the kings and queens were brought here

Neverland’s Queen

A one-shot based off of the song Going to California by Led Zeppelin? Like the lyrics are a prophecy that Peter goes out to fulfill? “Someone told me there’s a girl out there, with love in her eyes and a flower in her hair. (..) She is red when skies are grey. (..) They say she plays guitar and cries, and sings…” ^Prophecy idk. So Peter goes to find this dream girl or whatever and finds it she doesn’t really exist. He comes back to Neverland where the reader is staying, and realizes that SHE is his dream girl. Idk the whole request is a mess:)

warnings: slight swearing, also i loooove this request. it’s detailed and different so i really went all out
1990 words

“There’s a girl out there with love in her eyes and flowers in her hair.
When the sea burns red and the sky stains grey,
And the mountains and canyons then tremble and shake
As the children of the sun begin to awake,

You will find a queen without a king.
She plays a song and cries and sings.
She rides a white mare in the footsteps of dawn.
She is a woman who’s been never born.”

Peter Pan gawked at the mermaid, stunned by her sung prophecy. He never had any use of the Seer of the Sea, until recently, when he had grown restless of his lonely life, and so had come to the Lagoon seeking out the maid who gave oracles to those who could capture her. The King of Neverland was tired of a solitary reign. He needed someone to rule beside him, someone who could love and protect the island just as he did. There were his Lost Boys, of course, and they were fiercely loyal and true of heart, but he couldn’t very well make any of them his queen.

There was you, however. A girl fiercer than any of his boys, and much prettier, Peter mentally added. Of course, he would never tell you that. You infuriated his entire being. Truly, it was a miracle that Pan restrained himself from begging the Shadow to take you back. He loathed you. He loathed your snark, your quick witted remarks shutting down his attempts at annoying you, he loathed your sweet laughter when you could convince the boys to tease him too, and he especially loathed the gentle curve of your lips when you smirked at him, absolutely plump and delic- NO.

Peter forced a heavy wall down onto those thoughts. Now was not the time to be thinking about your infuriating lips. He needed to find his queen. “Where is she?” Peter boomed at the mermaid, and it was not so much a question as a command to tell him of the prophesied girl’s whereabouts. The oracle merely smiled knowingly, and began to float away. “Wait!” His voice was desperate, and the maid, sensing this, turned around slowly in the water, silver hair shimmering with the last of the sunset’s light.

“The girl you seek is from the place without magic.
And you shall soon find her surrounded by manic
But search well, dear King, and keep sharp your sight.
You may only find her until the break of first light.”

It took seconds to comprehend her second riddle, but Pan was quick, and shortly exasperated then after. Until the break of first light. Sunrise. “I only have sunrise to find her?”

“Cherish my gift of foretelling.
Do not be led astray.
My words’ magic, it shall run out
At the first light of the day.”

With a flick of her brilliant indigo tail, the mermaid was gone, and Peter was left alone with little time and a prophecy.

… … …

Night had finally fallen, and Peter strode into camp, headed straight for Felix. He stopped in his tracks, however, when he saw you atop the boy’s shoulders. Laughing, as his second in command paraded you around. Blushing, as Felix cracked a joke about you being the queen of Neverland. Stroking, your fingers idly gripping the boy’s blond locks, and Peter’s own hands clenched at the display before him. Felix was clad in a white shirt tonight, a contrast to his usual earth-toned raiments, but the Lost Children had planned a special feast this evening, and it seemed he dressed up for the occasion. Dressed up for you. As Peter’s right-hand boy spun you, forcing sweet laughter from your lips, the King decided he had had enough of his horsing around.

“Felix,” he barked, not wasting any time as the moon rose into the sky. “I’m leaving the island for a little trip. You’re in charge,” Peter said, turning away from the sight of you together. He halted when your voice rang from the other side of camp.

“Finally tired of us, Pan?” You slipped off from Felix’s shoulders, eager to goad the clearly agitated leader. You couldn’t miss an opportunity to push his buttons. “I thought I’d never see the day you’d abandon us. And here you are, leaving us defenseless without a leader to protect us.”

“You’re damn well aware that you’re more than capable of protecting yourself, (Y/N).” Peter’s sharp response surprised you both. That almost sounded like… a compliment? No, it couldn’t be. You eyed him confusedly, and an unnameable tension that had been between you both for quite a few weeks now filled the air between you, humming as the Lost Boys began a bonfire far behind you.

Felix coughed from where he stood to the side, smirking at his leader with an understanding twist of his lips. Peter shot him a dirty look. It was a misfortune, he thought. That his subordinate should also be his best friend. He knew more about Peter than Peter knew about himself, and Pan hated it. He hated the knowing smirk on his subordinate’s lips. Felix did make up for though, when he cleverly dispersed the tension to save his friend from an awkward encounter. “Don’t you have somewhere to be, Pan?”

The time. Peter looked up at the sky, and found the moon rising even higher into the night. “Shit,” he breathed. “I’ll be back by sunrise,” he stated, running off into the forest before flying up, up, and away to another realm. You watched him go, his beautiful form snaking throughout the trees and disappearing into the stars. Once he was out of sight, Felix whistled at you, and you grinned at your friend, hopping onto his back as he made his way to the feast.

… … …

Nothing. He had found fucking nothing these past few hours. Peter racked his mind for the bits and pieces of the prophecy he still retained. What had it all meant?

When the sea burns red.
She rides a white mare.
A woman who’s been never born.

How would the sea ever burn? Which white mare was it? If the girl he was searching for had never been born, what the hell was he doing looking for her? The oracle’s words swum in fragments in his mind.

Peter had searched all over the land without magic, flying over red waves of rock in a desert, searching through grey storms in chilly towns, and ending up in various pubs and bars, trying to find his prophesied queen. His equal. He did come across many beautiful girls where he searched, and they all took an interest in him, but he knew in his heart that they were not the one he had been looking for.

Everything about them was wrong. Their hair was wrong, their too-sweet words whispered into his ear were wrong, and even their lips were wrong, the slope of them not at all right. The feel of the girls was foreign, and unfamiliar. The moon hung low in the sky now, and Peter Pan had lost faith in finding someone who would fill the barren void in his heart. With a reluctant sigh, the King decided that there was no such queen for him, and with a crumbling heart, he flew home.

… … …

Peter made it back, unnerved by the fact that the Lost Boys were still dancing. He caught sight of you.

There’s a girl out there with love in her eyes and flowers in her hair.
When the sea burns red and the sky stains grey,

He saw the crown of poppies and other wildflowers adorning your head, and something tugged at the back of Peter’s mind. The moon was gone now, and a sliver of the sun’s fire was rising from the horizon, turning the ocean into a sea of red. Grey fog lined the skies.

And the mountains and canyons then tremble and shake
As the children of the sun begin to awake,

The Lost Boys continued to dance around of the fire, its flames mimicking those of the sun. It seemed as if the boys’ stomping quaked the very earth beneath them. The sun began to peek out from beyond the sea, driving the boys even wilder.

You will find a queen without a king.
She plays a song and she cries and she sings.

Your flower crown was beautiful upon you, Peter thought, the various shades of the petals bringing out the glow in your face, the mirth in your features. You sang a tune as the boys stepped in time, the beat never faltering.

She rides a white mare in the footsteps of dawn.

Peter took notice of your position on Felix’s broad shoulders, and his eyes widened as he realized his second-in-command had played as your steed for the night .

She is a woman who’s been never born.

Peter staggered backwards. The mermaid didn’t mean that the girl had not been born yet. She had been never born. Never born. Neverborn.

It was you, he realized. His queen, adorned with a crown and steed to match. You were an ordinary girl back where you had come from, but when the Shadow brought you here, oh, how stupid of him not to realize! Peter stared at you in awe. Once you were brought to Neverland, you were reborn as a Lost Girl. A queen. His queen. And the King had come to claim you.

“Peter!” You slipped off Felix as you caught sight of the green-eyed boy, eager to give another jab at his ego. He stalked towards you, a determined look on his face, and you smirked, ready to let the banter begin. “How kind of the King to return to his people,” you remarked, Peter walking faster towards you. “I was beginning to think-” You actually had no time to think, or to even finish your sentence, for that matter, because as soon as he had strided close enough, the King of Neverland pulled you in by the waist for the most breathtaking kiss.

… … …

It was quiet. The camp was quiet.

The fire was quiet.

The forest was quiet.

Hell, even the boys were quiet. Silence had swept over the island in a single breath as Peter Pan crashed his lips to yours. His mouth danced along your own, and you couldn’t comprehend how long it was the pair of you stood there in the middle of camp, your hands rested on his chest as his hands caressed your hips, all while you returned his fervent motions. You came up for breath, and peered up at him.

You tried to think of something, anything to say. At this point, you couldn’t care less if it was witty or not. You just needed to know…

“Why?” It was the least you could say, and you hoped it conveyed everything you wished to ask. Why was he kissing you? Why did it feel so right? Why you?

“Because you’re my queen,” he murmured, pressing his forehead to yours. And although you were unaware of most of the meaning, somehow, you understood what he meant. You understood the meaning of the tension that had been building up between you two, the meaning of his playful teasing, and the meaning of the words he spoke now. You smiled up at Peter, at your King, and leaned in for another kiss. He was more than happy to oblige, and the boys began hollering once again at the pair of you, Felix rolling his eyes as if to say, “About damn time.”

The magic of the island thrummed as if in understanding that its queen had been found, and somewhere beneath murky turquoise depths, a grin bloomed on the face of someone with silvery locks, who beamed up at the surface in approval before swimming away with a flick of an indigo tail.

(A/N): I fucking loved writing this, and I hope you guys enjoyed it too! 

Jimin Scenario: To Hold You.

Request: Requests are open! Yaaay Can you write a vampire prince AU, where he have a human girl for a while now, & he took her to his “vampire palace” to get to know more of his vampire side, his family & what they do. With How surprise she’s of seeing him as a prince & royal. The plot could be how sweet he’s with her, & fearless with the others specially his enemy. You can add a fight scene if that helps. & you can end it as you wish. I just can’t take vampire prince jimin out of my hand after BS&T

Vampire AU.

Genre: Fluff / Romance.

-I’m not sure if this is right- you muttered as you opened the door for Jimin. You were ready to go, you had told your maid to brush your hair until it shone and then you had pinned half of it with a pretty broach Jimin had gifted you a few months ago. It was beautiful as it was antique, and you couldn’t think of a better occasion to wear it than to go to his place for the first time.

-Of course it is- he assured with a smile, dashing, was the only word you had to describe him. Jimin was beautiful beyond words, but that one seemed to adjust somewhat right. He had this odd shade of hair, blond, but with an ashy tone that with a certain amount of light looked lilac. -Everything is ready, unless you don’t want to go- he suggested softly. 

You did want to go, you died with curiosity to go to his place, that by the rumors it was something huge and out of the ordinary, everyone talked about it, the high palace by the hill, but not many people dared to go there.

-I want to- you affirmed and that made Jimin take your hand to pull you out of your house. The carriage was just in front of your street. You really liked it, it was luxurious but cozy on the inside, the two white horses that pulled from it made great contrast with the black material of the carriage itself. -I’m just a bit nervous-

-Nonsense Y/N- Jimin laughed helping you in after the driver opened the door for you and Jimin extended a hand for you to get in easily.

He was holding your hand as you rode there, but that didn’t make anything to your nerves. -So everyone is going to be there? Your parents? Your brothers? Friends?-

-Of course!- he chirped. -I gathered everyone for this special occasion-

-How thoughtful- you mused making him laugh. -And are they really ok with it? I mean won’t they want to… eat me?-

At that Jimin lost his smile, shaking head. -No one will ever do such thing, bringing a human isn’t perhaps the most common thing for us but- he kissed the back of your hand smiling a little again. -But I already spoke about it and there’s no turning back, I found you Y/N, I couldn’t ever let go of you-

You smiled at him this time. -We found each other-

-This way you can know more about me too, more about us, and that way you can be sure if you want… this, this kind of life- he finished with a sigh.

-I wish to know it all, but you can’t blame me to be nervous though- He chuckled amused with that. -I’m serious, are royal vampires as mean and ruthless as human monarchs?-

-They are- Jimin conceded enjoying your eyes going wide to then chuckle once more. -But not towards you, you are with me Y/N, everyone will treat you like they would if you were…- he laughed lightly like he was enjoying some secret joke and you hit him with your fan.

-Like what my lord?-

-Don’t call me that- he nagged but still with a laugh in his mouth. -Like my wife-

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A/N: So I’ve decided to do a series of Disney inspired au’s, possibly like four/five of them so you have that to expect! This first one is inspired by sleeping beauty but in the star wars universe; a few things are different and some are the same (like the name change) so there’s that. Also, the planet Daenia is completely made up so don’t bother looking it up. Enjoy and feedback is welcomed! P.S. there is a shift in pov but that’s only in the very beginning.

Warning: None

Word Count: 7.4K+ 

The sound of muffled voices echoed throughout the palaces walls, royal families from all throughout the galaxy gathered in celebration. At the center of attention, the noble king and queen of the wondrous planet Daenia sat on their thrones. A warming sensation spread throughout their chests, the first baby of the royal couple had been born and everyone was there to celebrate her–princess y/n.

Although, not even a week old, she lied quietly in her crib, softly cooing as the sounds around her didn’t seem to bother; it seemed only natural that the noises didn’t disturb her. With the life she’d soon have of being royalty, balls and celebrations were going to be constant.

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A Court of Queens and Lords: Part 15

Part 1-10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14

Sidenote: I’m late again and sorry, again. One word: Finals.

Part 15:

It took Feyre a few seconds to recognize who they were, but once she saw the look on Rhys’s face, she knew.

Alina and Rhy’s mother, Karna. They were as beautiful as Rhys had described them to her. He had had a nightmare and Feyre was there to console him. He dreamt of them being taken away again, being killed and tortured. To calm him down, she asked how they were like. He told her of Alina, her spirit of light and love that captured everyone’s heart. His mother, who fought for her wings and delivered kindness to anyone she could give it to.

They both stood before her, their eyes dead, their souls seemingly gone. But they were standing and moving. They were the very opposite of dead and alive.

“Ah, how I love dear family reunions,” the King said.

“Who the hell are you?” Asked Aelin, her question full of bite and annoyance. She was still embraced in the birdman’s arms.

“He is the King of this world,” replied the woman next to Hybern. “Show some respect.”

“You will not speak to my Queen that way, you evil fucking bitch.” Said the man embracing Aelin, eyes full of rage. The woman laughed.

“You can insult me all you want, Rowan. The fact is, you’ll all be dead before you can get your hands on me.”

“Wanna bet?” Replied Aedion, with a smirk set with determination.

“It seems to me,” Hybern replied “that some introductions should be made. Now here,” he pointed to his soldiers, “are my pets. They were brought to me by the Cauldron, quite literally. Maeve was brought to me by none other than the great Morrigan’s father. He was very helpful, indeed. He knew where all four of you would be.”

“Where is he?” Demanded Mor, her voice full of anger. She didn’t seem surprised though.

“Right here,” replied Keir, standing next to Maeve. Mor glared at him.

“You see, I landed in the same place as you did, Aelin darling. Keir-”

“So you landed in the Court of Nightmares,” interrupted Aelin.

“Yes,” replied Maeve, annoyed at the interruption.

“How fitting.” Maeve glared at her while Rowan smiled proudly.

“Like I was saying, Keir found me and I… convinced him to hide me.” Keir appeared like all the other soldiers. But Feyre realized these weren’t just soldiers. Feyre’s court seemed to set eyes on a particular soldier, recognition clear on their faces.

“I don’t understand,” said Azriel. “Keir told us about Aelin. If he was working for you then why would he take us to her.”

“That was before he had found me. Dear Aelin and I were unfortunately separated.” Maeve replied with a teasing pout.

“Thank the gods for that,” mumbled Elide.

“Why are you telling us all this?” Asked Cassian.

“Every good revelation comes with a story,” teased the King.

“That’s enough,” Rhys said, voice full of emotion. His eyes were still on his family. “How did you-”

“Bring your family back to life? We didn’t. Not entirely. Maeve was brought to me by what might have been fate or coincidence, but either way it was some sort of blessing.” The King said, voice full of endearment. Aelin gagged.

“She was the perfect piece to the puzzle. I had used the Cauldron to create a portal to create something lethal and unstoppable. It brought me Maeve, who helped me create what I needed. These pets of mine,” he pointed to his soldiers “are completely controlled by Maeve. She is their power source, her magic keeps them walking and fighting. With the Cauldron, I not only created a portal to Maeve’s world, but the portal to the Morto lands.”

“With this portal,” continued Maeve, “we were able to bring lifeless, soulless bodies to our control. And they are all controlled by me, so I suggest to treat me very, very nicely.”

There was a loud silence in the room as everybody in the room tried to process what they had just heard. His soldiers, they were all previously dead. Which meant… which meant that her father was dead too. Rhys looked to her, his eyes full of realization and worry for her. All she could be right now, was shocked. She couldn’t explain what she was feeling, she didn’t know how to feel. Her father had neglected her, had let her provide for her family on her own, had given her off to some beast and never looked back. He hadn’t even tried rescuing her. And yet she knew this wasn’t a way for anyone to die. To die and become a weapon in a world’s destruction. The only thing she could feel for her father was pity. Feyre looked towards to her sisters, to see what she should be feeling, and they all met eyes. It seemed that the Archeron sisters had a knack for blankness. Maybe it was genetic.

She felt Rhys’s hand on her elbow, he held her upright as their whole world tilted. People were being brought back from the dead to be used as unstoppable weapons. They had no chance. None of them had expected the impossible and now that it was here, they were clueless.

Feyre wanted out of there so bad. These soldiers, or dead people, or whatever they were could kill them. Her friends all looked exhausted from the fight, some were injured. She realized these creatures weren’t necessarily powerful, but they could exhaust. Her power would most likely be useless to kill them all. She closed her eyes and imagined that she and her friends were safe in the Night Court. They’d be in the dining room, all of them seated and safe and sound. They’d all be happy and without worries. And when she opened her eyes to face reality, they were all in the Night Court dining room. She scanned the room as they all looked around the room, faces full of confusion. They were all seated at the dining room table just like she had imagined.

Except they were all definitely not happy, and not at all safe.

Bucky Barnes Soulmate au Pt. 2

Based on this post

Summary: Whatever mark you get on your skin your soulmate gets it too so one day, you just kind of just get a sharpie and start writing on your skin. You definitely didn’t expect to get a reply, but you did. Now it’s five in the morning and you’re just about covered in ink and this will be a pain to wash off later.        Part 1

Originally posted by little--batman

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SVT - Click a Prince: Seungcheol/S.Coups

Originally posted by seungcheofine

Series: Click a Prince (intro)

Member/s: OT13 - Seunghceol/S.Coups x Reader 

Words: 933 

A/N dear lord this was hard. why? ‘cause Seunghceol that’s why   *nervous sweating* Cause some one actually messaged me to ask me about S.Coups’s part aka the push I needed. ;) 

You sat at the table, eating, staring at the empty seats before you. Hadn’t it only been two weeks ago that all the wooden seats had been full.

Hadn’t it been two weeks ago that the table before you seemed to belong to an enormous family. Hadn’t it been two weeks ago that even though your life had been sliced, you had also felt the warmest you had ever felt. And now, all you had to show for this move was an empty table and a slice of chocolate cake in front of you.

You sighed, maybe looking at the thrones would make you feel a little better. Or at least distract you from the crushing loneliness you felt.

You shook your head, still heading towards the throne room with the plate, a ruler shouldn’t think this way. If you were to rule, everyone else came before you, you had no more feelings, only logical calculations to make.  

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“I still don’t understand why we are here, brother.”

“Loki, you know very well why.”

“Enlighten me, please, because I don’t see anything wrong with that the acts I’ve committed whilst I was here.” The God of Mischief laughed, causing his brother to stop him in his tracks.

“You have caused this realm unnecessary pain that they should have never gone through. Mother’s told you the stories of their past. You’re foolish for what you have done. They’ve threatened Asgard with war and that’s the last thing we need right now after what’s happened with Malekith.”

“Oh dear brother, I see you’ve lost your spark for the familiar sound of swords and shields clashing upon one another, simply for the thrill–the adrenaline that courses its way through your veins while you’re in action.”

“I’ve come to know that more troubles come from fighting then it does to amend.”

“Troubles? Like me? And finding out we are not even the related in the slightest.”

“You will always be my brother, Loki, no matter what our blood says. You ran around with me in the castle. You fought with me over the last piece of bread. You came to me when you needed help. You are my family… I would go through Hel for you and I hope one day you will see the love and care I have towards you and you’d do the same. Now shut up and come with me to apologize to the Queen for your actions.”

Loki did not speak. He looked onward and kept walking. The sound of his chains being the only sound that filled their ears.

The grand doors opened and they waited for your arrival in front of your throne.

“So much for a Queen. She’s late.” Loki huffed and made eye contact with a maiden. “Would you mind getting me some water? I’m a little parched.” She did not answer. Her face was stern as she looked at him. “Did you not hear me, lady? Do your job and serve your guest.”

“Loki! Manners…” Thor said, elbowing his younger brother. Little did either of them know it was you, the Queen, disguised as a worker of the castle.

“Useless… What is she even doing here if she won’t serve me?”

“Maybe it’s because you are unworthy in my kingdom of being served the simplest things, such as water.” You walked away from the corner you had been standing in, as doing so, your clothes changed to the proper attire of a Queen. A beautiful, long, green gown appeared on your body with magic and as you made your way to the throne. You took a seat and sulked in the face that the Prince had made before you when he realized his mistake.

“Your Majesty.” Thor bowed his head, and then kicked Loki for not doing the same.

“Princes.” You complied. “I hear you’ve come to repeal the act of war I have besieged upon your realm?”

“Yes. We are not in the right time to be involved with such a thing. I have high hopes that my brothers’ sincere apology, for the mayhem he has caused, will be enough to stop this before it starts. I also know that your realm is one of peace and that this will have an impact on your decision.

“Sir Thor, my realm is one of peace, but we will fight if we are wronged upon. My army of skilled women and men will tell you this as well. Now as for you Sir Loki, will your apology be sincere enough to change my mind?”

“I cannot say that it can, for I believe I did no wrong.” Loki had no idea why that had just slipped from his mouth. Thor as well looked at his brother in horror at his choice of words. The younger Prince had decided to lie, but it was like the truth was forced out of him.

“Hmm. Does that sound sincere to you?” You asked the older Prince.

“No it does not, not in the slightest, your majesty.” Thor furrowed his eyebrows. He wanted to plead, but he could not speak.

“Your brother ran amok in my realm, bringing forth fire and destruction to my people. Husbands lost their families because of the boy who stands beside you. The worst part is that I was visiting your realm for business when this occurred. I don’t know what happened to him, but he is not in his right mind. My ancestors before me nearly lost all their people once and I will not tolerate those who try to commit an act similar.”

"Well then Darling, perhaps your people should not have been ruling then.” Loki commented. Thor turned his head slowly to his brother, his mouth agape in disbelief. You stood up from your throne and looked down on the silver tongue Prince.

“Kneel.” You ordered. He looked up at you and scoffed, but then his legs betrayed him. He dropped down in front of you, a look of confusion stricken across his face.

“How are you–”

“It was because of your people, frost giant, that my realm was almost obliterated.”

“How do you–”

“I know and can do a lot of things.”

“No one is to know that about my brother.” Thor protested, taking a step towards you.

“Stand down. No one knows, but I. You should be grateful that I am not that kind of Queen.”

“But you’re willing to start war with another realm?” Loki grunted, trying to stand.

“Do you know what trickery is? I mean you should God of Mischief… I was going to repeal my decree, last minute in an effort to keep the peace. You should be thankful that your brother brought you here for reasons he did. You were my first order of business if your father insisted on war.”

“You mean your warriors were to kill me first?”

“A Queen fights with her warriors, just as a King does. Everyone here is equal. I was to find you and kill you myself.” There was a tension-filled silence as neither of the brothers knew what to say. “Now will you apologize or not?”

“I don’t wish to.”

“Loki!” Thor yelled.

“It isn’t me speaking, it’s the witch!”

“I am of no such thing. You are merely speaking your true mind when I ask you questions.”

“Were you born or given the curse?” Loki sneered.

“Neither. I was born with a gift. I discovered so when I became of age.”

“If you ask me, such a thing is a curse.”

“Not if you know how to control such a thing like I. Tell me, does your knee hurt?”

“Yes, your majesty.” Loki answered.

“Then stand.” You replied and he did so. “Now, do you wish to tell me why you use that silver tongue of yours to hide your feelings?”


“Then I will find out myself.” You took a few steps towards Loki before his brother intervened.

“Do not harm him.” He warned.

“I will not, now step aside please.” He obeyed. Not like he had any other choice.

“What are you doing?” The dark haired Prince asked, as your hands went to either side of his face, but not touching him.

“Finding what I need to know.” With that, your hands cupped his cold face and every ounce of his being was shared with you. You pulled your hands away and squeezed them, so they could stop shaking. Every emotion he carried inside was swarming in your body, causing your legs to buckle before Thor caught you.

“Are you ok?” He asked and you nodded in answer, unable to talk. You stood up straight again, prompting Thor to let go. Loki, still in awe of what you done, hung his head low.

“You feel alone, but you have a family who loves you very much. Granted, the blood differs, but the love is there and strong. You wish to think otherwise and that’s your doing. You should learn to accept what’s been giving to you. It could have been worse, Prince Loki.”

“Do not dare tell me what I should and shouldn’t do.”

“It was just advice.”

“Of which I didn’t ask for.”

“Yes… But it’s now there. Do with it what you wish.”

“Are we done here?” Thor stepped in.

“I never got an apology.” You looked between the brothers.

“Loki, hurry so we can leave.”

“I…,” The young Prince began, “Should have burned this realm to the ground.” He stared you down and you nodded.

“You fool!” Thor roared and grabbed his brother by his shoulder so he could look at him. “What have you done?”

“Nothing yet, brother.”

“If war is what you want, then war you shall get. I will see you both very soon.” You signaled for your guards to relieve the brothers from your castle.  

“Take them to the Bifrost and see to it that they make it through.”

“Yes, your Majesty.” They said in unison.

“And let your fellows know, we are going to war.” The two Princes looked at you, emotions differentiating on their faces. You bowed your head and watched as they were dragged out of your sights.

“You fool, Loki.” Thor spoke quietly.

“We’ll see who the real fool is when the time comes.” The younger prince replied with his head held high, clearly happy with what he just started.

The Smiling King

A/N: If anything else, this was intended as a oneshot in response to reading @avalonroses‘s prologue to The Scowling Queen. In any case, it’s a lot longer than I meant it to be, and it’s totally unrelated to the actual plot because when I actually read it, I didn’t realise it was a prologue. XD I thought that was it, and admittedly, made me a bit mad because stories that leave Arthur in situations like this put me on edge, haha…So I had a sort of dream/daydream for a way I would have finished it off were it never going to go anywhere else. I’ve heard that avalonroses is going to continue it, so I’m looking forward to that! :D In any case, this was just my mind reacting and trying to reconcile the situation. It’s not my best writing, but I hope it’s at least a little entertaining! It’s some adventure-themed type stuff, but mostly it’s about Arthur’s emotional journey :)


The name of the Scowling Queen was heard of throughout the kingdoms, his name travelling across the other three suits like an insult. Most people laughed, mocked the queen, thinking it was amusing that such a person could only glower, making no other face. Spades, of course, were the least favoured suit, known only for the fact they were the only kingdom that still made use of slave-labour. Such a notorious reputation only made the Queen’s impression even worse. Some of the political cartoons depicted him in ridiculous situations, rudely making fun of the fact that he never seemed able to make any other expression.

Very few felt for him, even less pitied him, and hardly anyone cared. Those who did felt a sort of pain when the Queen was mentioned, and none more than the young King of Hearts.

“Who is he? Why doesn’t he ever smile?” he’d ask his chuckling caretakers, only to be patted on the head and told it wasn’t important. Though, the little boy could never seem to get the image of the Queen of Spades out of his head. The perfect, proper form always looked forced, and those dead eyes looked so sad and empty in every single image drawn, painted, and taken. The King wanted to know why, and that question would haunt him for years.

He made a promise to himself when he was barely tall enough to see over the balcony over his kingdom, that he would one day go and see for himself the reason the Queen of Spades never smiled.

It became the first thing he would do as King the day he was of age.

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Taming the Rage

Title: Taming The Rage

Chapter #4

Author: lokislover9 (previously lokislut9)

Imagine: Imagine Odin tells Loki that he has to marry and that it’s you. You’ve hated him for years. Every time he sees you in the palace he chuckles knowing the duties you will have to perform as his princess, making you cringe. He isn’t fond of you either but he can’t help looking forward to the challenge.

Notes/Warnings: none

Every midsummer in Asgard sporting events and weaponry competitions take place on the palace grounds. Prior to leaving for college, Erika had always competed and was once again looking forward to the challenge. For those who desired practice runs they were to begin in 2 weeks. She decided to do some reading up on her favourites at the palace library. Oddly enough Loki had been curious of her whereabouts and went to see Heimdall. “And how are you on this fine day Sir?” Heimdal is immediately suspicious of him. “What can I do for you Prince Loki?” “Can you please find the lovely Erika?” He lowers his brows to him. “Why?” Loki puts his hands behind his back. “I beg your pardon but since when do you have a place to question me?” “I don’t. You will be kind to her?” Loki smiled. “Of course.” “Very well. She’s in the library.”

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The Northerner

So this is a little oneshot about @s-kinnaly‘s zelgan child Kanisa and her love interest Vidar, set at the moment they first met (*˘︶˘*).。.:*♡

I may or may not have gotten slightly carried away with all the gooey romantic stuff going on, whoops, but I can’t help it! I really love Kanisa, she’s awesome

Rinku belongs to @figmentforms, of course! :D

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Sanctuary Roleplay Prompts
  • “Never let it be said that I don’t know how to show someone a good time.”
  • “If anyone needs me, I’ll be coughing up blood.”
  • “Which part of ‘I am a genius’ aren’t you getting?”
  • “If we don’t leave now, things are going to get rather bullet-ridden.”
  • “Stop doting on me. It makes my teeth itch.”
  • “What if he’s posing as the king of a lost mountain tribe and he wants me for his queen?!”
  • “I’m just going to jump off this cliff and hope that I sprout wings.”
  • “What’s a faked death among friends?”
  • “You were my favorite…until you killed me, which - as you may have guessed - left me with some emotional scars.”
  • “I’ve got wood!”
  • “Have you had a chance to check out my nubbins?”
  • “We’re about to see the ninth wonder of the ancient world, and I didn’t even bring a camera.”
  • “I love you. Remember that always.”
  • “You haven’t even touched on me getting wild yet.”
  • “I brought you here for two reasons - Because only you can help me finish what I’m working on and because I love you.”
  • “Thanks for taking off your pants.”
  • “I only get one set of days. I think you need to appreciate what it means if I give them all to you.”
  • “If you’re going to help, do try to remain sober.”
  • “Ugh… What the hell did they shoot us with, a hangover gun?”
  • “What is it about you and me and dark, narrow corridors?”
  • “Is that your real name, or just the one we’ll put on your headstone?”
  • “Is that a revolver under your bustle, or are you just happy to see me?”
  • “You know, you might want to spend a little less time with Jack the Ripper. It’s affecting your manners somewhat.”
Marry Me?

Request:  Series (or not, your choice, but a series of this would be splendid!) of Crowley and the reader and eventually he asks her to be queen of hell? (With nicknames like kitten, dove, etc?)

Requester: @crowley-trash

Warnings: none

Hey guys! I’m sorry I haven’t posted in a while! My life has gotten sucky and its hard to write. Anyways, I’m sorry that it took me so long to get this out, but here it is! I hope you like it @crowley-trash!

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anonymous asked:

rowaelin meeting each other as seventeen year olds ;)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3


Rowan stepped back half a step. Sweat coated his skin as he took a few steadying breaths. His hands grabbed the two blades at his side. He watched his uncle closely, waiting for his next move. 

His uncle returned the stare. A long moment passed both them before his uncle stood up straighter, wiping the sweat from his brow.

“Your training is coming along.” 

That was the closet Rowan was going to get to a complement.

“Thank-you, Uncle.”

“Take the rest of the afternoon off,” His uncle placed his sword onto his belt. “And don’t forget to clean up for the dinner with Queen Maeve and her quests.”

Rowan simply nodded, stashing his own blades onto his belt as his uncle walked out of the field they were using for training.

How could he forget? Dinner with Maeve and her quests was definitely not how Rowan wanted to spend his evening. But who was he to say otherwise? His uncle hand picked him to come on this trip to visit Queen Maeve. Though most of his cousins volunteered to take his place. HIs uncle turned each one of them down, wanting to impress Queen Maeve by showing her how much of a skilled fighter Rowan was at just the young age of seventeen.

They’d been here four days now, and it was only this morning that Rowan found out about Maeve’s special quests. The King and Queen of Terrasen were to stay for a number of days. Along with their Princess. They arrived yesterday evening and Rowan had yet to meet any of more.

Walking over to the edge of the field, Rowan picked up the rag he brought with him. He wiped the sweat off his face as best as he could before taking a gulp of water from his canteen.

“Impressive fighting.”

Rowan almost chocked on his water as he quickly spun around.

Eyes, ringed with the brightest gold, stared back at him. Rowan felt his ears turn pink as he took in the beauty before him. The golden locks of hair, the full lips, the delicately pointed ears that he suddenly wished he could –

The blush grew from his ears to his cheeks as Rowan dropped his gaze.

He knew who she was. The way she carried herself and the aura she gave off screamed princess.

Princess. Heir to the throne of Terrasen. And who was he? Some guy bound to serve in an army. That was all. Therefore Rowan kept his gaze low on the ground, even as he heard footsteps slowly making their way towards him.

“Can’t take a complaint, buzzard?” She drawled out. Rowan could hear a smirk on her lips.

His heartbeat picked up as he dared lift his gaze to hers. The smirk on her lips growing.

Rowans tongue was lead in his month. He could feel the heat radiating off his face as he tried to control his breathing.

“No. I mean yes- I-“ Mortified, Rowan took a deep breath. He dipped into a low, clumsy bow, mostly to hid his face. “Thank you, princess.”

As if in reply, she let out an airy laugh, her red lips pulling back in a bright grin.

“Well. You seem to know me,” Rowan stood up slowly, watching as her eyes basically glimmered with fire and amusement. “But I’m afraid I don’t know you.”

“Rowan, princess.” He all but whispered.

Gods. He didn’t think he could make a bigger fool of himself.

“Ah,” She folded her arms across her chest. And lord help him, it took everything in him not to glance down. “Prince Rowan.”

Pink started to creep across Rowan’s cheeks again. Not that it really left in the first place. Prince. His titled was sounded almost worthless in compare to the women standing in front of him.

“Well Prince Rowan,” She continued on, nodding to the field behind him before her eyes flickered back to him. “You’ll have to teach me some of those techniques someday.”

Rowan’s eyes slowly made their way from her feet to her face. He took in her simply forest green grown, her delicately figure, the small but mighty crown on her head. He tried to see if she was joking, but all he saw on her face was intensity, beauty, and amusement. Why would this beautiful creature want to learn fighting techniques?

“As you wish, princess.” Rowan didn’t know what else to say. But he was proud of himself when he sounded almost normal.

Her face lit up. Fire catching in her eyes, her smile blinding as Rowan held his breath. Her gaze was unyielding, and Rowan suddenly felt like he was her prey.

The Rowan heard footsteps coming from the trees behind the field. A males smell hit him. A hand went for his blades, but the princesses knowing smile stopped him from actually lifting them.


A male stepped into view. He could have easily been the princesses twin, with those golden locks, turquoise eyes and strong jawline. He stood tall in a Terrasen guard uniform, hand on his sword.

Rowan instantly knew who he was as the male flicked his gaze from the princess to him. Aedion Ashryver. The princess’s cousin and personal guard.

“Your mother is asking for you.” Aedion looked back at the princess. Rowan watched as Aedion’s hand tightened on his sword.

Aelin shot her cousin a smile over her shoulder. Then, when he least excepted it, her gaze found his again. Rowan felt his heart all but stop as her lips pulled back into a seductive smile.

“Well. I’ll see you at dinner tonight. Prince Rowan.”

With one last glance at him through her leashes, Aelin turned on her heel and walked towards her cousin, hips swaying.

Rowan didn’t move until he couldn’t hear their footsteps anymore. He released a long breath, raising a shaking hand to the back of his neck.

He didn’t know how he was going to make it through dinner.

**Send my a prompt :)

The Maiden And The Giant

TITLE: The Maiden And The Giant

Chapter 9


 Imagine falling through a portal into Jötunheim and running into a stranger named Loki, who decides to provide shelter out of the need for company, that eventually turns into love.


NOTES/WARNINGS: Starting to have an idea where to go now. Not today, Plot! Not today!


    They stood in the king’s private study, facing the Allfather Odin Borson himself, both trying not to show how nervous they were actually feeling, though Loki was more successful by far. To the right of the king stood his wife and son, both still quite curious about the odd pair. Loki had, by Odin’s request, shapeshifted back into his natural form, though he kept the relief at such from showing.

    “I was under the impression that frost giants left their smaller offspring to die at birth,” Odin inquired.

    “They do,” Loki confirmed, “But when the king makes a different choice with his own; not many will argue it.”

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Enslaved by Kings and Dragons- [Every Breath You Take] - Thranduil and Cumbersmaug Fanfiction

“You think you have won! You think you have won the Dark Lord’s favor!” Anon hisses in your face, flame curling dangerously close and singing your hair. “You are NOTHING! He will grow tired of your shallow soul, your mortal flesh. You shall wither with age, and when he has no use of you, he will throw you to his orcs!”

You hear her words, feel the scalding heat of her breath, yet she is not really there. There is no one here but you and the shimmering ring on your finger. It fills you with light, drowning out thoughts and emotions. You are one with the ring, the beautiful, precious ring. Its powers flow through you, and it embodies your will.

Who shall we bring back to life first? It whispers, its voice soft like snow. You family will require the blood of elves. An army of elves.

You have no love for elves. They whispered behind your back when you were loveslave to their King. They accused you of witchcraft. Of evil. They never understood your emotions for Thranduil. Kill them. Bring them here and kill them all.

You giggle to yourself, and Anon snarls.  

Cumber shoves Anon’s scaly snout away from you. “Enough. Don’t you see what the ring has done to her? What do you gain from her torment?

"It was I who breathed life back into Mt. Doom! I who brought the Master back to the living! What right do you have to be the Master’s chosen? I should have been His Queen!”

“I said enough, hag!” Cumber roars, fists clenched and eyes blazing. “Go seek the Dark Lord if you’re so anxious for his favor! Leave us in peace!”

You must write a letter to the King of Mirkwood. Bring him to your side. Where he goes, the elves will follow. If they do not relent to the will of the Dark Lord, you will kill them all. Thranduil won’t care about the death of his men. After all, he loves you beyond everything in this world.

Before you can ask Cumber to bring you some ink and parchment, a deep shiver of excitement ripples through you. Your heart races with anticipation.

“…The Dark Lord approaches,” you breathe, pulling yourself to your feet. He’s the one who has granted you such awesome power. Continue to serve him faithfully, and there will be rewards beyond measure.

His crimson robes trail after Him like blood against the harsh obsidian of the great hall. He is holding a silver box you recognize from a dream.

Anon stares at the box and trembles violently, her claws digging into the rock of your chambers in wretched jealousy. The Dark Lord does not acknowledge her; He sees only you, his new Queen. His pet. With light fingers, He flips open the box, revealing glowing coals and a thin, silver blade.

The Dark Lord takes the blade and brushes it across the tender of your throat, tracing down the slope of your trembling shoulders. The metal tugs dangerously at your skin, whispering the promise of pain. Somehow you welcome it. You know it will bring you closer to Him.

It is time I etch my name into your flesh, as I shall carve my will into all of Middle Earth. He traces cold patterns across your back, as a painter prepares his canvass. All shall know who you serve. All shall love you and despair.

“…My Lord!” Anon wails, wings quivering. “Grant me new flesh and allow me to bring kings to your feet! Give me the chance to prove myself-”

Why are you still here, Anon? The Dark Lord’s voice is soft, but it rumbles through the halls in displeasure. I thought I made it clear you were to bring me the head of the elf you so foolishly conceived.

Anon shrinks back, green eyes wide with desperation.

“I…am…I mean…Elves…are… unable to spill the blood of their young.”

You are dragon now, are you not? Why would I grant you new flesh when you cannot even kill the offspring of your old? The Elven King must not have any stray attachments keeping him from fully pledging himself. Do not return until the heir of Mirkwood is dead.

With a guttural sob, Anon clamors from the hall, soaring out into the sky from the open ceiling. The gust knocks over the silver box, scattering the coals across the floor.

How is the Dark Lord to sear his love into your flesh without the coals?

You bend down to gather the coals back into the box with your bare hands. Whatever burns will be healed by the ring. There are many prisoners you can choose from in the dungeons whose life force will sustain the magic of the ring. Cumber bends down and pulls your hands away. His heart is broken but you do not know why.

“Let me do it,” he whispers, kissing your fingers sadly.  “Fire will not hurt me as it will you.” He sweeps the embers into the box with his fingers.

You throw your arms around your sweet, wonderful dragon. How you love him so. Perhaps he is sad because he shares your pain of losing a family. You could bring them all back to life, just to make him smile. All the souls of Gondor should do the trick. How happy he will be when he sees them again…

Cumber smooths the hair from your face and tenderly plants a kiss on your forehead. He does not what joy awaits him, once you rally your army of orcs and goblins to Gondor.

The Dark Lord stares intently at him, red eyes glowing.

You think I have tainted her. Corrupted her with the ring. All I have done is fill her with promise.

Cumber says nothing, although he clenches your hands tightly.

It must be tortuous to be so in love with one whose heart is so uncertain.  Humans are filled with a fickle greed unmatched by any other creature. They are never satisfied with what they have, and chase after phantoms of joys they think have missed. Serve me faithfully, and I will see to it that she loves you alone.

Cumber barks out a harsh laugh, eyes filling with hate.

“Her heart is her own. Do not think I don’t know the limitations of your power.”

If the elves do not join me, then they shall perish. I will have no use for the Elven King. Phantoms and memories cannot pose a threat to your love.

“…She still has the ring. She could bring him back.”

No one in Middle Earth she would be capable of killing has a life force strong enough to bring back such a high elf.

You plant small, soft kisses along his jaw, then gently nip his ear. “I only love you Cumber,” you breathe. “There’s no one in this world I could ever love more.”

Cumber caresses your cheek with a gentle hand. “…You sweet little liar,” he whispers, a broken smile on his face. He wraps you tightly in his arms and kisses you deeply. You taste fire in his mouth, and it spreads through your limbs, leaving you hungry and breathless. You moan softly and paw at his leather vest, grinding your flesh against the chiseled firmness of his.

He swallows hard, and throws a wary glance at the Dark Lord.

The Dark Lord smiles, and lays back in a jeweled chaise. Everyone knows it does not matter where He is. He is the all-seeing eye. He is always watching. You run your tongue down Cumber’s muscular neck, tasting him down to the hollow of his throat. How you ache for him, the tips of your breasts and the growing heat between your legs. You graze your teeth against the broad slope of his shoulder and rake your nails down his heaving chest. You know his body. You know where he likes to be touched.

His breath hitches, and his amber eyes glaze over with lust.

Lovely, isn’t she? So much more than your wildest dreams, your blind fumbling in the dark. Make her moan for me.

The Dark Lord’s voice rolls through you like soft thunder. Cumber chokes on his breath, and tries to pull away from you. You cling to him stubbornly. You know the years of the Dark Lord’s conditioning has not worn off, that he has learned to derive enjoyment from being watched. You close your mouth over his and nip his lower lip. You know how to make him succumb to you. You always have.

“Please Cumber,” you whisper. “Love me.”

He lowers his head, forehead pressed against you in desperation, but you can feel his desire rigid against you. You peel off your silk dress and press his mouth over your aching breast. With an anguished sigh of defeat, he rasps at the puckered tip with a hungry tongue. You groan and dig your nails into his back, leaving trails down his back like red shooting stars. Shocks of pleasure simmer through your torso, as he clenches you to him, his fingers grasping at your anxious skin. His touch is electric as it toys with your desire, sliding slowly against your swollen pearl with a slick knuckle. A deep moan rattle through you as you buckle against his touch, arching your back. The sensation is maddening. Every cell in your body craves for more. So much more.

Slide your fingers back and forth in her mouth. Whet her appetite for what’s to come.

With trembling fingers, Cumber obliges. You run your pink tongue across his digits, sucking and lapping with a hunger only another part of him could sate. He sees the look on your face and groans throatily. Closing his mouth over yours, his sweetly coated fingers find your hunger and fills it. You whimper and move against his steady thrust, feeling his fingers curl in wet, hot hither. A fiery gust rips through you, like a firestorm that leaves only cinders in its path. It swirls and builds with every expert twist and plunge of his digits. You shove against him, your slickness drenching his palm and dripping to the floor. Harder. Faster. And suddenly the fire roars and engulfs you whole, until you are soft ash beneath the thick deliciousness of his touch.

The Dark lord is behind you now, pulling your wrists behind your back. His lips are pressed against your ear, his hand closed around your throat.

Tell him how much you want him. How much you want him to fill you and tear you apart. Show him your brutal desire of him. How fervently the slit between your legs weeps for his completion.

“…Cumber,” you moan desperately. “Please…”

With a tortured growl, Cumber clasps your thighs and lifts you, wrapping your legs around him. He hisses as you grind against him with blatant wantonness. You can see the shiver of pleasure dance through his limbs. He is shaking; he can no longer hold back and slams into you with a full-bodied thrust.

Searing inferno spreads you wide, sending flames through your very soul as he plunges into you deep like a wild animal, madly desperate for the tight, addictive luxury of you.

Your screams of pleasure are choked off by the Dark Lord’s firm grip around your neck, the air escaping in and out of your lungs in frantic gasps. The shrill hiss of your breath excites your dragon even more, and you feel him grow thicker, longer. Stretching you to your limits as he sparks pleasure with every ribbed, ridged inch of him. The Dark Lord sinks his teeth into your shoulder. His grip around your neck is unyielding. There is no escaping the full force of Cumber’s passion, the overload of mindless pleasure of a dragon unleashed. With every plunge, your world shatters with intensity. You are wracked with growing cataclysm. The light is fading, the world shimmers red and black in death and eternity. You are the sun doused in darkness, a fire dancing in the black, powdery ash of the apocalypse. Your climax tears through the fading light, jagged streaks of ecstasy rippling like a thunderstorm through the breathless haze. Cumber cries out hoarsely as you clench violently around him. His fingers dig into your flesh as he comes inside you, hot, thick and filling. You are consumed in brilliant blue fire, cold and crackling across your feverish skin as air and light fade in and out of existence.

The Dark Lord releases your wrists and grabs Cumber by the throat. He tightens his grip and draws Cumber close.

Continue. I want you to use her until you fall unconscious, He breathes, and closes His mouth over his.

The letter was written in small, neat strokes of Black Speech, the writing of a gentle, soft hand.

Thranduil, I need you. Come, and be mine forever.

The scent of summer lilies clung to the parchment, the scent of her, tinged with the sulphur breath of Mordor.

Thranduil knew that she was lost to him, that the dark powers of Sauron had taken her for His own.

He remembered as he her in the woods, breathed in the scent of her as they hid from the orcs. He felt the warmth of her damp, bare flesh pressed against his, the racing of her heart. The shrieks of pursuing orcs faded into the background, and there was nothing in the world but her. Beautiful, radiant her. How his entire being sang with her in his arms. How the moment felt complete. He had pulled away from her then, terrified that she would sense the longing in his soul, the desperate ache that strained his self control.

Had he never let go, she would be safe with him.

“You know it’s a trap,” Legolas mutters crossly, eyeing him with disgust. “To go to Mordor would mark the woodland elves as traitors to Middle Earth. We are its protectors, the last defense against the darkness.”

Of course it was a trap.

He held the letter to his face and breathed in the scent. Then he crushed the parchment violently. He had to go.

“We are no match to the powers of Sauron! If you are captured, all of Mirkwood will be in jeopardy.”

If he went to her, he would risk falling under the influence of Sauron. If he went to her, it meant she would never run from him again.

“I will abdicate the throne,” Thranduil said slowly, the decision forming in his mind and solidifying as he spoke. “I will go not as King of Mirkwood, but as myself. You will lead the Silvan elves and  continue to serve Middle Earth, keeping it from the clutches of darkness.”

“This is madness,” Legolas whispered, blood draining from his face. “You would risk evil and damnation? You would betray us all for this human, this pawn of Sauron?”

His son would never understand. The thought of her in the clutches of Sauron, of spending an eternity without her.

“Forgive me,” he said softly. “Protect Mirkwood with your life. You shall be a better king and ruler than I ever was.”

“I will not allow this!” Legolas shouted, drawing out his sword. “Guards!”

His men poured into the room, staring at their king and prince with uncertainty.

“Restrain your king,” Legolas ordered, blue eyes flashing. “…He has fallen ill.”

“I am your king no longer,” Thranduil spoke, slowly and deliberately. “But it will be wise for all of you to part and allow my passage. I have known you all my life; do not try me.”

His men stared at him, bewildered. They had fought alongside him, battle after battle. They had trusted him, put down their lives for him. He saw the uncertainty and fear in their eyes; they no longer knew if he was the same high elf they made their king, the leader they loved and followed.

How could they know of the sorrow of his soul? The weariness that choked his every breath? Your king is old, he wanted to tell them. You king is broken. Place your faith in another worthy of your trust. One not a slave to his emotions.

“Do not make me fight you, Ada!” Legolas pleaded, his voice cracking. “You are throwing your life away!”

Eye to eye they stood, swords steady and poised. Legolas was tall. Strong. He had no need of his wretched father any more. Thranduil smiled sadly. With a smooth flick of his sword, he disarmed his son, sending the blade clattering to the floor. Then he leaped past him, racing through his halls and out into his woods.

They chased after him, whizzing through the dead forest soundlessly in their pursuit. His men were fast, but he had always been faster. Through the trees he darted, leaping from branch to branch like a silver panther. He would lose them in the southern woods. There was a scouting pack full of lembas bread, supplies, and light weaponry tucked away in the hollow of the willow tree. The scout’s cloak would allow him to pass unseen through the barren lands between Mirkwood and Mordor, although it would be useless under the glare of the all-seeing eye…

An earth shattering roar stopped him dead in his tracks. His men froze as well, and they stared silently towards the sky, keen eyes piercing the dense weave of dead tree limbs.

Legolas caught up to him and gripped his forearm.

“Dragon,” he whispered.

The forest went dark as the collosal beast swooped over them and covered the sky.

“I. See. You.” Anon hissed, wings beating hurricanes through the trees.

“RUN!” Thranduil shouted at his men, and the elves dispersed, spreading out strategically across the forest. He turned to Legolas and grabbed him by the shoulders. “The dragon will destroy everything in Mirkwood, but she can never harm you,” he shouted over the wind. “We must return-”

Before he could finish, a bright red claw reached through the trees and clamped around Legolas, ripping him from Thranduil’s grasp.

“ADA!” Legolas screamed as the dragon carried him high into the air.

“NO!” He screamed after Anon, sword drawn and raised. “How many times must you try and fail? He is your flesh, your blood! You are incapable of harming him!”

“Silence, you wretched fool! What do you know of what I am capable of? I am dragon now, no longer bound by the laws of elven-kind!”  

“What laws ever bound you, Anon? Love? Marriage? You were the one in charge of your destiny, always! You carried my child for twelve full months, brought him into this world. You could have killed us then. You could have murdered us in our sleep when you possessed the girl. Yet here we are again, locked in this hateful, neverending dance!”

“The dance ends here, Thranduil,” she breathed, fire trailing from her maw. “Once the child is dead, there is nothing stopping me from ending you once and for all. There is more than one way to kill an elf. And it need not be by my own hand!”

Legolas struck the talon clenching around his waist.

“…I have only ever known my mother as the emerald of Greenwood, the most beautiful and wisest of elves,” He gasped, his face contorted in hatred. “Kill me now, so to protect my memory of her!”

“NO!” Thranduil shouted, his voice hoarse.

“As you wish,” Anon growled and tightened her grip. Legolas began to choke, pale face bulging red and purple. Yet before Anon could break him, crush his body into fleshy pulp, she lost her conviction. With a stricken cry, she soared off in the direction of the glowing embers of Mount Doom, her unconscious son flailing limp in her grip.

Thranduil threw down his sword and as Anon disappeared into the distance.

“Ready the horses,” he shouted wildly at his men. “We follow after the dragon!”

[posted 9.7.14]

for the loveliest @seastarved - it was an absolute delight being your secret santa and speaking to you over the course of the month! happy holidays, love! I really hope you like your EF arranged marriage AU with copious amounts of fluff <3

start believing in forever (and ever and ever).
ao3 | ffn

“No.” Her lady mother is fuming and so is she, the slowly approaching winter becoming little match for the heat surrounding the two of them. She can feel her magic prickling right under the skin of her palm, where it often resides before she brings it out of her entirely.

She isn’t meant to fuel her magic with hateful emotions - Ingrid had warned her about that. But, Gods, right now, the only thoughts in her head are those that would cause all the men and women at court to gasp if she said them out loud. Sometimes she wonders if she was meant for a sailor’s home rather than a royal’s.

“Emma Ruth Nolan.” If looks could kill, Emma thinks, they’d both be piles of ashes that her lady’s maid would have swept under the plush Arabian rug by now. “Do not argue with me about this.”

“I can’t believe you’re suggesting this. You.”

“Emma, you know we want what’s best for you, and right now-”

Right now isn’t good enough,” she throws her hands up as if that will help anything at all, “right now does not account for the rest of my life. Which is exactly how long I’m going to be spending with a man who I don’t even know the first thing about.”

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The Old Gods and the New

Author: sansa-and-winterfell

Ship(s): jon x sansa

NSFW? safe

Trigger Warning(s): none

Brief Summary: If they knew the truth about the last hero, the true one, perhaps Sansa would still be safely tucked away in Winterfell until the end of her days. Instead she was to be married off, not to take her from her family, but to take another from the Red Keep. In which Sansa claims herself.

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MAGIC (Part 3) - Prince Calum x Witch Reader

Part 1 || Part 2



You were sleeping peacefully on your new bed. You were waked by the light that was shining through the window, fluttering your eyes open. You knew that being a witch meant that you were going to be imprisoned for life, and felt that they only way out would be to cast a love spell on Calum, hoping that as prince he would find some way to release you. And although he hasn’t found a way to release you, he had done so much for you. He had moved you from a dark cell, to a room fit for a lord, saying that you needed a new room and bringing you small gifts like flowers and books.

You still felt a pang of regret every time you thought about the love spell. Calum was only doing this because you were manipulating his feelings into thinking that he loved you. Nothing he felt for you was real; you needed to remind yourself constantly, because the nicer he treated you…the more you thought he did actually love you. You knew that this was bad, magic isn’t meant to be used to manipulate others, you were taught that magic must be used to help others, never harm. You thought about the Rule of Three, this sort of ill magic, would definitely have its consequences that you knew would one day come…you just hoped that it would happen after you escaped or the many good deeds you’ve done could somehow lessen the reverse karma that you would receive…but magic rarely worked that way.

You hoped that Calum would find a way to let you go, that his love for you would force him to break the rules for you, and when you were free, you would undo the spell and hopefully the small feelings that were harboring in your chest would leave too. because you couldn’t deny that you felt a flutter in your stomach when Calum was near, he treated you like you mattered, that you were important, the smile on his face proof of that, and being alone most of your life, you couldn’t help but grow feelings for the future king.

Calum didn’t deserve any of this, he deserved to love someone who loved him entirely, someone that was worthy of the love he was able to give but you needed to live, you didn’t want to die and this was the only way. You looked to the side, seeing the small gifts that Calum would bring, making the regret grow more and more in the pit of your stomach, he really deserved the world, he deserved to love someone that was worth it. You stood up from your bed, ready to get your day started, as well as praying that your love spell wouldn’t wear off, but you were sure that it wouldn’t, since Calum was completely in love with you. You were starting to get dressed, when your door was kicked in.

“Seize her!” one of the royal guards shouted as they all circled you like you an animal.

You looked around, wondering what you did wrong, you were already imprisoned for life, or at least until Calum will find a way to free you, so what more could they want.

“What have I done wrong?” you said raising your hands not wanting them to harm you like when they first captured you.

“Silence you witch, you know what you have done,” they answered as your arms were roughly pulled behind you then shackled, as you were pushed out of the holding cell, knowing full well that the tight grip would bruise you once again.  

You were led back to the grand hall in silence, the throne room was just as spotless as you remembered it. you looked up towards that regal thornes, expecting it to be Calum, but you knew that he would never had you treated like this, the love spell wouldn’t let him have the guards treat you like this, so you could already guess who was there.

The king and queen, and judging by their faces, they weren’t happy to see you.

“Halt don’t bring her any closer, before she curses the king and queen as well,” the royal captain ordered.

Curse? What exactly do they mean? Did they find out about the love spell that you casted on Calum, were they able to see through your spell and knew that something wasn’t right. This was it, there was no going against the king’s word, if the royal king ordered you dead…no magic in the world could save you.

“You witch…(Y/N) that is your name correct?” the king asked.

You nodded. You felt a kick on your side enough to leave you breathless but not enough to break any bones, thankfully.

“You speak when answering to your king,” the captain ordered.

“Yes your highness, that is my name,” you answered.

“So you are the one that my son calls for, do you understand what you have done? It is high treason to go against the crown. We don’t like to execute our prisoners, but seeing as how you have cursed our son ill, we have no other choice…unless you lift your curse, then maybe we will consider your old sentence of life in prison,” the king stated.

“Your majesty, I mean no disrespect but what do you mean cursed him ill?” not sure of what he was talking about.

“Don’t lie,” the queen quickly responded, “our son is sick in bed because of you. He was fine when we left and we return and he is bed ridden. We’ve never seen him this ill, and it just so happens to be after you were brought here,” she finished.

“But I didn’t curse him your highness, I can ensure you of that, I would never harm the prince,” well not completely, since you knew that once he found out you manipulated him…that could hurt him.

“How can I trust you?” she asked.

“I can ensure you I didn’t, but if you let me see him, I can help. Before you all caught me I was mainly a healer, I used my magic to cure never harm. I can help him, if not I can give you some nice mixes of tea and soup that will help him,” feeling attached to Calum, you knew that you needed to help; you just needed to know he was fine.

“I am not letting you anywhere near my son, not after what you did,” his majesty answered.

“Fine,” his mother answered. Your eyes widened not expecting her to agree. “None of our medics can help him, so maybe you can. But rest assured if my son gets any sicker, there will be consequences. I love my son, so please as a mother,” she paused placing her hand on her husband to calm him down, “please help him.”

You nodded and were quickly unshackled and led to Calum’s chamber room. You stood in front, while they advised you that they will keep watch to make sure that you wouldn’t hurt him and that if you need anything they will be the ones to fetch it for you. You nodded as you knocked on the door; you waited for the door to open. You waited and nothing, not even a simple response to let yourself in. You sighed and let yourself in.

You thought that the room you were staying in was big, this one made your own feel so small, this could easily be the size of your old home. Large stain glass wall windows adorned by red silk curtains, giving the room a beautiful light yellow glow, beautiful wooden wardrobes covered, the royal crown on a velvet red pillow, and a large plush bed filled with pillows that looked as soft as a cloud. But what caught your attention was the handsome ebony haired male that was fast asleep on the plush bed.

You quietly made your way over to his bed not wanting him to wake up, but as you walked closer you noticed that he wasn’t well. His forehead was glistening with sweat, matting down his hair to his forehead; his color wasn’t the tan healthy skin but rather an array of pale or reddened cheeks. He was really sick, and you didn’t understand why, you had seen him only two days ago when he asked the guards to let you out to further change your room, and as healthy as can be.

You pushed the strands of hair that were stuck on his forehead away and the moment your fingertips touched his skin, you could already feel the cold sweat and hot skin. He was running a bad fever and remembering everything that you learned from healing, you knew that before you could even use magic to heal, you should try the mundane methods first. You quickly ran to the door, asking them to bring you a rag and cold water, while telling another to start making you a stew listing exactly what and how to do it. You quickly went over to Calum, carefully pulling off the sheets, he needed to lower his temperature and being bundled up like that would do the opposite.

You were quickly brought the water and towel, and immediately soaked it, and asked for another towel as well. You placed the first towel on the back of his neck, knowing that it would start to cool him down. Calum started stirring the cold water slowly waking him up. With the second towel you started to clean his face of the sweat and slowly his eyes fluttered opened, his brown hues meeting yours.

“I can get used to you being the first thing I see when I wake up,” he said weakly with a smile.

Your heart raced and your face was heating up. He knew exactly what to say to get a reaction out of you, and instead of responding to his comment you continued to wipe his face, making sure to not be too harsh.

“Not that I mind you being here (Y/N)…but why are you here?” he asked leaning into your hand making it harder for you to clean his face.

“They thought that you are sick because of me, that I cursed you and now I have to heal you,” you said just resting your hand on his cheek.

“But you didn’t do this to me,” he said with a cough, “I just came down with something, but either way maybe it’s a good thing I got sick,” he said with a weak smile.

“Calum you’re running a high fever, how is that a good thing?” you asked noticing that while his skin was still hot, at wasn’t as hot as before.

His had gripped yours, bring it back to his cheek, letting the corner of his mouth meet your palm, “because I get to be nursed back to health by you,” Calum smiled.

Calum started to smile, before his body started to convulse. You immediately felt his body heat up against, his body starting to sweat all over again; he was heating up again. You immediately shouted for someone to bring you more cold water and to prepare him a cold bath. You felt in your pocket finding your quartz, hoping that they were cleansed enough to be of some use to heal Calum.

You couldn’t lose Calum, not because he was the ticket to your freedom, but rather…because you grew to love him, you realized that now. You were worried when you heard that he was ill, you thought that it stemmed that if something bad happened to him, you wouldn’t be able to escape…but that wasn’t the case. He shouldn’t be this ill, you were pretty sure that he hadn’t been exposed to anything this bad, at least to your knowledge he didn’t…so why was he this sick?

Then it hit you…there was only one explanation for him being this sick.

The Rule of Three

That was the only thing that you could think of. You knew that having him fall in love with you would bring bad consequences…but you never imagined anything like this. Was this your punishment for making Calum fall in love with you?

It made sense, a love for a love. You didn’t know what to do, at this point. You never thought that the Rule of Three would ever do such a thing. it seemed like the correct way for your karma to be returned, you manipulated someone to feel love, forced them to feel something against their will, and your fate would be to have the person you love die in the process. You heard of far worse tales when it comes to the Rule of Three, so why couldn’t this be it.

You couldn’t lose Calum, he didn’t deserve this, he didn’t deserve to pay for your magic, if anything the last few days proved that, he was kind, giving, everything a good king should be, everything you wanted him to be. He deserved the world and right now, the magic you casted on him, may rid him of the chance to have a happy long life.

You tried to remember the spell that would undo the love spell but nothing came to mind, your plan was to undo the spell when you escaped, allowing you to run back to your old home and find what the spell was. But right now for Calum’s sake you needed to remember it, you had to; his life could be at stake. But you mind was blank. Your hands clenched your head, hoping to find the right words to say, but nothing. So you did the only thing you could, and hope to cure him like you did with others.

Pulling out the clear quartz you started chanting, praying to all healing gods and goddesses, mother earth, and any other healing deities you could think of, and hoping that they could heal Calum. You prayed to the Three Goddesses to spare his life. Once you felt centered, you pressed the quartz against his body, cleansing him with it to your best ability hoping it would buy you some time. The guards immediately stormed in, telling them to take him to the bath, and following close behind.

He was looked better, the cold bath lowering his temperature back to a faint fever. You held his hand the whole time, the quartz between both your palms as you chanted wanting him to get better, hoping that he could direct his illness towards you, anything as long as he got better. Once you felt that he was ok, you told them if they could dress him and take him to his room. You were glad that they weren’t complaining and doing as they were told.

Once they said he was dressed you walked back into his chamber room, seeing that at least for now…he was fine, wondering if somehow all your prayers worked. Calum was sleeping soundly, making a small smile come on your lips. You started brushing the hair from his face, glad that this time that you did it, his skin wasn’t as fevered as before. Your fingertips glided over his face, feeling Calum’s soft warm skin. Your fingertips landed on his lips, feeling chapped…yet soft underneath. You wondered what they would feel like pressed against yours, wanting to know the answer yourself.

You wanted to kiss him, wanting to know what it felt to kiss someone that loved you, what it feels to kiss someone you love. Your face was heating up, just thinking about it. You gulped your fingertips still against his lips, and then bringing it up to yours. An indirect kiss, that’s as close as you would ever get to kissing Calum. You really did want to kiss him, but you couldn’t let yourself because you felt that the moment you did, you would completely fall for him, which would make it so much harder for you to let him go, when he finds a way to free you.

You just stayed in the room as you kept watch on him, making sure that he wouldn’t suddenly start convulsing again, but you were sure that he would soon be fine.

Your eyes started to droop; it was late and noticed that you should head back to your own cell before they force you. The queen had walked in a while ago asking the status of her son, and you proud to announce that it seemed whatever he came down with would no longer be a threat to him, and that he only needed rest. She was glad that you helped and said that you can stay to watch over her son if you wanted or to go back to your cell, which made you wonder if Calum’s kind nature was from his mom. You thanked her and said that you would watch over him a bit longer.

Calum was still sleeping soundly, never once waking up, just the occasional tossing and turning to find a more comfortable spot to sleep. You felt that it was time to head to sleep, and there was no point in watching over him, since he had been sleeping soundly for a good while. You walked up to him one last time, this time sitting down on his bed.

His mouth slightly open, hearing the soft sounds of his breath. Your face was heating up, how is it possible that a single person can make your heart beat as fast as a hummingbird, how a single person can make you feel so much, that in itself is magic to you, one person having so much power over your feelings?

You were in love with the prince; it was simple as that, a witch in love with a royal.

You leaned down, your lips just over his, wanting to press your lips against his, almost needing to kiss him…but just before they met his you quickly decided to kiss his forehead. You softly kissed his forehead, finally accepting that in your plan to use magic to make Calum fall in love with you, you ended up falling for him too. But unlike Calum, your feelings weren’t fake; you genuinely fell in love with him.

You whispered against his skin a simple protection and healing charm, nothing to grand, but enough to keep him safe for the night. You sealed the charm with another kiss.

“Goodnight my precious prince,” you whispered with a smile, your hand caressing his face, glad that he was safe.

You got up to leave him, when you felt his hand lightly grip onto your wrist. You turned around, to see his sleep filled brown eyes lock on with yours, ready to fall back asleep in in any second, despite his hold being pretty strong.

“Stay,” was the only thing Calum whispered, as he started pulling you back.

You know that you shouldn’t climb into bed with him, but there was so little restraint as he lifted the covers and pulled you into bed. His arms wrapped around you as he pulled you close to his body, letting you smell the soap he used from his bath and his own personal scent, slowly lulling you to sleep too. you shouldn’t be here, yet it felt so right.

“Calum I should go,” you whispered, but still offering no intentions of moving.

Calum’s arms tightened locking you more in place, not wanting to let you leave, pressing his chest against yours feeling the warm skin heat up yours.

“No, as your prince I order you to stay here,” he said, laying his head on top of yours.

Your heart was pounding against your chest at a fast pace, it was starting to get difficult for you to remind yourself that he didn’t actually loved you, but right now that didn’t matter because right now you would let yourself believe that he actually did love you.

“As you wish my prince,” you answered, letting yourself not think that his feelings were fake and enjoy the moment.  

Calum’s hand lifted your head letting you look up at him, seeing his reddened face but you were unsure if it was because of him being sick or he was blushing. “Kiss me,” he said as he leaned down a bit but wanting you to close the space between your lips.

You placed your hand on his cheek, his face slightly leaning into your hands, as you leaned up to kiss him. They were softer than what you expected. You both had a closed mouth kiss, letting you both know what the other’s lips felt like. Finally his mouth started to move, making yours move as well. It was slow, nothing to dominant or heated. His hand burying itself in your hair as he angled his face to better kiss you, letting him take the lead. You could taste the medicine and soup in his mouth as you both explored each other’s mouths, his hands making your body feel warm and wanted. Your body felt marvelous, better than when magic courses through it, it felt like a mix of a warm fire and tingling sensation. Calum’s kisses were just as sweet as him, letting you feel the love that he had for you, it was almost overwhelming how much he loved you, but you felt that you loved him just as much. Finally feeling the need to breathe you both stopped, your faces heated and tinted.

He brought you closer, his head kissing your forehead. Both your legs a tangled mess, as you hugged him back, letting your lips press against the tanned skin of his chest and neck. You couldn’t slow down your heart at all, not with the way that Calum was holding you and making you feel. His arms drawing small shapes on your exposed skin, his lips on your forehead, the way his body heat felt like a warm blanket, everything about him just so inviting.

“I love you (Y/N),” the words filling the silence you both created.

“I love you too Calum,” you answered.

You honestly did, there was no point in denying it, but you really wished that Calum actually meant what he said, and it wasn’t just the love spell that made him feel that way. But for now, you let yourself believe he did love you as you fell asleep to the sound of Calum’s heart, matching your own heartbeat.



Sorry for not updating anything in a while but it’s just with my job and preparing for black Friday things have been hectic and especially since I had to work different hours than normal and school, things basically got piled up. so I am sorry for any inconvenience it have caused.



Cara | Part Eleven

Chapter Synopsis: The Vanaheim delegation arrives in Asgard, including the mother who abandoned Cara.

The story is here: Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five | Chapter Six | Chapter Seven | Chapter Eight | Chapter Nine | Chapter Ten |
Cara Mia (one shot which was the inspiration for this story)

Loki/Cara manips: Collection one | Collection two | Collection three | Collection Four |

AN: Betaed by evieplease, thank you.

Part Eleven 

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