maiden fair

tell me why is it that… GRRM wrote one of the most sexually suggestive and raunchy songs in asoiaf, the bear and the maiden fair… and explicitly tied it thematically to Jaime and Brienne… yet people still… don’t think they’re going to get it on at some point???

(Context: My two players are INCREDIBLY suspicious of one of the tenants of the house they’re staying in and have decided to spy on him. The Druid has turned into a spider and the rogue has climbed up his window on the outside of the house. They have discovered that his room is completely bare save a bookshelf. The druid thinks he’s a ghost possessing a suit of armor, which is correct.) 

Rogue: So there's nothing in here but the bookshelf? No bed or chairs or anything?

Me (DM): Nope. He’s just sitting on the floor.

Druid: Is he reading?

Me: Yes

Rogue: What’s he reading?

Me: He’s reading a book titled ‘How To Pick Up Fair Maidens’



It was an evil doom that set her in his path. For she is a fair maiden, fairest lady of a house of queens. And yet I know not how I should speak of her. When I first looked on her and perceived her unhappiness, it seemed to me that I saw a white flower standing straight and proud, shapely as a lily and yet knew that it was hard, as if wrought by elf-wrights out of steel. Or was it, maybe, a frost that had turned its sap to ice, and so it stood, bitter-sweet, still fair to see, but stricken, soon to fall and die?


For she is a fair maiden, fairest lady of a house of queens. And yet I know not how I should speak of her. When I first looked on her and perceived her unhappiness, it seemed to me that I saw a white flower standing straight and proud, shapely as a lily, and yet knew that it was hard, as if wrought by elf-wrights out of steel. Or was it, maybe, a frost that had turned its sap to ice, and so it stood, bitter-sweet, still fair to see, but stricken, soon to fall and die?

Imagine Thranduil Getting Deffensive When He Catches Thorin Checking You Out

Originally posted by kililoveshisprincess

Originally posted by ohflint

Master Lists: Drabbles/Imagines, and Completed Series

“You should watch where your eyes linger dwarf.”

“Or what? You do not own the fair maiden and you do not own me. I can do as I please,” Thorin responds, sending you a sly smile.

You blush and turn to stare straight ahead as Thranduil’s gaze comes to rest on you.

“Y/n. Please leave our company. It seems prudent that you do,” Thranduil states, eying Thorin from the corner of his eyes.

You nod and walk out, but not before hearing Thorin say, “hate to see you leave, but I love to watch you go.”

That causes Thranduil to growl and you to blush.

In the modern world, the goddesses don’t wait for men to fight their battles.
They take weapons and find battles.
Artemis has her hood up and goes hunting after dark. The city’s just another forest in need of a mistress to tip the scale between prey and predator and everyone always said her mouth looked better when it was painted blood red.

There’s too many tears in the streets. Aphrodite thinks it shouldn’t matter. That everyone should love who they want how they want, but it should all start with giving love to yourself. A couple of counseling degrees later and she’s started a movement. She’s glad they’re understanding the strength found in the heart.

Everyone is always at war, and Athena nurtures warriors. Ones that fight with their minds and ones who fight with their fists. Hera started a website and it nearly crashed in the first hour. There’s no room for weakness. Everyone is learning to be Queens.

Then there is one final lesson, the softness amongst the rough. They gather before her throne, and Persephone whispers softly into their ears that it’s ok to love fiercely and leave things behind. Hackles are still hackles no matter how pretty they are. Take your freedom and hope it makes the world burn.
—  There are no fair maidens here, there is only immortals with ichor and steel //L.H.Z
Happily Ever After // Remus Lupin

 A/N: Don’t ask me what this trash is because I don’t know. I’ve been doing Driver’s Ed shit all week and my brain isn’t functioning properly sorry if this is terrible lmao. I don’t have the energy to edit this either pls don’t hate me 

Originally posted by mrsgarfieldxo

Remus woke with a start. Sharp, loud cries echoed through the dark bedroom. He let out a tired groan as he rubbed at his eyes, moving your arm off of his bare chest. He did his best to gracefully scoot out of the bed without waking you. Your chin slipped off his shoulder and rested softly on the corner of his pillow. A sleepy smile grew on his face as you stirred a little, mumbling his name and smiling in your sleep.

The baby in the crib at the window let out a piercing cry, and Remus winced, glancing at you. You’d woken up, but he didn’t need to know that. You watched him pad the rest of the way over to the white wooden crib after mentally deciding you were still sleeping. He peered down at the baby, smiling gently at her for a couple seconds as he fumbled with a beautiful lavender throw Lily had made for your daughter draped across a rocking chair Remus’ grandfather had built. You watched him through squinted eyes and blurry vision as he lifted your daughter carefully from her crib. He swaddled her in the blanket, hushing her quietly and rocking her in his arms. He smiled softly at her, “Hello, my love. What’s the matter? Oh, sweetheart, stop crying. Nothing to fret over, angel. Daddy’s going to fix you right up.” 

You felt a smile grace your face as you watched Remus. You didn’t think you’d ever seen a more beautiful sight; your whole world standing together, painted in soft, pallid moonlight pouring through the open blinds. You watched Remus leave the room, coming back shortly with a bottle and your now quiet daughter. He took a seat in the rocking chair, lifting the bottle to the baby’s mouth. If she hadn’t been quiet before, she definitely was now. Remus gazed down at her, an expression full of love and adoration for the girl evident on his face. You wanted to giggle at the smile on his face; the ‘stupidly in love’ grin he always gave you. Your daughter finished the bottle up quickly, but still she remained restless. You frowned. A bottle normally put her right back to sleep. You contemplated getting up to give Remus a break, but then he began talking to the child, and as you listened, you decided you wouldn’t dare interrupt this.

“My beautiful little angel,” he whispered, staring down at her. He began to rock slowly. His fingers danced on the baby’s belly for a couple seconds. She laughed and Remus smiled wider. What a beautiful sound it was, her laugh. Your husband spoke again, “I was always a night owl, too. Your mummy though,” he paused to laugh, “well, that woman passes out at seven and doesn’t wake up until noon the next day. But, sometimes, she can’t sleep. It’s normal, darling, don’t worry. When Mummy can’t sleep, I always tell her stories. You want to hear a story, love? I believe you’re a tad too young to count sheep.”

Remus wiggled his fingers on your baby’s belly once more, causing her to let out a little shriek. “I’ll take that as a yes, then, Hope.”

Hope. You’d insisted on naming your daughter that. Not only was it Remus’ mother’s name, but it was exactly what Remus needed when she came around, and it was exactly what she delivered. After James, Lily, and Peter were killed and Sirius was taken to Azkaban, Remus had fallen into a deep hole of depression, and you couldn’t help him out of it. Most of your pregnancy was spent alone, and the stress of it all nearly killed you and Hope both, but you made it through. And when she was born, the twinkle in Remus’ eye return and with each passing day of having his child, he began to smile again and your hope for him to get better, his hope for a future, the hopes you shared for your baby and each other had been restored. That’s what your child was, pure hope.

You were torn from your thoughts as Remus’ silky voice filled the room again and the story began. “Once upon a time, there lived a princess; a beautiful, kind girl with the prettiest, fairest smile and a knack for loving things others thought unlovable. I know what you’re thinking, darling. This already sounds a lot like ‘Beauty and The Beast.’ Perhaps it is, in a way. The princess lived in a glorious castle called Hogwarts where she ruled over her people in the Ravenclaw Tower, a place for the witty ones. The castle was a big place full of magic and wonder. Her loyal knights, Sir James and Sir Remus,” he paused and giggled quietly at himself, “lived in the Gryffindor tower, a place for the bravest of them all. And down deep in the dungeons of Hogwarts lived a slimy little man named Snivellus, a mad sorcerer who wanted to see the downfall of the Princess Y/N and take her throne.”

You forced back a laugh. Serverus Snape was many things, but he was not a mad sorcerer and only got the chance to see your downfall once, before it was quickly taken care of. Remus continued, “One day, Princess Y/N was with her best friend, Hademar the Owl, in Hogwarts’ Owlery writing a note to her parents, who lived far, far away. Sir Remus was off with his mate Sir James, chasing after the fair maiden Lily Evans. Sir James was hooked on her, and always had a new plan to steal Lily’s heart, which almost always involved Sir Remus doing something crazy. And so, the princess was left unprotected by her brave knights giving Slimy Snivellus the perfect chance to use his latest terrible sorcery on her. While the brave knights tried to coax Lily Evans into going on a date to Hogsmeade with the poor, lovestruck, hopeless Sir James, Snivellus sat in a dark corner with his pathetic chemistry set, brewing up a terrible poison. He had the perfect plan to steal Princess Y/N’s crown. He would dip a fresh apple into his nasty concoction and trick the princess into taking a bite, putting her in a deep sleep for the rest of your life.” He laughed a little, “And knowing Princess Y/N, it was a pretty good plan. Her subjects wouldn’t have a hard time believing she’d retired from her princess duties to sleep for the rest of eternity.”  

You could tell Hope was dozing, but Remus didn’t seem to care. He continued his story. “Greasy Ol’ Sniv slithered up the steps to the owlery, a shiny red apple in his hand. Sir Remus was still distracted with Sir James’ shenanigans and was nowhere to stop the villainous creature. Snivellus approached Princess Y/N with a sly, disgustingly menacing smile on his face and offered her the apple. She reached out to take the gift. You see, Princess Y/N was very kind and always believed in second chances. But, as soon as she touched the apple, Sir Remus felt a sick feeling in his stomach. He knew something was wrong. So, he pulled out is magical map and searched for Princess Y/N frantically. Once he found her, he raced to the owlery, wand in hand. What’s going to happen, my love? Hm, Hope? Think Dad- Sir Remus can save the day?”

You shifted slightly, becoming uncomfortable. Remus glanced at you, but you shut your eyes quickly. When you opened them up again, he was finishing up the story. “Just in time, Sir Remus burst through the door and shouted a spell, knocking the poisoned apple out of the princess’ hand. She started to shout at Sir Remus, not letting him explain his side of the story before resorting to screaming, as usual.” You tried not to snort at that little comment. Remus just put on a stupid smirk and kept story-telling, “Sir James was right behind Sir Remus, sweet Lily hot on his trail. He put magical, unreakable handcuffs on greasy, slimy, disgusting Snivellus. Lily gave him a victorious kiss and Sir James nearly went into cardiac arrest. As for the princess, she’d stopped yelling and allowed Sir Remus some speaking time. He finished his explanation of why he’d saved her ungrateful, shouting life with a brave smile and the princess’ heart thumped out of her chest – her very nice chest. She jumped for joy and thanked Sir Remus a million hundred times. She gave him lots of thank you kisses, and thank you other things, and eventually told Sir Remus that she was in love with him. Yeah, she was so whipped, Hope. After begging a million times, the princess finally convinced Sir Remus to marry her. As for Sir James and the fair maiden Lily Evans, they had a big beautiful wedding and loved each other until the very end…and still do. The Hogwarts castle was a peace with its new Prince and Princess and Daddy and Mummy lived happily ever after.”

Remus kissed the top of Hope’s head. He stood up and placed the sleeping baby back in her crib carefully with a whisper, “The End. Goodnight, my love. Daddy loves you so much, Hope.”

With a yawn, he sleepily walked back to the bed, laying down carefully beside you. You pursed your lips and shuffled around, coming to lay on his chest after he’d burrowed back into the blankets. You smiled, “Princess Y/N, huh?”

Remus let out a loud groan before pushing your giggling figure off his chest, rolling over on his side and hiding his crimson cheeks. You laughed, placing a soft kiss on his cheek and wrapping your arms and legs around him, “Goodnight, my brave prince.”

Friday Heathen prompt games

I love Do I Wanna Know from Artic Monkeys. Even though, the song is hot as hell, I choose to write a fluffy oneshot. The story takes place after almost a year of Ivar and Emer’s marriage. I hope my sister wives will like it. I love you all.

Tag: @heathen-army

Crawling Back To You

He fought with all his strength not to get back. His efforts proved useless. Ivar knew he was wrong as soon as the words left his mouth. He had hurt her. The pain in her eyes was unbearable. But to lose her would be worst. He could deal with Emer hating him, but to live without her was unthinkable. He would be hollow, no purpose beyond bring pain to others.

“I don’t want this child!”, he said those words with a certainty in his voice. But he knew that deep inside it was everything he had ever wanted. A boy with her eyes, those eyes that always made Ivar vulnerable. A girl whose hair was kissed by the fire as his beloved.

She didn’t cry, at least not in front of him. But she fought. As brave as Frigga to protect the little one inside her.

“I’ll not get rid of a blessing! Can’t you see how blessed we are? It’s a gift from God, from your Gods too. You’re selfish. And you’re offending me. This is our child, you should be proud of the life growing inside me.”

Ivar groaned in response, “Selfish? Am I selfish? You’re selfish. Can’t you see. What will I do if I lose you? This child might be as twisted as I am. It’s decided, you won’t have this baby. What makes you think your God would bless me?”

Emer replied, “If you don’t want our child, I’m leaving.”

This said, Emer prepared her departure. She was going to the farm he had given her as a morning gift.  It’s been a week since then. He waited for her to come back. But she could be as tenacious as him. It was painful not to have her warm and soft body against his chest in their bed. The sweet fragrance of her hair acting like balm against the aching in his bones during those nights in which his pain was excruciating. Her little hands holding his, while he embraced her by the waist.

The first gleam of morning rays flooding over her auburn hair, lighting every blade of grass, shining from each leaf in the fields. But the only green he cared about was the color of her sleepy eyes, looking at him every morning. She would open her eyes lazily, smiling in the process. Her hand going to his face, caressing his beard.

She could die giving birth, by a disease, of old age. They were fated to die. But they would live the days the norns have woven into their rope of destiny first. These thoughts in mind, he called Sigvard. Ivar would bring her back.



Emer felt so abandoned. When she noticed that she was not bleeding, the woman was overwhelmed with joy. They were going to be parents. Their love made in flesh. A girl or a boy with his dark hair, maybe even with those indigo blue eyes. Emer feared the baby would suffer from the same pain as Ivar. She would not lie she was terrified of bringing a life to this world only to suffer. She did not know how to bring the subject to Ivar. How was he going to react? Would he be delighted?

He only noticed the change in her appetite. Berries and apples were never enough. Ivar was always laughing while watching her eating so eagerly. Emer would raise her eyebrows in annoyance, struggling to words out of her full mouth. What only added to Ivar’s amusement. Her hunger for him increased too.

As soon as they were alone, she would push him onto the bed. Ivar would laugh with her impatience. Sometimes she would not even remove all their clothing. He never complained, loving watching her in charge. Their lovemaking has changed too. She was much more sensitive to his caresses than before, squirming with the slightest touch and becoming undone faster than usual, stiffening and moaning his name until her throat was dry. Then in the last weeks she was quieter than usual, avoiding his touch, going to bed before him. He could see she was worried about something. But whenever he inquired her, she would always give vague answers. He felt helpless, trying to help her without the knowledge of what was troubling her.

His answer came when in one night he held her by the waist, feeling a bulge that was uncommon. She tried to remove his hand in vain. It was how he discovered he was going to be a father.  


Her head was resting against the wooden tub, Astrid was caressing her already clean scalp. Emer felt so relaxed that was almost sleeping, her hand resting protectively on her growing belly. Astrid was not there anymore. Maybe little Ragnild needed her. She would finish her bath by herself.

When she felt a big hand against her stomach, she almost jumped from the water opening her eyes to find Ivar looking at her with devotion and regret. They said nothing, just kept staring deep into each other’s eyes. Ivar’s hands started caressing her belly that was hiding the life they were going to bring to the world. His eyes only leaving her face when Ivar felt a move against his fingers. He looked at Emer in confusion. She smiled at him, tears running down her cheeks. He could say they were not tears of sadness. Her hand covered his fingers and, this time together, they felt the life sparkling from inside her.


Trying her best to get control over her wobbly voice, Emer questioned him. “What are you doing here?”

Ivar lowered his head until their foreheads were touching and their eyes locked on one another, “I’ll always crawl back to you.”

My Favorite Things About Star Trek (TOS)

-all the ways they avoided saying “sex”
-cats turned into sexy ladies on two separate occasions
-the ensign that Chekov was hitting on in “The Apple” that beat the shit out of two grown men
-“how many times can we reuse this set before they notice?”
-“how many times can we reuse this actor before they notice?”
-the spray painted pipes glued to plywood, glued to the walls to make them look more legit
-all aliens wear go-go boots
-“lieutenant please call all the ship’s most important personnel for beam down to this hostile planet”
-everyone else has like an actual shirt under their uniform but Kirks just got a little black collar sewn into his uniform so that when it gets ripped we get to see his chest
-every ship had its own insignia and this is never mentioned in any of the other series (not even Enterprise as far as I know)
-all the other captains are assholes, all of them
-“Fear not fair maiden!”, “Sorry neither.”
-the prime directive is more a suggestion than a rule

when i was little i assumed the song American Pie was a fantasy story from the perspective of a court jester who’d been unfairly banished by the Evil New Court Jester, who assassinated the king and banned all music in the music kingdom.

so our narrator sets out on his lonely journey and the good old boys drinking whisky and rye were a band of rebels who were hiding to avoid execution and eventually there was enough civil unrest that the people turned on the Evil Jester but he had called upon some sort of demonic evil magic and the rebel forces were destroyed

and then after years of wandering and sharing his tale to all who would listen, our hero returns to his home kingdom only to find it abandoned and in a state of ruin, and he asks a fair maiden in a blue gown what had become of The Music and she explained the music had been dead for a long, long time

and now, knowing that everything he had ever stood for was destroyed, our lonely hero, now old and weary, returned to the band of outcast he’d befriended, where they sang bittersweet songs of the forgotten and drank whisky and rye until death came and gently lead their weary souls to where they could merrily sing once more

i was incredibly let down to learn this was not the authorial intent