super wedding

Feed You the Sky: Chapter 10

And here it is, the moment you’ve all been waiting for (except not really because it’s nothing super crazy interesting): the wedding of Ivar and Kára. Thanks to everyone who’s taken the time to read all this so far, I hope this lives up to your expectations. And of course, thank you to my lovely beta, @shesafreesoul. Hope you all enjoy it!

AO3 link, if you prefer to read it there:

http://archiveofourown.org/works/10584924/chapters/23762235


Kára had always dreaded her wedding day, in part because she knew it meant the end of her freedom, and in part because she had no female relatives to help her with the preparations. The second one was easily fixed. She was the princess—no, make that the queen—and there were plenty of eager women to help her. She had selected a childless bride married less than one year, a young mother of two, and a grandmother. She felt that advice from women at all stages in their marriages would be the most useful.

The first concern, though, no longer worried her, she mused as she walked to where the ceremony would be held. Ivar had promised he would treat her as his equal, and so far he seemed to be a man of his word. It was with a profound sadness that she had accepted her father’s sword from Ivar the night before. Custom dictated she present him with a sword of her ancestors at their wedding, and of course Ivar had taken the sword after killing her father.

Its familiar weight in her hands steadied her, kept her feet from flying off the earth as she felt they must. She had hefted this sword often as a child, admiring the way the light hit the pattern in the cold steel, the sharp angles of the runes for strength and victory carved just beneath the hilt. She dreamed of one day wielding it herself, although as she aged she realized that would never be the case. It would be her marriage-sword.

She reached the grove where the ceremony was to be held, the three women with her chattering aimlessly. She had ignored them for most of the preparations, too lost in her own thoughts. She wished again for her parents, but all she had was the silent sword in her hands. Kára had never felt so alone as when she headed to her own wedding, surrounded by strangers.

But when she looked around the grove, her heart lightened. There was Ivar sitting on a stump, positively resplendent in a soft dark gray tunic and black breeches, sword and ax belted snugly around his hips. When she met his gaze, she thought that he looked like a man walking gladly to his destiny. She wished she possessed his unshakable certainty, but she only felt small and alone. His deep blue eyes were soft and calm as he shot her a smile, gesturing with one hand. That was when she noticed, and a few tears sprang unbidden to her eyes. She blinked them back before they could smudge the kohl lining her lids.

Gathered around the clearing was her band of warriors, unarmed, dressed in their finery to honor the marriage of their queen and commander. If the force was a little smaller than the full strength she had left with, she didn’t focus on it. Despite herself, she couldn’t stop her eyes from searching for the one man she knew in her bones wouldn’t be there. She shook herself, instead focusing on those who had come. Most importantly, Ivar. He held an impatient hand out to her, and she abandoned the women who had brought her here.

By him stood the priest who would marry them, and the animals that would be sacrificed to ensure the success of their marriage. Kára took her place facing Ivar, trying to smile through the tangle of nerves writhing like snakes in her belly. The priest raised his voice to begin. “Today, in the presence of the gods, we are here for the wedding of King Ivar the Boneless, son of Ragnar Lothbrok, to Queen Kára Egilsdottir. Who has come to give this woman to her husband?”

Through the pounding of her heart, Kára cleared her throat and spoke. “I have no blood family to give me away. But,” she swept her hand around the clearing, “these men and women gathered here are my brothers and sisters. I have led them through bloodshed and into victory, and each one of them I consider family enough to give me to my husband.” She raised her voice, taking in the warriors that followed her so faithfully, trusting her even when she was unsure she deserved it. This was to be the moment of truth, show her the depths of their devotion. “Do you all consent to give me in marriage to Ivar the Boneless, accepting him as the king married to your true-born queen?”

Her speech was met with a rousing cheer from her warriors, and the priest nodded, failing to contain his smile. “So be it, then. You are given to your husband, and now we will call the presence of the gods to this wedding. But first, Kára Egilsdottir, you have a living gift you would like to present to your husband?” At Kára’s signal, Aki led forth the young colt she had chosen. He was only recently weaned from his mother, long-legged and fearful, but the arch of his neck was already proud and his little hooves danced over the grass.

“Ivar. I hope you look with favor upon my living gift to you, that Freyr may watch over you always, granting you wisdom in all your dealings as king. I ask that you accept this colt and cherish him as a living representation of my devotion to you.”

“I accept this gift,” Ivar said, voice a little more hoarse than normal. Aki led the colt to him, and Ivar ran a hand through his wispy mane. “Thank you. I will call him Vigri.” She smiled as Aki led the horse away, the nerves beginning to ease. Next was the sacrifice, but she hardly paid attention. It was only when the warm blood hit her face that she was back in the moment, smiling at Ivar as he smiled at her. He looked more handsome than any man had a right to with fresh blood on his face.

The priest begins speaking again, turning toward Ivar. “Have you brought a sword for your wife, as a promise of your protection?”

“I have.” Ivar drew the sword from his hip, extending it to Kára as if it weighed nothing. “This is the sword of my father, Ragnar Lothbrok. I give it to you, Kára, and ask that you will keep it safe. This sword will be used in the protection of our family. I will wield it in defense of you, as someday a son of our blood will wield it in defense of his own wife. So I swear, in the presence of the gods.”

Kára took the weapon, bringing it to her lips to place a reverent kiss on the cold steel. “I will keep this sword safe. My heart will sing with pride to see a son of our blood swing it to slaughter his enemies.”

“And Kára, have you brought a sword of your ancestors for your husband to symbolize that you are no longer a woman of your father’s house?”

“I have.” Kára took the sword she had carried with her, her anchor. She hoped Ivar’s sword would be enough to keep her from floating away. “This is the sword my father Egil carried on the day he fell by your hand.” A hush settled over the crowd. “I offer it to you now. As you took my father’s life, so now do you take mine in your hands. I trust you will keep it well.”

The assembly seemed to be holding its breath as Ivar broke the tense silence. “I will treasure it always and keep it safe, just as I will always keep you safe.” He took the sword, sliding it into the vacant scabbard at his hip. Kára still clutched the sword of Ragnar, and found to her relief that it was enough to keep her grounded. She could do this. Ivar would not be the death of her, only her life. He had just promised so.

The priest took two rings from his pockets, placing one on the handle of each sword. “In the presence of the gods, may these rings symbolize the sanctity of the vows you have made here today, reminding each of you always of the other.” They presented the rings to each other, taking them from the swords and slipping them on their fingers. They settled into place as if they had been forged exactly for their fingers. “In the eyes of the gods and in the eyes of men, you are joined as husband and wife. May the gods bless you and make you fertile, and may they curse any man that tries to tear you asunder!”

Ivar took her hand, running one finger lightly over the intricate knotwork of the band marking Kára as his, and he pulled her to him for a long, slow kiss. What had always been his in his heart was now his in the eyes of the gods. Kissing her for the first time as his wife, it felt like coming home to a place he had never been, but always dreamed of. And the way she responded, he could guess that she felt the same.

i’m in my prime,
not withering and old.
but i refuse to play
your wicked games any longer.

i know this tether is unbreakable,
but you make me feel like i’m interchangeable.
you drew a target on my heart,
when did this become fatal attraction?

i don’t have the strength,
the energy,
nor the patience
to be held hostage by your love.

so baby please don’t despair
when i say that
i’ve found the courage to
let you go.

you were never meant to be tied down in the first place.

—  believing i could love you was my mistake, c.j.n.
Patater Week (Feb 6) Get Together

you know how i said i wasn’t doing this

apparently i am a liar.

(all the week’s fics will go onto ao3)

They literally slam into each other at a roller rink.

It’s a You Can Play benefit thing for kids. Kent’s too busy watching to make sure he doesn’t run over one of the mini-tots that he completely misses the giant headed in his direction. And you would think, wouldn’t you, that a guy whose career involved balancing on knives on ice would take a check on skates as well as he did in an ice rink, but nope. Kent hits Alexei Mashkov head-on and sends them both into a pile on the ground.

The icing on the cake is Kent’s arm clotheslining a six-year-old on the way down.

So now he and Tater are both sitting on the side of the roller skating rink, holding matching cold packs to their faces while a small child stuffs tissues up his nose to stop the bleeding.

“I’mb gonna tell everybody at school that Kent Parsob hit by face!” the kid tells Kent happily, oblivious to his dad’s efforts to keep him from talking and thereby snorting blood everywhere.

Kent gives him a weak thumbs up. At his side, Alexei makes a noise that might actually be a giggle.

“You so cute with kids,” Alexei says.

Damn language barriers, Kent thinks. “You mean I’m good with kids. And I’m not that great. They just like me because I’m ridiculous.”

“You are very ridiculous,” Alexie agrees. “But I’m choose right word, ‘cute.’ You are cute being with kids.”

Kent thinks the head-on collision must have knocked something loose in both their heads. He twists sideways and gapes, the effect of which is probably lost due to the ice pack covering half his face. “I’m sorry. What did you just say?”

Keep reading

Based off of an amazing wedding planner/florist au fanfic by @ingthing! Ever since Makkachin has been mentioned, I can’t help but imagine them meeting! This fanfic is so cute and amazing! Go check it out!

Can we make it canon that Kara will both be invited to & attend the WestAllen Wedding AS WELL AS Iris’ Bachelorette Party (Along with Caitlin, Jessie, & Felicity [[and Sara?]]) because Barry has no major concern for Iris’ well being if she’s with Kara [and the Squad]. Did we just figure out a motivation for the next big crossover? I. THINK. WE. DID. 

Also, can someone please write a fic for this because I’m too excited for the Universe to collide and make this happen. 

4

In recent news, @son-of-rome is getting married soon and it gave me an excuse to draw Jason and Piper’s wedding. Congrats on getting hitched bro👌🏻

Please dont delete caption or credit

Wish list for the West-Allen wedding

-Barry’s other 3 groomsmen are Wally, Julian, and Oliver

-Iris’s maid of honor is Caitlin and her bridesmaids are Linda, Felicity, and a returned for a visit Jessie Quick

-John Diggle Jr is the ring bearer

-all the supergirl crew comes, and Alex brings Maggie (except Mon-el because…. somebody needs to protect their earth while they’re gone. Sure let’s go with that)

-Stein officiates

-Jax and Rip make them cool futuristic fireworks

-Felicity catches the bouquet

anonymous asked:

Oh my gosh could you pretty please do married with jihyun headcanons?

wym headcanons lol i’m already married to him jk jk jk

  • “hey do you still like like me?”
    “jihyun we’ve been married for seven hours”
    “you never know”
  • the wedding was super cheesy and he wrote his own vows and everyone was tearing up at it (even jumin)
  • he has videos of the wedding and also photos and takes his own photos during his own wedding because he’s extra as hell
  • and you bet your sweet ass there’s a giant portrait of the two in the living room that may or may not have been painted 
  • he’s very persistent about writing love letters on the fridge that mc finds daily and he always has something new to compliment mc on 
  • mc doesn’t realize how many books v has until they reorganize his kind of messy apartment and the books take up a whole shelf wall
  • despite the fact that his vision was horrible v always bought books and when mc tries to throw some out that’s their first married couple bicker
  • seriously, who needs a book on the art of cheese?
  • jihyun buys unnecessary things solely because he grew up with a shit ton of money. so he buys those food shapers and makes eggs in the shape of a heart for mc and it wasn’t worth $20 to pay for that but it sure is cute
  • but they definitely did not need to buy mugs in the shape of camera lenses
  • they always end up in the cardigan section whenever they go clothes shopping and they don’t really keep track of who’s cardigans are who’s anymore 
  • jihyun has a lot of soft clothes and mc wears it a lot because it’s soft and smells like him
  • when he goes away on trips and can’t bring mc along they have very cheesy goodbyes at the airport and when he comes back mc always has a cute sign ready for him
  • they definitely run to each other and there’s a lot of kisses all over mc’s face
  • jihyun, eyelid kisses are cute but please don’t mess up mc’s eye makeup it took them like twenty minutes and he does it anyways
  • museum dates. so many museum dates and they’re always taking dumb pictures at exhibits and they have annual passes
  • jihyuns that photographer who’s always taking pictures of their significant other and posts them on his website like
  • “look at all my photos from this year”
    “that’s all the same person”
    “i know!!! she’s my wife!!”
  • an actual puppy whenever anyone mentions mc and in the most professional way possible but on the inside he’s screaming
  • “oh yes, my wife is quite spectacular company to keep around” is code for “i’m obsessed w my wifey and i wanna be around her all the time”
  • they sit on the floor a lot instead of the couch because he’s always got his head in her lap while she reads
  • mc does the laundry because jihyun turned all mc’s white wardrobe blue once and they’ve never let that go
  • jihyun has this dumb habit of just walking up to mc, squishing their cheeks and then being like, “you look so nice today” and he’s got the weirdest ways of showing affection but it’s very cute
  • he has this weird ability to make the perfect coffee his hipster is showing so it’s usually jihyun on coffee duty while mc makes breakfast
  • jumin always shows up for no reason and nobody questions it. but jihyun has to stop his bad habit of walking around without any pants on because nobody really needs to be seeing jihyun’s gudetama boxers that mc got him
  • jihyun always forgets to buy toilet paper so sometimes there’s a wide roll of paper towels hanging on the hook and everyone goes hysterical upon seeing it
  • everyone in their neighborhood loves them, especially the local bungeoppang seller by their home because they always go there and tip like five dollars every time.
  • they’ve got a bunch of plants growing around the windowsills and jihyun and mc alternate on water duty but sometimes jihyun forgets to water them and he gets a punch to the arm
  • weirdest pda ever in public. all he does to flirt is pinch mc’s cheek and the most normal thing he can do is hold hands but even he misses grabbing for their hand sometimes
  • even after jihyun gets eye surgery he still wears fake glasses to be cool and mc loves how ridiculous he is for it 
  • finds it particularly funny when they whisper something in his ear and his fake glasses fog up