked it, bit it. His hips rocked hard, then tenderly to go back to hard. Having him into you was such a delight, your fingers running down his back, your body welcoming him entirely. You had dreamed about that moment for so long.

Slowly, the pleasure started rising, making you whisper his name. Many times, Thorin whispered in your ear loving words, asking you to scream his name louder, to let the entire kingdom know that you were his and only his. Your loving session lasted long. But when you felt your climax reach, you noticed that he did as well, spilling his own seed into you. He soon collapsed next to you and pulled you into his arms for a tender embrace. He kissed the top of your head and looked at you in the eyes.

« I promise you that from now on, you will never leave my side, y/n. I love you…. » he whispered.

« I love you too, Thorin… » you finally admitted before kissing his lips again. « And I’m forever yours as well… No matter what… »

Thorin caressed your face tenderly, his beautiful smile making you already melt. You closed your eyes and slowly fell asleep, knowing that those past two years, despite all the anger you had towards Thorin at that moment, were gone for good. Future was now the only thing you wanted to worry about. With him. The rightful King of Erebor.


Nightmares, Arranged Marriage Phan AU - Chapter 3!

Title: Nightmares

Paring: Phan (Dan and Phil)

Warnings: Bullying

Words: 1306

Plot: AU where all marriages are arranged. Gender, race, and age do not matter. Phil is an 18 year old with his dream job, Dan is a 14 year old about to start high school. When they’re arranged to be married, and Dan has recurring nightmares, this is what unfolds.

Chapter: 3/(?)

Link for other chapters: 1, 2

Genre: Fluffy angst?


(A/N: Sorry this was late! I had a tough time writing this chapter. But hey, it’s up ^_^ Please don’t repost/steal, copyright and such. Just reblog and like!)

(P.S I’m American and have no clue how school works in the UK so this is US based schooling, just bear with me.)

~~Dan’s P.O.V~~

“Dan,” Phil kissed my forehead.

“Ugh, five more minutes,” I put a pillow over my face.

“No, you start school today, you have to get up. Come on,” Phil pulled the sheets. “I’m going to start breakfast,” he walked out of the room. Throughout the week, Phil and I have grown significantly closer. The nightmares haven’t stopped, but they’ve reduced. When they happen, Phil just wakes me up and we stay up and talk, until he convinces me to go back to sleep. I groaned, got out of bed, changed my clothes, and straightened my hair.

“I like your curly hair,” I heard Phil pout behind me.

“Jesus, Phil,” I jumped. “Couldn’t you give me warning? You startled me.”

“Sorry,” he chuckled. “Breakfast is ready when you are.” After Phil and I finished getting ready he drove me to school, and then he went to work. It was pretty uneventful.

I navigated my locker and then began walking to my first class. “Yo, Howell, that a wedding ring on your finger?” Someone asked. I recognized the voice as Andrew. He’s been picking on me since elementary school. I turned around and nodded. “Who would want to get married to a poor champ like you?” He laughed along with Wesley, another jock. “Wait, they didn’t have a choice. Bet they hate their parents for it. Probably already looking for a divorce.”

“W-we get along j-just fine,” I replied.

“W-w-what?” Wesley laughed, faking a stutter. “Couldn’t understand you.” The bell rang.

“Let’s go, l-l-l-later Howell,” Andrew said as him and Wesley walked away. I walked to my first hour and slumped into the seat. I heard some whispering to the left, and a note suddenly appeared on my desk.

“Dan, who are you married to?” It read. I sighed.

“A guy named Phil. He’s 18.” I wrote back.

“I feel sorry for Phil.” They scribbled back. I stood up, looked at my teacher who nodded, and walked out of class, to the toilets.

Phil. I texted him.

Yeah, Dan? He replied.

I’m not feeling well. Do you think it’d be fine if I just went home?

If you can bare through the rest of the day, I think that’d be better. You shouldn’t miss the first day. Are you okay? He replied.

Yeah. I’ll tough it out. Thanks. I put my phone away and walked back to class.

Once the day of people telling me I didn’t deserve Phil finally ended, I stepped outside and found Phil’s car. “Hey, Dan,” Phil said as I stepped in.

“Hey,” I replied.

“You okay?” He grabbed my hand. I nodded my head and quickly looked out the window. Phil started driving away. “Bad day, huh?” He broke the silence. I nodded. He was being so nice, and I didn’t deserve him. He deserves so much better than me. I bit my lip to stop the quivering. “Do you want to talk about it?” I shook my head. He pulled into the flat and I got out and quickly walked inside. I went into the bathroom, started the shower, and stepped in. I don’t deserve Phil. He’s so kind and I can’t even talk to him like a normal human. He deserves someone that can sleep through the whole night, someone his age that can understand him better. I scrubbed my face and fell against the wall. I couldn’t stop the tears that fell down my face.

“Dan?” I heard Phil knock at the door. I took a breath and tried to make my voice natural.

“Yeah?” I said, my voice too thick.

“You’ve been in there for quite some time, I just wanted to make sure you were okay… Are you?” Phil said. I sighed and stopped the water. I put a towel around my waist and folded my arms over my torso.

“I have to go to my room to get clothes,” I told Phil through the door.

“I’ll be in the lounge, Dan,” Phil replied, obviously getting the hint. Once I heard his retreating footsteps, I stepped into my room and slipped on a loose tee and sweatpants. I half-assed towel drying my hair before I decided to meet Phil in the lounge. He was sitting on the couch looking at his computer.

“Hey,” I whispered. He looked up from his computer.

“Dan,” he drew out. He stood up and wrapped his arms around my torso, I wrapped mine underneath his arms around his stomach. “I’m sorry you had a rough day,” he said soothingly against my hair. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“People kept pointing out my ring and saying I didn’t deserve you,” I rushed out.

“Dan, that’s not true,” Phil argued. I bit my lip. “You don’t believe them, do you?” I didn’t say anything. “Of course you deserve me,” Phil took a step back and made eye contact with me. “You’re funny, you’re someone I can relate to. You’re adorable, intelligent, and you have an amazing personality. I’m glad that you’re my husband.” I nodded and Phil hugged me again. “Would you like to start dinner now?” Phil asked.

After eating dinner and watching tv for a bit, Phil and I decided to go to bed. We’ve been sleeping in Phil’s room since the nightmares have reduced. We both changed and climbed into bed. I held Phil’s hand like every other night before we fell asleep.

“Dan, wake up,” I felt Phil shaking me. I felt my heart beating rapidly.

“No, no,” I whispered, shaking. Tears were streaming down my face and I felt like I was suffocating.

“Dan,” Phil shook me harder. I opened my eyes and Phil visibly relaxed. “‘You were having another nightmare,” he softly whispered. I nodded and felt his thumbs wipe my eyes. “Are you okay?”

“Y-yeah, thanks, Phil,” I replied. He laid back down next to me.

“Are you going to go back to sleep?” He asked. I scooted closer to him on the bed. He opened his arm, taking the hint, and I rested my head on his shoulder. I nodded. “Sleep well,” I felt him kiss the top of my head.

“Dan, time to get up,” I heard Phil. “School,” he shook me lightly.

“Mmph,” I groaned.

“Don’t make me take the sheets off,” Phil laughed. “Come on, get up. I’m going to start breakfast, get ready, Dan.” I sighed and rolled out of bed. I put on a black sweater and black skinny jeans. I fixed my fringe half-heartedly before I met Phil downstairs and ate breakfast with him. “Are you ready for school?” He had a pitying expression on his face.

“Yeah,” I sighed.

After another day of torture and torment, I was beyond ready to leave by last hour. When the last bell finally rang, I began walking out to Phil’s car.

“Aye, Howell,” someone called. I tried ignoring them and continued walking. Someone grabbed my jacket and pulled me back. “Are you ignoring me?” Andrew sneered. “That will only get you in trouble, Howell. Now. Wouldn’t you rather stay here so you don’t have to go disappoint Phil?”

“Actually, Dan, if you’re ready, I have a surprise for you back at our house,” I heard Phil. Andrew let go of my jacket and I looked behind me to see Phil. He grabbed my hand and looked at Andrew. “Is he your friend? I’m Phil, Dan’s husband.”

“Andrew,” he introduced himself.

“Nice to meet you. Well, we’ll be on our way. Are you ready, love?” Phil looked over to me. I nodded. “See you,” Phil said as we began walking away. When we reached his car, Phil opened the door for me and then got in on his side.

“Thank you, Phil, you didn’t have to,” I said as he started the car.

“I wanted to,” he smiled.

(A/N If you want, feel free to give me feedback! I love hearing from you guys. Thanks for reading! Again, please don’t steal!)

Link for Chapter 4

The Bride

“I was married to a dead boy when I was twenty-two, in a little town called Dorchester by the Sunless Sea. It was a sparsely attended event, which my parents refused to attend. They were staunch Catovingians, and while it was politely overlooked in our town when college-age girls dabbled in things like blood rites and necromancy, the deeply religious countryside still frowned upon mixed marriages.”

How it could have continued...

The boss with the gun
Marry me”

“Illegal in Oregon. For now.”

“Fuq that shit

“Where to? :D”

“NO EMOJIS!!! and: Dunno. Vegas?”

“Nah! Everywhere but there.”

“Bummer! We could have gambled all of our wedding present money away”

Max shook her head. They wouldn’t have any wedding present money, if they’d elope. Ignoring this, in order to not ruin the moment she replied:

“I can imagine you sitting on a poker table with those sunglasses professional players always wear.”


Chloe sent her a selfie with sunglasses, a smirk and the writing ‘Misses steal yo girl an yo money, beeatch!’.

“Whom are you stealing me away from? Warren? :"D”



“Send this to him.”


“You belong to me now. He should know that.”

“U jealous, my fiancé? ;)”

“Idgaf about him but just do it!”

“You didn’t 'NO EMOJI!!!’-d me. Guess ur pretty jealous to forget that. TWO TIMES!”



“NO EMOJI!!! and I’m not jealous.”



“( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡° ) u are so freakin jealous.”


Feel free to correct my grammar :D

A Story About the Loneliness of a Professional Escape Artist

“Miraculously, He Escapes” by Sean Adams

Recommended by Michael G. Czyzniejewski

Issue No. 263

“The Escape Artist wakes on the first day of March with a sore awareness in his arms, legs, and spine. His bones, they understand what this day means — that the winter is over, that the world has thawed, that Escape Season has begun…”

Read the full story on Electric Literature.